Transmission #5-0-5-1
North Side the Wall, Tokyo Urban; Hidden Village: "Leaf"
Training Course Delta; "Bell Test"; Subject 9 makes contact with Bridge Builder; Cave Systems Neath Bunker "X"
35.379724 / 138.775882; Aokigahara
Mizuki never was one for talking...
Talking to Naruto at least.
Which is why he let the radio to speak for him.
The receiver in Naruto's hand shook as garbled messages sifted through the chop. Something terrible had occurred. Nothing clearly stated over the lines, of course; truth was a highly guarded secret the North. But through the callsigns and code, Naruto understood a mishap, an "accident", was being reported. He could make out "casualties", 'reinforcements", and "虐殺".
Massacre.
Mizuki stood in silence, whilst questions burned Naruto up just like the roiling heat pressing from the center of his person. It ran all the way up to his temples, the migraine burning him like a furnace being overstuffed with coal, or all the banned Western books deemed "unmentionable" by the Sapporo Camaraderie. Naruto looked to the jonin, kitted and fitted in his khaki flak vest and the black field op uniform; Mizuki looked more to be on a mission, than to keep watch over students at "exam-ing".
"I told you the other day something big was coming down the pipeline, and you needed to be ready. It has, and you are gonna be. Whether you like it or not."
Mizuki began to pillage through the supply cache; the guns and ammunition were useless to him, but the batteries and rations would come in handy. Judging on how long apparently they'd be walking through the bunker's tunnels. Of which Mizuki said were kilometers running all throughout Aokigahara. "No telling what made a home here since everything's been abandoned. Might take us longer than expected to get to where we need."
"Mizuki tell me what's happening?"
Mizuki ignores him as usual. Since the first days these two were forced into working together, both had very different ways of showing just how little they thought of the other. For Mizuki it was a begrudging, grumpy, heavy-handed acrimony when dealing with a kid who neither respected him, nor he respected back. To Naruto, pranks were his go-to: ink in the guys tea to turn his teeth black, whoopee cushions under chairs, laxatives in his oatmeal. You know, harmless stuff. Because it was hilarious someone as selfish, greedy, and self-serving as Mizuki could deign give Naruto orders.
And that he was able to get a woman who loved him despite the terrible case of "dick-face" afflicting him.
But as Tsubaki mentioned to Naruto on many a hospital visit, they were all in the same boat. And they were only going to go as far as the Bridge Builder can take them if they get along. Which meant Mizuki better get that gun pointed out of his face, or they were really going to have a problem.
"WE have no gods damned time for your bullshit," Mizuki's voice is as hard as the stone surrounding this bunker complex, and nearly as wretched. The forms of Matsuri and Mikoshi lay unconscious behind Naruto, who refuses to move.
"I'm not leaving my friends behind." Naruto shot back.
Cha-chick*
Mizuki cocks the shotgun; it's a non-standard, American model, menacing and powerful. Mizuki doesn't need to be a good shot at this range to take Naruto's head off. Not if you consider what it did to Shino Aburame's twitching carapace up on the surface. "This Winchester's only got so many shells, and they were NOT meant to be wasted playing nurse-maid for those little twerps."
"Then why the hell are you here?!" Naruto pressed, confusion and anger bubbling up. "If you're looking for me to say thanks, then shove that thought ALL the way up your ass. You signed my death warrant, you know that? Giving me shit for drawing heat - AND THEN YOU GO AND STOVE IN A ROOT AGENT'S HEAD?!"
"Keep. Your. Voice. DOWN! If they hear us-!" Mizuki nods towards the two forms laying against the wall, which makes Naruto irate.
"You'll what? Shoot them?" Grabbing hold of the trench gun's muzzle, Naruto keeps it level toward his chest. He fixes Mizuki with a hard look, unrelenting as his grip tightens. "Do that and I guarantee, you bastard, I will make you regret every damned second of this day for the rest of your life."
"Oh, for fuck's sake - don't be so dramatic!" After a shove, Mizuki rips away from Naruto's hold. Eyes hard and unyielding stare at the kid in front of him; he'd been nothing but trouble ever since they met, ever since Lord knows for whatever reason the Bridge Builder saw something in him. After what Mizuki had put up with in his life, he thought it cruel it would test him again with this ungrateful shit. Nothing would make him happier putting a slug into Naruto's chest...
But the Bridge Builder needed to talk.
Now.
Their window was only going to be open for so long, and traveling through these underground passages wouldn't be easy if Naruto's bleeding heart left a trail others could follow.
After a long pause, Mizuki's stern countenance gives way; he lowers the gun. Not all the way, only a little bit. But enough where Naruto doesn't feel the need to fight through his own pain to inflict enough of it onto Mizuki. He sighs, wiping away the sweat pooling against his pale, almost iridescent hair. He looks to Naruto with a cynically tired expression, and shrugs, fighting off whatever baggage still lingered there upon his shoulders.
"Fine, whatever; I don't give a shit anymore." Mizuki drops the duffle bag he carries to the floor. Inside is a pair of black workman's khaki's, a white wifebeater, and an old black and orange weather jacket reserved mostly for "political detainees" committed to "public service". He gestures for Naruto to change up - shit got cold down here, the man goes. "Make your decision, and make it quick: you wanna stay here with these losers, fine. But for the record: putting you guys in this forest with no food, no means to communicate, and nothing to protect yourselves from psychos like that above; isolating you from everyone and anything who could help. That's not happenstance; it's by design. If you think it's all for some exam, you're more retarded than I thought."
Interesting; the man's penchant for self-preservation was being challenged. Either because he was being compelled to be put in danger, or his backbone just so happened to harden.
Mizuki flicks on the flashlight attached to the barrel of his firearm, and makes his way into the bunker complex. He flips on a switch hanging by the nearby wall; something at the far end of the darkness jolts on, with a turbine beginning to hum, and the soft propelling of fans starting to churn. "Two unmarked patrols I passed are heading this way. Personally, think it smart to not be around when they come knocking. Whatever's transpiring on the surface isn't good for business. Or for you, apparently; which is why Bridge Builder sent me to get you. So, if you wanna know more, shut up and follow me. If not...Hmph, 'good luck'."
Naruto grits his teeth so hard he means to break them against his jaw. He hated Mizuki more than he was worth, and for all the right reasons, too. Men like him didn't give a shit about anything. They went through the motions, gun in hand, talking about whatever or whoever, letting the world slip by. Naruto may be the "runner" for their little gig, but it was Mizuki who never settled. Cynicism wasn't being a realist, it only meant if you didn't hope. And Mizuki operated solely on whether one either carried a carrot or a stick to beat people with.
Made Naruto sick to his stomach as he dons his new clothes - his regular PT garb was covered in "bug juice" and he'd rather not think what else. He grabs the radio pack, which was a good call according to Mizuki; he's heard Naruto's gotten good at using them. Finding outlawed stations past quiet hours is one thing, doing so while Ibiki Morino walks up and down your dorm is another entirely, he chimes in. "Plus some if you consider having a girl with you, too."
Before Naruto's able to ask how the hell the jonin could know such a thing, Mizuki's voice tapers off as disappears into the eerie dark of the deep tunnels. "Of fucking course," Naruto sighs, taking one last look at Matsuri and Mikoshi.
To be fair, they weren't anything special towards him. Matsuri was all right - got her fair share of bullying at a young age from their classmates. For why, Naruto couldn't tell you. Maybe it was for same reason so many other girls got bullied in the Ninja Academy: for like the wrong by they shouldn't. And for Mikoshi...he was there. Naruto didn't hate him, didn't like him, either; he seemed okay for the most part. Although, being 'okay' in their world didn't ever amount to much - there were plenty of 'okay' ninja who never made it past their second mission. Naruto was positive once Mikoshi and Matsuri graduated they'd never see much of each other afterwards. Was fine.
Yet, Comrade-sensei Kakashi wouldn't want him to make excuses in not helping them out.
Tobirama's own Codex for the Acumen of Administration, line 513, subset J says: fostering camaraderie will forever the bulwark for a strong, lasting form of governance.
Sanzo Nosaka's Memoirs recounts: "[o]nly through the joy of assisting our brothers and sisters will we realize the true value of the Revolution."
And to Naruto: "What else was I to do - not be where I was supposed to be?"
"...Na-Naruto..." Matsuri stirs, mumbling in her unconsciousness as he takes her over to the abandoned, musty couch. Laying her down, her hand instinctively curls around the small bell he'd given her; if they wake up, the coordinate mark would be of better use to them. Maybe; what Mizuki wanted him about the exam, it gave him pause. Going over to the map hanging on the wall, Naruto rips off a piece of its corner. Nipping his thumb, in blood he quickly writes down a note: ここにいて. Whether or not help will arrive in time - for Mikoshi's swelling, or Matsuri's equally burgeoning fever - seemed to bother Mizuki little as he deftly works the controls of the center console. Padding over a few switches, and throwing down a large green button, Mizuki sets in motion the rail way with ease. Off to the side is a worn down map, dirt and water stains coupling to make the multicolored lines running along it nearly illegible. Though Naruto can see the network not only cuts through all of Aokigahara, but goes all the way to Tokyo and beyond.
"Where did you find that," Naruto asks. But, of course Mizuki brushes him off
The sound of turbines become more apparent as they spin unseen around them. Naruto can hear the vibrations in the walls, practically fearing it was going to bring the concrete down on their heads. Sound of a rushing waterfall comes through, as Mizuki presses a glowing button denoting "dam 1". Soon the faint *drip* *drip* *drip* from before becomes a deluge, and the tracks leading down the tunnel are almost covered with water.
"Toss this," Mizuki hands Naruto the map. "Only needed it for reference - I know the way now."
"You know the way? How?" Naruto follows Mizuki down the threshold to where platform meets the railcar. A small, uncomfortable thing. Meant for people less than half their size, or children, depending if Naruto's mind got fanciful. Mizuki tells him to get in as he pulls a scroll from his pouch and attaches it to railcar's side. A cohesion scroll - a simple jutsu allowing objects of a heavy mass to be pulled through water by charging the hydrogen bonds.
"Look at you being all smart," Mizuki comments as he gets in, taking control of what Naruto originally thought was a pull-brake, but now looks more a rudder.
The underground railway felt more like a relic from another era, like a time capsule buried beneath all these layers of stone and earth. As Naruto and Mizuki settle into their tight seats, a rhythmic jolt pulls them away from teh antechamber - the last little bit of defined civilization Naruto would see as they trek further into the depths. The early hum of the machinery working behind the scenes is steady, slow, but consistent.
Consistency was good.
That can be trusted, which was a hard thing to find with Mizuki. Who sat stoically behind him, gaze unwaverly fixed ahead. The flimsy lights above flicker sporadically, casting a dim glow which barely illuminates the large space around them. It took Naruto a few seconds for his eyes to adjust, but as they do, he sees the space continue to widen down the stretch. Though its hard to make sense of all these shadows dancing along damp walls - each one hid an alcove, another entrance hatch, a grated off path. The air was thick with the smell of stunted decay, a mingling of wet stone and earth that cased around him like a glove.
Naruto hated this feeling.
Being cramped down underground, a pervading sense the walls would just keep getting bigger, and bigger, and bigger. To the point where they'd keep going on endlessly into this gaping maw, down into the depths of an earthy, musty hell. Part of him wishes he were still fighting Shino above - at least he'd the benefit of fresh air. Here? Only the frustration of being constrained in this black, confining pathway.
He doesn't say any of this aloud; Mizuki was the last person would give a damn about his discomfort. Not while the trench gun rests lazily, pointing ahead as the flashlight serves as their only trusty source of sight.
As the rail car continues its journey deeper into the bowels of the earth, again the sound of rushing water echoes through the tunnel, following them as they go. Water, too, was a consistent commodity in the north. "A soldier can fight on an empty stomach, but his zeal will suffer worse from thirst," so says the Noble One. During the Drive South, he and the Senju brothers understood the importance of it in their conquest. It was why they commissioned the construction of so many dams in '51. With obvious Soviet aid, The Miyagase and Kawaguchiko reservoirs ensured the North's autonomy from Lake Biwa near Kyoto, and were used as a huge propaganda piece for their way of life: jiritsu.
"Lot of folk 'round here believe all this was carved when the partisans began their fight against Sapporo. Not totally true - not for this one, at least." Mizuki says absently, keeping the bandana about his head tight as water droplets hit him. "Most were laid down in the 30's. Meant to be used as run-offs, freshwater tanks, or transportation. It was only after the Kanto invasion were they converted into full-fledged bunkers. What remained of the IJA fled into these caverns."
"To continue fighting; yeah, I know." Naruto remembered staying awake enough during Iruka's lectures to know that much.
Hell, all his classmates and friends knew that.
"Yeah, fight. Uh-huh." Mizuki scoffs.
Old graffiti is etched on the passageways - kanji and numbers denoting different degrees of depth where the railcar would sit on the water. It all seemed very meticulous to Naruto, and confusing; how high the water rose, apparently, determined the location it would go. The tracks underneath the car, you see, were layered with grooves and edges. If the water rose a centimeter or two above a certain height, like a key the railcar would fit into its desired position, unclasp a locking mechanism, and effortlessly drift toward its determined path. Evidence of the old military heads which took over these walls and hid in them for years after the partition of Japan. Where they'd conduct punitive raids into the countryside, terrorize people on both sides of The Wall, even attacked Konoha once.
"Heard these tunnels were where the Nidaime cornered and killed most elements who went rogue." Naruto says, aloof as he tries to recall Comrade-Proctor's lesson. "Was a bloodbath here. Before he fell, people said Tobirama took out an entire battalion. Real badass stuff. Broke the insurgents's balls and even killed their leader. Don't remember the guy's name, though."
"Horuichi Yahiko." Mizuki responds without missing a beat; they pass by a tunnel veering to the right. With a hard jerk, Mizuki turns the railcar to follow.
"Yeah, ''Yahiko'..." Naruto shrugs the radio pack off him. Rubbing his stiff shoulders, his mind begins to wander as he looks at the perfectly curated walls. He never fully appreciated the history during Iruka's lessons; Comrade-Proctor was far less interesting when sober. But now he couldn't help marveling at the monumental construction. Scratch marks where demo saws and chakra-tipped blades could still be seen cut into the walls, faded lines at perfect angles running vertically to the ceiling. All to make a stronghold as enemies pressed from all sides.
He wondered what it was like for those IJA regulars who'd holed themselves up here. The Fangs at least had the benefit of getting on a bike and racing away from defeat. Here, though, the aura of it frankly reeked off the walls. Did they feel abandoned, lost in the darkness of their own making? Did fear grip their hearts as they awaited an uncertain fate, or did they still cling to the belief victory was still within reach?
The weight of this place's silence filled these tunnels now as it did then most like. Naruto imagined old, hoary soldiers huddled down, waiting for orders that never came. Safety wasn't an option in this place, the damp stone more reminiscent of a mausoleum than a glorious last stand. The Americans had their Alamo, Greeks had Thermopylae, but from what he read in his books, what Sakura recounted to him as she helped tutor during those long nights of study, the "Nezumi Senso" wasn't glorious.
Why would anyone want to fight and die in a place like this? What sort of victory would be won in these closed off, unforgiving, soulless passageways.
"Freedom."
"Huh?"
Naruto looks back; the tokubetsu jonin had himself a far-away look, a mixture between anger and abject tiredness. He guides the car lazily, hand hanging limp on both the rudder and his firearm. The man seems to blend into the dreary nature of the passage, his pale hair giving him a gaunt, drawn-out look. Like a ghost not long for this world, but not willing to concede its time here was up.
Naruto's eyebrows furrowed with confusion. "Freedom? The rebels fought for anything but; all of'em were IJA from the Southern islands or Manchuria. They didn't fight for freedom. They fought to make sure the Emperor and cronies could still be in charge."
"Never took you for one to spout the Party line, comrade Uzumaki." Mizuki says.
"And I never took a Konoha jonin not to," Naruto's bright cerulean eyes piercing the man before him. "How much longer did these guys continue spilling blood when it was obvious the war was over. More innocent people died because they didn't want to relinquish what little power they had left."
"Wouldn't call a bunch of people hiding in caves as having any power besides what they had to defend themselves with."
"Defending themselves?" Naruto was never good with history; Sakura sometimes literally had to beat her notes into. But he wasn't so young to not remember the Nayami, or "The Troubles", as they were called. "Car bombings, kidnappings, raids into Tokyo Urban? Not to mention half of'em were basically funded by the Southern government, for an Emperor who's basically a glorified hostage at this point. Nah, these people weren't freedom fighters. They were just angry. And in the end wanted to inflict as much pain on anyone unfortunate enough to get in their way. Call it whatever you want, but that doesn't sound like liberty to me."
"What the hell do you know about it - not like you were there." Mizuki says, voice the consistency as shards of ice.
"And you were?" Naruto fires back; Mizuki says nothing, does nothing, save for keeping his eyes fixed ahead. "Again: mind telling me what the fuck is going on? What's happening on the surface, Mizuki? If it's dangerous, my friends need me."
"Can't tell ya." Is all Mizuki says.
"You can't tell me."
"I can't tell ya, 'cus I don't know for sure myself."
"You seem to go in-and-out of giving the impression you do, only to then conveniently brood silently when you don't wanna talk." Naruto fidgets with the radio, so as he can turn to face Mizuki fully. "How do you know this exam is a fucking sham? Who was it orchestrated by? The Bridge Builder? Was it all just to get to me? Tell me, Mizuki, or I swear to-"
"Swear to who?!" Mizuki's eyes go white hot as his echo ripples through the cavern; the shotgun stays in place, thankfully. "Real rich coming from someone who's been alone most of their life, swearing on anybody or anything but themselves. You were selfish from the moment you were brought to the village, doing nothing if not for your own benefit. Or have you deluded yourself thinking acting like a smart-ass is in some form or fashion for the sake of others? Yeah, you smuggle a few packs of cigarettes, cheap booze, a few records, and a bottle of ibuprofen across The Wall, and you think that helps? You skim off the top, take what you can, and slurp up a few bowls of cheap noodles on the other side. While you get to enjoy your little joy rides across The Wall, shit gets worse here every day. Don't pretend you actually care, because you're no fucking different than me. Regardless of what your gross sense of entitlement tells you. The real difference between you and I is I'm honest about why I do this. You? You just do it because it's fun."
The railcar glides along the tracks smoothly, far removed from the turbulent emotions boiling in one of its passengers. Naruto takes in a deep breath of damp air, trying hard to convince himself to stay calm. He contemplated dispelling the clone body and be done with all this. He couldn't say for sure how long they traveled in silence after that, only the feel of warm chakra against his neck giving him a small bit of comfort. Made his thoughts go back to Sakura-chan, to Sasuke, how everyone else was faring above ground, and hoping things wouldn't be bad for them. Again, that old nagging feeling of trust comes up to bite him.
He doesn't let it take hold; he's too tired, and too angry to put much faith in flimsy notions.
Not with Mizuki nary being a foot away from him.
The bastard looked as hungry and gaunt as a starving wolf, the shadows of every angle, every contour of his face, casting a ghastly pallor on everything. Naruto tried to put as much distance between them as possible - which, literally, was quite difficult considering the confined space. To him, it was still unimaginable soldiers in full gear could be transported with these railcars. With just having the radio by him took up three-quarters of what was available, and considering Mizuki made no mention that they were any close to their destination, made Naruto grimace. To pass the time - which, with any amount going by, made him uneasy - Naruto tunes the nob of the radio.
Mostly, it was more garbled jargon flitting through; being underground obviously screwed with the connection, and what was being said also was still mostly in code. Naruto made out a few things more - there was an explosion, they said. Something more about..爆発? A detonation? Turning the nob a little more, adjusting the frequency ever so slightly, with any hope he figures to catch maybe a radio of a shinobi team on site.
"ちょっと待ってください - we found something!"
"It's...reporting from Sector...another fatality..."
"私の日本語が正しいかどうかを確認するためにこれを調べたなら、腰を曲げてください。しかし、ある意味では徹底的に楽しむことができま140."
"Fuck," he mumbles softly.
Each little bit of information he picks up is like a tease, the white noise burrowing deeper into his psyche like a splinter. No matter how much he tried to pick it out, his worry would only go higher as this sense of unease deepened. Sure, he and Team 7 had been on plenty of missions before. Dog-walking, Wall scouting, escort missions here and there; most of the time, Comrade-Sensei Kakashi left the heavy lifting for more accomplished field op teams. But nothing insofar which caused Naruto's nerves to go afire like this.
Wiping the sweat from his forehead, Naruto suppressed a cough; the heat of the fever was climbing. Refusing to break, it clung to him like second skin, pressing down with an intensity making it difficult to think. This oppressive sensation in his stomach, though, twisted him into knots. Maybe it was the excitement of the entire ordeal. Maybe he was hungry - this was the longest he'd ever kept a shadow clone active, and the weight of it was taking its toll.
How else to explain the fever dream from before. It, too, never left him. Not fully. Afflicting him like a lash, the sting of all those sensations and emotions - of course, it occurred this tunnel felt awfully reminiscent of what Naruto'd seen. Much like the fragments he got listening to the radio, bits and pieces flew about his mind. A voice - or voices - called to him. In as many languages as he didn't understand. Forcing him to make sense of them all.
A pervading feeling to find them.
...You're okay...
Suddenly, out from his hazy depths, the faint sound of Sakura's voice catches him. Bright, cheerful, and elated; it painted a bright contrast to his bleakness. Naruto didn't know what got her so happy, but he meant to hang onto this feeling. It was the lone tether which kept himself grounded. As deep down, Naruto knew he didn't belong here; this was a place of shadows and forgotten tales.
As the railcar continues on its lonely journey, blue orbs of light flicker off the surface of the water, their glow battling to stay alight. The Onibi, those wisps of forgotten spirits gather close as the car approaches. Most like they felt the warmth of their presence, and longed for a semblance of what their past lives must've felt like. Naruto feels a pang of sadness for them. Rebel or not, this place must've felt like a prison. This was an eerie realm to be attuned to for eternity, a crueler purgatory than many deserve.
Mizuki tells Naruto to pay them no mind - unlike the oni who'd been tracking for quite a bit now. Naruto smelled the damn thing before he could even see it; it was a suffocating, heavy musk hanging over them like a cross. Its grunting sounds grew clearer when it drew close. Naruto could hear the cracking of its knuckles, the labored shuffle of its feet, and its low, raspy breaths. It even spoke, too. A form of old Japanese not many nowadays could make out. Every step it mumbled a word or a phrase. Closer, closer, closer still, till Mizuki fired a warning shot of dragon's breath into the darkness. The blast rings out, and a plume of fire lights up the confines of the passage. The oni shouts, curses, and retreats - figuring easier prey could be found elsewhere. But by the light Naruto is caught off-guard
A large splat of red covers the wall by his side.
The onibi trickle along its outlines like fireflies following a path. Blotchy, bloated and rough-looking; the graffiti covers a large portion of the concrete. Time did little to fade the paint from history, the red cloud looking fresh and slick as it probably once did many years ago. In the center, Naruto sees the large white kanji 暁 inscribed there. "Akatsuki...?" he mumbles.
"Dawn...Or daybreak. Whichever you prefer." Mizuki turns the rudder of the railcar, and Naruto feels the jerking motion pulling them to the left as they come across another shift in the path.
"The name of the insurgency..." Naruto relays, glazing over the lines of words scribbled underneath. "'Tomorrow, together'."
"It wasn't the name they gave themselves. That was a misquote from Hokkaido. Yahiko never called the group the 'Akatsuki'; it was the title of a poem he used to recite."
Naruto had never heard of such a thing; none of that was ever covered in there textbooks, the ones Iruka and all their Comrade-Proctors drilled into them since they were little. The State issued texts ever said the Akatsuki insurgency predicated itself on the dissolution and disbarment of the rightfully victorious People's Government. That their localized cells were, in fact, pawns of the Southern regime. Orchestrated by the traitor Danzo Shimura, and levied and supplied by American imperialists, the Akatsuki organization was one of the first major hurdles the Sapporo State needed to overcome in order to enforce legitimacy.
None of that ever mentioned poetry before.
"'I have returned to my village after twenty years," Mizuki goes, the railcar ever rolling in a slow malaise. "No sign of friends or relatives - they have all died and gone away. My dreams are shattered by the sound of the temple bell struck at sunrise. An empty floor, no shadows; the light has long been extinguished.'"
"Sounds sad."
"Yeah, Yahiko could be sometimes." Mizuki responds soberingly, mind caught in a reverie never to be shared. "It's a poem written by Ryokan Taigu in the 18th century. He was outlawed by the Sapporo State Committee once they'd came to power. Ya know, the usual Bolshevik brain drain which saw any intellectual property not overtly pro-proletariat to be potentially seditious."
If Mizuki said any such thing above ground or anywhere within earshot, well, it would be slapped in a stockade and beaten with a hundred lashes. Maybe even more; the punishments for jonin were particularly harsh, and ever ended with educational rehabilitation. Made Naruto think twice about saying something clever. He wanted to, but better judgement decided against it. Besides, these poem did sound sad; he thought they were all written to be about love stories and romance, or old guys being all sad sitting by the ocean.
These didn't sound like the words a rabble-rousing terrorist leader would recite for his men.
Nor could they be readily known to anyone not in the know.
Their railcar comes to a jerking stop along the tracks - Naruto sees they've come to a paddock carved into a small alcove along the wall. There awaiting them is a slick, metal ladder. It leads up from the drop-off, hundreds of feet above, to a rusted latch into the ceiling. Mizuki tells Naruto to get off, which he promptly does, and is soon followed. The radio is still buzzing, picking up random frequencies along the way, but its chatter is inconsequential; the depth, the amount of traffic, and the protected lines don't reveal much.
Mizuki tells Naruto it's expected; they've traveled far what it's worth. Thankfully, mercifully, without a hitch. Even the onibi seemed to behave themselves, the wayward spirits seemingly complacent and willing to let the living pass them on by. "They don't normally bother people unless warranted." Mizuki says, waving one off before it got too close. "They're looking for company is all. Lonely place, ya know."
Lonely, indeed.
Naruto never thought he would feel relieved being back in the Forest of Death, but the long climb up the ladder, past the old, bent storm door hidden in the hollow of a tree, was worth feeling fresh air again. Even if tinged by the remnant stink of bunker complex, and the sobering company of the onibi lights and the token oni-troll. Naruto took in a deep breath as he stooped over a tree stump, trying to catch himself. His earlier curiosity for what lay beneath them was drained by this ceaseless feeling of fatigue. He must've looked worse than he thought when even Mizuki commented if he was all right. A RARE hint of concern in his voice.
"Sure, yeah...I'm good," he says.
He wasn't, but he was going to bellyache to this man.
They continued along a small, worn path cutting through the brush of the wood. The light about them seemed to fade, as a low-hanging sun casted its last warmth over the landscape. A soft moon balanced itself in a misty purple sky, while a few stars twinkled into view. Must be later in the day than Naruto supposed; how long were they underground for? And then it hit him, too, the fog previously enveloping everything seemed to have lifted, too. Only a few scant traces hung at the thick roots of moss-covered trees.
"Finally," Mizuki remarks, breaking the silence as he continues to lead the way. Naruto asks what he meant by that. "What?" the jonin shrugs. "You thought all that before was natural? It was practically oozing with chakra. It was one of the ROOT agents sent to 'test' you. Her speciality is stealth and concealment. Was a pain in the ass tracking through all that."
The agent's name was Watanabe Akeginu. She was one of the six gathered for this occasion, selected and vetted by Yakushiji Tenzen himself. Alongside Aburame Shino, Tsuchi Kin, Chikuma Koshiro, and Abumi Zaku. Their identities were kept from Konoha to ensure the "integrity" of the testing; ROOT deemed the village had too many leaks to divulge such information to Konoha, and didn't trust Asuma to not inform his ninja beforehand.
"ANBU keeps records of every shinobi's rank, class, clan, and skill in their library. And most all ROOT operatives come directly from the Hidden Leaf. You don't think Kakashi or your little friend Sasuke wouldn't try to pull some strings to give you guys an edge? I mean, sure, s'fine to me: not like when you go into battle you won't know something of your enemy beforehand. But, again, this whole exam wasn't meant to test your acumen for handling a war zone."
"Five." Naruto pants, frustration creeping into his voice as they continue to climb higher. "You only gave me five names."
"Yeah..." Mizuki pauses, a bedraggled look marring his face. Damn, does he look older, Naruto thinks. Worse than Comrade-Sensei Kakashi. "Sixth man is an unknown. A veritable 'X' we can't identify. From what Bridge Builder passed on, that operative's entire file is one giant blacklist. But Tenzen signed off on them months in advance. Giving rise to the assumption this ploy was in motion a long way back."
Naruto's mind twists into a knot, and his stomach churns into a ball of pain; heat generates from within the center of his core, putting his nerves afire, as images of the line of masked figures behind his sensei come back to memory. None had discernible features worth identifying. But their sight in his mind awakens an urge, a pang of anxiety, deep from within.
"Why did the Bridge Builder specifically want me outta there? Please, Mizuki.." That word stings his mouth, for Naruto was too proud to plead. Call it a side-affect of hanging with Sasuke for too long, but mewling to a person not particularly liked made him sound like a child. An entitled child...
Which, as it appears, Mizuki pegged him for.
But in this, a final relent, as the man sighs again. Not in anger, but in utter weariness.
"I already told you I don't know much myself. These things...are way above my pay-grade, Naruto. So, If you wanna know..." Mizuki steps aside, nodding his head forward, urging Naruto to go ahead. "He's the one you gotta talk to."
In the small clearing ahead of them, a cloaked and hooded figure crouches over the stump of a fallen tree. A line of shining lights cut the purple and pink backdrop as Naruto spies the overlooks of The Wall dividing his country. Along with the signal fires dotting all up and around Metro's skyscrapers in the far off distance. As Naruto got closer, he could make out the man's features neath his hood. Gray hair framed a weathered face with swarthy skin and broad shoulders. He was old - not as old as Naruto suspected, but old enough to see the lines of time etched on his somewhat pleasant visage. In him he felt an odd mix of respect and apprehension, as the Bridge Builder looks up from a notebook he's writing in, and smiles.
"Naruto..."
His voice crackles like a split log over an open fire. Warm and disarming, it almost causes Naruto to drop his guard entirely. AS he approaches, he doesn't know if it was more respectful to treat the Bridge Builder like an old friend, or a subordinate does to his captain. He greets him with an unsure, "Hello, sir". Bowing comically, awkwardly; like he was newly minted five year taught proper manners for the first time. It makes the Bridge Builder laugh, a sound like a score of upturned rocks spilling into water.
"Ha! See, Mizuki, this is what I'm talking about: respect. Since when have you ever bowed to me?" Off in the corner, Mizuki 'humphs' into his crossed arms and glares. Bridge Builder sets done his notepad, waving Naruto closer like a grandfather. "I'm glad to see you. Honestly, I thought we were going to be too late."
"Mizuki tells me you wanted to me out of there, sir," Naruto takes in the man's figure - he's definitely built like one for manual labor, he sees. His frame is hardy and whole, a man who looks to boast plentiful meals when given the chance. Not like many folk around here Naruto knew. "He says...you have a message."
"Aye," Bridge Builder nods his head. "I do. And it's this: be aware. Be careful. And stay alive. You're a wanted man, kid. You and a few of your friends have caught the eye of some interesting characters round these parts."
"More interesting than you?" Naruto says, causing Bridge Builder to laugh once more.
"Oh, most definitely," he goes. "And who are far more devious than my little brain could ever hope to compete with. I'm sure you know a little of what's going on - that was all by design. I'm sure Mizuki told you as much on your way. But, I'm sure you'd like to know more. Well, shall I? Please?"
The Bridge Builder motions for the radio still around Naruto's shoulders to be given to him. Naruto was glad to be rid of its confounding weight, but Bridge Builder handles it with surprising ease. Although he couldn't readily see them fully, Naruto could tell the man's forearms were corded with muscle.Old, but jacked,he ponders, as thick fingers work the frequency tuner back and forth. Naruto tells him he already got what he could from DPRJ lines, of an accidental mishap occurring. A bad one. With casualties and too many injured. Naruto asks the old man if he'd anything to do with it, to which Bridge Builder merely shakes his head "no".
"I knew 'something' was going to occur, but not positive as to what. With the little information I had, only thing I could do was sit and wait until their plans unfolded..."
Suddenly, a man's voice comes over the radio. Naruto doesn't recognize the droning tone, soft in its pronunciations, yet dripping with formality as he punctuates every vowel. Over the broadcast, he sounds more like a mooing cow than a someone relating the dastardly tragedy occurring at Ginza Train Station. Many were injured, the man, says remorsefully. Deaths were accounted for, but the totality of tears were to be incalculable, the sorrow interminable."My heart is full, but my hopes are steady. That in these trying times, my faith will be rewarded, and just action will be taken. Swiftly, and after a proper investigation into the matter is recorded. I plead with my people to stay calm, rest assured, and be consoled by truth. We live in the shadows of fear and doubt, but we will not succumb to them. Pray that those committed to your protection will not falter..."
"Emperor Hirohito," The Bridge Builder goes. "Addressing the people after an incident occurring at Ginza train station earlier today. Public word is it was a mechanical failure due to one of the bullet train's motors. Privately, however, well...doesn't take a lot to assume what happened there, is any different from the attack here."
Attack?
Naruto wasn't nearly as floored by that comment as he could've been; everything pointed to some form of attack on Konoha. But from who, and for what reason? Were his friends okay?
"You're friends aren't meant to be the victims here, Naruto, but the priority: you're all here for evaluation, but not for some field trip to Vietnam. The enemy is hedging bets on who's going to be most useful to them in the upcoming conflict. You and a few others were specifically chosen to be assessed to see if your skills had...matured in the time you've all grown."
"Chosen...by who? Start talking sense! None of us would eventhinkabout betraying the village if it were attacked!" Naruto says this with conviction - even if he didn't so much fight for Konoha, he would for the people in it. Sasuke, Sakura, Iruka, Kakashi, even Asuma - all of them. They were the only ones who made him whole, and he'd die a thousand times if it mean protecting them.
Bridge Builder wasn't so sure, though.
"Hmph, who? The million dollar question. Could be one person, or several. Problem is I''m not sure, and that's a problem: I'm a man who makes a living off of knowing things. To not is...disconcerting. So, I hope you'll be willing to help me correct that. Tell me: Hakkō ichiu. These words have any meaning to you?" They did and didn't. "Eight crown chords, one roof". Naruto understood them as the means by the the Shogunate had enforced the preeminence of Japanese imperialism during the war, but beyond that, to him it was another phrase printed on too many handbooks and posters. No different than what he and his classmates see every day from Sapporo.
"That sentiment was not merely a means to ferment warmongering among the people. It was a belief influenced by Nazi Germany's own proposed theories of a 'master race'. An ubermensch ideology. The Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere was predicated these such individuals were going to lead it. These 'chojin'. But with war's end in Europe, and the tides beginning to turn against them, the Japanese government invested much time, money, and effort sequestering Nazi scientists and their research out of Germany to continue their pursuits here. As a last ditch effort to counter Allied advances. Konoha shinobi were tantamount in this assignment's execution. And its application, for the Hidden Leaf Village is one such site meant to groom the next batch of 'chojin'. A group you and your classmates comprise."
Overall, the feeling Naruto got was like a brick lobbed directly into his mouth. A spike in pain from his stomach jolted him awake, though its nausea nearly crippled him to the ground, too. He coughed, dry-heaved, began to pant with panic; as Bridge Builder merely looked at him with those kind, yet pained eyes. Impossible, Naruto wants to say. It cannot be done, he wants to think; the Senju brothers fought against the War Cabinet and their influences. Nazi scientists? "Chojin"? All former plans were ground to a halt when the Soviets and Sanzo came hurdling from the North.
"Yes, the brothers rebelled against the War Cabinet. But only until much later, and only when it was known Nosaka was returning with Soviet and Chinese support. Sapporo likes to gloss over Konoha was just as much a part of the Shogunate's military arm as their's. And the Senju's were just as much a part of that as any." Bridge Builder says.
"But...Hashirama...Tobirama...The Shodai and Nidai Hokage would never have allowed such things to continue. That's too fucking low, even for Hokkaido to...to hide." Naruto's heart is racing, and the heat is burning him up. It takes all his concentration to keep the clone steady and the voices at bay.
The voices...What are these voices...
Bridge Builder nods, but shrugs those heavy shoulders of his. "Hashirama wanted to put a stop to the experiments, but Tobirama thought otherwise. Without access to nuclear technology, the North a trump card to defend itself. The Noble One agreed. And so in secret, Nosaka and Sapporo kept the research not destroyed at Hiroshima and Nagasaki. It was all written down. In a scroll. A scroll I mean for you to steal."
Bridge Builder tells Naruto his intentions. The use of the Akatsuki tunnels in the past helped shuffle material all through this forest unseen. Naruto was going to do the same. Crossing in over The Wall to the harbor was too risky now with the Ginza station compromised. Naruto will use Aokigahara's bunker networks to work through to the other side. Security around Konoha was obviously going to be doubled, filled in by ROOT officers and commissars from Sendai now. Outsiders, the Bridge Builder says, who won't know the land and will be too busy dealing with their own schemes to notice Naruto and Mizuki.
Naruto's heart raced; thoughts of stealing from his own village a foreign, dangerous notion.
"I-I don't know if I can do this. This...it's unlike anything I've ever - you've ever - told me. I'm not going to tip the scales of anything - I'm a smuggler. I take things from one place, and bring it to another. That's it. I'm not super at anything." Naruto says this disbelievingly, a first for him to ever have such doubt heaped onto his person.
But Bridge Builder leans forward, bulk moving like a boulder rolling down a hill, and with his weathered features and knowing gaze he points to Tokyo. The skyline shines against the dwindling light, The Wall a jagged line symbolizing the division plaguing Naruto's world. Yet, despite the distance Naruto felt an inexplicable pull towards the vibrant life pulsating through the streets of Metro. He could almost hear the echoes of laughters and the shouts of street vendors, the neon lights casting colorful reflections on the pavement. The wayward lives of the street urchins plying their way back and forth. How he wished he could be there so badly right now. To get lost in its world of endless options.
A cruel notion, but no crueler then what Konoha did to him, Bridge Builder says.
"I've watched you for a while, kid, and I know what you want." He said, tone a blend of softness and strength. "You deserve more than this place gives you. More than the beatings, propaganda, the games these bureaucrats play. All to train children to kill one another. For a way of life that takes them inexorably to a stone slab in the ground with a few words etched on it. Your mother died for those words. And all it did was keep you away from what you truly need."
Anger bubbled within Naruto. Kushina. Again. A figure shrouded in fog and fragments, little more than a whisper of a dream of a legend to him. She was a non-memory to Naruto, and dwelling on her bones did nothing. What was the point blaming her for something she wasn't to him.
Conflicted, Naruto takes a step back. "What could she have possibly kept me from by dying, huh?"
The Bridge Builder's steady gaze meets his with pity. "Freedom." The man nods his gray mop of hair, and pats the boy's shoulder. The simplicity of the words strike a chord deep within Naruto. "I don't like digging up skeletons," the man continues. "You can make up whatever assumptions about your ma on your own without anyone telling you otherwise. But I know Kushina. She was given a bad hand. And you and your friends ought to have someone in your corner, with the balls to tell you the truth about this charade you're all playing."
Truth?
What was truth to a shinobi. Most of his conceivable life he'd been taught truth was a malleable thing. Words can be changed to whatever you want them to, to fit a story of your own crafting; to confuse, to dissuade, to form a reality intended to deceive and disturb. People's laziness ever gets in the way of reason - no one wants to think for themselves, if if others can give them the answers so readily. Part of why Naruto only ever believed in himself.
But now the Bridge Builder asks to trust him.
"I've asked a lot of you over the years, Naruto. You've taken on a lot of risk for me. Which is why I'm now giving you a choice. Something the State seldom gives." He goes, reaching into the notebook he was writing in to pull out a slip of paper. "If you want to keep your friends safe from a war that's assuredly coming, this is how you do it. Say yes, and you're a part of this now. For good and always. But if it's too much - if you want out, I'll take it from here. No more late night excursions. No more fighting with gangsters. No more risking your life for booze, smokes, and whatever else you can fit in a duffle bag. All of it is over."
"Over?"
Bridge Builder's smile creases the corners of his face, as he sees the hesitation in Naruto's face. The man knows Naruto could very easily out him if he wants, report to Asuma and the ANBU all the dealings he'd conducted himself in. Mizuki's shotgun makes more sense now that he thinks about it. He wondered what the look on their faces might be when they realize he wasn't real Naruto, but a clone.
Yet, deep down Naruto wouldn't think of doing that.
Since he was thirteen in some form or fashion this man was a constant in his life, and that consistency could be trusted. Yes, life could be easier if Naruto said 'no'. He didn't need always the lash, the beatings, the incessant lectures telling him who to be. If he said "no", he could finally be the comrade the Village expected. His friends deserved more from Naruto - more maturity, more responsibility, more attention to bettering himself instead of playing the fool.
But, what was foolish about keeping everyone safe?
Because what the Village expected of its people, what the State wanted, wasn't safety. Jiritsu wasn't a mantra to feed the people; it told them to endure, to save yourself, to survive. War wasn't averted by that sentiment, it supported it. As conflict was a notion beat into every Konoha ninja at an early age; the battle for survival was imminent, the DPRJ's way of life at danger every waking moment. If the Noble One's State, a bastion of the beating heart of the proletariat in Japan was wiped off the earth, all the blood spent under the tyranny of the Shogunate would be for nothing.
But Naruto never was enamored by that kind of talk. And traveling through the Akatsuki tunnels only strengthened that resolve. Fighting to the end did not always result in a glorious martyrdom, but sometimes an ignoble tragedy.
It was here Naruto understood really there only one choice that made sense.
"I'll do it," Naruto declared, words escaping him with newfound resolve. "For my friends."
"Bene." A proud smile creases the Bridge Builder's lips, a flicker of approval sparking his eyes. Slashing his hand swiftly, he then presses it against the parchment and pressed it tightly into Naruto's palm. Naruto almost flinched at the Bridge Builder's strong grip, before ripping his hand away from his grip. There he finds a a series of symbols and letters scribbled neatly into fine lines.
Suddenly, Mizuki comes up behind them. Shotgun at the ready, he gives the Bridge Builder a hesitant stare as he looks over his shoulder. Company, he says with a rush. "A patrol maybe." Mizuki isn't sure how many, or if they were ROOT or ANBU. The Bridge Builder at first doesn't acknowledge the warning, save only he presses to Naruto the importance of the message.
"Konoha Library is where you'll find where the scroll's being kept. What I've written here will help; Mizuki will watch out for you for the time being. For safety. Trust no one but him." The Bridge Builder's grip presses tightly, the feel of his blood pressed warm and sticky into the palm of his hand. "If you've still got any doubts, this will corroborate what I've said. The path ahead won't be easy, kid. But sometimes, the hardest journeys lead us to where we truly belong."
"No, wait! I can't take this." Naruto says with a panic as he sees Mizuki swivel the shotgun barrel around; footsteps and shouts are heard, getting closer to their position. It's a whole squad, Mizuki tells them. They needed to make themselves scarce, and fast. "You don't understand," Naruto though pleads. "I'm not really here. I mean, yes, I am. But not really. I'm a-"
"A shadow clone?." The Bridge Builder smiles at him. "Just make sure you don't wash your hands for a bit."
"What?"
Bridge Builder nods, quickly stepping away from Naruto. Confusion washes over Naruto as he sees Mizuki point the gun against his chest. The bastard even has the audacity to wink at him, shit-eating grin spreading across his face. "Don't worry," he says. "It'll be over quick."
Before he's even able to get out a "Fuck you," an intense surge of pain courses through his body's sharper than anything he's ever experienced. Memories and experiences flood back - visions of laughter, warmth, faces of his friends, moments intertwined with fear and loss and Sakura-chan's voice. A bright light bores down on him, consuming all he sees...
Until, he finally is able to blink it all away. Mizuki is gone. The Bridge Builder, too. The dark environs of Aokigahara vanish. All that's left is a vague recollection of Mizuki's grin, the gunshot, and the Bridge Builder's last words. Soon, swiftly replaced by the sterile scent of antiseptic, the soft beeping of EKG monitors punctuating the silence, and sheets crisp and white covering him to keep him warm.
They do well to hide the handcuffs chaining him to his hospital bed.