He woke with a gasp that he immediately stifled, unwilling to draw the attention caused from making too much noise. His right hand slid beneath the torn rag that had once been a shirt, the gesture completely automatic.

Ba-dump, ba-dump—

A far-off explosion briefly interrupted the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, but the sound wasn't anything too unusual in the bowels of the prison, and he released a quiet sigh as his internal cadence resumed, relief flooding his body. Still alive… One could never be too sure after visiting…whoever it was.

He didn't know the man's name, not that knowing would help him.

His nose twitched, something in the stale air causing him to sneeze. In the dim light filtering in from the lamplit hallway, he could see particles of dust raining from the ceiling. He stared upwards mutely, a hand to his brow to protect his eyes from the particulates.

Then the world exploded, earthen debris collapsing around him and forcing him to scramble for safety in a corner of his cell. The yells and screams of his fellow prisoners echoed around him as everything they knew fell to pieces amidst the rumbling of their cages.

Seconds, minutes, hours later – he didn't know, time didn't seem to pass in a determinable fashion in captivity – everything stopped, and he opened light brown eyes to find harsh sunlight beaming upon him, bathing him in a golden aura. A hole had opened in the back wall of his cell, above his head and out of reach, but a mound of broken rubble and hard earth led up to it, practically inviting him to escape.

To freedom.

He clambered over the debris and emerged in a barren wasteland, nothing but rock, dirt, and sun as far as the eye could see.

Compared to a veritable eternity in captivity, it was paradise. He took one step forward, then another, and began the long trek to an unknown location.

Anywhere was better than where he'd come from.

-l-l-l-

He didn't know the time, but he could tell it was earlier than he was used to. Han stared at the ceiling from the too small futon in his chosen room, trying to combat the irritation that seemed a permanent fixture of his thoughts by focusing on the improved circumstances of his situation.

It was better in Konoha, but that was like saying being adopted by the Tsuchikage had been an improvement over his previous life; it was technically true, but not a great metric of how good his life was. Just because he wasn't being watched by Ōnoki's henchmen didn't mean he didn't feel the eyes of the Leaf on him whenever he left his room. Tsunade, Jiraiya, the cat-masked ANBU…even Rōshi's dark stare and gruff voice felt like scrutiny, despite knowing the redhead was no ally of Konoha's.

He'd learned in the Academy that evolution was a slow process, and while advancing from where he'd started to where he was now had gone faster, it still felt like he wasn't moving forward nearly as fast as he wanted. Every new stage of life just seemed like a slightly larger prison, and he was tired of being a captive.

Scowl hidden by his armor, Han leveraged himself into a standing position and stalked to the door, wrenching it open and finding an empty hallway before him. The chinking of his armor as he walked disturbed the silence of the surrounding darkness. He moved towards the atrium, where the pre-dawn light served as a guide to freedom.

"Ah…Han, right?"

He turned at the voice, finding Tsunade stepping out from the area where the kitchen and dining room were located. She carried a saucer and teacup with one hand, bringing the cup to her mouth with the other and taking a long, slow sip. Han glowered, though she appeared unfazed by his sour expression, continuing to drink leisurely from her cup; it was impossible to tell if the blonde's lack of reaction was because his face was mostly concealed or if she was just that composed. "Hmph."

"I'll take that as a yes," Tsunade said. "You're up early."

He didn't want to reply, but the retort slipped past his lips before he could stop himself: "The same could be said of you."

"The duties of the Hokage, unfortunately. And Shizune wants me to drink less sake," she muttered petulantly, raising the saucer and cup in a gesture of acknowledgement, "so here I am. And you?"

This time he managed to hold his tongue. Despite her pleasant façade, he reminded himself that Tsunade wasn't any different than Ōnoki, a village leader leveraging everything to benefit her people.

And herself.

The Hokage nodded, and the Iwa-nin felt that there was understanding in the gesture despite having no idea where that understanding came from. "That's fine. Given Iwa and Konoha's history, an open dialogue takes time. Being on speaking terms with Rōshi isn't something I can say I ever would have expected."

"You say that like that's a good thing."

Tsunade smirked, then hid the gesture with another sip of tea. Han scowled again, feeling like he'd fallen into a trap. "Diplomacy is an important hallmark of a good leader. My grandfather, the Shodai, was renowned for being open to unusual alliances, and my sensei, the Sandaime, was much the same. I would be a poor Hokage to not follow the examples they've set."

The annoyance in his scowl switched from himself to the Sannin. It wasn't her fault that Ōnoki was a shitty leader who only cared about the strength of his village rather than creating allies, even when those allies were other Rock shinobi, but it left a sour taste in his mouth regardless.

Tsunade gestured with her head towards one of the doors on the opposite side of the atrium. "Why don't we continue this elsewhere?"

"I'm not going to strike a deal with you just because we're sharing a hallway," Han growled.

"I'd be shocked if you did," the blonde admitted calmly, sipping again from her teacup. "I'm not inviting you in to interrogate you. You don't have to talk at all if you don't want to. But my conditions to stay here included a full physical exam—"

"And if I refuse?"

Tsunade's honey eyes closed with her smile, and though the expression appeared pleasant, her body emanated no warmth. "I'll throw you out myself."

"I'd like to see you try."

"I assure you you wouldn't."

Han let out a snort of genuine amusement, tickled by the idea of a woman two heads shorter and two decades older trying to bodily remove him from the premises. Tsunade remained unaffected by his reaction, and the Iwa-nin got the distinct impression that she wasn't intimidated. Then again, he supposed, Ōnoki was only a fraction of his height, and the Tsuchikage carried great power in his diminutive stature. After several seconds of silence, he grunted. "Fine."

"An excellent decision." She gestured to the door. "After you."

The steam-user stalked through the entryway the Sannin had indicated and was greeted by rows of bookshelves. They surrounded a wooden table set in the center of the room, and two chairs facing each other were placed off to the side. "You can sit on the table," Tsunade directed, the sound of the door closing behind her echoing around them. "Sorry for the poor accommodations, we're not used to people of your size. You're going to have to remove your armor."

"No."

"I wasn't asking."

"It stays on," Han rebutted, and his deep voice held a hint of a threat.

"You'll either take it off willingly, or I'll peel it off you piece by piece," Tsunade said, tone unyielding, his own threat reverberating in her timbre back at him.

"Damn woman," Han growled, frustration in every word, "you're as stubborn as the Tsuchikage."

Tsunade barked a laugh. "Comes with the job. I think I'll take that as a compliment."

The Iwa-nin stood up, reaching up and doffing the red kasa covering his head to reveal four stubby protrusions angling backwards out of his skull. He avoided eye contact with the blonde, shoving down the decades-old embarrassment that reared its head, and set the hat gingerly on the table before taking off his black gloves. "I wouldn't." The dark obi that held his gray gi closed was untied, it and the cloth itself joining the growing pile of accessories. There was a moment of hesitation before he unclasped the bronze ring circling his neck, and with a couple of extra movements, the armor encasing his upper body came loose and fell off.

Tsunade pursed her lips together until they barely appeared to be two separate features. "I see."

Old scars were spread liberally over the Iwa-nin's muscled body, off-white blemishes against pale skin. More noticeable were the stark white bands of skin around the giant's wrists. Tsunade had seen similar marks during the wars, and was confident that, if the armor covering Han's legs were off, there would be a matching pair in the vicinity of the Jinchūriki's ankles.

The methodology for keeping prisoners was a fairly universal constant across the Elemental Nations.

She cleared her throat; the scars didn't bother her as much as the implications of what he'd been through. "That's sufficient. If you wouldn't mind taking a seat…"

Han heeded the request silently, and Tsunade moved close enough so she could run hands shrouded in green chakra over his form. He watched her work with hard, pupil-less brown eyes, as naked as he'd ever been in front of someone, and yet, aside from the initial reaction, Tsunade made the experience seem…normal. For once, he felt…appreciative…of the professionalism displayed by a figure of authority. She remained unperturbed as the scan progressed, hands moving from chest to right shoulder—

Honey eyes narrowed, and she stepped around the table so she could see his back. "Neko!" she barked, and the cat-masked ANBU appeared at her side in an instant, head bowed and fist to the floor in a gesture of fealty. "Get Jiraiya here, now."

The operative didn't even respond, instead disappearing as quickly as he'd come. Han remained silent as she continued to stare at his back, waiting for the Leaf shinobi's eventual questions.

But none came, and she eventually moved back around to his front, holding her elbow with one hand and her chin with the other. She remained like that, contemplative, he thought, until a male voice groaned, "Hey, hime, it's a little early for this. I'm not really at my best right now."

"I don't particularly care, Jiraiya," Tsunade retorted, arms crossed over her chest. "Look at his shoulder."

Jiraiya, rubbing sleep from his eyes and grumbling incomprehensibly, walked over to the seated Jinchūriki and peered at his shoulder. He immediately jerked to attention, all traces of lackadaisy disappearing. "What the hell…?" he murmured. The Sannin continued to mutter under his breath as he scrutinized the giant's back, presumably performing his own evaluation. "It's definitely one of his," he announced at last.

"Damn it," Tsunade cursed.

"One of whose?" Han interjected. "You know what that is?"

"You don't?"

"There is no purpose in seeking information. It's a Jinchūriki's job to serve its village," Han spat. "That's what Ōnoki would say whenever I asked."

"Rōshi's never said anything?"

"Rōshi is a self-serving asshole subservient to the whims of his father to get what he wants," snarled the Iwa-nin. "But if he's to be believed, he knows nothing. Since you apparently do know something, perhaps you'd be willing to enlighten me."

The request might have sounded polite if it wasn't tinged by the steam-user's bitterness.

"The seal on your shoulder was created by our former teammate Orochimaru," Jiraiya offered, coming around to stand beside his teammate. "One of many, unfortunately. This one looks older, maybe one of his original designs. I'll give props to Iwa, though, they've got a hell of a sealing team. I can't detect any sort of active influence from the seal. There's only a couple of people in Konoha who could manage the same."

"Could be that the seal is just faulty," Tsunade suggested, "especially if you think it's one of his earlier attempts."

"Always a possibility," Jiraiya agreed.

"What do you know about Orochimaru?" Han asked.

"More than can be distilled into a five-minute conversation," the white-haired man said, adding dryly, "not that anyone should want to talk about him."

Han's fist punched the table upon which he sat. "I don't care if it takes me a lifetime, if that bastard is the reason I'm like this, I'll do whatever it takes to kill him."

The Sannin exchanged a glance. "Orochimaru deserves a lot of heat, but he's never been particularly interested in Jinchūriki," Jiraiya said cautiously. "I'm not sure I understand—"

"No one understands!" the Iwa-nin roared. "Do you think anyone can empathize with a child raised in a prison cell, who finally achieved freedom only to have it stolen by a power-hungry ruler who found it convenient to seal a demon into him?!" He took a deep breath, placing a hand over his heart as his broad chest swelled with the motion, then released it, knowing that the pair of Leaf shinobi before him were not the source of his ire; they were, apparently, his best chance of revenge. In a voice tight with controlled rage, he ground out, "Everything that's happened to me has been a result of whoever gave me that seal. If that's Orochimaru, then he's a dead man."

"Easier said than done," Jiraiya said. "If you had any idea of how long I've been tracking him—"

"I don't care," Han interrupted fiercely. "I have spent my life trying to learn about my past and how I got here, and until now I've gotten nowhere. To finally have an answer…" he breathed deep again, and the air seemed a hair more refreshing than when he'd woken up that morning, "you don't know what it feels like."

"Everyone has their own catharsis," Tsunade noted, "but Orochimaru… I have no authority over your decisions, but I would consider it a personal failure to not warn you that you've picked a difficult target. And that's putting it mildly. Although you'd be doing Konoha a great service by eliminating him, if your ego can stomach that."

Han released a dark, humorless laugh. "You think I care about Iwa's quibbles with your village?"

Both Sannin arched a single eyebrow. "Most Iwa-nin do," Tsunade replied.

"And if I was a true Iwa-nin, I might have the stubborn pride to refuse your aid out of sheer spite for our history," the giant acknowledged. "But I have waited for too long with no recompense for my service, and here you are with the answers I've sought. I have no compunctions with betraying Iwa if I can have my vengeance."

"You sure wear a funny hitae-ate for not being a true Iwa-nin," Jiraiya observed with false cheer.

Han scoffed. "What other options are available to a Jinchūriki?" He scrutinized the pair of Sannin with narrowed brown eyes, and in a deep, even voice said, "The deal Rōshi made with you…I can't say I care about his machinations, but if you're willing to share your knowledge on Orochimaru, I will provide you with whatever information you want."

"The enemy of my enemy…" Tsunade muttered, one hand cupping her chin in thought.

Jiraiya peered curiously at her. "What're you thinking, hime?"

"Orochimaru has been a problem in Konoha's side for a long time," she mused. "That he was allowed to attack Konoha and kill Sensei was a dangerous misstep on our part."

"Well, if someone hadn't poisoned me, maybe we could've finally taken care of him once and for all. If I focus my efforts on him—"

"Jiraiya, you've spent the better part of who knows how many years one step behind him every step of the way," the blonde retorted, "and what do you have to show for it? Besides, you have other priorities. Akatsuki's out there planning something, and a group of S-class nukenin is a bigger threat than the one you have a personal vendetta with." She returned her gaze to the Gobi Jinchūriki. "I accept your terms. And while this may be insensitive, I'd like to know, in as much detail as possible, what Orochimaru did to you."

"Your guess is probably better than mine, considering your knowledge of him," Han groused. "It's not like they were dictating notes to me. And Ōnoki didn't care enough to dig deeper. All that was important was to keep me loyal." He scoffed. "Look at where that got him."

"So you remember nothing."

"I assume the prison I was kept in was in the Land of Earth," he offered gruffly, "otherwise how would Iwa have found me? But no, nothing concrete. It's been over twenty years, I don't remember much from before I was turned into a Jinchūriki."

Tsunade shrugged. "Well, it was worth a shot. Jiraiya, are you done here?"

"Yeah, he checks out. He's got the same seal as Rōshi, and it's in good shape. Guess Ōnoki's big on 'if it ain't broke, don't fix it', but hey, it works in this case."

"Wait." Han's brow was furrowed, brown eyes darting speculatively between the pair of Sannin. "That's it? You don't have any other questions? No interest in Iwa's forces, or security, or…anything?"

Tsunade arched her own eyebrow in response. "Why would I? We're not at war, and I have no intention of starting one. If it's Iwa's intent to start something, then we'd have something to talk about—" she paused, as if to give the giant time to confirm whether the Hidden Rock was planning an assault; he shook his head no, "—otherwise, I have bigger priorities than learning how another village runs its shinobi. Maybe in the future we'll have something to discuss, but for now, you're free to go. Don't cause trouble. Jiraiya can tell you anything you want to know about Orochimaru. Given his obsession, I'm sure he'll be a better resource than me."

Her walk out of the room was interrupted by the Iwa-nin's call. "I realize I have no standing to ask this of you," he began, "but I'd prefer if Rōshi didn't know about…this. Any of it."

"Doctor-patient confidentiality," Tsunade replied without turning around, and then continued her exit.

"Hm." Han grabbed his armor and began to put it back on, finding a shred of comfort returning with the concealment of his scars and the Gobi's horns. "So, what can you tell me about Orochimaru?"

-l-l-l-

When Han stepped out into the courtyard, he was greeted by the crisp autumn air and early morning sunlight. He breathed deeply, feeling his chest expand with the motion, and took a moment to enjoy the Land of Fire's idyllic atmosphere. The Land of Earth was so dusty and desolate, devoid of the bright reds and auburns that decorated the nearby trees, that it felt like being given new life in a beautiful land.

Like dying and ascending to a better place.

He smirked to himself, the expression once more hidden by his armor. In a way, he could understand how Rōshi had gotten absorbed in the Hidden Leaf's agenda – or the younger Jinchūriki's, the one in blue. The Land of Fire was…softer, perhaps, than the Hidden Rock, more inviting. Iwa was all hard edges, rigorous demands and no leniency – except, apparently, when it came to Rōshi – and he'd been raised knowing that there was little purpose in defying the Tsuchikage.

But the Hokage was clearly different. Understanding in a way that the old Tsuchikage had never been and would never be, while still retaining her authority. Han couldn't say he knew much about the blonde Sannin, but she carried her power like a cloak, and didn't seem to need to resort to the same tactics Ōnoki did to wield it effectively.

He found that difference…refreshing. There was no love lost between the Villages Hidden in Leaf and Rock – he'd lost track of the number of Konoha-nin he'd killed during the Third Shinobi World War – and that she was willing to overlook their history for the greater good was simultaneously conciliatory and cutthroat.

And now, armed with the identity of the person who had set his entire life veering off whatever course it could have – should have – been on, the burden he'd been carrying for over two decades, the one that was weightier than his armor, felt just a little lighter. There was a long road ahead still – Jiraiya had cautioned as much during their discussion – but having an answer to even that most basic question after years of stonewalling and dismissals was like finding an oasis in the desert.

"Uugghh, c'mon Utakata-nii, this is so boring! Can't we do something more fun?"

Han looked over at the voice, finding the short blond child Rōshi had kicked out of the Hokage's office sitting on the ground beside the blue-clad brunet. "Sorry, Naruto, but I think this is the best way to continue your Suiton training."

He could hear the blond let out a grumble and see him fidget restlessly, trying to settle himself in a more comfortable position. "What are you doing?" he asked, his deep voice cutting through the still morning air.

Both boys turned to look at him. "Meditation," replied the blue-clad one – Utakata, he presumed.

"Why?"

"Naruto can access the abilities of the other Jinchūriki," Utakata explained. "Mine is shabondama, which works through Suiton. This is the best training method for it."

"That's the stupidest thing I've heard since Rōshi convinced me to come to this place."

Utakata frowned. "I'm sorry you feel that way, but this is how we've trained up to this point. The elements are easier to learn while in certain emotional states—"

"And you think teaching Zen is how to best learn Suiton?"

"Water is calm and tranquil—"

"If you dam it up!" Han snarled. "Keep it contained, don't disturb it!" Why was everyone's solution to a problem imprisonment? "What about tsunamis? Floods? Tides, whirlpools? Water is not just a stationary force that sits around waiting for something to occur!"

"Those are events caused by external forces!" Utakata protested. "They're not implicit to the nature of water itself!"

"And training someone to do something against their nature is idiotic! You, boy—" he pointed to the blond, whose blue eyes were flickering between the two older shinobi, "—if you really want to learn something, fight me."

"I'm sorry, what?"

The blond pumped his fist into the air and hopped to his feet. "Yeah, alright!"

"Naruto, wait—"

"Shinobi who wait don't live long," Han interjected, speeding forward and slamming a palm into the blond's sternum. The force of the blow sent Naruto soaring across the koi pond he and Utakata had been seated before; he hit the ground and tumbled for a dozen feet before finding his footing and popping upright.

Utakata had already jumped to his feet and leapt away at the first sign of movement. He let out a curse, his hands forming signs. "What is it with you Iwa-nin? Suiton—" A hand on his shoulder drew his attention away from completing his ninjutsu, his head swiveling to meet dark eyes. "Rōshi?"

"Let 'em be."

"Are you insane?"

"Yeh want Han ter git used ter this, aye? This's th' way. Trust me."

Utakata turned away from the older Iwa-nin when he heard Naruto's call. The blond was waving at him. "Don't worry, Utakata-nii, I got this!" He ran across the koi pond at Han, a straight charge, and when the giant swung at him, he slid under the attack, popping up behind the armored shinobi and throwing a punch at the man's kidney.

Han bent his knee backwards, the heel of his armored foot digging into the blond's stomach before his fist could even connect. Naruto wheezed, his lungs empty of air, and the Iwa-nin turned slowly to find the boy bent over, clutching his belly. "Is that all? I would have expected more from someone trained by Rōshi."

"I'm…not…done," Naruto gasped.

Off to the side, Han heard Rōshi let out a snort. He almost sounded…amused…if he thought the redhead capable of such feeling. "It seems you are."

"No way!" he snapped, voice stronger. His hands came together, index and middle fingers straight up, ring fingers and pinkies interlocked in the sign of the tiger. "Mizu Bunshin no Jutsu!"

Water from the koi pond rose up, amorphous, before triplicating the form of the Leaf native. Han turned again to face the three duplicates as they charged him, a smirk hidden by his armored mask. He blocked each punch and kick they threw at him, not out of fear of harm – his armor would soak any weak attacks – but on sheer principle.

The beauty of taijutsu was that any blow delivered by a master could be – should be – debilitating. Even without using his Unrivaled Strength technique, Han was an expert, and he had enough respect for the art to not dishonor it, even if that meant pretending a novice was much better than he actually was.

He ducked low, almost halving his height, and the real Naruto passed over his head in a flying kick. The blond landed and turned on his heel, charging again and aiming a knee at Han's head. A black-gloved hand caught it, large fingers wrapping around the knee. Naruto let out a cry of surprise as his midair momentum was disrupted, and Han spun in place with one leg extended, steam propelling him in a circle to sweep the feet of the water clones, turning them into puddles. At the completion of his turn, he released the blond, sending him soaring into a nearby tree.

Naruto managed to right himself in midair, sticking to the tree trunk with chakra. Han watched as the boy's blue eyes flickered over to the koi pond. "Go ahead," he offered, though his deep voice lacked any sincere geniality. "That's the intended purpose of this exercise, is it not? Your taijutsu abilities certainly won't win you this fight. Will ninjutsu make you competitive?"

"I'm just gettin' started!" the blond proclaimed, hands forming seals. "Suiton: Shigure!"

Fist-sized orbs of water rose from the pond and shot towards the armored shinobi. The Iwa-nin set himself, gloved fists punching and slicing through the incoming spheres with targeted precision. Droplets of water splashed across his armor with each broken bullet, a drizzle that seemed to clean the dust of travel from each protective red plate.

There was a flash of orange as the younger boy flung himself forward, using the Water Release: Drizzle as cover. Han snorted. How predictable. He reached out, quick as a viper, and grabbed the boy by the throat. Naruto let out a choked noise and scrabbled to force the giant to release him, fingers clawing fruitlessly against the Rock shinobi's black glove. His feet kicked out to strike the Iwa-nin, but the steam-user held him out far enough that they only hit air. Han brought his weight to bear, prepared to bury the boy in the ground.

A ball of sand entered his vision and exploded with a small burst of air. On reflex, he released the blond, his dominant hand coming up to shield his eyes from the tiny projectiles. Naruto hit the ground with a muffled 'oof' and took the opportunity to distance himself from his opponent.

Han blinked several times to assure himself that no grit had gotten into his eyes, and when his senses told him he was fine, he fixed his brown-eyed stare straight ahead. "I commend your honor for not attacking—"

"I've tol' yeh ter take advantage o' yer enemy's weakness!" Rōshi criticized.

"—but you," he continued, brown eyes flickering to settle on the redhead who had taken up station at the blond's side, "who are you to intercede in another man's fight? Where is your honor?"

"I am…earning it," the redhead replied in a measured monotone, brow furrowed, "and Naruto is…important." His voice was dry and coarse, a perfect match to the desert Han assumed he hailed from. "You do not respect that."

The armored shinobi snorted. "And you do? Respect, like honor, is earned."

"…It is…a long lesson…" the Suna-nin agreed obliquely.

"Gaara…" Naruto breathed, blue eyes wide with surprise.

"So everyone has a teacher," Han growled. "Let's see if you've actually learned anything." He settled himself into a defensive position. "Come at me, both of you."

With a gesture, a thin stream of sand shot out of the gourd on the redhead's back. Han held out a palm, scattering the silica with barely a thought, then used his other hand to block the incoming punch Naruto tried to deliver to his stomach. The individual sand streams he'd scattered angled back, wrapping around his forearm and creating a band that restrained his arm against his body.

He clenched his other fist, engulfing Naruto's hand in his own, and lifted the boy off the ground. He motioned to slam the boy into the earth – a flicker of a memory hit him, Roshi's form superimposing itself over the blond's, an ironic case of the student taking after his teacher – but Naruto wrapped his legs around the larger man's bicep and clung to his arm like a monkey.

Sand continued to wind its way around his body, slithering down his arm, across his waist, and moving to bind his legs together. Naruto took advantage of the giant's distraction, wriggling free and positioning himself so that he was sitting on the Iwa-nin's shoulders, legs clenched around his neck. Though his armor protected him, he could feel the pressure from both the boy on his back and the granules restricting his movement as they tried to force him into submission.

Unlikely. Steam built within his armor and then seeped out from between the individual plates. Strength augmented by the vapor, he flexed against his bindings.

The sand bindings burst, scattering silica in every direction. He reached back and grabbed Naruto by the scruff of his jacket, plucking the boy from his perch with no effort. The blond lashed out wildly, aiming for his opponent's head, and his foot caught the brim of Han's kasa, knocking it from his head.

Annoyed by the sudden exposure of the Gobi's mark, Han threw the struggling boy with impressive force, his only intention to get him away. Naruto's body broke through the tree it hit and kept going; Gaara's head turned to follow his companion's flight, and Han darted forward with a few thunderous steps. He stopped just shy of the boy, elbow extended in a strike to his chest.

The redhead's trajectory followed his friend's, though Gaara was low enough to the ground that he hit the broken stump of the tree that Naruto had destroyed. Sand sprayed outward at the point of impact, and Han could see the boy's teal eyes widen as the silica spread out to form a concave shell at his back. "Mother…" he whispered, awestruck. His hands twitched at his sides, and the sand undulated in response to his movements.

Han arched an eyebrow as the Suna-nin seemed to ignore him in favor of experimenting with the sand. He walked over to where his kasa had been knocked off and picked it up.

There was a 'poof' of smoke, and he was suddenly holding Naruto instead; the blond pulled back his leg and slammed his foot into the surprised giant's chin. Han staggered backwards and stumbled over an uneven piece of earth, falling onto his back. "Yeah, gotcha!"

His position reminded him of how Rōshi had beaten him back in the Valley of Fog, and another flash of irritation coursed through him. A blast of steam burst from his chestplate, blowing the boy's spiky hair backwards and temporarily blinding him. Han reached up and wrapped his hand around the blond's neck, eliciting a choked gurgle. He lifted his head to glare into wide blue eyes, noting darkly, "Your celebration is premature."

He again tried to slam the boy into the earth next to him, but sand wrapped around his forearm and stopped the motion. Brown eyes found Gaara standing where he'd fallen, both hands extended to control the silica. Han strained against the resistance, not yet tapping into his Unrivaled Strength, but the sand solidified under him, creating a plinth between his arm and the ground. "No," insisted the redhead in a firm monotone.

Han grunted. "If you insist." He pitched his arm forward instead, and Naruto again went soaring, this time towards Gaara. The sand rushed to protect the redhead but couldn't outpace the airborne blond, and the two collided in a tumble of limbs. The Iwa-nin hoisted himself to his feet, and while the two boys disentangled themselves, he leaped into the air and crashed down on them with a grunted, "Funkōtō!"

Naruto managed to roll to the side to avoid the falling giant, but the layer of sand that Gaara erected between him and Han tore like wet paper. Han saw the Suna Jinchūriki's teal eyes widen in shock as his feet impacted the boy's torso. The redhead's skin seemed to…fracture was the best word he could think of…at the impact, and to the boy's credit, he didn't scream, though the choked sound that escaped him was probably close enough.

Although, he supposed, having 250 pounds of muscle and metal drop on one's lungs tended to rob one of speech.

"Suiton: Mizurappa!"

Han withstood the Wild Water Wave without even glancing at the blond using it. Instead, he stared down at Gaara and asked with an air of arrogance, "Do you regret intervening? The difference in our strengths is too great for you to overcome with your piddling respect."

"I…will…get…stronger…" Gaara whispered, every syllable a wheezy struggle.

Before he could reply, bubbles floated into his view, right at chest height, and then he heard a snap of fingers and a shouted, "Suiton: Hōmatsu no Jutsu!"

The spheres exploded, and the blast was strong enough to force him off the Suna-nin. He glanced over to find Utakata staring at him, some sort of narrow rod held in one hand. "Don't you think you're going a little too far?" the brunet asked. His voice was hard, an insinuation that he already knew the answer and was merely trying to be diplomatic.

He snorted in response. "If you think this is too much, you're not cut out to be a Jinchūriki. We were created to give and take beatings."

"Training takes time," Utakata shot back, "and they're clearly not as experienced as you are."

"I was under the impression that Kiri didn't pamper its shinobi—"

"I'm not pampered," the brunet retorted, visibly annoyed, "I just don't see the purpose in breaking someone beyond the point they can recover!"

Han gestured outwardly with open palms, almost shrugging. "They've survived this long as Jinchūriki, I don't see how a little more will irreparably harm them. If you disagree, you're more than welcome to stop me. But you'll need more than words to do so."

Utakata's annoyed look settled on Rōshi for a moment. The redhead arched an eyebrow. "He ain't wrong."

"Iwa…" came the irked reply. He turned away from the lava-user, golden eyes flickering around to find Gaara making his way to his feet and Naruto moving back to stand beside the younger redhead. Both of them had their sights fixed on the armored shinobi, and the brunet's annoyance grew at the knowledge that the pair of Iwa-nin were right. With a terse, "Fine", he divested himself of his blue kimono and stalked towards the giant.

Han tilted his head in observation of the approaching Mist shinobi, a slow, unseen smirk spreading across his lips. "So you're more than a spectator, hm?" Utakata responded by raising his bubble blower to his lips and expelling another stream of bubbles. Han aimed a palm at the incoming spheres and expelled a burst of boiling vapor from his armor, evaporating them in an instant. "Find a new trick."

The brunet spewed forth a Wild Water Wave in return, the liquid tinged a pale green. Han held up his hand to forestall the attack as he'd done with Naruto's, but the moment it hit his glove, the acrid smell and burning hiss of dissolving leather struck him. He grunted in annoyance and began to run around the courtyard to avoid the stream of caustic fluid, brown eyes watching the other Jinchūriki.

Gaara's arms were stretched out, and a stream of sand shot through the air towards the giant, trying to catch him in a pincer movement. Han timed it until he'd nearly been caught before darting off at a right angle so that the two elements collided.

Naruto intercepted his path with a knee aimed for his chin; the Gobi Jinchūriki caught the blow easily and then lifted his other arm to block the kunai coming down on his head. Blue eyes winced as wrist met metal, and Han took the momentary pause to hold the boy's knee and deliver an uppercut to his sternum, sending him airborne and away.

The 'pop' of something at his back prompted him to turn, but he found his movement restricted. Green slime kept his limbs glued to his body like thick webbing, his feet pasted to the ground. A ball of sand about a foot in diameter shot forward and slammed into his stomach with enough force that he could feel it through his armor. Then the ball changed into a claw that wrapped around his upper body and began squeezing. The pressure wasn't immediately apparent, more like a limp handshake, but in any other scenario – against any other person – Han knew it would've been dangerous, likely deadly.

He threw his head back and laughed, a deep, echoing noise of amusement. The Iwa-nin felt an excited energy flood his veins, a shot of adrenaline born from the closest thing to happiness he'd experienced in a long time. This fight was…fun. No stakes, nothing to prove, just…entertainment. "So this is what it comes to, hm?" he announced. Steam billowed from the furnace on his back, a thick, white haze that engulfed the area in suffocating humidity. "A triple-team attack where only one of you uses taijutsu? It hardly seems fair."

"This is…Kirigakure no Jutsu?" came Utakata's confused voice. He was no longer visible within the steam, but the armored shinobi could sense his position in the vapor regardless. "But you're from Iwa!"

The green slime lost its viscosity and melted into a puddle at his feet; the sand restraining him lost its cohesion and loosened enough for him to flex and break it into clumps of soggy silica. He shot off at an angle and then pivoted to charge in Utakata's direction. The brunet turned towards him at the last second, surprise painted across his face, and the giant delivered an underhanded hammer blow to the teenager's stomach.

Utakata was lifted bodily off his feet and sent hurtling through the mist, creating a hole in his wake that quickly filled in with swirling vapor. The Kiri-nin taken care of, Han turned on his heels and ran towards where he could sense Gaara, his armored footsteps like thunder.

Naruto appeared like a bolt of lightning, steam billowing past him as he dropped from the heavens with an axe kick. Han barely managed to raise an arm perpendicularly to catch the assault, the force of the blow resonating through his armor. For a moment, their eyes met, and the Iwa-nin could see a fierce, unyielding fire in the younger male's gaze.

Hmph. He found himself amused by the boy's spirit; he'd never had such passion, just burning hatred and anger and tacit acceptance of his circumstances, and here was this nobody child, struggling against odds he couldn't possibly hope to overcome.

With an outward motion, he flung the blond away from him, and as Naruto went sailing back through the steam, he flipped through hand seals and unleashed a Great Fireball Technique at the motionless giant. Han clapped his hands together, a gust of steam emanating outwards and extinguishing the incoming flames.

Sand reached for him through the vapor, and Han jumped off the ground, steam bursting from his furnace to propel him forward. "Fungōkyaku!"

His Eruption Kick broken through the sand in his path like it wasn't there. He caught a brief flash of Gaara's wide-eyed expression before his momentum carried him into the boy, sending the redhead rocketing backwards beyond the shroud of fog.

"Hmm…" He couldn't sense Naruto's presence in the steam, which meant he was likely still airborne.

"Yōton: Yōnami!"

Han sidestepped the incoming wave of lava and launched himself into the air so that he was behind the falling blond. He wrapped one arm around the boy's upper body, pinning his arms to his sides, and brought the struggling Leaf native back to the ground. When they landed, the Iwa-nin placed his free hand on the back of the blond's head and gruffly ordered, "Yield."

He could feel the younger Jinchūriki struggling in his grasp, so he tightened his hold and applied a little more pressure to the boy's head. Naruto seemed to realize his circumstances, for he let out an annoyed groan and went slack. Han released both him and his control over the surrounding steam after several more seconds, and a moment after the blond touched the ground amidst the dissipating mists, he straightened up and flashed the Iwa-nin a wide smile. "You're pretty strong…uh…"

"Han."

"Han-san!" he finished cheerily. He hurried away as the vapors finished clearing, returning moments later with the older Jinchūriki's red kasa in his hands. Han took the proffered hat and set it on his head. It felt like a peace offering from the loser of a fight, which was counterintuitive to every battle – physical or verbal – he'd ever fought. He watched the boy hurry over to Gaara, who was steadily working his way to his feet.

"Aye, I can't fig're 'im out either."

He glanced down to find Rōshi had sidled up beside him while his attention was focused elsewhere. The redhead's gaze was fixed on the pair of younger demon containers, his arms crossed over his chest. "He's got your fingerprints all over him."

Rōshi shrugged. "I tol' yeh I've been trainin' 'im. Th' Yōton's new. Kid's impressive, that's fer sure."

"Hmph." Silence fell between the pair of Rock shinobi as Naruto seemed to talk at Gaara, their conversation too far to overhear. "He's still unpolished."

"Aye, th' follies o' youth."

The giant's brown eyes flickered to the left, where Utakata was hobbling over to them. There was a noticeable bruise forming around his stomach. "Your form is awful."

"Ah, well, my physicality is not my strength," the brunet admitted. "On the other hand, yours is…impressive. Which is probably an understatement. I didn't know anyone outside of Kiri could fight using Kirigakure no Jutsu."

"I don't know what you're talking about. The style is my own. The gift of my curse," he spat.

Utakata was quiet for a long moment. Han felt like he could hear the gears in the bubble-user's brain turning; he seemed like an introspective kind of person. "I won't pretend to know your life," the brunet said quietly, "but…I've felt cursed, too. I think that's what being a Jinchūriki is. But being here has helped relieve that burden, just a little. Maybe it'll help you, too, if you'd let it."

Han didn't respond, though he could admit to himself that the same feeling – a weight easing off his chest, even fractionally – had come over him when Orochimaru's name had fallen from Jiraiya's lips. It had felt so good, a cool breeze in the searing desert, a moment all too rare in a life engulfed by scorching anger and hate.

For the first time since he'd escaped his cell as a child, he felt just a smidgeon of freedom.

He smirked to himself, only a little sour. Damn it, Rōshi, how do you always manage to get your way?

"Your taijutsu needs work," he called out to Naruto. Both the blond and redhead turned their heads to face him, one expression curious, the other blank.

"Rōshi-oji's taught me a lot!"

"Rōshi's taijutsu sucks, too," retorted the giant. Behind him, the Yonbi Jinchūriki cleared his throat, audibly annoyed. "If you train seriously and properly, you can beat him easily. …If you're interested," he offered with casual disinterest.

He could see the blond's eyes light up. "Really? Yeah, that's awesome!"

Gaara took a step closer. His face retained its blank façade, but there was hesitation in his posture. Han had seen the same hesitation in enemies who'd watched him tear through their comrades on the battlefield. "I…would like to be trained as well," he intoned slowly, "…if you are willing."

"Of course he's willing!" Naruto proclaimed. "You'll help Gaara, too, right Han-san?"

"…Your taijutsu is nonexistent," Han told the boy, ignoring the blond's request. Gaara's shoulders seemed to slump another fraction, an imperceptible motion. "But if you're willing, then I don't see why not." The Suna-nin's head rose to meet the giant's, teal eyes wide with a surprise that was more genuine and…innocent…than any of his mid-fight shock.

"If the offer is open, I'll take you up on that as well," Utakata interjected.

"This bandwagon is getting rather full," Han groused.

"Aye, an' mine's easin' up," Rōshi said with a laugh.

"Except for the Yōton."

Rōshi sighed. "Aye, yeh got me there. So kid, when'd yeh fig're out Yōton?"

Han watched as the older Iwa-nin and Utakata moved towards where Naruto had started excitedly talking about the source of his Lava Release abilities. They seemed very…natural, he mused. It reminded him of how Kurotsuchi, Akatsuchi, and Deidara had gotten along, or how Kurotsuchi had always seemed to flourish under Rōshi's attention in the rare instances he visited Iwa proper.

Considering that he'd also been tutored by Ōnoki, he'd never understood how the younger trio had always remained so upbeat, but watching the other Jinchūriki now, he thought maybe he had an inkling.

He was interrupted from his musing by a muffled clanking as something reverberated against his armor. He reached into an inside pocket of his gi and withdrew a rounded river rock. The kanji for 'five', engraved neatly into the stone, was alight with orange-red heat, and the entire rock vibrated in his hand.

"What is it?"

"A call to action," Ōnoki replied. "I'll use it to summon you if you're needed."

Han snorted. The whole stone was barely as big as his palm; it appeared inconsequential despite the responsibility it carried. "And if I break it?"

The Tsuchikage laughed, though it was void of amusement. "The Will of Stone is not so easily destroyed. You'll find it much more difficult than you think."

Annoyingly, the old man had been correct; the stone was aggravatingly indestructible. He'd tried –mostly out of an effort to prove Ōnoki wrong – and had been disappointed each time. Though he doubted it was the Will of Stone the Tsuchikage spoke of – more likely seals placed by the same people who had been smart enough to seal a Bijū into a child – it was annoying nonetheless.

Every time the Tsuchikage had called him, he'd responded. It was the duty of a Jinchūriki – of an Iwa-nin – to do so.

Han stared at the rock for a long moment before returning it to his gi. As he'd told the Sannin, he was no true Iwa-nin. He finally had a lead on the man who'd ruined his life, and he was enjoying a second helping of long overdue freedom.

Eat dirt, old man.

-l-l-l-

Author's Note: I hate fight scenes. But given Han's stature, it made sense to me to make him a very physical being, so it had to be done. Hopefully it made sense, and the secrets of Han's past give a glimpse into all the anger we've seen so far. Let me know what you think!