Transmission #2-4-1-0; Designate "Cyrax"
North Side the Wall, Tokyo Urban; Hidden Village: "Leaf"/ Secure Zone "Raijin"- ROOT Protection Services
Subject 9's dreams persist with little reprieve; further questioning reveals little. Friends, strangers, and new allies all carry the promise of a new enemy
December 5, 1963
Where is it...Where is it...
His fingers dance hectically, frantically, feverishly across the console's keyboard. His lab coat is scorched and bloodied, the burns on his back rack him - literally does he feel the skin bubble, sizzle, and peel by every flinch, any twitch he gives. The cuts above his forehead, where flying bits of plaster and cement - like shrapnel - scalped bits of his head clean off by the force from the blast. Bloodied, burned, partially melted; Naruto feels more like a gaping ulcer now than any kind of human. A demon left to haunt these hallways. Searching for answers, searching for help, searching for...for...
"Where is it?!"
Naruto's breathing was shallow, the stagnant air of the bunker filling his lungs. Flickering lights of the complex sputter above, casting shadows on the cold, metallic walls if the silo, dancing like specters watching his every move. Somewhere in the distance, water drips from a busted pipe. Fires crackle faintly in the distance, smoke curling lazily through vents which had ceased to function.
Even in decay this place was alive in its decay,
Naruto didn't know how long he'd been here, or how much time he had. But as his burned out eyes look towards the computer screen - his eyelids having been scorched off when the fireball erupted into the lab, he ever made sure to cast a backward glance every now and then.
He was alone.
Isolated.
For now, safe.
Safe from him.
The amber-eyed man.
Naruto minds the issued sidearm all personnel on base were issued. He'd never used one before; hell, why would he ever need to fire a gun - he was a goddamn scientist! Yes, Frau Doktor said to all of them they were merely precautionary; only meant to be used in case of an emergency. When he heard that, though, he scoffed; if the enemy managed to fight their way past the checkpoint, through the tunnels, down to the first entryway of the laboratory. There was nothing a bunch of white lab coats were liable to do to stop them.
Then it dawned on Naruto why the pistols were really issued, and that realization made his skin blanch.
The information here needed to be protected at all costs. The research, the data collection, the equipment meant to replicate the experiments - all were meant to be destroyed at the prospect of eventual capture.
Including the men and women who'd devoted themselves to authoring the next chapter of humanity's story.
Focusing on the computer in front of him, his fingers fly across the worn down console, the clatter of keys echoing against the cavernous room. The monitor flickers with lines of code appearing and vanishing in maddening unpredictability. It practically feels like he's fighting the machine itself for answers - He nearly turns the pistol on it. But he needed to find the answer to the question frstering like a wound refusing to heal. Its haunted him since that night back at the library. When his clone fought the masked figure in the shadows, a battle of steel that left both battered, and one bloodied. That night, the kunai he used had been sharp and precise, and when it struck, the truth spilled out with it.
A name.
A name written on the Shinigami Map.
He hadn't wanted to believe it. Even now, sitting in this cursed bunker, his hands trembling as he typed, he couldn't believe it as it shook Naruto to his core...
That night had been a sleepless one for him, and the next morning was even worse. Naruto went through his motions on autopilot; speaking little, doing less. Too tired to train, too confused to face his teammates, he'd turned himself off from the world in order to collect himself. Even Mizuki decided it was best to go easy on him. And as he returned to his dorm, cozied up in the stillness of his little world, his thoughts kept circling to the little green container of mementos tucked under his bed.
His mom gave it to him, a small box filled with fragments of her life. But he hadn't dared open it.
Not yet.
...Wait
Kunai...?
Library...?
What the devil is a Shinigami map?
Why is he having these thoughts of things he'd no knowledge of, or part in. Of people he'd never even met before?
Sakura Haruno...? Mizuki...? Sasuke...Uchiha?
Uchiha..?
Like the names of all those guardsman posted outside the facility. Was that boy a member of their patrols; he'd never known a Sasuke amongst them. And all the time it took them to get to to Japan, they'd little to do with the so-called "hidden village". The spec-ops team who retrieved them, who got Frau Doktor and the rest of the team out of Berlin, just as the Ivans began salivating cutting their throats. They were ninja, too. Sent personally by Tojo himself, and lead by a dashing gentleman. His name was...
Sarutobi.
Yes, that was his name! But that isn't the one he was looking for, and the more he flitted through the green lines of code against the black screen did he feel a deepening pit begin to form. Right there - in the center of his belly. It threatened to cave him in, suck out his heart, cast him away into another hell he didn't deserve to be in. Oh, he should've never left Germany. He should've stayed behind like all the rest of them; perhaps, if he'd done so the Americans or Brits would've taken pity on him.
Unlike those dammable glowing eyes that watched his every move.
Just then, a noise pulls Naruto from his thoughts—a faint, almost imperceptible thump. His fingers freeze over the keyboard, his breath hitching in his throat as he strains his ears to listen.
The fires crackle. The water drips. The console hums faintly.
But it comes again, he hears it. A footstep in the darkness. Followed by another, then another, till soon the steps come inexorably towards him. Again, his mind drifts to the pistol in his side holster.
"That is not of interest to us, Comrade Uzumaki. Should be obvious the more time you waste, the longer you'll be stuck here." the voice reverberates along the metal bindings of the silo. Naruto stops, turns, points his Luger towards no one; he sounds so close, but all he sees is shadow. "What did I just say; the last time you pointed a gun, you shot me. It didn't work. Care to try again?"
"Who are you!" Naruto shouts at the twisting dark shapes along the walls - which one is him, he couldn't tell. Again, the Luger shakes in his untested, untrained grip. "I'm warning you: this area is off-limits to any without proper clearance. You SHOULDN'T be down here!"
"You're one to talk about where one should and shouldn't be," The voice says.
This time, Naruto doesn't hesitate; the harsh snap of his first shot ricochets off the far wall, snapping his wrist backwards. While the second and third rounds pings off a metal plate, sparking as they fly, and followed by a tell-tale hiss. The amber-eyed man laughs hollowly, sounding adrift like a bottle bobbing up and down a quiet, black ocean. It sounds like he's all about him, circling like a vulture waiting to pick the carcass clean. Though, Naruto figured there wasn't much left of him anyways.
"You've gone where you wished in the past, Comrade Uzumaki. Why is this so different? You've dreamed before. Of many things. I know." Two lantern like orbs glow off in the distance. Naruto takes aim, but his hand's shaking too much. Instead he waits, and waits, and waits; listening to the voice gloating at him. Continuously calling him "Comrade Uzumaki"... Ah, Kuznetsov! Of course! He's after her...or what's left. That had to be it! No...NO! He wasn't going to have her. Alive or dead - he can't be allowed to take her.
"You dream, within a dream, within a dream, that isn't yours to protect." The orbs glow brighter, hotter; all while the footsteps continue to come closer. "These memories are not beholden to you. They are but figments of a different time, of a different place; holdovers from an individual no longer with us. Like an immune system, your psyche is trying to fend me off like some sort of viral contagion. But I promise you, Comrade Uzumaki, we will uncover the truth hidden inside. Together...Isn't that right, Frau Doktor?"
"What?"
Naruto picks her head up away from the desk. It is crammed with piles upon piles of paperwork, stacked so high she couldn't possibly be expected to get to any of. At least, not in a timely enough fashion. She needed a secretary. A good one. Yet, the last two proved too slow, and she'd little patience for amateurs. Especially, ones who couldn't;t even push papers around. To deal, she'd been spending more nights cavorting in their makeshift little pub on base. Playing Schafkopf with the team till the wee hours of the night. And losing what little pettilance she still had to her name.
"It's too early for this - I told you not to bother me unless it was important. Or if you brought me some Fernet and Coca-cola " She goes, brushing a lone strand of pale blonde hair behind her ear.
"This is important; you're simply neglecting it. For reasons which are still escaping me." Dan moves and seats himself about her desk, tucking his lab coat neath his arm. He looked handsome today. He looked handsome most every day; that studious face framed with caring eyes, pale brown hair going through the motions of some premature graying. It was foolish of her to find him so attractive, just as it was for him to reciprocate. Ugh, damn him and those kind eyes. "Come now, what's on your mind? Something's been troubling you these last three months. Tell me, and no lying. I'll know it if you do."
"Do you know me so well?" She chides.
"I think I know what's bothering you," Dan said, his voice warm, teasing, as he rests his hip on her desk and leans in slightly.
Tsunade raised an eyebrow. "Oh you do?"
"Yes," he replied, his tone light as he reached out to gently poke her side. "You're afraid of retiring."
That caught her attention. Her head snapped up, golden eyes narrowing at him, but Daniel's playful grin didn't falter.
"You detest the thought of not doing anything with that amazing brain of yours," he continued, ignoring her warning glare. "Once this project is over, that's it. We're finished. All over. You've done your part playing god, and then it'll be time for us to fade into nothing."
Like Zeus, Odin, Thor; the God of Samuel, and Isaac, and Moses?" she quipped, her voice sharp, though there was a flicker of amusement in her tone.
"Precisely." He chuckles softly.
She sighs, leaning back in her chair and rubbing her temples. "Gods don't go away, Dan. They simply become more resentful." She goes, tapping her fingers nervously over the file that's sat at her desk for weeks, the one she's refused to open.
Dan's expression softens, his teasing demeanor giving way to concern. Or blissful ignorance, considering he plainly doesn't wish to acknowledge what is right there in front of them. That there were too many outside factors to consider, too many complications she didn't foresee. Out of all the test subjects brought from Germany, braving the arduous journey across the Eurasian continent, only three viable candidates remain. "The other six," she continued, her voice quiet as she recalls the failed logs, "they couldn't take it. The energy devoured them from the inside out. All their bodies, right down to the molecular level, literally… fell apart." Her hands clench to fists, trembling slightly at the memory. "A human body wasn't meant to withstand that kind of pressure. Even with the carefully curated bloodlines, the genetic sequencing, the right lab environment—it's not enough. I'm starting to think 'perfection' might just be unattainable."
Daniel moved around the desk, kneeling beside her chair so he could look up into her eyes. "You're too pretty to let yourself give in to failure," he said softly, his sweet, loving smile breaking through her hardened exterior.
Tsunade couldn't help the small smirk that tugged at her lips, though her eyes remained clouded with doubt. "Flattery won't change the facts, Dan."
"No, but it might remind you of why we started this in the first place," he said, his voice steady. "We knew it wouldn't be easy. Pushing the boundaries of human potential never is. You've always been the one to make the impossible possible, though."
"It's not your faith I need right now." She tells him, unable to help the small smirk tugging at her lips. Her thoughts are still clouded with doubt, and she has become jaded through this entire ordeal. Gods, she was so tired. All she wanted to do was sleep, but Dan wouldn't let her. "Flattery won't change the facts, Dan."
"Normally, I'd agree. The intrinsically incontrovertible data we've acquired through precise formulaic arithmetic, is immune to vapid whimsies. You're smarter than that. But..." He goes, piling on the charm. She knows what he's about to ask, though she's denied him countless times before. "We still have one avenue open to us. We always had. Just because the other candidates are faltering, doesn't mean our efforts should go to waste."
"No." She tells him once softly, the next with more force. "No!"
"We ran the tests - we've seen it. The R1a haplogroup has two sub-divisions within the gene pool. My blood through the patrilineal line encapsulates a majority of the Z282 Aryan sequence; I've an eighty-two percent match between me and most of our prior candidates." There's a level of excitement in Daniel's eyes which is both admiring and a bit terrifying. The man looks like the first Cro-Magnon bequeathed fire as Prometheus steals away from Olympus. Or a cat anxious to finally get at the canary.
He'd never lost faith throughout this entire process. Though it was a hard thing knowing whether it was for her, or for..."the other".
Yes, through these sleepless nights of drinking, gambling, and cheap dime-store smoke - Golden Bat cigarettes here in Hiroshima just didn't have the same kick as a old-fashioned Sturm, Daniel proved good company. Yet, he too had his own vices. From time to time, she'd see him sneaking away down to the silos. Dan would play it off as if he was simply checking calibrations, but she wasn't stupid: she could hear rambling, talking aloud as if there were another present with him. Soon as she turned the corner, the charade would end, and Daniel would be there with his easy-going smile pretending nothing was amiss.
She never pressed him on it - Maybe she should've. These long days spent in the labs had begun to weigh heavy on everyone; their journey here was unforgiving, taking its toll on practically everyone. The entire team had picked up some odd habit or two - Gustav was a chainsmoker now, Frieda became germaphobic, Emile became prone to shaking fits. Talking with one self was the least damning one of them all - every scientist does it.
Yet...
Normally...
When one stopped talking, the conversation would end.
For Dan they didn't.
"I told you before, and I'm telling you again: No!" She says, grabbing at the rice wine bottle beside her, and filling her cup.
"When we first started, Himmler was a bumbling idiot fumbling around with theories and hypotheses. But we are so far removed from those days, my love. Through all our trials, all our errors, we've learned from those mistakes, and perfected our procedural process. Alls we need now is a fresh start: a strong, healthy prospect, untouched from previous experimentation. I will be fine."
"You don't know that." She says, throwing down the warm, tepid sake. "We're already taking a chance with the other two candidates, witnessing a complete breakdown of their genetic code. No matter how much we follow protocol, Dan, the human body is not able to harness this energy. Kuznetsov - she's the only one who's managed. But that is because BOTH her genetic lines encompass Z282 AND Z93 R1a haplogroups - her blood is a literal time-capsule. It goes all the way back to the Stone Age. No matter how close anyone else can be, she is the sole person able to make contact past the gates."
Dan doesn't like that answer.
His smile vanishes, turning into an acidic frown, his knuckles go white and his eyes glow bright with rage. She's caught off guard, startlingly, so. As the once warm hazelnut eyes of her coworker, friend, lover turn to fiery sparks threatening to burn out of his skull. "No!" He screams out - both in fury and pain; fire sprouts from his cheeks, beneath his carotid, all about his. "You're wasting our time!" Dan goes, before his entire face is engulfed in flames.
Naruto fires his Luger once more into the man - two shots this time directly into his chest. His breathing comes fast and shallow, his chest heaving as he grips the Luger in his trembling hand. Knuckles go white against the cold steel, sweat dripping from his brow and stinging his eyes. The man's uniform was immaculate no longer, two dark holes in his chest leaking smoke and blood.
And yet, the man didn't stagger, didn't flinch. He stood tall, expression untouched by pain or fear. Flames continue to envelop his head, consuming his hair and melting the skin from his face, but still, he remains standing.
"Six shots you've now wasted," the man says coolly, his voice cutting through the din of alarms like a blade. "You're running out of bullets, and my patience is thinning."
He took a step forward. Just one.
But it was enough to root Naruto to the spot. His body screams at him to move, to run, but his feet refused to obey; he couldn't abandon the console behind, her can't leave his post. The entry system still blinked on the screen, waiting for the seven-digit code. If this man wanted the information, he'd have to pry it from Naruto's lifeless body.
The thought crossed his mind, stark and clear: I'd die before I let that happen.
His eyes flicked to the gun in his hand. It was shaking now, but still pointed forward. The scientists had given them these weapons for a reason. Was it just for defense, or was there another purpose? He could almost hear their voices, warning him in clipped, clinical tones. He could feel the weight of their expectations. Could he do it? Could he pull the trigger—not on the enemy, but on himself?
As if reading his thoughts, the amber-eyed man tilts his head and chuckles. "Hmph! The man you think you are had the same thoughts once. Many years ago." His voice was calm, almost conversational, though his face was a grotesque mask of fire and charred bone. "He didn't make it out of here, either."
"It might be hard to believe," the man continued, taking another slow step forward, "but I am trying to help you. There's a growing cancer inside the State, one we thought had been excised long ago. Yet, this individual still lives. Lies. Manipulates. Or do you think he really had nothing to do with the attack on Konoha?"
The silo's alarms scream louder as if in protest, their piercing wail burrowing into his skull, while his stomach is churning with a searing heat. It radiates outward from his center, like something inside him was tearing its way out. His muscles twitch uncontrollably, his visions blur; then the voices come, Whispering, faint but insistent, echoes from a forgotten past.
...Glaube him nicht...
...не доверяй ему...
...私を見つけてください...
...I can help you...
The numbers "0413479" chantover and over again, flashing across his vision while the console's screen blinks; its entry system demands an input. Seven blank spaces make up the last line of code needed to open the system's generators, tap back into whatever of the mainframe is left, and comb through the directory; he had to be sure what he saw the other night was true. If he was seeing things, or if Mizuki had given him a faulty shinigami map.
Seven numbers for the passcode...
Seven markers...
Team 7 - his friends!
He had to make it out of there - he needed to get back. The thought of them gives him strength, pulling his psyche inwards to himself as he manages to ground reality to him once more. He can feels the burning heat against his face, his lab coat singing as the stranger comes closer; all that looks down at him now is the face of a macabre hellion, singed free of flesh and sine to reveal nothing but a skeletal smile. The man tells him to go deeper, push further, enter the code so that they may say the truth.
"Together."
But the whispers grow louder, the memory of Sakura and Sasuke and Comrade-Sensei Kakashi push the fear - and these wanton memories of another life - down his throat. He swallows them whole, so that his mind is clear as he again goes back to what he's fighting for, what the Bridge Builder expects of him, and what needs to be done. Slowly, steady, Naruto raises the gun, barrel shaking as he presses it against his temple. The cold steel bit into his skin, grounding him for a moment as images hit like a lightning strike.
Flashes of moments past, present, and what will be flow out before him like gushing river. Naruto sees a red-haired woman on a steel table, her face obscured by shadows. A gaping door before her pulses with light and swirling energy. A man with eyes as blue as the sky smiles down at him, telling him everything is going to be okay. He will come tomorrow to get her, and they were going to make it.
"Tomorrow...together..." A woman's voice whispers back. Hopeful, dreamily; waiting on the promise of finally being happy. Finally being away from politics and all the paranoia it brings. Finally, she will be free. "Tomorrow, we'll be together...Promise me."
A red string leads on, and Naruto follows...
Past a mountain surrounded by an army, past hot, sweating jungles and a bustling city where a monster waits. Naruto sees how that monster will be defeated, and a worse one come to take its place. Further the string goes, taking Naruto to the moment where he is finally free. But it is no freedom cast in dreams and hopes - it is real. His winding journey will see him to places, meet with people his wildest fantasies could hardly conjure. But fantasies which would become all too real for he and his friends.
In that journey, Naruto sees enemies turn to allies, friends become the worst of enemies; he will feel pain the likes he could never put into words. But he will also find happiness, too. The second her lips brush against his, he'll know it. Her scent is familiar, her touch, but her face...It is a stranger who nuzzles against his own, content in his warm arms. Her strange eyes never take themselves away from him. "And they never will," she tells him. "Because I love you."
Just hearing her say those words to him aloud, finally, makes him cry.
Cry harder than he'd ever thought imaginable while he he cradles her in their last moments together. Where the light falls from her face, the color is gone, and again he finds himself alone. In a fight that which was going to take every ounce of his being to overcome and survive.
Naruto follows the red string a little more, down to where it winds itself about his finger. The same finger pressing ever so slightly against the trigger of his Luger. The flaming skeleton before him does not shout, does not say anything; he does try and stay Naruto's hand, yet he was too slow. And there was no hesitation; the string winds tight about his finger, the trigger is pulled, and Naruto's world once more goes to black in an instant.
But, of course, he doesn't say any of this to Comrade-Commissar Samui or her little black notebook.
The makeshift interrogation room in the hospital was cold, stark, and unwelcoming. It wasn't just the drab walls slung with Nosaka's smiling face, or the single dim bulb that hung from the ceiling; it was the presence of her. Beautiful, buxom, but wholly the kind of woman Naruto could never love beyond a mere stroke of the wrist.
A dead fish would have more personality than Commissar Samui.
The woman sits opposite Naruto in a plain chair, her posture impeccably straight, expression calm and unreadable as ever. A thin stack of papers rests before her, each page meticulously clipped and aligned. In her hand, ever the sleek black pen glides across her notebook with mechanical precision.
Naruto shifts uncomfortably in his seat, fingers drumming on his thighs beneath the table, a nervous tick he couldn't suppress. They weren't even trying to hide it now, he thinks to himself. Not that he had any doubts these "wellness checks" were anything but interrogations - he was surprised he hadn't been shipped off to a "morality center" for reeducation. But even if Comrade-Commissar remained silent throughout the majority of their talks, he knew Samui waited like a coiled snaked. Waiting for him to slip up, for one discrepancy in his story to exploit. Did he believe they were truly investigating the manner in how the attack was undertaken? No...
This charade was paraded in the same manner in how they were dealing with Asuma: they played on the insipid idea this was all done for the greater good, a means to justify their ends for tossing Naruto onto the spit as a scapegoat, and later served up to a media circus which ever loved crafting villains.
But deep down he knew Samui - ROOT - were after something more.
One didn't need to be Shikamaru to know this had less to do with the attack, and more about what else Naruto found in the Forest of Death. Whom was waiting for him past the underground complex, what Naruto was expected to do, and why. Bridge Builder, too, told him this all had to be done for the "greater good". Could Naruto be inclined to believe him, or was the man simply using him as a means to take advantage of a weakened enemy? Was Naruto simply being used as another piece on the board, goaded in by a carrot, while the stick loomed overhead? At least, Bridge Builder offered him a carrot; for ROOT it was all stick.
All he knew - what Naruto had seen in those flashes of vision from his dream, tracking along the red string of fate before pulling the trigger - was if he wanted to save his friends becoming weapons, the "chojin", in a war which would ultimately be the end for all, Naruto couldn't afford not to believe in Bridge Builder.
"Questionnaire is before you," Samui says, her voice low and commanding. "You know the process, Comrade Uzumaki. Answer thoroughly."
Naruto sighed, glancing down at the familiar ten-sheet form laid out on the table. Each question is typed with clinical precision, designed to extract every detail from his recollections—or his fabrications.
He picks up the pencil provided and begins to answer.
Question 1: In detail, describe the interim period from the time your clone was created till its dispelling.
Naruto went over the answer he'd given at least a dozen times before this; the story had to stay consistent. His clone wandered down to the designated spot on the map given to the students at the start of training. The ammunition crate was filled with supplies meant to assist for the exam.
Question 2: In what manner could you say this action was beneficial to The Noble One?
Beneficial. Everything had to be framed as a service to the cause. He wrote the ammunition discovery would strengthen their preparedness - shinobi were expected to improvise in a dire situations. Even when surrounded by enemies, he had thought only of advancing the mission. A poltical abswer which is what they wanted to hear. Whether they believed it or not, well, the jury, jusge, and executioner were still out on that.
Question 3: Position and coordinates of your altercation with Comrade Proctor Aburame; recount the manner in which said comrade was defeated.
This is where Naruto needed to be careful the most. Samui divulged nothing, said nothing, of the condition of Shino Aburame's remains; if they'd conducted an autopsy on his body, clearly she was advised to say nothing of it. Only this, which piqued Naruto's interest with a morbid curiosity: If there could there be room for improvement in comrade Aburame's performance, what would that be?" Commissar Samui asks coolly. "For future reference."
Future reference...?
Besides not taking a shotgun to the face, well, not much.
But Naruto kept his reactions close to his chest, his responses measured; If Samui was looking for bread crumbs, instead he'd give her slugs instead. Back in the day, Murata shotguns were a popular civilian weapon before the war. The Forest of Death was a bountiful place filled with game that attracted many poachers and hunters. Deer, sorrow, and bear abounded, but so too did tengu, red oni, and yurei. Even after the massive military buildup, a popular saying was "a Murata in the hand, was worth two dead kappa in the bush". Abandoned shotguns were rife in Aokigahara, along with their ammunition. Wasn't totally unbelievable he'd stumbled upon some forgotten cache, using them to rig a trap against the Aburame proctor.
But if it was punishment against downing ROOT agent #88912, Samui made inclinations towards it. She simply sat silently, amber eyes fixed on him as he worked. Occasionally, she jotted notes, pen making soft, deliberate clicks as she flipped pages.
Naruto tried not to let her gaze unnerve him. He focused on the paper, forcing his hand to remain steady as he wrote. When he finishes, he slides the questionnaire across the table. Samui picked it up without a word and reviews it with clinical detachment. Minutes pass. Each tick of the wall clock felt like a hammer blow to Naruto's nerves. Finally, she looks up.
"Murata shells again? Really?" Samui goes, flipping through her notes. "In your first answer, you inclined me to believe they were already in your possession when the altercation began," she said, her tone flat. "Your timeline from Question 1, however, implies a discovery. Clarify?"
"I will - you inclined wrong." Naruto's mouth moves faster than his brain; inwardly, he tells himself to shut the fuck up, and be cool. He apologizes to comrade Samui, clarifying he only meant to suggest during his reconnaissance of the bunker by the river, he says carefully. "After creating the clone. It was an unexpected discovery, but one I acted on to ensure they could be used effectively. Per my training, comrade-commissar"
Samui stares for a long moment, pen tapping against her notes. Then, with a single swift stroke, she writes something down. "Very well - Acceptable," she said, her tone betrayed nothing.
Naruto lets out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
"Comrade Uzumaki," she says, closing her notebook with a sharp snap. "The truth is a fragile thing. It breaks easily under pressure, but the pieces always tell a story. Make sure yours remains consistent. You'd stand to benefit from getting more sleep at night - I've noticed the bags under your eyes. These interviews will go easier if you're well-rested. I recommend a sleeping aid to assist in this. Here, take my slip to Comrade-Doctor Yokosuka for a prescription."
She rips out a piece of paper from her notes, and hands it to Naruto. Her stare is unnerving, probing, makes him feel - no, KNOW - this was not done out of the kindness of her concern. More so, it is another addition to his interrogation; over teh last couple of nights, Naruto had a hunch the interloper in his dreams was not merely a figment of his imagination. The man with the auburn hair and ember glowing eyes was another ROOT agent set against him.
But who?
Like Shino Aburame before him, the stranger was another monster Naruto needed to contend with. As he dug into his mind looking for answers, navigating past Naruto's broken psyche brought on by a fever which now came and went. At first, he wondered if the overuse of his shadow clone technique in Aokigahara caused an...imbalance with his brain. Tsubaki told him all his vitals were fine, that he wasn't showing any outward signs of discomfort. She ran tests, evaluated privately, but in the end found nothing. "It's all in your head," she told him.
Yeah, no shit; that was the problem.
The dreams were no longer disjointed images or fleeting sensations; they were real, vivid, and unrelenting. Showing him things he couldn't explain, things he didn't want to see. Ever since he'd pushed his limits with the shadow clone technique, his mind felt split—like pieces were scattered across different times times, different people. And he was struggling to make sense of them all.
The Second Hokage was right about the dangers of meddling too deeply with the mind. Naruto could feel the edge of madness creeping closer with every passing day.
And Naruto feared what he - or the amber eyed man - might find if he went in any deeper.
Obviously, Naruto does not go to Comrade-Doctor Yokosuka; the man is a mindless sycophant, who'd merely kissed ass to get his PhD. Naruto would sooner have his arm chopped off, than recieve that idiot's medical opinion.
And so Naruto stumbles out of Tree Leaf hopsitsl, keenly awarenif the extra armed guards, the extra checkpoints as he walked tueough the wards. He rubs the back of his neck as if it might somehow ease the ache in his head. The fluorescent lights lining the hall hum faintly, casting a sterile glow over the cracked and chipped walls. His boots scuff against the polished tile, shoulders heavy and head filled with too many questions, and belly with too little food.
Good thing he had a hot date with Sakura-chan later to put his mind at ease. She'd asked him earlier before he went to see Samui. He was happy for that, as he was meaning to talk with her, too.
Bad thing, though, Sasuke happened to tag along, too.
So much for a one-on-one, Naruto pouted; thoigh, it wpuodnt change anything of how he was going to approach it today.
The market square was busy but subdued, the chill of December biting through the air. Stalls were set up as usual, their owners calling out half-heartedly to passersby. The vibrant warmth of community that once defined Konoha felt muted, replaced by the rigid presence of the Sendai guards. Their dark brown uniforms and stern faces loomed everywhere, replacing the khaki green vests of Kokoha's jonin and chunin.
Naruto wanders here with Sakura and Sasuke after Tesm 7 paid a visit to the hospital. Kakashi was still comatose, and the sight of their sensei lying motionless twisted something deep in Naruto's chest. He hated seeing him like this, hated feeling so powerless to do anything. Sasuke seemed to regain a but of his former aura, and Sakura—though visibly exhausted—maintained her usual determination. She had been working tirelessly with the other nurses, helping treat the wounded from the Inogawa Foundry the night before.
Naruto tried not to let his guilt show; he didn't want any to get hurt on his account, who didnt have it coming. But with that being said, he'd seen the ROOT encampment by the Library. The way they were indoctrinating his other classmates and the younger genin. And as he watched the young genin dart around, delivering reports to Sendai guards, he sees how purposeful were their movements, their expressions determined. They were just kids, too young to bear this kind of burden. But to them, this gave their lives meaning—a distraction from the hunger and cold that plagued so many families now. Naruto felt a mix of pity and irritation as he looked away, unwilling to dwell on it.
"They need this," Sakura says, breaking the silence. Her tone was firm, her voice carrying the authority of junior commissar Haruno rather than the Sakura-chan Naruto knew. "It gives them something to focus on. Something to keep them from being afraid."
Sasuke nods in agreement, though he looked annoyed. "Doesn't make them any less irritating when they start lecturing me about Sanzo Nosaka's precepts." He scowls, recalling an earlier encounter with a trio of overeager genin had reprimanded him. One sharp glare sent them scattering in terror once they realized who he was.
"Heh, we must've been just as annoying when we were their age." Naruto laughs.
"You're still equally annoying," Sasuke retorts, his tone flat but biting.
Naruto flips him off. "Piss all the way off with that stupid beanie and your ridiculous dress!"
"It's a head wrap, idiot, and a poncho," Sasuke shot back, rolling his eyes.
"It's a stupid shoulder dress, and you look like an idiot in it!" Naruto countered.
"Your face is stupid."
"I'm going to take those dumb wraps and shove'em down your throat. How's that for stupid?!"
"I'd like to see you try, dobe," Sasuke challenged, his voice rising.
Naruto balled his fists, brain thing hard to come up with a quick comeback, yet he stumbles. "I'd love to see you ...try and stop me...Idiot."
"What happened, your brain stop working all of a sudden?"
"Your brain is gonna stop working. After I hit it. Really hard. With my fist!"
"That's enough!" Sakura's voice rang out like a thunderclap, silencing them both. In one swift motion, she delivers a punch square to Naruto's jaw, sending him sprawling across the cobblestoned square.
Naruto groans, rubbing at the rising welt on his face; most people around were familair with these antics and didn't bat an eye. The Sendai guards, however, cast wary glances in their direction. The genin patrolling wirh them, though, quickly steer clear. It was an unspoken rule that when junior commissar Haruno got angry, it was best to stay out of her way. Better Naruto than them, everyone thought.
A few familair faces move to help Naruto up - some more familiar than others, and he makes his way back over towards his friends. Sakura pokes him hard in his chest; she had no intention of playing babysitter today. When she asked Sasuke and Naruto if they'd like to have a nice, QUIET, lunch together, she meant it. "I've been running around crazy at the hospital for days, and Teubaki was finally nice enough to cover my shift for an extended break. BOTH of you aren't going to ruin this for me. Ugh! Noble One's beard, can't we go anywhere and just be normal?"
"Hn, normal? What's that?" Sasuke says, throwing back his poncho.
None of the food here, Naruto adds as they make their way to one of the open air grills. "Heads up for the noodles - no telling where they're getting their meat."
The grill at the corner of the square wasn't particularly special, but on a crisp afternoon, it felt like a warm haven for Team 7. A metal brazier sat at the center of their table, sizzling away with strips of tofu, vegetables, and the occasional morsel of State-issued meat substitute. Steam rose in wisps, carrying the scent of charred food and soy sauce into the air, mingling with the distant chatter of villagers and the rhythmic thud of boots from the Sendai patrols.
Naruto leaned back in his stool, balancing precariously on the rear legs of his chair. "Man, been forever since we've had lunch together like this. Just us, no missions. Feels kinda…nice, doesn't it?"
Sakura, seated between him and Sasuke, poked at the grill with her chopsticks, carefully turning over a piece of tofu. "It is. Makes me think of when we were kids. Remember when Comrade-Sensei Kakashi used to take us out for meals after missions?"
Sasuke gave a soft scoff, arms crossed as he leaned into the backrest of his chair. "Didn't happen as often as you'd think."
Naruto tilted his head. "What're you talking about? We went on tons of missions together back then. Right, Sakura-chan?"
Sakura frowned thoughtfully. "I don't know, Naruto. I think you're misremembering. We didn't go on that many missions. I mean, we had a few big ones, sure, but we were pretty much rookies most of the time."
Naruto's eyebrows shot up. "You're kidding me! What about that mission to Sapporo? We had to guard the Presidium while it was in session! That was huge!" He jabbed a finger in the air, warming up now. "And then there was the time we went with Daimyo Kaneko to Crescent Island for his vacation. And don't forget when we went to Busan with Kakashi-sensei, chasing down that German spy!"
Sakura raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I remember Busan. You let that spy escape because you were too busy saving frogs."
Naruto took offense to that comment; comically puffing out his chest, and donning a goofy grin. "I was dispensing aid to comrades in need, freeing them from the clutches of a greedy capitalist monopoly that exploited their pain and suffering!" His tone was overly righteous, and it was obvious he'd rehearsed the line.
"People eat frog legs every day. It's called cuisine." Sasuke snorts.
"Not when they're butchering them - Alive! - in the middle of the street for everyone to see!" Naruto goes, jabbing his chopsticks into the air. " 'What we do for the least of our society, will manifest itself in the hour of great change.' Treatises of the Modern Man; Nosaka Sanzo: Chapter 4, page 86."
Sakura looked over at Naruto, eyebrow quirked up, somewhat impressed - so he did pay attention from time to time. "Interesting," she goes. Remarks how if that were the case, Naruto stood a chance to actually become e a downright optimal citizen of the State. One day, that is; he just had to keep his mind focused, and his nose clean. Literally and figuratively; there was sauce all over his face.
"That agent Twilight still got away, though." Sasuke remarks with all the finesse of a wet blanket. "All because you were too worried about a pile of frogs."
"Meh, what did that guy have on him anyway; a couple of pictures of some lard-ass general cheating on his wife? If that's what the imperialists think is gonna shame these guys into doing what they want, they should take a look at our Presidium - half those ministers got two, three side-pieces? Sapporo is practically a bordello. And that ain't even the worst of it." Naruto retorts casually, but obviously low enough for no one but his friends to hear; lest a roving pack of presumptuous genin overhears.
"Naruto..." Sasuke says knowingly with a side-glance. "Careful."
"What? It's true."
Next to him, Sakura bites her tongue; Naruto sees this, and tries to play it off. He's not one for dirty laundry - he practically doesn't his own, so why should he care what anyone else doesn't put through their wash. The only thing is, though, feels more and more a "hero" nowadays is only as good as their PR team. Coyly, he nudges Sakura in her side: gambling debts, drinking problems, a penchant for feet; how many times has she come to them about the weirdest stuff on file for these people. "Sure even that ROOT guy you've been tailing is into some weird stuff, too. He looks it."
Sakura is put on guard by that, shooting Naruto with a sharp look; how does he know she's been with a ROOT commissar. She doesn't go into more detail, and Sasuke beside her is quiet, too. Both seem apprehensive as Naruto shrugs, tells her he's been at Tree Leaf enough for his daily chats with Comrade-Commissar Samui. He's passed Sakura-chan by trailing behind the uniformed guy with the pale gray hair and..."Purple eyes? Weird."
"I..." Sakura stumbles for a second - but just a second; she's smart enough to regain her composure, telling Naruto it was her duty as a junior commissar. "Tree Leaf has little enough staff to attach a liaison for ROOT security. All I'm doing is acting like a glorified tour guide. It's nothing special."
"Down into the blood bank?"
"Are you following me now or something?" Sakura puts up her defenses.
Naruto knows he's trying his luck; press too much, and he'll tip his friends off he was fishing for information. Too little, and the conversation could easily veer into whatever other tangent. "I'm not following you, I was looking for you. After I checked on Matsuri and Mikoshi, I went to see if you had time or something for break. Just so happened one day, I see him. And you. And armed guards. All go into the freezer, and that's it.
Sakura keeps her eyes on the grill, carefully flipping a piece of tofu. Her voice was calm but clipped. "Comrade Terasoma a highly accomplished member of ROOT, but also a very talented hematologist. Sakura responds clinically, rigidly. "Daimyo Kaneko is still in critical condition, but its not only his physical injuries which are concerning. He's got leukemia, Naruto. Comrade-Commissar Terasoma is the doctor who's been treating him for years. Does that satisfy you?"
Naruto's eyes flicker with amsusement. Ah, "Terasoma". Good, he's got a name; Naruto'd be sure to ask Mizuki if there was anything to know about this guy.
Flipping around a chopstick, Naruto picks at his teeth. Telling Sakura there was nothing to it, he merely had an observation. No need to get all up in arms, simply because it was him who was asking. She looks at him, though, like she would love to level another punch at his face. He'd gotten sixth sense for such moments over the years - and her eyes were smoldering to lash out. Good, Naruto thought. Angrier she gets, the more she likes to talk. And Sasuke, too...
Naruto's eyes peered over at his friend, hunched up now like a cat balling up in the corner. He seemed tense, edgy, his claws figuratively poking out as a warning for Naruto to quit while he was ahead. Tough break, though; Naruto barely listened enough to Comrade-Sensei Kakashi, and he certainly never took Sasuke's "threats" as anything more than challenges.
Sakura's hand pauses briefly over the grill before resuming its motion. Her expression remains composed, though a faint edge crept into her tone. "ROOT is protecting the village. They have a duty, just like we do. There's nothing more to it than that. The Library contains sensitive information - it's natural they'd want to secure it, too."
"That what your ROOT officer tells you?" Naruto quips, his tone light but laced with something sharper.
Sakura's gaze snaps up, her brown eyes narrowing. "It's what I'm telling you because it's the truth."
"Truth? Okay." Naruto grins slyly and leaned forward, resting his chin on one hand. " 'First engender trust in The People; truth then can follow whichever way the wind blows.' "
The audible snap of Sakura's chopsticks breaking cut through the conversation like a whip. Her knuckles were white as she holds the splintered wood in her hands. "Don't quote the Treatises at me," she hissed, her voice low.
Naruto raised his tea cup to his lips, hiding his smirk. "Noble One's words, not mine."
Sakura's chair scrapes loudly against the cobblestones as she straightens in her seat, her composure visibly fraying. "If there's anyone who should actually learn the Noble One's words, it's you!" she snaps, voice rising. "You're too self-absorbed to see the reasoning behind Comrade-Sempei Nosaka's writings. 'One for the many, many for all.' That's what it means to serve!"
Serve?
Naruto looks away.
Service to the Village Hidden in the Leaves was an obscure shell of what Naruto once believed. At first, it was a playground where all the possibilities he envisioned could be achieved. Yes, he was an outsider - he was reminded him of that constantly. But, orhers told him otherwise. That even if he was a "gaijin", he was cut of the same sweaty, bloody cloth as all the rest. Naruto was a part of Konoha's history now. Comrade-Sensei Kakashi, Iruka, and Asuma made it clear there was no other place Naruto was meant to be.
But home, became obscured; lies, politics, and shadow games changed it all. Sifting through the nasty whatever was in his bowl, by the Novle One...Naruto wished so hard he could tell his friends what was really going on. It was eating him up inside - literally and figuratively... But he knew shouldn't.
They didn't deserve to be burdened by him.
Not this time. Over the years, they've already done so much to save his ass. Now, he intended to do them a solid in return. In the Akatsuki tunnels, Mizuki said Naruto was selfish. But in Naruto's eyes, selfishness would be asking Sasuke and Sakura to go along with where he was headed. They would try to stop him, give him a lecture or two, but in the end he knew they'd follow. It was who they were for each other, and Naruto was afraid one day they would bend so far for him that they'd break.
And Naruto didn't know if he was good enough to put those pieces back together just yet.
"Why didn't you pick up your prescription today?" Sakura suddenly asks.
Naruto froze mid-bite, blinking. "Huh?"
Sakura tells him there was a prescription order for sleeping medication Naruto never picked up. Diazepam. Comrade-Doctor Yokosuka wrote up his slip earlier this morning - Naruto probably was intended to grab it after his meeting with Commissar Samui. Figures, Naruto thinks; the drugs were already on standby waiting for him. But it did turn the tables on him, having now to contend with Sakura giving him the third degree.
Why would he need them? Was he having insomnia, when did this start happening? After the Forest of Death? How many hours of sleep was he getting since?
Sasuke, sitting on the other side of Sakura, wasn't buying it. His dark eyes narrow as he studies Naruto's face. "Doing what?" he asked, the question sharp and pointed. "What were you up to last night?"
Naruto hesitates. Only for a moment, but it was enough. Sakura's brow furrows, her concern deepening, and Sasuke leaned back in his seat, arms crossed.
"In my dorm. Doing whatever I can to try and fall asleep...Why, where were you?" Naruto says mischievously; the shinigami map revealed the whereabouts of his comrades in arms last night. Not literally that they were "in-arms" - if Naruto were a pettier man, and if the blushes on Sasuke's and Sakura's faces were anything to go by, he might've been beholden to such thinking. But, no. These two, as much as he loved them - and equally much as he loathed admitting Sakura "may" kinda like Sasuke just a teeny bit more - both were, for lack of a better term, "lame ducks". Sasuke wouldn't know what do with a girl soon as he liked one - let alone Sakura. And Sakura - beautiful, pretty, and perfect Sakura - didn't feel... right with him.
Course, this was Naruto's highly biased opinion, BUT...Naruto was good at reading people. And what he saw when it came to Sakura was she never felt quite like herself when with him.
Almost as if the real her was subsumed by the idea of "Uchiha Sasuke".
Muted.
Faded, a little bit.
Much like Sasuke's voice as he questions Naruto further. About the Inogawa Foundry. There was an incident last night, apparently. "You hear about that, Naruto?" Sasuke asks, to which Naruto nods.
Of course, he did. Who wouldn't. It was on the lips of every citizen come dawn, and when it got a little later in the day, more surprising to find there was such an increased ROOT presence around Konoha Library unbeknownst to everyone in the Village. Asuma made no mention of it, nor did the new acting Director Chikuma make any such announcement. "Crazy," Naruto goes, poking at his food with his chopsticks. "You'd think with all the other soft spots about the village, they wouldn't hold themselves up watching over a few dusty books no one reads. Plus, hear about the kitchen they had in there? All the food?"
Neither Sakura nor Sasuke responds.
Lunch continues without further incident - thank goodness; but the angst still lingers. When the meal ends, each say their respective goodbyes. The deliveries of which came out as awkwardly as some of the mixers the Academy put on when they were all about fifteen. Naruto got his first kiss at one of them. It happened after a terrible prank gone wrong that involved a monkey, super glue, and a rickety ladder. Sasuke did not appreciate the kiss, nor did Sakura. She never forgave Naruto for stealing a first kiss which should've been hers, and stormed off simmerinf much as she did now.
And Sasuke...
All he told Naruto was this: "Stick with saving the frogs, Naruto. And keep your nose out of trouble."
Naruto huffs loudly before throwing up a middle finger as his friend walks away. Sasuke yells back he can see what Naruto's doing, which prompts another bird to be thrown up for good measure. But soon when Naruto is alone, seeing the distance between his freinds grow more and more, he's both saddened and relieved. This divide between them could be good; if he failed doing what the Bridge Builder wanted, if Naruto was caught, space could keep his friends safe from the fallout.
As the reality if his directive rears its head with the folded up little note Naruto rifles in his pocket for.
Naruto tipped Tsubaki off earlier he and Sakura were heading to have lunch in the square today around her break. When Sasuke showed up, it threw a small wrench in their plans; if anyone would notice a drop in a crowd, it'd be him. So, Naruto improvised; he made sure to piss Sakura off so much she was bound to deck him with a punch.
Easy enough.
Disguised as one of Konoha's bedraggled citizens, while Naruto was being helped up, a stooped over figure with a hunchback and corn cob pipe slipped away before Sasuke or the Sendai infantry with their primed AKN's noticed. Naruto, did, from out the corner of his eye. And the entire time as he was grilling and getting grilled during lunch, he felt Mizuki's note burn a hole in his jean pocket.
He hastily trudges back to the dormitory, the old Sengoku compound converted now into a makeshift guard house. Most of the soldiers who'd been stationed to keep watch, Naruto had mapped their patrol routes. South by southwest, heading along a few meters, then turning round till they hit the northern entrance facing Konoha proper. Being a ninja village which had been steeped in secrecy, most of the grunts had no idea which way to march or look beyond the pamphlets or what their officers told them.
As Naruto reaches his dorm room and shut the door behind him, he let out a sigh of relief. He slides his hand into his pocket, and pulls out the folded piece of yellow paper. Unfolding it, he can bately make out the hastily scribbled chicken scratch.
"Team meeting. Tonight."
Funny, Naruto didn't think they were chummy enough to be called a team now. He crumples up the note, tosses it into his mouth, gives it a few chews before swallowing. Tasted better than the bbq he'd had earlier, but beggars can't be choosers.
He waits for the lights out hour, until he makes his move. Naruto moves quick to don his black jacket, billowing hakama pants, and leather gloves. His light sandals whisper against the creaking floorboards of the castle, as he slips on his beanie and pulls the cowl over his blonde hair.
Sneaking out was easy. Most genin were either passed out from exhaustion or were being herded by ROOT's ever-present morale officers. Left most the guards on-call a skeleton crew counting down the monutes till their shifts were to change. Naruto keeps to the shadows, minding his shadow as he stays clear of the flickering torchlight against rice-paper walls.
Naruto quickly slips through the eastern wall—a section less guarded than the others, where the chill of the night greets him. Manicured trees lining the edge of the compound give ample cover there, which is where Mizuki waits. He sits, crouched high on a branch, looking like the ugliest, most sad-looking bird Naruto ever saw. The customary Konoha flak vest and uniform seemingly float around his person; if there was anybody who looked to need help sleeping, it was Mizuki. The man's expression is sunken in and hidden in shadow.
Save for only the sharp glint to his eyes - those remained piercing like tiny silver daggers in the dark.
Naruto looks up and gives him a slight nod. "Took your sweet time—I'm freezing my balls off," Mizuki mutters, rising to his feet on the branch with a slow stretch. "You're late."
Naruto was about to retort, until something shifts in the shadows behind. Suddenly, the air catches in his throat, the fine hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, and a cold burn spreads from his stomach through his chest. Goddammit, Mizuki. Naruto curses as his hand flies to his belt, gripping the kunai tight with anticipation.
If the man looked as bad as he felt, Mizuki should've thought twice about meeting tonight. Because he was obviously sloppy, because he was a fucking liability; how many times had he told Naruto as such when he'd make his runs across The Wall. Keep your eyes open, be aware. Don't get followed!
Figures move in the dark, but Mizuki does nothing. Instead, his drawn out face breaks into a mischievous smirk that makes Naruto's blood boil. "Ease up, you idiot. It's all right." Mizuki says, gesturing for the shadows to step closer. "When I said 'team meeting,' I meant it."
"You've got to be kidding me..."
Naruto stands confused; his grip on the kunai tightens when the faces emerge from cover. One he recognizes instantly—Tsubaki. Clad in her kunoichi gear, expression calm but determined. She gives Naruto a curt nod - she looks upset, unsettled, and nervous. The other three are a mixed bag: one he knew, the other a surprise, and one who is a complete mystery. Familiarity and hesitation mix together to form this uneasy alliance. Tension in the air evident as they all assess Naruto, and he back.
Till, Mizuki's voice cuts through them all.
"I have to admit, I consider myself a bit of a loner-" the jonin chuckles, hopping down from his branch to address the group. "But being a part of moments like this, bringing people like us together, just feels...fun. Right? Am I right? But never mind that: we got a Village to steal, and a Scroll to save. ...Or, maybe it's the other way around - I don't know, it's why I called the meeting. C'mon, guys, help me out here."
Naruto's eyes narrow at the man, distrust plain as day. But he knew better to argue—not here, not now. So he bites his tongue. The questions he has, and the answers Mizuki possessed will come in time. He knew they would, for Naruto's dream told him thus.
For they were all being lead now by the red string of fate's will.
All towards the Konoha Library.
Where the information to save the world awaits, and more unsettlingly for Naruto, knowledge of a past more intimately tied to him than he'd like to believe.