Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

As a child with a growing aptitude for the shinobi arts, it became a habit for Utakata to sneak out of the compound belonging to Kirigakure's bubble-users and simply explore the outside world. Harusame didn't like him being out – a consequence of being the Jinchūriki to the Six-Tailed Slug, most likely – and it was within the nature of children to be curious about that which they were prohibited. The grey stone walls of his living quarters were as much a prison to his inquisitiveness as they were to his body.

It was an expedition to one of the Land of Water's many inland lakes that eight-year-old Utakata met the Hidden Mist's other Jinchūriki.

The other boy was shorter than him, with messy grey hair that blended into the fog prevalent throughout the Hidden Mist. Just by the boy's physique, Utakata guessed himself to be older, but there was a rigidity in his stature that was unbecoming of someone so young. "I know you're there," the boy said, startling the Six-Tails' Jinchūriki. His voice was soft but matter-of-fact, carrying only the barest inflection.

Surprised and curious – there shouldn't have been a way for this younger stranger to notice him from his hiding spot – he approached the shorter boy and sat down beside him. His too-large kimono served as a makeshift blanket for him to sprawl upon. "How'd you do that? Know I was there?" he clarified when the boy didn't respond right away.

"Isobu told me."

"Isobu?"

The boy nodded. "The Sanbi."

Utakata gaped. "You're a Jinchūriki?"

"Mm." He appeared pensive, pupil-less pink eyes finally acknowledging the brown-haired boy. A long, stitch-like scar trailed to his jawline from beneath his left eye, giving him the appearance of having undergone facial surgery that had never healed. "So are you…Rokubi  Jinchūriki."

"How'd you know that?" he asked, taken aback by the boy's strange perceptiveness. "Isobu again?"

The boy returned to staring across the lake. "Isobu and I are on good terms. He's the closest thing I have to a friend." There was a long pause in which Utakata was unable to find the words to mask his surprise, and the boy continued, "Also, you gave yourself away by admitting you know what a  Jinchūriki is. I have no peers who comprehend the concept." He directed his gaze elsewhere, as if hearing something no one else did. "I have to go."

As the grey-haired boy turned to leave, Utakata reached out a hand as if to grab him, a hundred questions fumbling for control of his mouth. The other Jinchūriki stopped, recognizing the attempt for his attention, and the older boy finally managed to ask, "What's your name?"

"Yagura," came the reply in that same soft voice, and then Utakata watched him disappear into the mist.

Utakata fled.

Unlike most renegades, who typically ran on foot, the brunet was floating in a large bubble camouflaged to blend precisely with his surroundings: the open sky. He was immensely thankful for the calm, if chilly and overcast, climate that pervaded the Land of Water; it made his escape from Kirigakure easier and gave him plenty of time to think, time which he desperately needed to organize the chaos of his mind.

Part of it was related to who he was – or more specifically, what he contained – but the other part was based on his very abrupt decision to leave the Hidden Mist. He needed to put as much distance between himself and the village as possible to get ahead of the hunter-nin who were sure to be sent after him. It was better to make their inevitable chase as difficult as possible, especially considering he already stood out far too much for his own liking.

While he knew it was smarter to abandon the cornflower blue kimono which distinguished him as one of Kiri's rare bubble-users, it and his black sweatpants were the only clothing that could withstand the Six-Tails' 'gift', the physical marker each Jinchūriki possessed in some form. The orange strips woven into the hems of the kimono's billowing sleeves and the orange sash cinched around his waist denoted him as a journeyman, one step below the red-sashed masters.

Not that he ever would have reached that stage even if he had stayed in Kiri. Despite how rare it was for a Kiri-nin to possess an affinity for bubble-line ninjutsu, Utakata's status as the Rokubi Jinchūriki precluded him from ever rising to such a prestigious position. People feared the fallout of having a second Jinchūriki in a position of authority.

Never mind that, throughout his entire life, Utakata had never harbored a grudge against his village. Fear of the Six-Tailed Slug within him, and the Three-Tailed Demon Turtle within Yagura, seemed to override rationality, deluding people into a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Saiken, as the demonic gastropod had introduced himself, had been in Kirigakure's possession for nearly half a century, and Utakata was only his second Jinchūriki. The original host – a man whose name Utakata had never known because he had died when the Bijū's resealing had taken place – had discovered a talent for the then-unknown branch of Suiton ninjutsu and had eventually taken the fighting style to its peak, even starting the special training for those with the bubble-line affinity.

Like his predecessor, Utakata excelled at the manipulation of bubbles, earning his official place among the bubble-users years ahead of the other shinobi. Unlike the ninjutsu's human originator, however, the brunet had grown up in a time when Kiri was recovering from an assault by its other captive Bijū, the Three-Tailed Demon Turtle, and there was a new stigma to hosting one of the Tailed Beasts.

That Yagura was both the Sanbi Jinchūriki and the Mizukage would probably have worked in his favor if the grey-haired boy had remained as soft-spoken and benevolent as he had in their youth.

At least now he had an explanation for why his friend had changed so drastically.

Utakata's head broke the water's surface. The cavernous hideout was supposed to be known only to the Mizukage and the Seven Shinobi Swordsmen, but Utakata knew of its existence courtesy of Saiken; the cave, ironically, had been the giant slug's home prior to his capture by a young Kirigakure decades ago.

Utakata preferred the cold dankness of his prisoner's former home to the stone pathways of the bubble-users' compound, where the chill in the air always seemed amplified by the other occupants' silent disdain. Visiting also gave him the sole semblance of a connection to his father, the former wielder of the twin thunderswords Kiba, who had perished during the Sanbi's attack when Utakata was only two years old. Sometimes the brunet liked to imagine his father grinning at the other Swordsmen, sharp teeth bared in a smirk, feet propped lazily on the circular table they conferred around.

Voices reached Utakata's ears, and he hunkered down in a nearby corner, apprehensive of being caught by whoever was in the cave. Kiri's ninja, particularly the Seven Shinobi Swordsmen, were not known for their compassion or understanding, and he preferred not having to explain himself.

When his blood finally stopped pounding in his ears, the conversation he was inadvertently eavesdropping upon became clear.

"Apparently," intoned a young yet apathetic voice all too familiar to the brunet; Yagura rarely sounded like he was interested in anything anymore, "Kumogakure possesses both the Nibi and the Hachibi." There was a muffled sound, the impact of something heavy hitting something soft. Utakata guessed someone had just hit someone else.

"How reliable is that information?" asked another person, the voice striking both a chord of familiarity and a sliver of fear within Utakata. The reputations of the Seven Shinobi Swordsmen, alive or dead, loyal or not, preceded them.

"You should know better than to doubt my methods, Kisame," replied a deep voice. The Rokubi Jinchūriki couldn't repress the shudder that ran through his body of its own accord, the malice in the man's tone seeming to reverberate and amplify in the cavern. "There are no secrets from these eyes."

"Heh, so you decided to actually show up this time, eh?" Kisame noted mockingly.

"Some things are best tended to in person."

"What's the plan, then, Mizukage-sama?" the swordsman drawled, placing sarcastic emphasis upon the title.

Utakata was surprised to hear the third man speak instead of Yagura. "Nothing for now. We're still too unprepared to deal with this new information." There was a brief pause before he continued, "In the short-term, I think that it will be best if you pretend to stage a coup against Yagura so that you can work full-time for Akatsuki."

"Keh heh heh, as you wish, Mizukage-sama. This place was gettin' kinda boring anyway. What're you plannin' to do next?"

"Yagura has proven to be a convenient puppet. I'll stay here to keep my influence over him and continue to use Kirigakure's resources for our benefit. Surviving your coup attempt will further cement our control here."

Utakata reeled at those words, his body slackening in shock. Yagura, the leader of the Hidden Mist, the only other person in the village who understood the burden of being a Jinchūriki, his friend, was being controlled by some stranger who was dangerous and most decidedly ill-intentioned. Distracted, he nearly missed the man continuing, "Besides, it'll be much easier to monitor the Sanbi and Rokubi from here, and possibly discover the locations of the remaining Jinchūriki in the meantime. I trust that you'll monitor Akatsuki's progress in my stead and report back to me. It may be awhile yet until we're ready to extract the Bijū, but I am a patient man, and I will wait however long is necessary to see our world realized."

The phrase 'extract the Bijū' echoed in the recesses of Utakata's blank mind, filling every nook and cranny. He didn't know for what purpose Kisame and his partner sought the Bijū, but extracting them would have only one result: the deaths of the two Mist Jinchūriki.

Cautiously, so that his presence would continue to go unnoticed by those who plotted his demise, he edged backwards to the water. Calling upon Saiken's chakra, he readied himself for the arduous swim ahead; the alkaline properties of the Rokubi's power coating his skin would make his transition from land to water seamless.

Gurgling resonated from deeper in the cave, and Kisame's voice mused, "Hm? Seems like Samehada senses something…"

Utakata took that as his cue, slipping into the water as fluidly as an eel and sluicing desperately through it for the surface.

With miles between himself and the Hidden Mist, his bubble floating over the ocean separating the Land of Water from the eastern shore of the Land of Fire, the Rokubi Jinchūriki could finally consider his situation with a clearer head. The talk between Kisame and the unknown man had revealed the danger of remaining within his own nation. Beyond that, if mention of the Nibi and Hachibi was any indication, Utakata could safely extrapolate that all the Jinchūriki were in trouble, not just him and Yagura.

Not that any of them were as important to him as the Mizukage, but it was interesting.

Unfortunately, despite his desire to rescue Yagura from the clutches of the unknown man, he knew he had nowhere near the strength required to do so. Kisame, apparently, was at the man's disposal, and the swordsman was one of the strongest inhabitants in the whole of the Hidden Mist. Not that he was even needed; if the unknown man was powerful enough to manipulate the Mizukage, host of a Bijū, then he was clearly more than capable of fending for himself.

Hence the golden-eyed boy's flight from Kirigakure. He had no doubt that his status as a Jinchūriki – and thus a valuable asset to the island nation, if not to the evil man – meant that he would be hunted by the oinin as soon as his absence was noticed.

So I need to avoid the oinin while training to get on Kisame's level. Then I might have a chance of freeing Yagura from…whoever's controlling him.

He hung his head, morbidly grateful that the despondence weighing him down didn't affect his Drifting Bubble Technique. Easier said than done. In spite of his young age, Utakata was a skilled Jōnin, but Kisame was in a league of his own, and training while on the run sounded complex.

Utakata sighed. I need help.

Even admitting that to an audience of himself was painful. Utakata was used to doing things on his own, to finding contentment in solitude, especially after Yagura had become Mizukage, and the idea of finding aid for this mission seemed both impossible and unnatural. Sadly, the pragmatist within knew that he would never survive the challenges ahead without assistance.

Conveniently, those who might be most receptive to aiding him would simultaneously help thwart the plans of the unknown man manipulating his friend.

The other Jinchūriki.

In theory, the remaining demon containers would have enough power to overcome whatever obstacles he would have to face on his journey to rescue Yagura. Not only that, but they needed to be warned that they were in peril from a group comprised of what he could safely assumed to be immensely powerful shinobi. What was that group's name? Uhh…Akatsuki? That sounds about right…

Regardless, in a perfect world, he could convince the other Jinchūriki to join him on his quest and they could fight the threat together, watch the others' backs, and ultimately save Yagura.

As likely as that is… Utakata knew the idea was a long-shot even as it came to mind, but his options were limited, and no other reasonable alternatives were coming to mind. They were the only individuals he thought he had a marginal chance of convincing to join his crusade; self-preservation was a strong motivation, after all.

Either way, that plan depended on actually finding the other Jinchūriki, which was no mean feat. Hidden Villages were cagey with their secrets under the best of circumstances; trying to locate their human weapons would be like looking for a needle in a haystack. Yagura's in Kiri for the foreseeable future, and the Nibi and Hachibi are in Kumo, he mused, ticking off his fingers for each accounted Biju. Unfortunately, Kumo's rather militant tendencies coupled with alliances made during the Shinobi World Wars – Kiri with Konoha, and thus against Kumo – meant that Utakata would not be warmly welcomed in the Village Hidden in Clouds, or even in the Land of Lightning as a whole, fugitive or not.

Another sigh. So that leaves…what exactly? Momentarily stumped by his lack of knowledge, he wracked his brain for some clue he'd overlooked until the story of the Kyūbi no Yōko came to mind. Harusame's world history lessons had never seemed more relevant than in that moment, and he tried to recall every detail he'd been taught.

The Nine-Tailed Demon Fox had rampaged through the Hidden Leaf a little over a decade ago, appearing seemingly from nowhere. It seemed to be generally accepted as fact that the Fourth Hokage had ultimately sacrificed himself to kill it, but Utakata knew he could discount that as a rumor. Thanks to the Rokubi, the bubble-user had access to information other people didn't.

For a start, a Bijū could not simply be killed by a mere human. Aside from harnessing the power of the Bijū for mankind's own purpose, it was the main reason Jinchūriki had come into existence in the first place, and one of the chief reasons the Bijū were commonly taken from their older hosts and resealed into younger ones. Unless some masterful strides in sealing techniques had come about over a decade ago, or some convoluted geopolitics were at play, there was only one possible conclusion.

Konoha had a Jinchūriki, a jail for the Nine-Tailed Demon Fox it didn't want the rest of the world to know about.

He took a moment to muse over that revelation. If the Hidden Mist, Leaf, and Cloud Villages all had Jinchūriki, it was probably safe to assume that the other two Five Great Shinobi Nations – the Hidden Rock and Sand – had at least one Jinchūriki as well. It wouldn't do for three of the five Great Nations to have a Tailed Beast and the other two to not. Besides, with the One-, Four-, Five-, and Seven-Tails unaccounted for, Utakata was almost guaranteed to find at least one of them within Iwa or Suna.

Still, the Hidden Leaf was closer and rumored to be more tolerant than any of the other villages, not to mention that the Kyūbi, with the most tails, was likely to prove most beneficial to his cause.

His decision was made. To Konoha it is.

Why do things never seem to work for me? Utakata thought with an annoyed scowl as a stream of water popped his Drifting Bubble Technique. His former life in Kirigakure was proof of that.

Though his mother had died in childbirth, his father's status as one of the Seven Shinobi Swordsmen meant that Utakata was a child of interest to the Hidden Mist's hierarchy. Unfortunately, that status, and his father's death, had made him ripe for consideration when the first Rokubi Jinchūriki had sustained a lethal injury in the Sanbi's assault on Kiri.

The brown-haired boy had long ago accepted that, logically, the decision had been a sound one, though it hadn't stopped him from growing up disillusioned with his role in the Hidden Mist. He'd possessed such potential, the legacy to become another of Kiri's kenjutsu masters in his blood…

But becoming a Jinchūriki had stripped him of that opportunity, and Utakata had instead received the distinct impression that he didn't belong. When he'd eventually brought up the bubble-users' strange treatment of him with Saiken, the slug had spoken of their deference for the original Rokubi Jinchūriki, further confusing the brunet. Their contrasting distaste of him had only isolated him further in a village already disinclined to form attachments.

Utakata could understand their reverence for the man who had started and inspired an entire sect of shinobi. He could appreciate it better if he'd been granted even a modicum of the same decorum. Scorn, he had learned from life experience, was not unfamiliar to Jinchūriki.

Of course, it probably hadn't helped that it had taken a number of years to understand and control Saiken's unwanted 'gift', with interactions in the interim having…interesting results. That he'd been stuck wearing his predecessor's specially-made clothes to help contain said gift probably didn't endear them to him either, painting him as a wolf in sheep's clothes.

As a child, a small part of Utakata had always hoped that the bubble-users would eventually accept him, but when it became apparent that his master Harusame was the only one who would give him the time of day, that hope faded with his youth. Their apathy was marginally better than the slanted looks and snide whispers the rest of the Hidden Mist's population graced him with; the Sanbi's attack had, unsurprisingly, left an unfavorable impression of the Bijū and those associated with them.

The one saving grace of his life had been his early friendship with Yagura…

Not that he thought he deserved that anymore. A better friend would have found a way to stop the mistakes of his fellow demon container: the Bloodline Purges and divisive civil war, the fragmentation of the Seven Shinobi Swordsmen, the continuation of the barbaric Academy graduation ceremony…

And now Utakata knew why everything had gone so terribly wrong, why their friendship had faded upon the younger boy's ascension to Mizukage: Yagura was being manipulated. The uncharacteristic, merciless orders Yagura had given while acting as the Yondaime had been in stark contrast to the quiet, gentle child the brunet had befriended.

Now that he had evidence that Yagura hadn't really been behind any of those orders, it felt like a weight had been lifted off his chest. His friend hadn't really changed at all. The knowledge didn't assuage the guilt he felt at letting his friend be manipulated – his inability to get close to the Mizukage notwithstanding – but now he had a chance to rectify his mistakes and change both their futures.

His friend was in trouble, and the bubble-user would do everything he could to protect him, no matter how difficult the situation he got himself into turned out to be.

Which brought Utakata back to his original thought that things never really worked out for him.

He fell gracefully through the Land of Fire's canopy, noting the quartet of hunter-nin arrayed below him. It's only been a day, he groused. Yagura – or the mysterious man controlling him – had (unsurprisingly) dispatched the oinin to track him down and subdue him.

They likely hoped the fall would debilitate him, but Utakata reacted quickly, pulling out his bamboo bubble blower and unleashing a stream of bubbles he used as stepping stones to reach the forest floor, kimono billowing out at his back. Suiton: Hōmatsu no Jutsu! he thought upon landing, twisting on the balls of his feet. Innumerable bubbles flowed from the bamboo weapon, creating a wall of translucent spheres between him and the Mist shinobi. With a snap of his fingers, the bubbles exploded into a thick smokescreen that pervaded the immediate vicinity. Time to make my escape.

A whip of water lashed around his wrist, and golden eyes went wide. Stupid! Of course they'd bring a sensor! You're distracted. He focused on the joint, releasing the chakra there that he'd trained to act as a second skin.

The thin whip touching his wrist disintegrated, his skin's natural acidity dissolving the fluid restraint enough to wrench his limb free. Unrestrained, Utakata immediately brought his blower to his lips again and expelled another slew of bubbles. They popped under an incoming hail of senbon, bursting into sticky green slime that captured the needles and gummed up the surrounding forest.

Utakata took advantage of the momentary respite and fled on foot, no destination in mind except away.

The Jinchūriki's mind raced as fast as his body, every move performed automatically to give him freedom to think. Whatever sensor they'd brought along was likely to pose a significant problem for his escape.

If the oinin followed him, they would know that his destination was Konoha. He'd have to switch strategies, at least temporarily, and simply make it look like he was putting as much distance between himself and the Land of Water as possible instead of having a specific destination in mind. Once he was sure he'd lost them, he could double back to the Hidden Leaf.

He angled northwest into the Land of Fire, hindered slightly by the unfamiliar terrain. It would only get worse as he kept moving, and a ninja wasn't good unless he could adapt.

He was dead otherwise.

"Nnn…"

Consciousness returned slowly, though not without consequence. A painful throbbing boomed in his head.

"Oh, Tonbee, I think he's waking up!"

Golden eyes snapped open, and Utakata sat up, the sheet pulled over him crumpling at his waist. His back ached, and when his hand instinctively flew to soothe it, a sharper pain flared in his shoulder. Shit…

"Please, you shouldn't move too much."

The Jinchūriki focused on the girl kneeling beside him, wavy blonde hair framing concerned green eyes. In the doorway behind her stood an older gentleman in his sixties, by the brunet's guess. "What—" he tried, but the remaining words seemed stuck in his throat, dry from disuse.

"Here's some water," the girl offered.

Utakata gulped the liquid down. The older man, Tonbee, stepped into the room and over to the brunet. He looked as if he wanted to push the Jōnin down into the futon, but something was stopping him. "You should rest. You'll be safe here. It's the least I can promise for rescuing Hotaru-sama from those shinobi."

Rescue…her? A frown settled over Utakata's lips as he reclined, his initial panic assuaged. That didn't sound like him, especially given his fugitive status. What happened? he wondered as his eyes closed.

"Suiton: Suiryūdan no Jutsu!"

Utakata's yelp of commingled surprise and pain turned into a gurgle as the Water Dragon Bullet Technique slammed into him and drove him against a tree. A knot dug into his back, and a low branch pierced his right shoulder from the force of the attack.

With his dominant arm out of commission, the renegade fumbled for the bubble blower tucked into his waistband. Before he could reach it, a long length of wire spooled around him from behind, trapping him against the tree trunk. A mild electrical shock coursed along the metal, momentarily paralyzing him before he could move.

"Taichō, we've got him."

Utakata looked up at the shinobi who'd spoken, furious gold glaring at a porcelain mask. We'll see… he thought, preparing to release the chakra holding the Rokubi's gift at bay.

"Suiton: Mizurappa."

Utakata gagged on the Wild Water Wave, brown hair hanging lank in his eyes. "Keep him wet," ordered another oinin. "Otherwise he'll escape again before taichō gets here."

Someone knows what he's doing. Saiken?

One moment.

"What are you carrying?"

"Some girl. She was in the way when I was getting set up."

Utakata tilted his head to get a better look, finding the second oinin carrying someone with a head of blonde hair under his arm. The two Mist shinobi seemed distracted by their conversation, so the Jinchūriki again prompted, Saiken?

The Rokubi's red-orange chakra oozed from his pores, melting through the wire and the trunk at his back, eliciting surprised shouts from the pair of Kiri-nin. He fell backwards, dodging the water jutsu that flew in his direction. Bubbles dribbled off his chakra cloak and floated towards the hunters, each one carrying a greenish tinge. Both Mist shinobi countered with more water, and Utakata expelled his own sickly-looking Mizurappa. Where the two techniques collided, cascading droplets ate away at the forest floor's detritus.

More bubbles floated off his body, adding to the plethora surrounding the pair of Kiri-nin. They summoned a torrent of water that crashed into the Jinchūriki just as the brunet snapped his fingers. The bubbles exploded, acid spilling over the pair while the Great Waterfall Technique washed Utakata away, diluting the Six-Tails' acidic chakra.

Drained by the sudden loss of Saiken's strength, Utakata lay prone on the forest floor, distantly aware of a blonde-haired body beginning to get up from where it had been tossed away during his attack.

Then there was nothing but darkness.

Utakata awoke with a jolt, breathing shallow. He sat up slowly and brought a hand to his head, wincing as his shoulder protested the motion. Quiet snuffling nearby drew his attention to the now-familiar head of blonde hair, the girl – Hotaru, he recalled – asleep beside his bed.

Gingerly this time, he stretched his good arm across his body to check his wounded shoulder. Frayed pieces of bandages lingered around the area where the tree branch had pierced.

"We tried to wrap your injury"—Utakata started at the gruff voice, turning to see Tonbee walking through the doorway—"but every time we tried, the bandages dissolved." When he was close enough, he presented his hands to the brunet, burn marks marring weathered skin.

"I'm sorry about that," he offered quietly. "My ability…it's not intentional. I can't control it when I'm unconscious. It should be safe now."

Tonbee knelt beside him, dipping a fresh towel in the bowl of water by his bed and using it to wash the blood from the Jinchūriki's back. Utakata flinched away from his touch. The older man furrowed his brow. "Does that hurt?"

Utakata decided that pain was a believable (and convenient) excuse. "…Yes…"

Tonbee nodded, as if understanding the teenager's reticence. "Ah, I see." There was a long pause before he continued, "I wish to offer you my sincerest gratitude for protecting Hotaru-sama. She is…precocious, and I cannot say what would have become of her had you not arrived in time."

Utakata didn't respond, watching Hotaru while the older man cleaned and bandaged his wound. It would be unwise to reveal to his hosts that the oinin had been after him, not her, the blonde a mere bystander caught in the crossfire. Since it seemed they didn't know who he was, bringing any unwanted attention that might reveal his identity was out of the question.

Hotaru stirred beneath his gaze, opening sleepy green eyes and staring blearily at the Jinchūriki. "Oh, you're awake. Thank you so much for saving my life…um…"

"Yagura," Utakata said. The name fell automatically from his lips, a reminder of who he was fighting for.

Green eyes sparkled with adoration, any sign of sleepiness dispelled. "Thank you, Yagura-sama! Um, if you don't mind…would you please teach me to fight like you?"

Utakata's brow furrowed in confusion, sharp eyes analyzing the girl bowing before him. He'd never been propositioned before (in any sense), given the propensity of others to avoid him (and vice versa), and the mere suggestion was baffling. Users of the bubble-line ninjutsu were rare in the Hidden Mist, and even among them, only he could manipulate the corrosivity of fluids.

That, useful or detrimental, was a talent all his own, granted to him by the Rokubi.

Mentally, he shook his head, even while his physical body continued to observe the prostrate form of the blonde with all the mobility of a statue. What could I teach her? he mused, a dark-humored sense of self-deprecation tinging the thought. And where would I even begin?

To say that he was uncomfortable with human interaction was an understatement. Despite the village's shortcomings, Kiri at least had prepared him well enough for a life as a weapon, not a person.

And besides, what use was some unskilled girl to his mission? Even trained by him, Hotaru wasn't a Jinchūriki, and certainly didn't appear to offer any sort of benefit to his cause. She'd apparently been caught completely unaware by the oinin, which, while not unexpected, didn't exactly inspire confidence.

No, there was nothing he could do for this girl. Still, the words that escaped his lips were, "Maybe when I've recovered." That, at least, wasn't guaranteeing anything, and would hopefully allow him the time to heal. In the meanwhile, there was no reason not to accept their hospitality. He offered Tonbee a thankful nod for his aid, sparing a glance for the clean wrap of bandages around his shoulder.

"Oh, thank you, Yagura-sama! Is there anything you need?"

"I'm fine, thanks." He closed his eyes once more and leaned back.

"Come, Hotaru-sama, we should allow him his rest."

Utakata allowed his tense muscles to relax into the futon when the pair's footsteps indicated their exit from the room. Subterfuge was not a talent of his, given his relative isolation in Kiri, and the mixture of lying, fleeing, and socializing was getting to him. How long he would last under Tonbee's watchful eye and Hotaru's inquisitive gaze was a crapshoot.

Eventually, those stressful thoughts faded to the background of his mind, and the Jinchūriki dropped into slumber.

Utakata cursed, dodging to avoid a stream of water and turning briefly to blow some bubbles at the pursuing oinin. A quick snap of his fingers exploded the floating spheres, and he used the momentary diversion to speed up, golden eyes scanning the landscape for a sign of anything that could aid his flight.

The vast emptiness of the dry Land of Earth greeted him, offering only the occasional boulder as respite. I was better off in the Land of Demons. At least that had some semblance of shelter and water.

Of course, anything he'd found in the territory west of the Elemental Nations had paled in comparison to the treatment he'd received on Mount Katsuragi, but after a week recuperating in the presence of Hotaru and Tonbee, he'd run out of excuses to delay training the blonde. Faced with the inevitable confrontation, he'd instead slipped out of their home late at night, silent words of gratitude and apology for the pair echoing in his thoughts.

Karma apparently existed, however, for he'd not only gotten lost in the dark, but another oinin squad had quickly picked up his trail and driven him from the forest to the desert. From there, he'd managed to disappear into the Land of Demons, shoulder still throbbing and only natural poultices to treat it.

That had been two months ago, and now, healed, and with almost four weeks of silence from the hunter-nin, he'd (foolishly) thought it safe to journey to Konoha.

A whistle of displaced air was the only warning he had to dodge before a long, thin sword – essentially a giant needle – with a line of wire tied around the eye at the end whizzed past him. The weapon looped through the air in complex patterns, its trailing wire creating an impassable, latticework web.

Utakata stared at the makeshift barrier, dread pooling in his stomach. They didn't…

The sound of his name spoken from behind by a high, reedy voice forced the brunet to turn and face his growing nightmare. Four Kiri-nin stood before him, the leader an abnormally tall shinobi with a mane of straw-colored hair surrounding the standard Mist oinin mask. Long, gangly limbs and a lithe body gave the hunter-nin an almost spider-like quality that was complemented by the coil of wire looped around one arm.

Kushimaru…

Kuriarare Kushimaru was the head of the oinin and the best capture-and-retrieval specialist the Hidden Mist had to offer, his title well-earned and aided by the legendary chōtō Nuibari. That a man of Kushimaru's caliber had been sent to bring him back meant that Kiri was done playing around.

"You're coming with us," Kushimaru announced. The aptly-named Sewing Needle returned to his hand. "You can come willingly…or we can have some fun." There was a hopeful lilt to his reedy voice, an ill-disguised wish for his prey to choose the latter option.

They planned this. They backed off to rendezvous with Kushimaru and lure me out. Golden eyes darted around, seeking an escape. None presented itself. Smart. Well, I'd hate to disappoint.

His bubble blower rose to his lips. As the first bubbles escaped, one of the Kiri-nin flanking Kushimaru flashed through hand seals, a thick mist springing into existence on the final one. A drizzle accompanied the haze, and the brunet's attack dissolved into individual water droplets. Kirisame…could this get any worse?

Kushimaru dashed forward then, Nuibari swiping at the Jinchūriki. Utakata barely blocked the attack with his blower, momentarily stunned by the blow, and the swordsman pressed his advantage, beginning an intricate series of slashes and jabs. With the man's taller frame and longer reach, Utakata could feel himself instinctively withdrawing from the fight when Kushimaru suddenly stopped his assault.

The Jinchūriki was only allowed a second of confusion before he felt wire tighten around him, binding arms to his side and legs together. He winced as the wire bit into his body deeper than necessary for restraining purposes before the swordsman announced, "Raiton: Jibashi."

"AHHH!"

The electricity coursing along the wires stopped after several seconds, and Utakata fell to his knees, gasping for breath. He unleashed another scream as Nuibari pierced his side and emerged out his back. "You chose poorly," Kushimaru informed him happily. "The Mizukage is tired of your insubordination." Another electric shock ran along the wires, eliciting more pained cries from the brunet, though that paled in comparison to the defeat weighing on him.

Yagura… The fact that the hunter-nin thought their orders were from the actual Mizukage rankled, but it was drowned out by a flood of guilt.

I…failed…

He struggled to summon the Rokubi's chakra to slip out of or dissolve the bindings keeping him in place – as Saiken's power typically allowed – but it merely flared and then dissipated. Kirisame, the Mist Rain, nullified most of his techniques, including the Biju's chakra, and the short fight with Kushimaru had sapped both his strength and hope. The months of hide-and-seek combined with the resonating internal mantra that he'd failed suddenly seemed to catch up to him, and he collapsed fully, body prostrate on the hard ground.

As his vision blurred and his eyes closed from a mixture of exhaustion, blood loss, and electrocution, Utakata thought he felt a faint rumbling from deep beneath the earth. Then there was rocky debris, a pillar of red liquid, a searing heat…

The last thing Utakata knew before blacking out was his bonds loosening as the Kiri-nin scrambled against some unknown force.

Chapter Text

Before it happened, people would address him with '-kun' or '-dono' when he passed in the street, delighted to be in the presence of the Tsuchikage-to-be's son. He was respected, and many considered him a potential candidate for the Tsuchikage position whenever his father eventually decided to retire, even considering how young he was currently.

After it happened, people scurried away from him and were silent in his passing, unsure how to address the change he'd undergone despite nothing really changing at all. When his brother was born, the citizens appeared visibly relieved, his brother the true (eventual) heir to the Tsuchikage title.

He blamed Mū, he blamed Ōnoki—

But most of all, he blamed the Four-Tailed Monkey sealed within him for how everything had changed.

It was the cluster of grey clouds that caught his attention. Rain was sparse in the Land of Earth, but when it did come, it was typically torrential and widespread.

Skirmishes were less uncommon – Iwa-nin always seemed to be chomping at the bit for a fight – but when they did occur, there certainly wasn't any water involved.

Either way, he was used to ignoring such fights. They didn't concern him, and he saw no reason to interfere with the business of others. Life was easier that way, not that he could really remember a time when life had been easy.

Then came the flare of chakra.

It was brief, barely lasting a second before fading away, but it forced him to focus dark eyes on what he'd hoped to give no second thought. Despite lacking any sensory abilities, that chakra called to him, resonating with something deep in his core. The tinge of familiarity was enough to get him running for the battle, brow furrowed and a scowl on his lips.

I ain't fightin' another.

His hands flew through seals as he approached, the power of the earth and its molten center at his fingertips. Yōton: Yōgan Kanketsusen.

A geyser of lava erupted from the ground between a fallen form garbed in blue and several figures wearing ANBU masks. It melted through the wire restraining the blue-clad figure before fading completely, the chakra feeding it dissipating in the drab weather.

He inserted himself between the ANBU and the unconscious boy as the Lava Geyser technique disappeared, summoning chakra to function as a layer of lava over his body. Hisses erupted as his Lava Armor technique was pelted by water droplets, effectively dousing it despite the weak drizzle. Red eyebrows furrowed together in confused disapproval. That shouldn't happen.

Dark eyes searched the assembled ANBU, focusing on the one in the back with his hands held in an unusual position. Yer th' problem.

Streams of water flew at him from three directions, and slabs of rock rose from the ground to shield him in a crude lean-to formation. Lightning blasted along the earthen barriers, reducing them to rubble and revealing only empty space.

"Find him and kill him," snapped a reedy voice as he reached up from beneath the ground and grabbed a pair of feet. It only took a moment to activate the Double Suicide Decapitation Technique, the targeted ANBU now a mere head aboveground that was quickly severed with the curved blade of his kunai.

As soon as the head rolled off the submerged body, the clouds began to disperse and the accompanying drizzle faded away. He spared a glance at the ANBU mask that stared sightlessly at him, snorting with disdain when he noted the symbol of four curvy lines on its forehead. Kiri. Shoulda guessed.

"Kirigakure no Jutsu!"

A thick fog rolled in from nowhere, cloaking the area in an impenetrable haze. He tucked the kunai away and remained still, waiting; while effective, he'd learned from past battles that practitioners of the Mist's Silent Killing techniques always approached the enemy.

And, as even they well knew, sight was not always a requisite for lethality.

Little tremors in the earth warned him of an impending attack, and he whirled on the spot, grabbing the approaching Mist ANBU by the neck. His Lava Armor sprang to life, a roiling coat of red-orange fire. The Kiri-nin managed a gurgled scream before his throat was cooked, flames engulfing his head before spreading across the rest of his body. He released the burning corpse, the heat emanating from his form burning off the Hiding in Mist Technique and revealing a third shinobi, hands flashing through seals. "Doton Kekkai: Dorō Dōmu!"

Earth rose around him, enclosing him in a dark hemisphere. A smirk sketched itself across his lips even as his chakra was slowly siphoned away. Yeh think yeh can trap me with earth? Stupid. Fingers curling into fists, he punched the wall of the earthen prison. Doton: Ishi no Hari!

Dirt exploded outwards beneath his touch, tiny pieces of debris speeding in the direction of the Kiri-nin. The barrier collapsed seconds later, and he meandered over to find the Mist shinobi's body riddled with the projectiles from his Stone Needles technique. Hn.

Then something sharp pierced his spine, and a high-pitched voice crowed, "Gotcha!"

His Earth Clone crumbled, and the Kiri-nin spun to block his lava-covered fist with a weapon that could only be described as a too-long needle. It surprised him when the metal weapon didn't deform under the intense heat of his Lava Armor, and his adversary capitalized by planting a foot into his chest. He grunted with the blow, skidding backwards, though the Mist shinobi's hiss as he made contact somewhat tempered the ache. "Nuibari's no ordinary weapon," the ANBU told him, pride lacing his reedy voice even as he gingerly set his foot on the ground. He cocked his head to one side, a magpie examining an interesting curio. "Though the same could be said of you, hm?"

A bark of laughter escaped his throat unbidden as he eyed his opponent. Yeh don' know how true that is, he thought sardonically. As short as he was, the other man probably had two feet on him, his limbs unnaturally long. The way he spoke and carried himself suggested that he was on another level compared to his three deceased companions. Don' matter. Yōton: Shakugaryūgan no Jutsu!

The needle-wielder stuck the point of his weapon in the ground, hands flipping through seals. "Suiton: Suijinheki!"

A wall of water erupted from below, intercepting the balls of molten rock hurtling towards him. The Kiri-nin laughed. "So, you really are a Yōton-user, eh? Been awhile since I killed one of you. Should be fun." Silence greeted this proclamation, and the Mist shinobi appeared to grow disheartened. "Not much of a talker, are you?"

Yeh talk enough fer th'  both o' us.

"Fine then," continued the taller man. "I guess I'll just have to make you scream!"

Decision apparently made, he picked up Nuibari and rushed forward. The Iwa-nin parried his enemy's slash with the pair of kunai he'd sheathed at his side, the long weapon sliding along the curved blades of his knives with a metallic screech. He aimed a kick at the taller man's knee, but the Kiri-nin merely used his weapon as a pole and vaulted around it in a semicircle, slamming two water-shod feet into his head.

Steam formed at the point of contact and he skidded sideways, momentarily disoriented. "How much can you take?" taunted the Mist shinobi.

He rose to his feet and glared back before inhaling, chakra gathering in his chest. More than yeh can give. Yōton: Yōryūdan no Jutsu!

A dragon formed of lava roared from between his lips, flowing towards his adversary. The Kiri-nin danced away from the attack, managing to look graceful despite his gangly limbs. He threw his weapon with casual ease, electricity coursing along its length, and the Iwa-nin dodged to avoid getting skewered or shocked, ignoring it as it sailed past.

Then the ANBU pulled on the trailing wire, and something heavy collided with the lava-user's back. He grunted at the impact, stumbling under the sudden weight. A brief peripheral glance revealed it to be the corpse of one of the other Kiri-nin, wire animating his body like a marionette. More wire looped around the pair in a loose cage. "Chōtō Ninpō: Kaminari Ori!"

Bolts of lightning converged on him from the surrounding wire, filling the sphere-shaped prison with blue-white electricity. He gritted his teeth against the assault, but a low growl of mingled pain and frustration slipped past his lips despite his best effort.

The shrill, amused laughter of the Mist ANBU sounded from nearby, and he squinted his eyes open with a scowl. Though he couldn't see beyond the bright Lightning Cage technique, he still heard his enemy cackle, "So you can talk after all! What else can you say? Come on, scream for me!"

Pain and frustration finally boiled into anger. "Yer messin' with th' wrong guy!"

The Kiri-nin stopped laughing and managed a surprised, "Huh?"

"Yōton: Kakazan!"

Magma exploded from beneath him and rained down hot and viscous. From where he stood at the center of the eruption, waves of lava flowed outwards for hundreds of feet, hardening into dark pumice as the seconds passed.

His ragged breathing eventually evened out, hot temper cooling with the release of the Fruit-Flower Mountain technique. "Damn," he muttered. "Let th' bastard git ter me. Stupid." Dark eyes looked around, taking in the results of his handiwork. "No Bijū, though…guess I missed 'im. Hm…?"

Sticking out from the pumice was the long sword the Kiri-nin had referred to as Nuibari. Despite the wire – and the body it had been animating – burning up under the heat of his lava, the weapon appeared undamaged. Employing minor elemental manipulation, he plucked it from its resting place and admired it up close. Nice prize, at least.

He shouldered the weapon, catching sight of a spot of blue outside the limits of the pumice. There yeh are. Approaching the unconscious form revealed him to be a teenager with brown hair and pale skin, only a slight flush providing any evidence that he'd been near the heated battle. Using Nuibari, he speared the nape of the boy's kimono and began to walk away, dragging the body of the Kiri-nin along behind him.

This thing's all kinds o' useful.

Utakata woke with a groan, opening bleary eyes that were greeted by the setting sun and darkening sky. He was lying on his back, a rock pillowing his head. His body felt bruised and dusty, like he'd been pulled over a hard surface a long distance.

Most surprising was the fact that he wasn't trussed up like a pig and being hauled back to Kirigakure.

"Yer awake, eh?" mused a gruff voice. Utakata tried to sit up and turn his head in the direction of the voice, but a figure was suddenly kneeling over him, and steel was resting at his throat. Golden eyes stared down his nose to spy the curved blade of a strange kunai held against his neck. "How 'bout yeh tell me what a Kiri Jinchūriki's doin' all th' way out here, eh?"

Utakata's gaze flickered to focus on the face of his captor. The man possessed shaggy, bright red hair that followed his jawline and was shaped into a short, pointed beard accompanied by a mustache and a high ponytail that jutted up in back. A prominent black strip of something – some weird birthmark, the brunet guessed – ran across the bridge of his nose and over his cheeks, disappearing beneath a tri-pointed headpiece crafted of brown leather; a golden ring dangled from the left side of the headpiece, a metal plate etched with Iwa's symbol of two overlapping rocks displayed across the forehead. Despite his intense curiosity, and considering the precariousness of his situation, Utakata figured it was best to answer the man's questions. "I left Kiri some time ago. The oinin chased me here to capture me. What happened to them?"

"Dead," grunted the older male, "didn' wanna take chances. Th' one with th' giant needle was annoyin', but yer th' real threat."

Kushimaru… If this man had really killed Kushimaru – and Utakata had no reason to believe he was lying, considering his current situation – then he was a force to be reckoned with. "How'd you know I'm a Jinchūriki?"

"I know a Bijū's chakra."

Utakata gave that vague response a moment of thought before slowly asking, "…Are you a Jinchūriki, too?" It would explain why the Iwa-nin hadn't killed him even though he was considered a bigger threat than Kushimaru, because then he'd have to deal with fighting the freed Saiken. (It also made the kunai at his throat a little pointless, but it was probably best to play along.) Plus, that strange black strip on his face could easily be some Bijū's mark. He took the older man's silence as confirmation, inwardly thrilled at his turn of fortune. Excitement bubbled in his chest, and he continued, "This is great. I'm looking for the other Jinchūriki—"

The blade at his throat dug in, breaking skin and cutting off whatever else he was going to say. "Why's that?" growled the redhead, dark eyes flashing. "Kiri got plans fer th' Jinchūriki?"

"I told you, I left Kiri," the brunet replied carefully, silently berating himself for allowing his enthusiasm to take over; he was used to being calm and collected, but after so many months of trying to advance his quest and being stymied by the oinin, true progress was an exciting thing, especially after his near-failure earlier that day. Just because this shinobi's first action wasn't to kill him didn't mean that Utakata wanted to press his luck. Still, honesty was the best policy, not to mention the most likely way to forge an alliance… "The Mizukage's being controlled by someone who's looking to capture all the Jinchūriki and take our Bijū."

He felt the kunai pull away from his throat, just a little; apparently he'd piqued the older man's curiosity. "Why?"

…Good question. "No idea. I left before I could find out. But if we could band together—"

The Iwa-nin barked a rusty laugh, fully withdrawing his blade from Utakata's throat and standing to his full height. "Band t'gether? Are yeh mad?"

Utakata struggled into a sitting position, wincing as the injury from Kushimaru's sword protested the movement. Now that he was upright and the Rock shinobi was distanced from him, he could finally see the older man in his entirety: a purplish, long-sleeved shirt and pants were worn loose on his short frame, form-fitting mesh armor with black sleeves visible at the chest and wrists. Worn leather armor protected his chest and stomach, flaps hanging from the waist to cover his thighs. At first glance, he looked like a warrior from a time long past. "Listen, this person can control a Kage, and he's got an organization of shinobi on the level of Hoshigaki Kisame looking—"

"Who?"

Utakata blinked. "Hoshigaki Kisame. One of the strongest members of Kiri's Seven Shinobi Swordsmen?" One of the only ones left, too, he mused idly. At the other male's raised eyebrow, Utakata shook his head in disbelief. "How have you not heard of Kisame? He's infamous."

The redhead scowled at him. "Boy, I been out here fer longer than yeh've been alive, an' I don' git much in th' way o' news. I'm called Yōton no Rōshi an' I'm infamous, too, but I bet yeh ain't heard o' me."

Utakata frowned. "Well, no, but—"

"Aye," Rōshi nodded, "'cause th' sacrifices o' Jinchūriki ain't talked 'bout but in cruel whispers. That's why I left."

Utakata found that he couldn't argue with that logic; his own life back in the Hidden Mist supported the redhead's words well enough. Still, this was the first break he'd gotten since leaving his village, and to just give up because this other Jinchūriki was stubborn and ill-informed about current events was throwing away a golden opportunity. "Okay, maybe you don't recognize some of the prominent names of today, but you can't really think you can fight whoever Akatsuki is—"

"Akatsuki?" Rōshi interjected. "Yeh said nothin' 'bout Akatsuki."

The brunet fought back his irritation at the continued interruptions before he'd finished his thought, now more intrigued that he'd gotten Rōshi's attention, as well as any additional information he could glean from him. "You know about Akatsuki?"

"Aye," admitted the older Jinchūriki, his lips twisting into a smirk, amusement and cynicism fighting for control, "yeh could say that." For the first time since their conversation had started, the redhead settled himself on a rock in front of the fire and placed the tip of his curved kunai in the flames, dark eyes reflecting the firelight. "Akatsuki's a terrorist group fer hire ter whoever wants 'em. Th' Tsuchikage's been usin' 'em on an' off fer years. I ain't seen 'em in action, but it's said th' members're all S-class nukenin."

S-class terrorists…great. Well, that matched what he knew of Kisame's abilities and personality, so Rōshi's knowledge was at least believable. He wished the redhead knew what Akatsuki's numbers or skill sets were, but at least he now had a generic plateau to reach. S-class shinobi, while scarce, were generally labeled as such due to kekkei genkai or possession of some special power – normally a kinjutsu, though a weapon the likes of Samehada worked, too – and were considered Kage-level. Utakata knew that he was S-class in name because of his status as a Jinchūriki, though his actual rank didn't quite measure up yet; Yagura, however, held and had earned the title.

"Yer sayin' that Akatsuki's after th' Jinchūriki?"

"Seems that way."

"Hmm…"

Utakata allowed his companion to muse in silence, deciding that pressuring the older man into helping him wouldn't achieve the desired result. Even if he wanted (and needed) the assistance of the remaining Jinchūriki, it didn't mean that they'd just go along with his idea. He was relying a little on their desire for self-preservation to sway them to his cause, but loyalty, arrogance, stubbornness, and a dozen other personality traits would have to not get in the way of that. Certainly, if a Jinchūriki had a strong enough tie to his village – and the feeling was reciprocated – then maybe the might of one of the Five Great Shinobi Nations could rebuff an attack by Akatsuki.

But Utakata didn't have that luxury, especially with his village leader being controlled by the very people seeking to capture him, and if he was lucky, Rōshi would join him. The way he spoke certainly indicated a strained relationship with the Hidden Rock, one that would advantage the brunet.

"Say I believe yeh…" Rōshi stated, breaking the Kiri-nin from his thoughts, "what's yer plan?"

"Find the other Jinchūriki," he replied. "Convince them to join us, and then when Akatsuki comes, we fight back." And rescue Yagura.

"Yer crazier than I am if yeh think that'll work," the redhead told him, "an' th' only thing I talk ter is rocks."

Alarm at that admission froze the brunet. Desperately, he probed, "But what about your Bijū?"

Rōshi barked another laugh of mocking amusement. "Ha! Me an' th' Yonbi came ter an understandin' long ago, and it don' involve speakin'."

Utakata felt his heart plummet. He'd been operating under the assumption that most villages would have trained their Jinchūriki in a manner similar to how he and Yagura had been raised in the Hidden Mist: as weapons with the capacity to (eventually) access their Bijū's chakra and transformations. Unlike the Mizukage – who had successfully brought the Sanbi's power under his command – Utakata could only utilize part of the Rokubi's power (and even then, only with Saiken's permission), and it sounded like Rōshi's relationship with the Four-Tails hadn't even gotten to that point despite his significant time with the creature. If the Jinchūriki couldn't access the full power of their Bijū – and that was one of the things the brunet had planned on practicing – could they even defeat Akatsuki?

Still, he'd come up with his plan on the fly, while not in the best mindset, so a fresh perspective might spark something new. He sighed. "Well, do you have a better suggestion?"

"Course not, I only jus' heard 'bout all this," Rōshi rebutted. "But yer speakin' with desperation, an' that's jus' stupid. Workin' with th' other Jinchūriki…" he scoffed. "Nobody likes a Jinchūriki, not even another Jinchūriki."

"That's not true," Utakata snapped, temper surfacing at the unintended slight to his and Yagura's friendship.

Rōshi's dark eyes narrowed on him with suspicion. "Boy, yeh don' know jus' how true it is." Then, before the brunet could retort, the Iwa-nin stood up and stretched, the cracking of his vertebrae echoing loudly in the stillness of the evening. "But I'll tag along."

Utakata's surprise stilled his question about why Rōshi was so sure of his opinions on Jinchūriki. "You will?"

"Sure. Been a long time since I got ter tell someone 'tol' yeh so'. We'll head out when yer strong 'nough ter move on yer own. I ain't yer nurse."

Utakata scowled as Rōshi covered the fire with earth, his rusty chuckles of amusement grating to the brunet's ears. Just…take the win, he told himself.

His journey had finally borne fruit, but it appeared ready to drop and fallow at a moment's notice. He would have to proceed with caution going forward.

Most of Rōshi's distrust of people stemmed from the fact that his nation had turned its back on him simply because he'd become a Jinchūriki, and not by his own choice either (not that anyone would choose that path, but the point remained). Of course, he'd also grown up in a time when the threat of war was constant and Mū, an advocate of backstabbing and selfishness, could spy with no one the wiser, so it was no surprise that the redhead had little faith in people.

The decades he'd spent in isolation probably didn't help either.

Even still, there was something off about the boy – Utakata, he'd finally learned – he was traveling with. His Jinchūriki status and missing hitae-ate suggested the Kiri-nin's story possessed at least some elements of credibility. After all, the Bijū had been sought by people – and then nations by the time they'd become well-known – since the First Hokage had initially handed out the few he'd managed to capture, and ever since, they'd been used as weapons to aid (and prolong) war. The fact that an organization like Akatsuki sought to commandeer them for its own purposes wasn't all that surprising.

But the brunet's story had holes in it, the most prominent being his (misplaced) confidence that one Jinchūriki could get along with another.

Rōshi knew one other demon container personally and had fought against another over the course of Iwa's involvement in the Third Shinobi World War. What interaction he'd had with them suggested that their isolation had allowed them to thrive, in a morbid sort of way. Both, in fact, had wanted nothing more than to kill him. One had already failed; the other was probably still trying to figure out how to do so. Rōshi's self-imposed exile was a testament to just how far a Jinchūriki would go to remove himself from society, to get away from the hatred and disgust that even their own kind couldn't sympathize with.

He only knew of one person who didn't see him as a monster, and she didn't know of his burden.

Dark eyes stared hard at the teenager's back, scrutinizing him for clues. What're yeh hidin', hm? "So," he began as they walked across the Land of Earth's vast wasteland, "where're we goin'?"

"Konoha," Utakata replied, "unless you have a better idea."

"I'm jus' followin' yer lead," the redhead pointed out, "slow as it is."

Utakata spared the older Jinchūriki an annoyed glare at the jab. Likely a byproduct of his solitude, Rōshi's social interactions left much to be desired – which was saying something, coming from him – though the brunet knew that he had to play nice and suffer through his companion's potshots or risk losing his company altogether. Despite that, he had at least acquiesced to the bubble-user's request to sear his wound closed so they could get moving right away, though the pace was a slog compared to how quickly shinobi normally traveled, even with the aid of Nuibari as a walking stick. Smoothing his features into a more diplomatic expression, he said, "I'd welcome your opinions. This is supposed to be a team effort."

"Two people don' make a team," Rōshi argued, "'specially when they jus' met."

"…You don't trust me," Utakata stated after a moment.

"Course not. D'yeh trust me?"

"No." At Rōshi's raised eyebrow, he continued, "I'm not an idiot—"

"Coulda fooled me," grumbled the redhead.

"—but I'm trying to see the bigger picture. Yes, we're strangers, and yes, we're from different villages, but we're both Jinchūriki, and I need your help. And whether you admit it or not, you need mine." He ignored Rōshi's derisive grunt, instead hobbling over to the nearest rock and sitting down with a sigh. The Iwa-nin's dark eyes followed his movements, arms crossed over his chest. "So, what do you want to know?"

"Which one d'yeh have?"

"The Rokubi no Namekuji."

"An' yer powers?"

Instead of responding, Utakata withdrew his bamboo bubble blower, dunked it in his jug of solution, and then blew. A handful of bubbles escaped the weapon's opening, and the older Jinchūriki's eyes followed their path as they rose into the air before a snap of the brunet's fingers had them explode. "Bubbles, eh?" Rōshi mused, one hand stroking his beard. "Kinda wimpy. That all?"

"I can also control the acidity and alkalinity of liquids. And I know a fair amount of Suiton ninjutsu."

"Why'd yeh leave Kiri?"

"I already told you, Akatsuki is controlling the Mizukage to—"

"Hunt down th' Jinchūriki, so yeh said," Rōshi interrupted with a flippant wave of his hand. "But yer tellin' me that no one else in Kiri can tell th' Mizukage's bein' controlled? Do I look daft ter yeh?" When Utakata hesitated in responding, the Iwa-nin's dark eyes narrowed with suspicion. "Don' try ter pull th' wool over my eyes, boy, yer way too young ter get away with it."

After a moment, the former Kiri-nin replied, "The Mizukage…Yagura…he's my friend—"

Rōshi let out a cruel bark of laughter. "I already tol' yeh, Jinchūriki don' have friends."

"We're friends," Utakata asserted fiercely, golden eyes narrowed in challenge, "and he's also a Jinchūriki."

Rōshi blinked in surprise. Jinchūriki were (almost) always connected to a village's Kage in some fashion in order to retain a tether of loyalty (or at least a facsimile of such), but they never became Kage themselves. Utakata continued, "Yagura's the Jinchūriki of the Sanbi no Kyodaigame, and he's able to control the Sanbi's power completely. That's why no one in Kiri is suspicious. No one thinks anyone can control someone who can control a Bijū. Plus, whoever's controlling Yagura has one of the members of the Seven Shinobi Swordsmen on his side, and no one questions the Swordsmen."

The Yonbi Jinchūriki remained silent in the wake of Utakata's revelations. He knew all too well of the fallacies associated with those who were seen as infallible, and while the boy's story now made more sense in some respect, it also implied far more danger. If whoever was in control of Akatsuki could manipulate a Kage who was also a Jinchūriki, what kind of power did that person wield? Utakata seemed to believe that the power of the combined Jinchūriki would be enough to resist Akatsuki, but that plan hinged on bringing together the demon containers. Maybe the former Kiri-nin had befriended his fellow Jinchūriki, but that made him the exception, not the rule.

Like most Iwa-nin, Rōshi was as obstinate as the rocks he manipulated, and experience had taught him that Jinchūriki didn't work together. "Yeh realize that yer tryin' ter ally a buncha shinobi from diff'rent villages, right?"

"Of course. I told you, I'm not an idiot."

"It'll never work. Jinchūriki were made ter fight each other. Even Jinchūriki from th' same village won't work t'gether."

Utakata smiled thinly. "We're working together right now."

Rōshi nickered a skeptical breath, a short laugh of disdain. "Is that what yeh think this is?"

Utakata stared up at the older male through the bangs covering his eye. "I just gave you evidence that two Jinchūriki from the same village can become friends—"

"Yeh tol' me a story, 's what yeh did. There ain't no 'evidence'."

"—and you still don't believe me, which means…you probably have some experience to the contrary." Golden eyes narrowed. "You're not Iwa's only Jinchūriki, are you?"

Rōshi scowled. He hated to admit it, but the boy was intuitive, even if his plan had no chance of working. "No."

The brunet jumped to his feet, wincing as his side protested the action. "Then we should go find him! You can convince him to come with us!"

"Ain't happenin'."

"But we need him!" Utakata protested.

Rōshi's features were stone, dark eyes unflinching. "Ain't. Happenin'," he repeated, tone brooking no argument. "I tol' yeh, nobody likes a Jinchūriki, not even another Jinchūriki. Maybe it's diff'rent fer yeh, but ev'rywhere else, that's how it works. 'Sides, I ain't convinced that this idea'll work, so there ain't no way I'm puttin' myself in danger 'less I see an actual reason ter do so."

Utakata released a growl of frustration, but then allowed the subject to drop. Given their current situation, he would be better off not antagonizing his only ally. "Fine. Can we keep going then?"

Rōshi blinked, a genuine expression of confusion overtaking his dour features. "Yer not gonna ask me anythin'?"

"Would you answer if I did?" Silence was his only response, and Utakata nodded. "Thought not. You'll either tell me in time or I'll figure it out. In the meantime, I'd like to keep moving."

His fellow Jinchūriki shrugged. "Yer th' one who stopped." They walked along in silence for several minutes before Rōshi asked, "Why Konoha?"

"How much history do you know?"

The redhead shrugged again. "Things I did, mos'ly. When yeh live as I do, th' rest o' th' world don' really matter."

Utakata sighed before saying, "About 12 years ago, the Kyūbi attacked Konoha."

"An' th' Yondaime Hokage died." The brunet stared at his companion, surprise clear in his wide eyes. Rōshi stared flatly back. "When a shinobi as big as th' Yellow Flash dies, yeh don' think word spreads? Iwa hates 'im. So yeh think there's a Jinchūriki in Konoha."

"Makes sense," the renegade Kiri-nin replied, walking his companion through his logic. "The story goes that the Yondaime Hokage killed the Kyūbi—" Rōshi snorted to show what he thought of the tale. Utakata nodded. "My thought exactly. When I left Kiri, I knew the locations of three other Jinchūriki for certain, and I didn't think going to Kumo was the best idea."

"Why?"

"Kumo's always been pretty militaristic, and I didn't think I'd be received well there. But I figured Konoha must've had at least the Kyūbi out of the missing Bijū, so that's how I decided."

"Hmm…so Kiri's got two, Iwa's got two, Kumo's got…two?" Rōshi ascertained, ticking the numbers off on his fingers. At Utakata's nod, he continued, "Konoha has one. Suna's got at least one, an' th' last one's either in Konoha or Suna."

"Or unsealed."

Rōshi snorted again. "Tch, right. Ev'ryone scooped up th' Bijū fast as they could. Can't let all that power go ter waste."

"But yeah," Utakata finished, ignoring his companion's snark, "that's what I was thinking."

"Yeh realize that th' Kyūbi Jinchūriki's prob'bly jus' a kid, right? Maybe yer age at th' oldest."

The Kiri-nin opened his mouth to respond and then closed it. Truthfully, in his desperation to escape the Hidden Mist and the hunter-nin, he hadn't given consideration to the Kyūbi Jinchūriki's age, despite assuming that the fox had been sealed roughly a decade prior. Due to their very nature as chakra given animal form, there were limits on when the Bijū could be sealed. Babies and young children whose chakra coils weren't fully developed and had the potential to grow into the massive chakra they would inherit were the only real choices for a successful Jinchūriki (that he knew of).

"Doesn't matter," he finally replied. "The Kyūbi's the strongest of the Bijū, so having its Jinchūriki on our side would make a huge difference. Besides, Yagura became the Mizukage when he was 12, so age is irrelevant."

"He can also control th' Sanbi's power, accordin' ter yeh. I wouldn't use 'im as a measurin' stick."

He said nothing to that. It was good that he'd found Rōshi, but the older man was turning out to be very pessimistic, even compared to Utakata's morose realism. When they reached Konoha and found the Kyūbi Jinchūriki, everything would change.

Hopefully.

"What's next?"

Utakata resisted the overwhelming urge to snap at his companion. Every step of their journey to Konoha had been sprinkled with little pieces of Rōshi's commentary tinged with smug amusement, as if he felt personally vindicated at every blockade put in their path. First was his skepticism on how the bubble-user planned on convincing the Jinchūriki to work together, then it was how to traverse the Land of Fire (which retained some measure of border security as they got closer to Konoha), and now that they'd reached the village proper, it was how they would proceed to find the Jinchūriki.

Granted, Konoha was a big village, and it was a fair question, but between their resourcefulness – Rōshi had used an earth technique to move them underground to bypass the barrier – the brunet figured they could come up with something.

It didn't help his mood that, despite several attempts to convince Rōshi to get Iwa's second Jinchūriki to join their cause, the older man had stubbornly refused to provide any additional assistance. "Look for the Jinchūriki."

"'Cause it's jus' that simple," came the sarcastic response.

"You said it yourself," Utakata pointed out, "he's within a certain age range. Check the Academy, or the training grounds, or somewhere a young shinobi would go."

"An' if he's on a mission?" Rōshi argued. "We could jus' be wastin' our time."

"Then we wait. Do you have something better to do?" The redhead grunted, but made no other noise of dissent. Utakata smirked to himself. That's what I thought. "In the meantime, we search."

Konoha's size aside, it didn't take long to find the Shinobi Academy, and they passed the time waiting for the kids to be let out in silence. Utakata had discovered that Rōshi's exile made him comfortable with prolonged bouts of quiet, despite how opinionated he was when it came to certain topics. While Utakata didn't mind the silence, given his own social reticence, he also knew that if the Jinchūriki were to learn to work together, communication was required.

And while Utakata could talk to Yagura, he didn't have the same level of comfort around the Iwa-nin.

"Uchiha, nobody, nobody, Yamanaka," Rōshi muttered, startling the bubble-user.

"What are you doing?"

Rōshi jerked his head toward the Academy, where students were now flowing out. "Cataloguin'. Pink hair? Nobody, Nara, Akimichi."

Utakata blinked in surprise. His missions hadn't led him through the Land of Fire, and Rōshi seemed like too much of a hermit to have any sort of knowledge related to what he could only presume was clan affiliation. "How?"

"Know yer enemy," came the gruff reply. He pointed towards the first boy out. "That style o' shirt, with th' upturned collar, that's what th' Uchiha clan wears." He moved on to a girl with long, platinum blonde hair tied in a high ponytail. "Hair color o' th' Yamanaka clan. Nara hair style, Akimichi body, Aburame clothin', Inuzuka facial tattoos," he continued, indicating more children in turn. "Th' rest o' 'em ain't from any big clan…"

Utakata was already nodding in acceptance of Rōshi's classifications of Konoha's up-and-coming shinobi, so when the older man cut himself off abruptly, the brunet figured his companion had seen his understanding and allowed his analysis to stop. But when the redhead uttered something in as close to a tone of disbelief as the renegade Mist shinobi had heard thus far, he prompted, "Sorry, what?"

"Namikaze," Rōshi whispered, his voice a mixture of shock and fear.

Utakata frowned. "Namikaze…as in the Yondaime Hokage?"

"D'yeh know o' any other Namikaze?" Rōshi snapped.

"No. Where are you looking?" The Iwa-nin pointed, and golden eyes followed the direction to a boy with spiky yellow hair and crystal blue eyes trailing the crowd. Despite the exotic combination, the most intriguing feature of the boy was a set of prominent whisker-like markings, three on each cheek. "Are you sure? I've never heard of the Yondaime Hokage having a son." Not that he knew much of the man beyond his reputation; Kirigakure preferred to boast about its own history, not that of other nations.

Rōshi fixed him with the most serious look Utakata had seen on the redhead. "Boy, if yeh'd seen 'im mow down an army o' shinobi, yeh'd never ferget what he looked like either. 'Sides," he continued, turning back to scrutinize the blond, "yeh see th' whiskers?"

So he noticed, too. "You think that's his mark?"

"Aye, a fox, right?" At Utakata's hum of assent, Rōshi nodded. "That's my guess. An' since most Jinchūriki're related ter their Kage, 'im bein' Namikaze's son makes sense."

Utakata nodded. "Fair enough. Let's follow him," he urged, grabbing Rōshi's sleeve and tugging on it. The older Jinchūriki yanked himself from the brunet's grip with a violent jerk but followed his companion anyway, grumbling at the teen's pushiness.

They trailed the blond child to a playground that immediately emptied upon the boy's presence. Utakata nudged the redhead at that development, and Rōshi scowled at his companion's eagerness. The visual of people starkly avoiding the Namikaze child was just another line of evidence that he was Konoha's Jinchūriki, and he didn't need Utakata's enthusiasm to remind him of the shitty life their kind led. "So yeh've found 'im. Now what's yer plan?" he asked snidely.

"We need to talk to him in private. Can you use that Doton jutsu again?"

Rōshi quirked an eyebrow, but began forming seals. "Aye."

Utakata forestalled him by shaking his head. "Wait for me." He ran through his own hand seals, an intense look of concentration on his face. Rōshi almost asked what his plan was, but decided to see what the younger male was doing without breaking his focus.

So seamlessly that he was sure he would have missed it if he wasn't actively watching for something, a thin layer of liquid formed from the moisture in the air, creating a hemispherical bubble around the swing set the blond child was on. "Okay, go now."

Rōshi went through the seals for the Earth Release: Underground Projection Fish Technique once more, sinking through the earth and practically swimming through it as the technique's name suggested. Judging himself to be beneath the boy based on the slight vibrations of the swing set in the earth, he surfaced and immediately clasped one hand over the blond's mouth and one around his torso before sinking back into the ground and heading for the forest surrounding the village proper.

Utakata watched from the sidelines as Rōshi crept up on the blond boy and kidnapped him. As the caster, he could see through the bubble he'd placed over the swing set, though anyone else would only see what the genjutsu on the bubble's surface displayed. Maybe capturing their prospective ally wasn't the best way to endear themselves to him, but they needed to have a conversation away from prying eyes, and no matter how deserted the playground seemed, there was always the potential for mishaps.

The bubble's surface showed the blond getting up and walking away, and Utakata allowed a small detachment to break off and take on the shape of the Konoha child, a Bubble Clone wandering off in a direction that would hopefully avoid detection. That done, he left for the forest, hoping that Rōshi had chosen an ideal rendezvous point.

Chapter Text

"Hey, Hokage-jii-san, how come you're so nice to me?"

"Hm? Well, it's the Hokage's duty to look after the people of Konoha. I watch over everyone, and in turn, the village prospers."

"So if I become Hokage, people will have to pay attention to me, right? 'Cause I'll be protecting them."

A somber expression overtook the Hokage's face, saddened by the child's simplistic solution to a problem far beyond his comprehension. "That may be an oversimplification," he placated. "The Hokage must also be strong—"

"But you're so old!"

He leveled a mock-affronted look at his companion. "I'm not that old. Besides, with age comes wisdom and experience. I'll have you know I'm stronger than I look."

"Eh, really? Well, then I'm gonna become even stronger than you so I can be Hokage!"

The Hokage chuckled, tousling the boy's already-unruly blond locks and earning a shout of protest. "I look forward to that day, Naruto-kun."

Today sucks.

So what if he'd been late to class? He'd been busy training to become Hokage! It wasn't like he'd ever learned anything of use in the Academy anyway, even though Iruka insisted that everything he taught was super important. What use was math in the face of an awesome jutsu?

But, Iruka always argued, strategy counted for something. 'The size or power of a jutsu is meaningless if a shinobi is clever enough to escape or counter it,' he'd say.

That was why they always practiced the same three techniques over and over and over again, until Naruto had gotten so sick of the monotony that he'd just given up going to class to master them. That he still couldn't figure out how to produce a true Bunshin didn't help his motivation either; it seemed like no matter how much chakra he used or how hard he focused, his clones always turned out half-formed and sickly.

Hearing that he'd need to produce a passable clone to graduate from the Academy had caused an uncomfortable knot in his stomach, a seed of despair that had bloomed into full growth with the call of his name.

"I'm sorry, Naruto, but we can't pass you."

'Again' had gone unspoken, though it hadn't changed the demoralizing weight that burdened his body. Watching his classmates meet their parents with new hitae-ate displayed proudly on their foreheads had only reminded him of both his failure and his loneliness, and so he'd turned and left, heading for the solace of the local playground.

Where everyone else was congratulated for their achievement, he wallowed in the despair of defeat.

Allowing the gentle rocking motion of the swing to provide a tiny semblance of comfort, he took the silence to think about what would happen next. His classmates would progress to the next level of shinobi life while he was left in the dust for another year.

Or maybe worse. Was there a punishment for those who had failed the Graduation Exam three times? Despite his continually terrible performance, he hadn't yet been removed from the Academy (although that may have been due to the support of the Third Hokage; there was no way of telling), but maybe that was just because he hadn't yet failed three times. Things tended to work out in threes – the basic Academy ninjutsu, strikes in stickball…points in an argument – so maybe the instructors had just been waiting for this moment to expel him.

What if they won't let me be Hokage?!

A hand clamped over his mouth – muffling his yelp of surprise – and an arm wrapped around his torso. In the next instant, his vision was engulfed in darkness, and then, after what seemed like hours but was likely only a minute, tops, he could see again.

He blinked in surprise as his vision returned. He was in the middle of the forest, surrounded on all sides by towering trees. Dappled sunlight filtered down through the treetops, casting strange patterns against gnarled bark. Wow… Having never been outside of Konoha's great walls before, the sheer beauty of his surroundings was a welcome distraction from his current situation.

It was as he was turning around in admiration that he spotted his (presumed) kidnapper standing several feet away. The man was short and clad in what Naruto thought were purple pajamas, with scruffy, bright red hair held in a topknot that matched his short beard and connecting mustache. Judging by his forehead protector, he was not from the Hidden Leaf. "Hey!" he shouted, feelings of peace suddenly shattered by a righteous anger. "You think you can get away with kidnappin' the future Hokage, Uzumaki Naruto?"

"Shuddup, kid," grumbled the redhead, tone filled with bored disdain.

Naruto was used to how people talked to or about him in the same manner, but combined with the day he'd had so far, the man's actions and condescension were the final straws. With the intent to show his kidnapper what-for, he took two steps forward and then stumbled, letting out a surprised, "Wha—?" as he did. A glance down revealed his feet encased up to the ankle in hard rock that hadn't been there a moment ago.

"I'd stay put if I were yeh," the redhead advised. Naruto returned his gaze to the older man to find him pulling his hands apart from a clasped position. The blond reached into his kunai pouch and withdrew one of his blades to start breaking himself free of the rock, but the other male just laughed – almost cruelly, he thought – and said, "Don' waste yer time, yeh ain't gonna break out o' that."

Not one to listen to the advice of others, Naruto continued stabbing at his restraints. After almost a minute of hacking, his kidnapper's gruff voice asked, "Uzumaki yeh say?"

Force of habit had the blond stop to look up, gesture to his chest with his thumb, and boisterously reply, "Yeah! Uzumaki Naruto, future Hokage!"

The redhead waved him off. "Aye, I heard yeh th' first time. Not Namikaze, eh?" he muttered.

"Who?"

His kidnapper stared at him in what Naruto guessed was disbelief for a long moment before turning away, muttering incomprehensibly. The blond let out an indignant huff before returning to the task of freeing himself. After another several minutes, the redhead grumbled, "Finally," and Naruto raised his head to look at what had driven him to speak.

Floating towards them was a boy with shoulder-length brown hair, casually sitting cross-legged inside a bubble. He was clothed in a blue kimono, and Naruto guessed he was probably a teenager. Once he was close enough, the bubble popped, and the kimono-clad boy alit on his feet with dainty ease.

Or it would have been if he didn't stumble the landing, a long, thin weapon digging into the ground and serving as a makeshift walking stick that kept the brunet (mostly) upright.

Naruto was so amazed by his appearance that he'd stopped working on his escape and was fixated on the new arrival. He snapped out of his daze when the redhead barked a laugh. "Ain't yeh graceful?"

The brunet chose to ignore his companion's sarcasm, instead straightening his posture and offering a genial, "Nice job, Rōshi. As far as I can tell, no one followed us, and we're pretty well hidden," he added, glancing around as if to accentuate this point. Naruto noticed he had a very calm way of talking, his voice even despite the praise he credited his accomplice. Though it might have just seemed that way in comparison to the redhead, who seemed as big a jerk as any of the people he'd run into in Konoha.

"Bah, don' matter," Rōshi scoffed. "Th' kid's a dud. Ain't even a Namikaze."

A startled expression overtook the brunet's features. "You said he was."

Rōshi shrugged. "It was a guess. An' he seems pretty stupid."

Naruto decided he'd had enough of being ignored and insulted. "Hey, you're talkin' about the future Hokage! Lemme go before I kick your ass!"

"Loud, too," added the redhead dryly.

"You're sure he's not the Jinchūriki?"

"I didn' ask, if that's what yer—"

"What's a…whatever you said?"

Both kidnappers turned to look at the blond. The younger one cursed, his calm composure fracturing. "What's the likelihood that Konoha didn't tell its Jinchūriki that he's a Jinchūriki?" he asked his companion.

"Slim ter none," Rōshi responded, raising his chin to scratch his beard. "Th' strongest o' th' Biju at their disposal an' they ain't usin' 'im as a weapon? Seems unlikely."

"But everything else fit!" his companion protested, the timbre of his voice cracking with emotion. He began ticking off his fingers. "Solitary, disliked, connected to a high-ranking political figure—"

"Which he ain't," Rōshi interjected. "I tol' yeh it was a guess. 'Sides, yeh said it yerself, Namikaze didn' have a son, an' this damn idiot don' even know who he is."

"Just because we didn't hear of one doesn't mean he didn't have one. He's even got the marking!"

"Yer graspin' at straws. Jus' 'cause yeh want 'im ter be th' Jinchūriki don' mean he is."

The blue-clad boy waved off his companion's words – receiving an eye roll in return – before turning to the blond. "Hello…"

"Naruto," supplied the redhead, before muttering, "stupid name."

"Naruto," repeated the teenager, "who are your parents?"

Unable to move, and deciding that playing along might expedite his release, Naruto replied, "Dunno. Never had any parents."

His kidnappers exchanged glances before the brown-haired boy turned back to him and said, "According to my friend here"—Rōshi scoffed again—"you bear a striking resemblance to Namikaze Minato."

"Who?"

Rōshi again muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like 'idiot'. His companion turned to offer him a brief frown, and when he returned to speaking to Naruto, the expression remained etched on his face. "Namikaze Minato," he repeated, "your Yondaime Hokage."

Excitement bubbled within the blond's chest, all his problems momentarily forgotten. "I'm related to the Yondaime?!"

"It's…possible…"

"Bah, who cares?" Rōshi interrupted. "Th' kid ain't who yer lookin' fer, an' I ain't wastin' any more time here." He turned around and began to march away, the earth holding Naruto's feet in place crumbling away.

There were a lot of things that irritated Naruto, but being blown off by people who thought they were better than him – his (former) classmate Sasuke tended to act like that in their spars – was near the top of that list. Given that Rōshi had been nothing but condescending towards him during their entire interaction, the blond decided to take advantage of the older man's blasé attitude while he had the opportunity and teach him a lesson. He rushed past the blue-clad teenager – who called out his name in a warning – and charged the redhead with his kunai, fully prepared to enact vengeance.

He was caught by surprise when Rōshi turned and delivered a vicious spin-kick to his side, sending him rocketing into a thick tree trunk amidst a crunch of mangled bark. "So, yeh thought yeh could pull a fast one on me, eh?" The redhead stalked towards him, cracking his knuckles as he approached. "Yer too young ter be thinkin' yeh can take me on. Back off, boy," he barked when the brunet rushed closer in protest.

"Rōshi, you can't—"

"I can do what I want, 'less yeh sudd'nly turned inter th' Tsuchikage." He returned his attention to Naruto even as he continued to address the blue-clad male. "Yeh want ter see if he's th' Jinchūriki? This'll show if he's th' weapon they woulda trained 'im ter be."

Naruto rose from his slumped position with a groan and charged Rōshi again, this time telegraphing a punch. The redhead effortlessly caught the fist in his hand and then brought his knee into the blond's stomach, leaving him slumped over and wheezing for air. He slammed his elbow down on the boy's clavicle, laying him out flat on the ground, then stomped down with one foot. A rock jutted up from the earth and delivered a second blow to Naruto's stomach. The blond dry-heaved from where he lay.

"Rōshi, that's enough!"

The redhead glowered at the brunet for a long moment before turning and walking away with a snort. "Tch, waste o' time."

"Now we have to leave," his companion reprimanded. "We could've just separated peaceably, returned him back to the village, but now that you assaulted him, he'll tell the Hokage and Konoha will definitely be on the lookout for us."

"Hmph, yer optimistic. They woulda come after us anyway. Yer on yer own," Rōshi added, waving a hand in dismissal. "I tol' yeh this was a stupid idea, an' yeh've still got nothin' ter show fer it."

"We would've been able to keep looking if you hadn't lost your temper!"

"I jus' tol' yeh, there ain't no more 'we'."

Naruto slowly rose to his feet as the two argued. Even Sasuke had never beaten him so thoroughly and viciously, and now he was both pissed and humiliated. "Hey…oji-san…" he gasped, "I'm not…done…yet…"

Rōshi turned around and graced the blond with one of the most scornful expressions he'd ever seen, as if the finger he was pointing determinedly at the older man was a particularly bad joke. From his periphery, Naruto could see the other boy staring at him with something akin to awe on his features, probably amazed at his tenacity (or sheer awesomeness, either was a possibility). He brought his fingers into the Ram seal and announced, "Oiroke no Jutsu!"

Smoke enveloped his body briefly, only to dissipate and leave a taller, well-endowed, naked, female blonde with pigtails in his place. He blew a kiss at Rōshi, a sensual invitation designed to derive a reaction from him like he had from the normally straight-laced Iruka. From the corner of his eye, Naruto spied the brown-haired boy determinedly looking away.

Whatever he had expected to happen, it never came to pass. Rōshi's dark eyes narrowed into an approximation of obsidian chips, his hands fisted at his sides and anger shaking his body. "Yeh call that ninjutsu?!" he roared, hands flying through seals. "What self-respectin' shinobi falls fer somethin' so stupid? This's ninjutsu!"

"Rōshi, don't!"

"Yōton: Yōnami!"

Utakata couldn't find the words to express the disappointment flooding his veins. He'd had such high hopes that the blond child Rōshi had been so certain was the Namikaze heir was also the Kyūbi Jinchūriki that he hadn't even taken a moment to question the alternative. Even in their short window of observation, there had been enough mirrored similarities to his and Rōshi's lives as Jinchūriki that the likelihood of the boy not being the fox's container was astronomical.

But fate seemed to have him slated for failure, his enthusiastic haste overwhelming the common-sense decision to actually confirm their suspicions.

Now they had more than just circumstantial evidence, and given Naruto's general lack of knowledge and skill, it was hard to deny that the boy didn't seem all that likely a Jinchūriki candidate anymore. The Hidden Villages of Mist and Rock had pressed their Jinchūriki into becoming weapons as soon as they were capable; sooner in some cases. If Konoha, which possessed the strongest of the Bijū, hadn't…well, the bubble-user couldn't think of anything more surprising than not using all available resources to their fullest potential.

Despite that, he admired the boy's strength of character; if nothing else, getting up after Rōshi had delivered such a swift and brutal beatdown was impressive. Foolhardy, given how badly the redhead outclassed the boy, but admirable nonetheless.

But now the blond was far more likely to tell Konoha's superiors about his kidnapping, thus delaying his own plans to find and sway the true Jinchūriki to his side. The fact that he'd apparently used up Rōshi's tolerance on this mission was just another failure that he'd have to try and fix, and quickly.

"Oiroke no Jutsu!"

Utakata glanced over at the blond's shout and then quickly averted his eyes, embarrassed at the sight that greeted him. Naruto's transformation ploy was valid, he supposed, given that much of mankind would fall for something so…enticing (he'd certainly walked past Kiri's red light district enough times to notice man's folly in that regard), but to use it against someone who had lived the life he (and Rōshi, judging by redhead's shouting) had was misguided.

"—so stupid? This's ninjutsu!"

He became aware of Rōshi's intention just a little too late, spinning around and forming seals even as he instinctively yelled, "Rōshi, don't!" The Water Release: Wild Water Wave he was preparing would never make it in time to counter the stream of lava – Rōshi can use Yōton?! – that had left the redhead's mouth, and Naruto didn't have the wherewithal gained from experience to dodge the ninjutsu in time.

The blond held up his hands in a futile movement to protect himself from the technique, and the lava split and flowed around them like it had hit an invisible barrier.

Utakata swallowed the chakra he'd prepared and stared in shock; even Rōshi was caught flat-footed, letting out a surprised, "Eh?" at the situation.

What's going on? Lava manipulation wasn't completely unheard of – there was a clan in the Land of Water whose members could utilize it (though, as far as he knew, they'd been eliminated in the Bloodline Purges) – but like most kekkei genkai, it was rare. Utakata hadn't even known there were people outside the Land of Water who could use lava elemental chakra until this moment, and given its rarity, it was probably the ability granted to him by the Four-Tails. The odds of finding someone else who could do it – especially within a third Hidden Village – were astronomical.

It's not so strange if he is the Kyūbi Jinchūriki.

Utakata flinched at the unseen voice, a startled, "What?" escaping his lips and drawing a dark look from Rōshi. After being his only companion for the long months he'd been gone from the Hidden Mist, Saiken had been silent since he'd met Rōshi. The slug's burbling, boyish voice was welcome, if surprising, though the way he delivered that tidbit of information sounded almost…bitter. What do you mean?

The Kyūbi's power is…different. While the rest of us Bijū are a physical manifestation of some aspect of the natural world, the Kyūbi is more. All. Humans describe him as a natural disaster because they cannot fathom his ability to manipulate all the different components of the natural world. Just because he can use our powers, he thinks he can lord it over us…

Ah. Now the bubble-user understood the slug's bitterness. To have the powers you prided yourself on usurped by another and potentially perverted against you sounded as aggravating as it was dangerous.

Despite that, Utakata felt a swell of excitement bubble within him again. Saiken had essentially confirmed it: Naruto was the Jinchūriki of the Kyūbi.

On the one hand, it was a relief to know that he and Rōshi hadn't made a mistake in targeting the blond, but on the other, Naruto was not at all what he'd expected when he'd started his mission. The bubble-user had been a Jōnin by age 14, and Yagura had been appointed Mizukage the same year. Given the way Rōshi talked, it probably wasn't too far a stretch to assume that his history wasn't all that different from that of the two Mist Jinchūriki.

He walked over to the scowling Rōshi, grabbed his arm, and pulled him out of the blond's earshot. "He's the Kyūbi Jinchūriki."

Rōshi scoffed. "What, jus' 'cause he can use Yōton?"

"Saiken told me he can use the powers of the other Bijū." When Rōshi's eyebrows furrowed in skeptical incomprehension, Utakata sighed and prompted, "The Rokubi?"

The redhead nodded, though the gesture gave Utakata the distinct impression that he was being patronized. "Ah, right, yer friends with yer Bijū."

"Are you listening to me?" he demanded. "He can copy the abilities of the other Bijū. We found him!"

Rōshi raised an eyebrow. "An'? Did yeh see 'im fight? He's useless. Don' even know what he is. Mebbe yeh found 'im, good job," he added sarcastically, "but he ain't trained."

Utakata was silent for a long moment, digesting his companion's words. Rōshi hadn't said anything that wasn't true or that he himself hadn't seen with his own eyes, but the strength of the Kyūbi couldn't be ignored. Naruto's abilities also provided a solid basis for potentially finding the other Jinchūriki via a pseudo-osmosis (as much of a long shot as that was). We need to take advantage of this opportunity… "We'll train him," he decided.

Rōshi spared him a flat look. "No."

"Why not?"

"He's stupid, ain't even a Genin, an' I ain't wastin' my time helpin' some Konoha brat," spat the redhead.

"Do you have something better to do?" Rōshi could only scowl at the question, and so Utakata admitted, "This isn't exactly my ideal situation either. You think I want to be stuck here training someone from scratch?" He thought briefly of Hotaru, and how he'd rewarded her hospitality by dashing her hopes of being trained to be a kunoichi. This is different, he told himself. We need the Kyūbi on our side. For Yagura. "It's not like I've ever trained someone either—"

"Who said I ain't trained someone?" the Iwa-nin snapped.

Utakata blinked in surprise, everything he'd learned about his companion contrary to the idea of being a mentor to someone. Deciding that it was better not to pursue that line of questioning while the older Jinchūriki was still riled up, he gently pressed, "Look, he's got no one else, and we need all the help we can get. At least if we train him, we know it'll get done right, even if we have to do it from the beginning. Plus, he's got our abilities. Who else is better suited to train him? Besides," he added, almost as an afterthought, "you know that you can't take on Akatsuki by yourself—"

"I still got a village," Rōshi argued, though the bite in his voice sounded like it had dulled, just a little. He placed his right hand in his pocket and appeared to squeeze something there for several seconds before grunting, "Fine, have it yer way. I'll stay."

"You will?" That worked?

"But yeh can't interfere with how I train 'im, got it?"

The brunet immediately nodded his assent, relief at his success evident in the slouching of his shoulders. "Just don't go overboard," he said before walking over to where Naruto had collapsed in apparent shellshock. Softly, as to not startle him, the Kiri-nin said the boy's name, garnering his wide-eyed attention. "Sorry about all of this. My name's Utakata; you've already met Rōshi."

"Stupid old man," the blond grumbled, his normal feistiness returning to him.

"Idiot brat."

"Yes, well…" Utakata interjected awkwardly, unsure how to break the disdain brewing between the pair, "we clearly got off on the wrong foot, but contrary to what you might believe, we're not here to hurt you. If you'd allow us, we'd like to train you to become a better shinobi."

Naruto's crystal blue eyes were suddenly alight with wild enthusiasm. He jumped to his feet in excitement. "Really?"

Utakata nodded. "Yes. We're like you, Naruto. Jinchūriki. Humans who contain the power of the Bijū," he elaborated at the blond's confused expression.

"Are yeh gonna tell 'im all our secrets?" Rōshi interjected snidely.

"He needs to trust us," the brunet replied, sparing his companion a flat look, "and since you decided to try cooking him…well, desperate times." He graced Naruto with a gentle smile. "Sorry about that. As I was saying, we're all Jinchūriki. I have the Rokubi, Rōshi has the Yonbi…" he hesitated before continuing, not sure how the boy would react to such a bombshell, then continued on, "and you contain the Kyūbi."

"But…the Yondaime killed the Kyūbi…"

Rōshi let out a cruel bark of laughter. "Hah! An' yeh believe that crap?"

The Kiri-nin shot the older male a warning look; Rōshi grunted, annoyed at the silent reprimand, but said nothing else. Utakata found himself grateful (and hopeful) that the redhead was actually obeying his silent directives. To Naruto, he gently explained, "That's merely a story that was made up to cover what really happened. The Bijū can't be killed. From what I've heard of his reputation, the Yondaime Hokage was a sealing genius. It's likely that he was able to seal the Kyūbi inside you."

"But…why me?"

The brunet hesitated again before slowly replying, "Well…we can't know any of this for sure, but Jinchūriki typically aren't chosen at random. In order to ensure their loyalty, they're normally connected in some respect to their village's Kage or leadership. According to Rōshi, you bear a strong resemblance to the Yondaime, so it's possible that you're his son—"

Naruto's expression, which had grown progressively more somber as the bubble-user's explanations dragged on, flipped back to excited with impressive alacrity. "Really?! So you weren't lyin' earlier? That's awesome!"

Utakata watched the blond with a critical eye as he considered how to proceed. He'd never met someone like Naruto, who seemed to take everything in stride and bounced back from bad news like he was elastic. It was unnerving in a way; the brunet was used to dealing with the suspicious but straight-shooting people of Kiri, and he'd even started adjusting to Rōshi's mocking skepticism (tolerance for it notwithstanding). But Naruto hadn't gone through the same type of training – being raised as a weapon – even as it seemed like he'd dealt with the typical backlash associated with being a Jinchūriki, and thus their mindsets were apparently quite different. That they'd all been raised in separate villages with varying societal and cultural outlooks probably didn't help either.

I wish I could tell if his unique persona is good for us or not.

He once again drew the younger boy's attention with a single utterance of his name. When blue eyes focused on him, he said, "You can't tell anyone about any of this. Or us."

"Eh? How come?"

He's disappointed again. He's far too transparent. "If no one's told you any of this before, there's probably a reason."

"Prob'bly not a good one," Rōshi grumbled.

Utakata continued as if he hadn't been interrupted, even if he agreed with the sentiment. "Your relationship to the Yondaime Hokage might not even be real, we don't know. But if you told people, it would raise suspicion about how you came across information you're not supposed to know. As for us…" He shot a glance at Rōshi before saying, "It's generally…frowned upon…to have contact with foreigners. Konoha wouldn't react well if anyone knew that you're talking with us." Especially Rōshi. Konoha's history with the Hidden Rock was well-documented, but given the extent (or lack thereof) of the youngest Jinchūriki's education, it was possible he wasn't aware of the tension between the two villages. If that's the case, I'm not going to be the one to tell him.

Naruto almost looked to be pouting, but then his expression soured. "Not like there's anyone to tell," he muttered, scuffing the ground with his shoe.

The Kiri-nin offered the boy a wan smile. "I know. We know. But I'm just telling you as a precaution: you can't tell anyone about us. We'll find a way to meet with you without attracting undue attention, but you'll have to do your part as well." Maybe couching it as training will help. "A good shinobi knows how to keep secrets. Do you think you can do that?" Naruto's head bobbed up and down with such vigorous enthusiasm Utakata thought he might give himself whiplash. "Good. Then we'll see you tomorrow."

"We're not gonna start now?"

"Uh, well—"

"We'll start now," Rōshi interrupted, cracking his knuckles and moving towards the younger pair.

"Rōshi—"

"Yeh said yeh'd let me do it my way." Utakata fell silent, acquiescing to the older Jinchūriki's subtle warning. "'Sides, we need ter see what we're dealin' with." He returned his attention to Naruto. "So, what can yeh do?"

Naruto glared back, but at Utakata's nod, he relaxed a fraction and put his hands in a familiar seal. "Oiroke—!"

"None o' that!" Rōshi barked. "Yeh ain't usin' that jutsu no more. Don' tell me yeh don' know nothin' else?"

The blond lowered his hands and crossed his arms, scowling at the Iwa-nin. "I can do Kawarimi and Henge, too!"

The redhead snorted. "Aye, who can't? What else?"

A flush colored Naruto's cheeks, his teeth grit together in anger. "I can also make a Bunshin! Uh, kinda…"

"How do you kind of make a Bunshin?"

"An' that's all?" Rōshi asked again, ignoring Utakata's question. "Tch, Konoha's gotten weak. Like learnin' Bunshin's gonna help yeh in a fight."

Naruto graced the redhead with a look that warred between skepticism and hope. "Really? I don't need to know how to make a Bunshin?"

"Are you not going to elaborate on how you kind of make a Bunshin?"

"Hn. Yeh'll learn how ter make a Bunshin," Rōshi asserted, "it'll jus' be a useful one. Tsuchi, prob'bly, an' he can prob'bly teach yeh Mizu," he added, jerking his thumb at Utakata, who threw his hands in the air and mumbled something about being ignored. The redhead's lips quirked, a momentary flicker of amusement at the brunet's expense.

Naruto, watching the older man with rapt attention, caught the gesture. For a second, the redhead's gruff exterior disappeared, and in that moment, he almost seemed human, more than the hatred and irritation that radiated from his body like the warmth of the sun. Maybe he's not so bad… After all, Rōshi was willing to train the blond, and he didn't even care that he couldn't perform the Clone Technique, the one thing which had held him back from becoming a Leaf shinobi in the first place.

"What're yeh lookin' at?"

The blond crossed his arms, turning his head and closing his eyes so he was no longer looking at the older man. "Nothin'," he muttered. Tch, he's still a jerk.

A closed fist striking the back of his head had him whirling on the spot, a snarl on his lips. Rōshi's narrow-eyed stare greeted him. "Respect yer elders, brat," he criticized.

"Oh yeah?!"

"Okay," Utakata interjected, stepping between the pair and placing them both at arm's length. They continued to shoot daggers at each other around the brunet's billowing kimono, and he realized that he was the tallest of the trio. I'll take whatever advantage I've got. "Like I was saying, let's call it a day for now." Rōshi snorted, but this time didn't override the teenager's suggestion. "Great. Naruto, a word?"

He hobbled out of the redhead's earshot, the blond following at a sedate pace. Golden eyes darted over to where Rōshi was standing; blue eyes followed the movement, scowling in the purple-clad man's direction as one hand came up to rub at the spot he'd been hit. "Does it hurt?"

"No," Naruto mumbled with just a tinge of embarrassment. "Just…stupid…"

The brunet placed a hand upon the younger boy's shoulder. "I know it's tough, really, I do, but you should try to get along with Rōshi. He'll be teaching you as much as I will."

Naruto crossed his arms over his chest, lips twisting into a pout as if to protest what he thought of that idea. "Why can't you just teach me?"

"I will be," the Kiri-nin assured him, "but as you may have noticed, Rōshi's quite strong. He's definitely stronger than me. If you want to learn how to be a strong shinobi, you'll need to listen to him."

There was a long moment of silence in which the blond seemed to be weighing his options before finally grumbling, "…Fine."

Utakata spared him a weak smile of gratitude, which the Leaf native tentatively returned. "Thank you." Then he turned his attention to the Iwa-nin and asked in a louder voice, "Rōshi, can you take him back?"

"Are yeh givin' me a choice?" At the Mist Jinchūriki's unchanging expression, the redhead growled and walked over. "Fine." Unbidden, he placed a heavy hand on the blond's shoulder, a too-strong grip that caused the boy to flinch. Then they sank into the ground.

Utakata stared at the spot they'd disappeared in silence. Until tomorrow, Naruto.

The journey back into Konoha proper was much less disorienting the second time around, probably because Naruto actually knew what was happening. They surfaced from the earth within a thicket of trees that the blond hoped was somewhere within the village. Rōshi immediately released him and shoved him away. "Playground's over there," he grunted, pointing in the direction of the thinning tree line. "Meet here tomorrow mornin'. Make sure yer not followed."

Naruto crossed his arms in an act of defiance and petulantly muttered, "Utakata already said not to let anyone know about you guys."

"Well I'm remindin' yeh," Rōshi snapped. "Yeh've already proven yer a stupid brat, yeh prob'bly don' listen ter what yer tol'."

The blond opened his mouth to argue, but then Utakata's words about getting along with the older man resurfaced, and he shut it before any words could escape. "I'll be careful," he promised, tone trite but sincere.

Rōshi appeared taken aback at his abrupt change in attitude, but quickly schooled his features back into the scowl that seemed a permanent fixture of his face. "Hn. We'll see." Then he disappeared back into the ground, and Naruto was once again alone.

Still, despite the solitude, the blond found his cheeks spreading into a wide grin. It no longer mattered that he'd failed out of the Academy, because Utakata had promised he and Rōshi would train him to be a shinobi. A great shinobi, like the Yondaime Hokage. My dad!

Naruto began the walk to his apartment with a new spring in his step, one fist pumping the air. I'm gonna be the next Hokage for sure, believe it!

Chapter Text

"C'mon oji-san, teach me, teach me! Pleeease?"

Rōshi glanced down at the six-year-old, a rare smile stretching his lips at the determination in her pupil-less pink eyes. It had been a long time since someone had asked for his assistance, and it had certainly never been done so politely or adorably. "Aye, fine, I'll git yeh started." It wasn't like her father could teach her, what with his lack of a dual earth/fire affinity, and her grandfather was likely too busy – or some other such bullshit – to invest the effort in her training.

Besides, after over 30 years of near-permanent isolation, it felt…nice…to be needed by someone.

"Here's how yeh do it. Doton chakra in one hand," he demonstrated, bringing up said appendage in a half-seal, "Katon in th' other"—his other hand came up to complete the seal, bringing his fingers together in a roughly triangular shape, hands held in the sign of the Bird—"an' then yeh got ter mix 'em t'gether." His cheeks bulged out briefly before a blazing stream of lava escaped his lips to splatter across the barren soil. "Jus' like that."

His young protégé tried to copy his directions, but only succeeded in expelling a small flame instead. She frowned at her teacher's amused laugh, features scrunched together in childish petulance. "Oji-san!" she whined, stomping one foot against the ground. "It didn't work!"

Rōshi patted her head; he couldn't remember the last time he'd found something to laugh at, but he was overstaying his welcome, and there wasn't too much more he could do for her until her chakra control was better developed. "Keep tryin'," he advised, "it'll come ter yeh."

"Yer plan won't work."

Utakata looked up from where he was poking the fire with a stick, pulled from his thoughts. "Hm?"

"Th' brat," Rōshi continued, knowing the blue-clad boy had heard him. "He's stupid. Namikaze was a genius, an' a terror in battle; he woulda never stooped ter usin' some stupid jutsu that turns yeh inter a naked woman in a fight. Even if they're related, th' brat—"

"Naruto."

"—didn' git his smarts. Hell, he didn' even know who Namikaze was! Yeh can't tell me that Konoha don' teach its students history, which means th' brat—"

"Naruto."

"—don' pay atten—stop correctin' me!" Rōshi snapped.

Utakata laced his fingers together and rested his chin on his hands, leveling an even stare at his companion. "He has a name. Use it."

"Why? He ain't here."

"It's the principle of the thing, Rōshi," he explained patiently. "We're trying to get him on our side, and insulting him isn't going to do that. Try to treat him like a human being—"

The Iwa-nin let out a cruel bark of laughter. "Human bein'? No Jinchūriki gits treated like a human bein'. That's th' sacrifice."

Utakata was quiet for a long moment before softly saying, "Yagura and I—"

"Are special, so yeh've said," Rōshi interrupted snidely. "But fer th' rest o' us, there ain't nothin' but war an' hardship. We learned long ago that we. Ain't. Human!"

The fire lent a glint to the redhead's dark eyes, giving them the appearance of smooth, hard stone, like black obsidian. Utakata's one visible golden iris, keen and observant, was angled up, and Rōshi realized that he'd worked himself into a literal towering rage, his 4'10" figure hovering angrily over his companion. Seating himself once more, he inhaled the smoke drifting off their campfire, finding a fraction of solace with the action; Konoha's trees were nothing like the scarce, hardy vegetation that decorated the Land of Earth's mountains, and the scent they gave off when burned was far more aromatic and soothing. Gruffly, almost as an afterthought, he added, "An' stop sayin' we're on th' same side."

"You stayed, didn't you? Actions speak louder than words."

"Pft. Yer full o' pretty lines, ain't yeh?"

"Is it too much to ask for you to not be sarcastic? What happened to you?"

A dark, humorless smirk twisted the redhead's lips. "Yeh really want ter know? Yeh want ter know what happened ter th' Tsuchikage's son?" he sneered, and Utakata started at the admission, surprised that his companion had divulged such an important piece of his history. "Aye, he'll never say so, but it's true. Yeh've heard o' th' Nidaime Tsuchikage?"

Utakata nodded. The rivalry between the Second Tsuchikage and Second Mizukage was legendary, and according to the Hidden Mist's historical records, the Hidden Rock's leader had been able to completely disguise his presence from even the best sensors. That the Nidaime Mizukage had been able to go toe-to-toe with him spoke volumes of both their skills. "'Mujin'," Rōshi grunted. "That's what people called 'im."

The Non-Person… Sounds about right.

"He was ruthless," Rōshi continued. "Willin' ter do anythin' ter make Iwa successful, includin' sealin' a Bijū inter his student's kid. We needed a weapon ter win th' upcomin' war, he said, an' I was that weapon."

"Wait, what upcoming war?"

Rōshi barked a bitter laugh. "None, not that it stopped Mū from gettin' as much power as he could. People were always weapons, but bein' a Jinchūriki, I wasn't jus' a weapon."

"You were a demon, right?" At Rōshi's raised eyebrow, Utakata added, "You're not unique in that regard." The redhead scowled at him, and the Kiri-nin managed to look abashed. "Sorry. You were saying?"

"No one wanted ter be 'round someone with a demon in 'em, so I got Ōnoki ter let me leave th' village ter train."

"So you've been by yourself for, what, 30 years?"

"40," Roshi corrected with a grunt. Surprise flitted across the brunet's features, and the Iwa-nin allowed himself an amused smirk; at this point, throwing off the Kiri-nin was almost like a game. "Aye, I don' look it, eh?"

"No."

"Don' matter none. I got a leash." Rōshi dug into his pocket and then pulled out his hand, opening it to reveal a smooth river rock, about one and a half inches in diameter. The character for 'four' was carved into its surface in neat kanji.

"How often did you go back?"

"Too often," grunted the Iwa-nin. "Yeh think they'd jus' let their weapon live in peace? When Suna's Jinchūriki attacked, who d'yeh think fought 'im? When th' Gobi attacked, who had ter stop it? When th' Second Shinobi World War was goin', who did th' Tsuchikage call ter turn th' tide, eh? Aye, I went back. Ev'ry time that old bastard needed a weapon, I was there ter fight, an' ev'ry time they got rid o' me fast as they could. Didn' want people scared o' me bein' in town, or what'd happen if I stayed too long. Like I'd explode or somethin'," he sneered.

"I'm surprised you didn't refuse," Utakata admitted. "You seem stubborn and…ornery."

"Better th' enemy yeh know than th' one yeh don'. An' I still got my pride as a shinobi. So long as I responded ter th' call, they left me alone." A pre-teen girl with pupil-less pink eyes and dark hair in a pixie cut, the last image he had of her, floated to the forefront of his mind. An' they won't find someone else ter be th' Jinchūriki.

Ōnoki had allowed his own son to become a demon to placate the priorities of a man hellbent on controlling everything he could; he'd do the same to his granddaughter if it was to the Hidden Rock's benefit.

"Seems…lonely." Not that I'm one to judge. "You said you left to train, but every time I mention that I talk with Saiken, you just laugh at me. You're telling me that after 40 years in solitude, you didn't connect with your Bijū?"

"Th' damn monkey ruined my life," snapped the redhead. "Yeh think I was gonna play nice with 'im? We had one talk. One. After that, I learned ter use his powers on my own."

To great effect, if he could take out an oinin squad led by Kushimaru.

Silence fell between the two, the older Jinchūriki staring into the fire, lost in his memories, while his counterpart digested his tale. Utakata could understand and relate to much of the Rock shinobi's story; it seemed to be the same tale of woe that was commonplace among Jinchūriki. The only difference was that the brown-haired boy had had Yagura to guide him and provide a modicum of kinship in his youth, with even his master Harusame serving as a (distant) parental figure in place of his deceased parents.

Alternatively, Rōshi's family had forsaken him, and the years of isolation had sheltered him from any additional relationships, including one with his Bijū. Products of different times, Utakata mused. "Based on what you've said…Iwa won't defend you if Akatsuki attacks, will it?" he hypothesized.

"Tch. Ōnoki's afraid o' 'em. Won't help 'im any ter fight 'em if they come fer me."

You told me you still had a village. Who were you trying to convince? "Is that why you're here? Are you afraid—?"

"I ain't afraid o' nothin'," the Iwa-nin snarled.

Utakata held up his hands to indicate he hadn't meant offense. "Sorry, I didn't mean to imply anything. I just mean…maybe you realize that we're your best chance going forward."

"What d'yeh mean 'we'? Yer hurt and th' stupid brat can't help with nothin'," Rōshi retorted. "An' don' pretend yer intentions're pure. Yer doin' this fer yer friend."

The renegade Kiri-nin frowned at his companion's sarcasm, but couldn't find the wherewithal to refute the claim. He's right. Stubborn, too. Sure of himself. And no wonder. He's lived my life three times over, and everything he's experienced has indicated he can't trust anyone. Is there a way to get through to him?

"You're right," Utakata admitted, and the older Jinchūriki's dark eyes narrowed slightly, one eyebrow arching in disbelief. "But that shouldn't be all this is about. Our lives are on the line. His, too," he added, gesturing in the general direction of Konoha. "I know you're set in your ways; I am, too. But if we're going to survive this, we're both going to have to make an effort here." A grunt was his only response, so he continued, "This isn't Iwa or Kiri, and it looks like Naruto will need all the help he can get. Can you please try to be less…I don't know, hostile? You get more flies with honey than vinegar."

"Yeh git more flies with shit."

"It's a saying that—never mind. The point is, it would be better for everyone if you could just…tone it down a little. If it helps, pretend Naruto's like the first person you trained." Whoever that is.

Rōshi remained silent, the firelight flickering within his dark eyes. Utakata heaved a sigh, wondering if the matter was a lost cause, when the Iwa-nin finally grunted, "I promise nothin'."

This time, the bubble-user'0s sigh contained more relief than weariness. I guess that's as good as I'll get for now.

Uzumaki Naruto woke up earlier than normal, his body thrumming with energy. Strangely, he'd slept sporadically through the night, the idea of receiving personalized ninja training, and his meeting with Utakata and Rōshi, keeping him in a state of excitement as the hours passed, no matter that one of his tutors was a cranky old man. At least Utakata's nice, he thought, stripping out of his pajamas and throwing on his usual orange pants and jacket.

Not like Rōshi'll treat me any worse than the villagers do for bein' a…a…

Jinchūriki… That's what Utakata had called him. Called all three of them. A power of human sacrifice.

Is that what I am? A sacrifice?

He wasn't sure what that meant, but it did seem to make sense that the one thing that made him different from others would also make other people treat him differently. That still didn't explain what about his situation – why being a Jinchūriki – made people hate him so much, but at least the cause was now apparent.

Somehow, that knowledge gave him the power to ignore the harsh glares the villagers bestowed upon him as he left his apartment and wandered through the village. Before, not knowing why he'd been hated by everyone, why he had no family, had been a primary source of his sadness and solitude. Now that he had answers – he was the Jinchūriki to the Kyūbi and his father was the Yondaime Hokage – it felt like a new version of himself had been born and was ready to lead the life he'd always wanted.

Granted, he still had questions – for instance, who was his mother, and what had happened to her? – but his new companions had sworn him to secrecy, and there was only one person who might have the answers. But the Third Hokage was smart enough to ask him where he'd learned information as sensitive as being a Jinchūriki or who his father was, and then who knew what would happen to the two foreign Jinchūriki who had promised to teach him.

Something bad, he guessed. And then his training opportunity would be gone.

But as strange as it sounded, as dangerous as it might have been for Konoha, Naruto didn't want to betray the confidence of either Jinchūriki. All his life, he'd sought someone who understood him, someone he could empathize with. At age eight, he'd tried to befriend Uchiha Sasuke, who'd been just as alone and isolated as him following the massacre of his entire clan. But both boys had been stubborn – still were, to be honest – and their mutual solitude had bred competitiveness rather than camaraderie.

Now he finally had people who understood him, friends all his own.

Well, friend, anyway. Even if Utakata seemed cool with him, Rōshi definitely didn't, though not in the same way Konoha's citizens didn't like him. The redhead's dislike didn't seem personal, not like everyone else's. He reminded Naruto a little of the priest character in the manga with the demons going out of control – grumpy and irritable, but not necessarily at anyone in particular.

"So, yeh finally made it."

Naruto jumped at the voice, the subject of his thoughts rising from the dirt before him as if summoned. Surprise fading, he thumbed his chest and proclaimed, "Of course! The future Hokage never—"

"Aye, shuddup."

Naruto scowled at the interruption, but the expression fell quickly when Rōshi placed a hand on his shoulder and dragged them both underground, cutting short his yelp of surprise.

They surfaced in the same clearing as the previous day after a short period of darkness, the redhead shoving the young boy away with a rough hand. Naruto released another small yelp as he stumbled forward, catching himself after a couple of steps. He turned and opened his mouth to say something, but Utakata's blue kimono caught his eyes, the brunet offering him a brief smile in greeting. "Good morning, Naruto."

The teenager's kindness was infectious, and Naruto found himself returning the gesture with a wider grin. "Hey Utakata! So what're ya gonna teach me?"

"How ter fight," Rōshi grunted from behind him.

Naruto couldn't repress the shiver that ran down his spine at the older man's answer. One hand gravitated towards his stomach, where the other Jinchūriki had delivered a brutal beating just yesterday. "Uhh…"

The Iwa-nin's hand fell upon his shoulder again, its weight an imposing presence. Naruto felt his whole body tremble. "Don' worry," Rōshi said in a voice that wasn't remotely reassuring, "Yeh won't fight me. Yeh'll fight 'im," he finished, jerking his thumb at Utakata.

"Eh?"

"Sorry, what?"

Rōshi shrugged carelessly, a gesture only Utakata saw with Naruto's wide blue eyes fixated on him. "Yeh said ter take it easy on 'im. His taijutsu sucks—"

"Hey!"

"—an' yeh don' seem like a big hand-ter-hand fighter…'specially now."

Utakata grimaced, but conceded that Rōshi had a surprisingly perceptive eye. While he could hold his own in a physical fight, Saiken's unique capabilities accentuating his abilities to dodge and weave, his specialty was in ninjutsu. And given that he was still using Nuibari as a crutch… "Is this really the best idea?"

Another shrug, this time accompanied by the briefest of smirks. "Dunno. Closest we got ter an even match."

Utakata's eyes narrowed. You're enjoying yourself, aren't you? Prick.

"I can't train 'im without knowin' where ter start. This's th' best way."

Golden eyes darted over to Naruto, standing between the two foreign Jinchūriki with an expression somewhere between nervous and impatient. We need him. For Yagura. He sighed before nodding. "Fine."

Rōshi clapped his hands together. "Then let's start. Fight." Naruto shot Utakata a hesitant look – afraid to attack me? the brunet wondered – and after several seconds of stillness, the Iwa-nin barked, "Now!"

Naruto rushed forward at the demand, throwing a punch at the Rokubi Jinchūriki. Utakata maneuvered himself out of the blond's way with surprising ease, using Nuibari as a fulcrum. He tapped Naruto's back with a closed fist as the boy's momentum carried him past the brunet's position, marking a point for himself.

The Konoha native bent low and tried to sweep his opponent's legs, but the Kiri-nin placed the chōtō in the way, and his foot struck metal. Naruto bounded up and attempted to land an uppercut, but Utakata shuffled backwards, raising Nuibari and whacking the boy's side with it. He yipped at the contact, rubbing at the spot with his other hand.

"Enough!" Both boys stopped and looked over to Rōshi, head buried in his hand to conceal what Utakata hoped was embarrassment (on the blond's behalf) and not irritation. "Yer form's awful," he barked. "Who taught yeh taijutsu? No, don' care," he continued when Naruto opened his mouth to respond. "Firs' lesson: take advantage o' weaknesses."

He blazed towards Utakata as the last word fell from his lips, one heavy fist slamming into the brunet's side. The Mist Jinchūriki hollered in pain, doubling over as the injury from Kushimaru flared from the blow. Rōshi brought his fists together and brought them down in a hammerblow that left the teenager splayed flat on the ground, gasping into the dirt. "Ass…hole," he wheezed, turning his face to the side to glare at the Iwa-nin. "Did…you…really—"

"Aye." Rōshi grinned, that same smug, self-satisfied smirk Utakata was getting used to seeing when the redhead was enjoying himself because he knew he'd gotten the best of someone. He turned his back on the floored teenager and told Naruto, "See? That's how yeh fight."

Blue eyes flickered between the redhead and Utakata's prone body. "Uh, is that really—"

"Aye," Rōshi stressed, a tinge of annoyance coloring his tone. "Yeh do what yeh got ter do ter win."

"But you're beatin' up someone who's hurt!"

"Jus' 'cause he's hurt don' mean he ain't dangerous. 'Specially 'cause he's a Jinchūriki. Don' drop yer guard 'round a Jinchūriki." Each word was enunciated with care, a hint of warning in every syllable.

"He's…not wrong," managed Utakata. He'd clambered to his feet during the pair's exchange, though he still appeared unsteady, hunched over with both hands clasped around Nuibari. "You have to treat every battle…like it's life or death. That's what it means…to be a shinobi."

It was one of the lessons the Hidden Mist's Academy taught, a lesson that had been taken too far in some cases. That Utakata had never been all that adept at following through at it was a story all its own, but Rōshi – who had lived through several wars – being a firm believer in that lesson wasn't all that surprising. "If I had done better, I wouldn't be in this position," he admitted. Maybe it's time to change that. He nodded imperceptibly to the Iwa-nin, a minor acknowledgement of the older man's tutelage.

While his tactics were crude and painful, they were effective.

If Rōshi noticed his companion's gratitude, he didn't mention it. Instead, he told Naruto, "Yeh need ter work on yer fightin' style."

The blond made a face, crossing his arms over his chest. "Taijutsu's boring." Quieter, he grumbled, "And no one wants to practice with me…"

Rōshi bristled. "Borin'? Taijutsu's th' bread an' butter o' fightin'. Yeh won't git anywhere with Yōton 'less yeh know taijutsu." His chakra flared with his temper, body becoming embroiled in a second skin of hot red and yellow. Both boys took an involuntary step backwards at the heat exuding off the older Jinchūriki. "Try an' attack."

Naruto visibly hesitated before shaking his head. Utakata felt an iota of respect for the blond's increased situational awareness. "I think he gets the point."

The Iwa-nin released his jutsu. "Yeh can't hit what yeh can't touch."

Naruto appeared to be almost vibrating in place, hesitation forgotten, excitement radiating off his form. "So when can I learn that?"

"Taijutsu firs'," Rōshi grunted.

"Awww. Lame!"

"Ninjutsu's harder to learn than taijutsu," Utakata placated. At the blond's dispirited expression, he offered the boy a small smile and added, "Don't worry, we're here to practice taijutsu with you."

Naruto returned the gesture, a grateful orphan finding a helping hand in the dark. For a moment, Utakata saw himself in the blond, the lonely Jinchūriki shunned by the village he served. He wondered if Rōshi understood what that was like; decades of isolation had likely dulled the redhead's tether to humanity enough that Naruto's quest for companionship didn't make sense to him.

But Utakata was still young, still afflicted by a village who had looked at him every day and seen a monster, a nightmare from the past, and the blond's scenario was just a slightly distorted reflection of that.

Rōshi's bark of "Stand straight!" tore the brunet from his reverie. Naruto's form stiffened automatically, arms clapped against his sides. Utakata coughed to hide his amusement at the boy's reaction, watching as the redhead approached from behind and placed his hands on the blond's arms, maneuvering his limbs to different positions. "Put yer arms like this. Legs apar'."

Naruto's brow furrowed in concentration as the lava-user barked commands at him, correcting the way he held himself. The personal attention was beyond strange, it was…unfamiliar. New. There wasn't any sort of affection behind it, but he wasn't super surprised given Rōshi's gruff persona. Utakata was genial enough to make up for it, even if he was currently taking a more hands-off approach.

It's only the first day.

"Stop dreamin'!"

"Ow!" He rubbed the back of his head, massaging the spot Rōshi had clocked.

"Git over it," the Iwa-nin grunted. A mound of earth rose from the ground in front of them and shaped itself into the redhead's likeness. "Set up like I tol' yeh. Now, follow my lead."

He stepped forward with his left foot, driving his right fist into his clone's chest. Hunching slightly, he brought his other foot forward in a giant step, lowering his shoulder and extending his left arm. A backwards spin completed the motion, left fist coming around in a powerful strike to his doppelganger's neck. The earth clone flew to the side, smashing against a tree and breaking into clods of dirt.

The entire kata took less than two seconds.

Rōshi turned around, gracing Naruto with an annoyed look. "Yeh didn' move."

"That was awesome."

"Simple's what it was." A second earth clone rose from the ground before the blond. "Yer turn."

Naruto took a deep breath and set himself up as Rōshi had shown him. He stepped into the kata, thrusting his fist forward in a punch. Clone-Rōshi didn't budge, and the blond's next move carried him too far inside the duplicate's guard, his follow-up punch losing some of its strength. Grappling for victory, his improvised spin-kick ended with one knee caught between the redhead's bicep and side, and he tugged fruitlessly to try to free himself.

Clone-Rōshi yanked on his leg to draw him closer, grabbed him around the torso, bent over backwards, and slammed him into the ground behind him.

Amid his coughing and groaning, Naruto could still hear Rōshi snort, "Tch, pathetic. Yer too weak."

Anger coursed through the blond's veins, spurring him back to his feet. "Am not!"

As if to prove his point, he charged the real redhead, sliding through the same motions he'd been taught. Rōshi sidestepped the first punch, catching the boy's left wrist and wrenching it behind his back in one smooth move. Naruto released a yell of pain that was aborted as the Iwa-nin leaned his weight into the hold, pushing him to the earth. "Yeh ain't provin' me wrong 'bout yer smarts."

Naruto's nostrils flared, angry exhales causing puffs of dust to float into the air. His mouth stayed closed, taking care not to ingest any dirt. Rrr, stupid old man…

The older Jinchūriki's weight disappeared, and Naruto raised himself to his feet, wary of another attack. Rōshi did nothing but stand back and watch, arms crossed over his chest, dark eyes hard and unreadable. Naruto growled in his direction. "I'm not stupid! I'm gonna be the Hokage someday!"

"Aye, an' I'm a daimyō."

He growled again, fists clenched at his sides; the redhead's constant mocking, impersonal as it seemed, was getting tiresome. One foot was already posed to move in his direction and show him what-for when Utakata's voice stopped him. "Naruto, we're not doubting you—"

Rōshi snorted.

"—or rather your commitment to becoming Hokage," the brunet corrected, "but you understand that it's a long, hard journey, don't you? Just saying that you'll become the Hokage doesn't make it true, and your current abilities leave a lot to be desired."

"But—!"

"But," he continued over the blond's protest, "it's not impossible." Utakata saw Rōshi roll his eyes, though Naruto, attention on the Kiri-nin, missed the gesture. "I have a friend, Yagura. He's a Jinchūriki, too, and he's the Mizukage." The brunet allowed himself a smile at the younger boy's wide blue eyes, admiration glistening nakedly in them. "Yagura practiced hard and did everything he could to make himself worthy of being Mizukage. If you do the same, maybe you really will become the Hokage."

A determined look overtook the boy's features. "Yeah, okay!"

"So, yer ready ter go again, eh?"

Naruto turned to face the redhead – or his stone-faced doppelganger – and took several seconds of care to adjust the way he held his limbs in the ready position before charging. Like before, the attack didn't appear to affect the earth clone, and the blond found himself the victim of a counterattack that left him eating dirt once more. "Again!" Rōshi barked, and the youngest Jinchūriki rose to his feet, squared himself, and attacked.

After the third time Naruto met the ground, Rōshi no longer had to issue commands to get up and try again; beaten repeatedly, the blond was bouncing back quicker with each successive fall, jaw set and hands clenched into fists. Rōshi moved to stand beside Utakata, occasionally ordering slight adjustments to the boy's positioning. There was silence between the older pair for a long time, both watching the youngest Jinchūriki, until Utakata finally asked, "Do you really need to beat him up like this? We're trying to endear him to us."

"Yer th' one tryin' ter make 'im like yeh. That's th' whole point o' yer story, right? Tell 'im a Jinchūriki can be a Kage. I'm tryin' ter see if he's worth it."

Utakata cast him a curious side-eye. "And?"

Rōshi didn't respond, and the brunet resisted the urge to grin. That the taciturn redhead was unwilling to voice – or even gesture – a reply was telling.

Utakata sat on the ground and quietly watched as the hours passed. Naruto collected dirt and scrapes like they were worth their weight in gold, but even as Rōshi and his duplicate worked the boy ragged, tutoring him in different combinations, he bounced back with just as much vigor as before. He never managed to destroy the earth clone, but he also no longer seemed deterred or angry by his lack of progress.

It's kind of…admirable.

Somehow, by using the promise of the Hokage title, he'd given Naruto a reason to bear Rōshi's rough tutelage and improve himself. Where he'd previously shown himself to be untrained and…blusterous, the brunet supposed, he now appeared to be taking the lessons the two Jinchūriki were offering to heart. It would take time to actually grow into the skills they were teaching, but having the seeds take root was a good step forward.

And now, as the day dragged on, Rōshi seemed just a tad less surly, as if the sharp edges to his personality were eroding. Utakata didn't know what had triggered the change – perhaps finding someone just as stubborn as him had worn him down – but he was reluctant to look a gift horse in the mouth, especially with how often he'd been bit thus far.

Maybe I should take advantage of this, he mused. Taijutsu had never been a particularly strong skill of his, a fact that would be known by the Mist shinobi who were chasing him. Surprising them (and/or Akatsuki) with something different might be able to shift the tide of battle.

Besides, Rōshi's lava armor didn't seem all that different from Saiken's 'gift'. He'd used the acidic properties of the slug's chakra to dissolve plenty of things in the past; why not utilize it to augment his offense? He'd just have to practice hand-to-hand without his own secondary chakra layer active, maybe even strengthen the Rokubi's 'gift' by lowering the pH even further…

Utakata shivered at the idea, the prospect both frightening and exhilarating.

"Alrigh'," Rōshi drawled, "let's see what yeh've learned."

The brunet started as he realized his companion had approached Naruto, taking the place of the crumbling earth clone. Rōshi took a defensive stance before the beaten blond. "Well?" he grunted. "C'mon."

Whatever momentary hesitancy had gripped Naruto fell away at the invitation, the boy sliding through the different katas he'd been shown. Rōshi dodged or blocked each strike, but never retaliated, instead moving with each of Naruto's motions and allowing the blond to transition between combinations.

His movements are better, Utakata observed. He's exhausted, but even still, it's better than whatever form he was trying initially.

Rōshi kneeled and caught the kick aimed at his knee with both hands, holding Naruto's foot long enough that the blond's face twisted with the trepidation of meeting earth once more. After several long seconds, he simply let go, and Naruto stumbled backwards a pace, surprised to still be standing. "Yeh can rest," Rōshi grunted. "I ain't gonna attack."

Naruto let out a long breath and collapsed to the ground, limbs splayed outward. "Phew…"

Utakata's eyes followed Rōshi as he stalked over. When he was within earshot, the Kiri-nin whispered, "You went easy on him that time."

"…He worked hard," Rōshi offered gruffly.

To the brunet, it sounded like an excuse to justify his magnanimity. "Thanks."

"Hn."

Utakata stuck Nuibari in the ground and used it to leverage himself up, rising with a groan. He walked over to Naruto's prone form and leaned over it. "Tired?"

Blue eyes opened wide, and the blond curled himself into a sitting position. "No way. I'm ready for more!"

Utakata's lips quirked into a small smile; the Kyūbi Jinchūriki reminded him a little of when he'd been young, full of pep and vigor, before the gloom of Kiri had taken root. His stamina's impressive, too. "How about something a little less strenuous?"

"Like what?"

"Maybe you'd like to learn ninjutsu?"

Naruto immediately leaped to his feet, excitement gleaming in his eyes. "Really?" He pumped one arm in the air. "Yes!"

Utakata chuckled at the boy's enthusiasm before growing thoughtful. "I suppose the best place to start would be with the element you're most attuned to. Do you know what that is?"

"Eh? What're you talkin' about?"

"Yeh've got ter be kiddin'—!"

Utakata turned his head to shoot Rōshi a withering look, and the redhead's outrage (thankfully) faded into grumbling. He returned his attention to Naruto, scrutinizing the blond's confused visage. I wonder if he even has a primary element, since he can use whatever the Bijū can use. That's at least Doton, Katon, and Suiton… Well, since he's a blank slate, maybe it won't matter? "Well, most ninjutsu is elemental; that is, it uses an element of the natural world, such as water or wind, as a base. There's also ninjutsu based on manipulating the shape of your chakra…but maybe that's a lesson for another time," he decided as Naruto's features continued to scrunch in confusion.

Using the tip of the Sewing Needle, Utakata began etching kanji into the dirt as he continued, "There are five main elements: earth, water, fire, wind, and lightning. These form the basis of elemental ninjutsu: Doton, Suiton, Katon, Fūton, and Raiton." He finished his etching, pointing at the arrows linking the circle of elements. "Each element is strong and weak against another. Suiton, for instance, is strong against Katon, but weak against Doton. …Perhaps a demonstration would help," he added upon noticing the blond's waning attention. "Rōshi, can you…? Thanks."

His hands flipped through seals, and he inhaled as chakra built in his mouth. "Suiton: Mizurappa!"

Rōshi clapped his hands together before placing them on the ground. "Doton: Doryūheki."

The Earth-Style Wall that rose from the dirt soaked up Utakata's attack. The brunet turned to address a visibly more attentive blond. "See? So Rōshi used Doton to beat my Suiton—"

"Katon: Gōkakyū no Jutsu."

"—and—Suiton: Mizurappa!"

The Wild Water Wave that Utakata spat out overwhelmed the incoming Great Fireball, a cloud of steam permeating the area. When it cleared, the Kiri-nin shot the older shinobi an annoyed glare. "Really? Was that necessary?"

Rōshi shrugged. "Didn' yeh want ter show 'im th' other side?"

"Yes, but when I was ready, not as an ambush!"

"A shinobi should be ready fer anythin'."

There was that smug half-smirk again. Prick!

"Awesome! So when can I do that?!"

Utakata fidgeted. "There's…no way of knowing," he said, voice gentle. "Training one elemental affinity could take months, maybe even years. To learn more than one, or even a dual-element like Yōton? I'm not sure."

As he spoke, some of the previous dread he recognized from the effort of his undertaking started to creep back. The idea of training Naruto from scratch had seemed reasonable in theory, but vocalizing the effort, even with him being a Jinchūriki, made it seem impossible. He chewed on his lower lip, suddenly questioning whether this idea was as feasible as he'd originally thought.

"What's a dual-element?"

"Combo," Rōshi grunted. He held out his hands, palms-up, a kernel of fire forming in one hand, a ball of mud in the other. Then he clapped them together and pulled them apart, revealing a sphere of molten red-yellow lava. For a moment, Utakata thought he was going to pitch the orb into the empty forest, but then the redhead seemed to reconsider, allowing the chakra in his palm to dissipate.

Blue eyes shifted expectantly between the Yonbi and Rokubi Jinchūriki. When neither made any move to continue their training, Naruto asked, "So when do we start?"

Utakata turned his attention to the blond, conveniently avoiding Rōshi's pointed look. "I thought I could teach you Suiton, but it's easier to learn with a natural source—"

"Easy?" Rōshi interjected. "Tch, life ain't easy. Either yeh can do it with no source, or yeh can't do it at all."

"Rōshi—"

"Watch." The redhead formed hand seals, slowly – patronizingly, Utakata thought, so Naruto could see each one – and then exhaled a third Great Fireball. "Yer turn."

Naruto's fingers twisted through the appropriate seals before he exhaled nothing but air. Rōshi let out a loud "Ha!" and the blond scowled in displeasure. "Try building your chakra in your stomach," Utakata suggested. "That's how Suiton works, anyway."

The blond made another attempt, to similar effect. Utakata couldn't tell if he'd actually taken his suggestion to heart, let alone understood it.

"Yeh can always say th' name. Helps beginners."

Naruto grit his teeth, flipped through the seals again, and shouted, "Katon: Gōkakyū no Jutsu!"

Rōshi's snicker was masked by a cough when Utakata shot him a warning glare. "You shouldn't expect immediate results," he placated.

"Tch, even a kid can cough smoke."

"Rōshi!" Utakata hissed.

"Coddlin' don' work," muttered the redhead as Naruto continued to flip through seals and try to exhale a Great Fireball. "Yeh got ter push 'im."

"Katon: Gōkakyū no Jutsu!"

"This isn't taijutsu," Utakata argued. "You can't just expect him to pick up ninjutsu like it's the same thing! We're not trying to break him."

"Katon: Gōkakyū no Jutsu!"

"Speak fer yerself. Konoha's trainin's made 'im stupid. He'll bend or break. Again!" Rōshi barked.

"Did you learn elemental ninjutsu in a day? It takes time, Rōshi!"

"Katon: Gōkakyū no Jutsu!"

"I learned ter fight in war. Yeh learn fast or yeh die."

"We're not in a war!"

"We're always at war," Rōshi asserted with obstinate authority. He shot the brunet a narrow-eyed side glance. "What d'yeh call yer fight with Akatsuki, eh?"

The Kiri-nin stood, thunderstruck, as the older Jinchūriki's words settled over him. Given his asocial tendencies, he hadn't considered the lack of external conflicts indicative of any overarching world issues, especially since the Hidden Mist's problems were more internal. That Rōshi, a hermit far removed from society's normal drudgery, had an opposing perspective – a world in continuous conflict – was contrarily expected and unexpected.

I guess it makes sense, he realized. After all, the Hidden Villages were in constant conflict just by taking missions that resulted in small skirmishes between opposing sides. Whatever peace existed among the villages was farcical, tentative at best. Rōshi would certainly have more experience with the triggers (and fallouts) of war than he did.

"Yer not focusin'! Mold yer chakra in yer stomach an' then breathe out."

"I'm trying! It's not working!"

"Try harder!"

"Katon: Gōkakyū no Jutsu!"

Despite his apparent effort, no flames escaped Naruto's lips, though his face was flushed red with frustration. Utakata stepped forward as the blond placed his hands on his knees and huffed. "Naruto, you shouldn't wear yourself out—"

"Pft, is that all yeh've got? Yer pathetic."

"Shut up!" Naruto shouted. "I'll show you! KATON: GŌKAKYŪ NO JUTSU!"

A small lick of flame emerged from his mouth, aimed at the redhead; Rōshi flicked it aside with a careless bat of his hand, where it settled into the earth at Utakata's feet and promptly burned out. Naruto's blue eyes were wide with surprise, and for a moment, the Iwa-nin saw the excited visage of his niece's pink eyes and agape mouth where the blond stood. He watched the younger Jinchūriki, scrutinizing him as he slowly recovered from his successful endeavor, before turning and striding towards Utakata.

He caught the brunet's golden eyes, nearly as wide as the blond's, before the Kiri-nin managed to school his features. "He did it…"

"Aye. Katon's easy ter do when yer angry."

"Did…did you plan that?"

Rōshi smirked at his companion's disbelief. "I tol' yeh not ter coddle 'im. Suiton's too gentle, yeh got ter start with what he knows. He's easy ter piss off an' stubborn as a rock. Katon an' Doton'll be easy."

"Unbelievable," Utakata muttered. "To think you know what you're doing. You could've just told me."

"Yeh shoulda been smart enough ter know."

…Fair enough. "Does this mean you're staying?"

Rōshi paused mid-step, the brunet's golden eyes fixed on his back. "Ain't got nothin' better ter do."

Naruto was happy as he walked back to his apartment that night. At least, the smile on his face and bounce in his step made it appear that way in the crystal ball displaying his image.

"Hmm…"

"Hokage-sama?"

Sarutobi Hiruzen, Sandaime Hokage of the Hidden Leaf, looked up. An ANBU operative wearing a porcelain mask with stylized markings designed to emulate a cat stood before him, hands clasped behind his back. "May I see your Bingo Book?"

"Here you go, Hokage-sama."

The image in the crystal ball changed to show two figures – a redhead clad in loose purple and a brunet in a blue kimono – seated around a small fire. "I know of Yōton no Rōshi," said Hiruzen as he rifled through the book set on his desk. "But this boy doesn't dress as if he's from Iwagakure. Ah, here we go. Utakata from Kirigakure. A reward of 50,000 ryō for his live capture and return."

"That is quite the sizable bounty, Hokage-sama. He would likely not be easy to subdue."

"Yes, quite true, Neko. However, there is no need to worry at this time."

"Hokage-sama?"

It was to the man's credit that the incredulity in his tone was only perceptible due to years of experience. "Tell me, Neko, can you imagine a scenario in which a Jinchūriki from Iwa and a Jōnin nukenin from Kiri would work together?"

There was a long period of silence in which the ANBU operative considered the query. "If the Kiri Jōnin's nukenin status is a ruse, it could be a smokescreen to hide an alliance between Kiri and Iwa. Neither are officially Konoha's ally, it could be a preemptive move to take out the Jinchūriki and leave Konoha open to assault."

"I have known Ōnoki for a very long time, and he is not that subtle. I don't know much about the Mizukage, but Kirigakure's leadership has been focused more on internal conflict than external. So while your hypothesis is possible, it does seem quite remote."

The ANBU shook his head. "I defer to your judgment, Hokage-sama. If you say that scenario is unlikely, no other situation comes to mind that would explain their companionship."

"No, me neither, especially if you consider the, hm, delegates, let's say, that would theoretically be forging said alliance. By all appearances, this coalition is a thing of circumstance."

"Even considering their target?" Neko posed. "Surely it can't be coincidence that one Jinchūriki is targeting another."

Hiruzen stroked his grey goatee. "Very true. But perhaps where our system has failed young Naruto-kun, this personal tutelage may help him find his way."

"Hokage-sama, if I may speak freely?" At the elderly man's nod, the ANBU continued, "While it may be considered…fortuitous…that Naruto will be trained in a capacity that benefits Konoha, the company he is with is not ideal. While an alliance between Iwa and Kiri may be unlikely, we have little guarantee that they will not influence Naruto in unforeseen ways."

"Ah, you underestimate young Naruto-kun's adherence to the Will of Fire. It's not an unreasonable theory, though." Hiruzen then smiled. "That is why I am tasking you with providing oversight of this…unusual union. If you determine that things are getting too precarious, you have full authority to interfere and restrain the foreign threats."

"As you wish, Hokage-sama. Are there any specific parameters I should use to determine when action is appropriate?"

"I leave that to your discretion, Neko. Your judgment is sound."

"Understood."

"Then you are dismissed."

Chapter Text

He inhaled deep through his nose, letting cool air fill his lungs. Then he blew out with a lengthy exhale, the beginnings of a bubble forming at the end of his bamboo blower. When it finally detached from the blower, a sea turtle appeared, flippers moving like the air was water.

"Ooo, that's really good."

Utakata glanced to the side, gracing Yagura with a small grin. "Yeah? I've been practicing."

"I can tell."

There was a gleam of excitement in the younger boy's normally dull eyes, a rare glimpse at the eight-year-old finally able to act his age. It reminded Utakata that, however bad he thought he had it at the bubble-user compound, the grey-haired Jinchūriki had it worse, a childhood stolen from him by the Hidden Mist's meddling politicians.

Yagura didn't deserve that. No Jinchūriki did.

"Watch this one."

He breathed in again, deeper, crafting an image in his mind of the form his next creation would take. When he exhaled this time, the bubble that formed was more oblong than round. Fins formed along its side and back, and as it exited the blower, the dolphin flapped its tail, shooting for the sky. Utakata allowed himself to recline from his seated position and laced his fingers behind his head as his creation swam in the open sky.

"It looks happy," Yagura observed quietly.

Utakata nodded. "I wish I could be so free."

He could see the younger Jinchūriki shift beside him, bringing his hooked staff up and muttering, "Suiton: Mizukagami no Jutsu." A flat, oval-shaped mass of water appeared before them, a second bubble dolphin reflected on its surface; with a vertical flip of the watery mirror, the dolphin emerged, moving upwards to frolic with the one the brunet had created. "Me, too, Utakata-nii."

Utakata turned to look at his friend, surprised at the familial address. But Yagura's pink eyes were wistfully fixed on the pair of dolphins, a lost hope in his expression, and the brunet let his question die on his tongue. I'll protect you, he decided, no matter what it takes.

As a fellow Jinchūriki – more importantly, as Yagura's older brother – it was the least he could do. Maybe we'll both be free one day.

It took a tremendous amount of effort for Naruto to get out of bed the next day. 'Dragged' was the most appropriate word after he woke with a long groan, body one great ache. Between the anger and adrenaline that had built during the previous day's session, he hadn't felt much of the aftereffects of Rōshi's training at the time, but now, with a night of sleep under his belt, he definitely felt them.

On his feet, he stretched his arms to the ceiling, his back bowing with the motion, muscles weighted with exhaustion. Through the aching, though, Naruto felt good. Accomplished. He'd brawled with plenty of people in class – Sasuke, Kiba, even Chōji to a lesser extent – and he'd been beaten more times than not, but none of those fights had ever taught him anything. Iruka had been a stickler for theory over practicality, and since the blond had never grasped the theory, he'd never really advanced to learning anything of substance.

Rōshi was the exact opposite, and Naruto found that he liked the older man's teaching style better than the Academy's, shitty personality notwithstanding.

Ah! Pain, pain! Ohh…

He melted into a seated position on his bed as a knot in his back worked itself out. Maybe we won't fight today…

The journey to the forest was a trudge, though he was forced to admit the walk helped relieve some of the weight in his legs. Moving was bittersweet, in a way, though he chose to see the effort as evidence of a good workout rather than anything negative.

When he finally arrived at their designated meeting place, Rōshi was leaning against a tree with eyes closed. Naruto looked around nervously, wary of being alone with the redhead, especially in his current condition. "Uh…"

"Follow me."

The blond obeyed, wandering after the Iwa-nin through the trees. After a long trek – made even longer by the silence between the pair – the sound of running water made its way to his ears, and the foliage thinned enough to reveal a river, at least 20 feet wide by his guess. Utakata was reclining against the bank of the far shore, golden eyes closed in peace. Rōshi cleared his throat loud enough to get the brunet's attention and announced, "I got 'im."

Utakata waved a lazy arm, not even bothering to open his eyes. "Come on in, Naruto," he called. "Water's fine."

Naruto glanced at Rōshi, hesitation written across his features, but only received a grunt and an eyeroll in response. Finding no help there – not that he'd expected it – he approached the bank and dipped in a toe, immediately jumping backwards with a yelp. "It's freezing!"

"Tough shit. Git in."

Naruto shot the redhead a sour look. "You get in!"

"I ain't th' one learnin' Suiton," grunted the Iwa-nin. He marched forward and grabbed the blond by his collar, divesting him of his orange jacket with a rough tug. "Hope yeh can swim," he muttered, using his foot to shove the startled boy into the water.

The blond landed with a splash, shrieking as the icy temperature seeped through his remaining clothes and froze his body. He went rigid with shock, the pull of the river carrying him along momentarily before a strong hand latched around his wrist. Naruto felt himself pulled up, spluttering as he broke the surface. "I've got you," came Utakata's voice.

Naruto wrapped his arms around himself, teeth chattering. Blue eyes raked over the teenager beside him. The Kiri-nin was clad only in his boxers, water dripping from the tips of his lank hair and following the contours of his lean body. Several scars were scattered around his torso and over his shoulders, in areas normally hidden by his kimono. Naruto was about to ask what had happened to him when the older Jinchūriki beat him to the punch, asking, "Are you okay?"

"Y-yeah, f-f-fine."

Utakata arched an eyebrow. "Are you cold?"

"A-aren't you?"

Utakata laughed at the question, and for a moment, Naruto forgot about his situation. In the few days he'd known the brunet, Utakata had been gentle, calm, nervous, mad, even scared, but he'd never expressed open amusement. It made the teenager appear younger than the adult he portrayed himself as, more relatable, and the blond found himself smiling despite everything. "Sorry," Utakata finally managed. "In Kiri, everyone learns to swim from an early age, and we adjust pretty quickly to different water temperatures. I guess I just forgot myself for a moment." He smiled apologetically at the younger boy. "You should consider removing your clothes, though. The best way to learn about water is to be fully immersed."

Reluctantly, Naruto complied with the brunet's suggestion, shucking shoes, pants, and mesh shirt at Rōshi's feet. When he was finished, he stood only in his boxers, shivering, arms hugging himself, and waited for the brunet's next set of instructions.

Utakata still looked amused, though he managed to hold in his laughter. "You can relax. We're not doing anything strenuous today. I figured your body could use something a bit easier after yesterday."

Naruto had to admit that the water had a soothing effect on his sore body, though he couldn't tell whether that was because it felt good or because he was simply numb. He sank in up to his neck, and Utakata suggested, "Try moving around some, it'll help you warm up."

The blond obeyed slowly, spreading his limbs and taking careful steps through the water. Konoha wasn't really known for its water sources, and Naruto's swimming abilities were limited at best. Utakata's voice was soothing as he spoke, riding the flow of the river. "Learning Suiton is about learning how water flows. You're going to struggle if you try to go against it. Try swimming upstream."

Naruto stopped standing and tried to paddle against the current. Panic began to settle in as Utakata's form shrank, the river carrying him further away. He flailed helplessly, unable to properly ground himself on the riverbed, and something latched around his raised wrist. Slowly, he was dragged back to where Utakata was, the older boy pulling him forward with a whip of water. "Try standing now." He rose to his feet, the Kiri-nin's body providing a blockade against the river's flow, and the teenager asked, "Not easy, right?"

"Uh-uh. You can use Suiton like that?"

Utakata nodded. "With practice, you can, too. But you have to start from the beginning and learn the basics. That applies to everything, not just Suiton."

Naruto remembered the older boy saying something similar the day before, and the predictable whine of impatience that he'd vocalized in response. This time, he just nodded.

The brunet offered him a gentle smile in return. "Good. And how do you feel?"

"I'm good," Naruto answered, and he realized that the statement was surprisingly true. The water was no longer freezing, and while still cold, it was refreshing. His body felt loose and ready for whatever came next, despite the shape he'd woken up in. "Real good. Are you gonna teach me Suiton now?"

"The basics," admitted the Kiri-nin. "This will be…different, let's say, than how Rōshi will be training you."

"Mebbe yeh can teach 'im ter swim while yer at it."

Golden eyes darted over to the Iwa-nin's position on the bank before returning their attention to Naruto. "That's on the list, too," he told the blond. "But one step at a time. At their core, each type of elemental ninjutsu comes from the same basic principles, so anything I teach you should also transfer over to what Rōshi teaches you about Yōton and its individual components, Katon and Doton."

Naruto's brow was furrowed again. Utakata couldn't tell if the expression was confusion or concentration. "'Kay."

"You know the twelve hand signs?" When the blond nodded, he prompted, "Show me." Naruto flipped through them, and the brunet gave a thoughtful hum at the end. "You'll need to work on getting faster. Knowing how to transition between them quickly may save your life in battle." At the younger boy's disheartened expression, Utakata assured him, "We won't focus on that now; you can practice that on your own. For now, we'll work on Suiton. You remember how you felt yesterday using Katon?"

Naruto spared a glance at Rōshi. "I was really mad."

"This time you need to stay calm. If anger helps you control fire, serenity will do the same for water. You may find yourself getting frustrated if nothing happens, but try not to think about it. Push it aside. Progress takes time, you'll learn eventually."

"Aww… Okay…"

"Copy me," Utakata instructed. He raised a hand to chest height and held it palm-up. Water from the river rose up in small rivulets and coalesced into a sphere-shaped mass in his palm. He demonstrated to a wide-eyed Naruto how to use chakra to manipulate the liquid's shape, first creating a cylinder, then a pyramid, and finally something resembling a sea urchin. After allowing it to return to a sphere, he said, "Now you try. Feel your chakra flow into the river and then call it to your hand. And remember, even if nothing happens, don't get mad. Just stay calm."

As Naruto set himself up to duplicate the brunet's efforts, Utakata continued lecturing, "Much of Suiton ninjutsu is about using your chakra to change the shape of existing water. Its malleability is where Suiton gets its strength from."

Naruto looked up from the task at hand, the concerted crease in his brow smoothing out with curiosity. "But you were able to spit it yesterday."

The Kiri-nin nodded. "Yes, you can also use Suiton by changing the nature of your chakra, similar to how Rōshi uses Katon or Yōton, but it's more difficult. Remember what we learned about the flow of water? It's better to start from the simplest point and move on from there. So we'll work on shape manipulation first."

"Okay."

"Good. Then keep trying."

"Again!" Rōshi barked.

Naruto took a deep breath in through his nose and attempted to drown out the irritation building in his blood. He released a yelp when the redhead slapped him upside the head. "None o' that," the Iwa-nin grunted. "This ain't Suiton. Yeh gotta git angry if yer gonna learn Katon."

"It's really hard to switch between them," Naruto complained.

"Tough shit. Learn ter do it."

Naruto grumbled under his breath, but closed his eyes and stopped trying to calm himself, allowing the seething fire of annoyance to burn under his skin. Rōshi continued to talk, his gruff, rural cadence only adding to the blond's frustration. "Think o' how Konoha treated yeh. Think o' th' life yeh lost 'cause yer a Jinchūriki. Yeh can even think o' how much yeh hate me—"

"Easy enough," Naruto muttered.

"—so long as yeh git mad."

"Rrr, shut up! I get it!"

"Watch yer tone!"

Naruto could feel the heat crawling beneath his skin like a colony of ants. Rōshi's condescension was a palpable presence, weighing him down and shadowing him in a cloud of anger. His whole body felt warm, a stark contrast to the river water that had chilled him the day before.

"Yeh feel yer chakra now, don'cha?"

"Yeah."

"Any good shinobi should be able ter draw on it whenever."

Naruto scowled at the redhead, his chakra flaring at the jab. The anger felt good, in a backwards sort of way that wasn't entirely unfamiliar. It reminded him of how he felt when he got overlooked by the villagers, or suffered their hatred unprompted, and his outlets had been pranks and loneliness. But maybe those had just been disguises, or distractions, for the hurt and outrage at being treated unfairly. And now Rōshi was giving him an outlet to use that anger in a positive way.

"Breathe," Rōshi said, and even through the cloud of anger, the Iwa-nin's voice didn't sound as gruff as it usually did. "Channel yer chakra ter yer chest an' focus on yer anger. Let it build an' just breathe."

The blond followed his instructions, forming the chakra into a ball in his chest and suffusing it with the anger bubbling beneath his skin. A kernel of warmth formed within and then spread from his core, making him feel like his whole body was awash in tempered fire. He inhaled, and the internal flames rolled with the movement, building stronger in his chest.

"Out," Rōshi said, biting cynicism absent, his commands stern but uncharacteristically mild. Naruto obeyed without thinking, too wrapped up in the trance-like atmosphere to question anything. "Fire needs air. Yeh breathe in, an' yeh build yer power. Breathe out, an' yeh release it. Yeh remember th' seals?"

"Mm."

"When yeh breathe in, form 'em. Picture th' jutsu in yer mind. Then breathe out, an' let it go, aye?"

"Mm hm."

"Open yer eyes, stupid!" barked the redhead. "Yeh got ter see what yer doin' so yeh know how ter fix it. This ain't meditation."

Blue eyes opened and glared daggers at the old man, and Naruto inhaled with the flash of anger, feeling his chakra roil in his chest and form into a fiery ball as his hands flashed through seals. Then he exhaled, the name of the technique echoing in his mind – Katon: Gōkakyū no Jutsu! – and a fireball the size of his fist shot out from between his lips. Rōshi caught the flaming projectile before it could ignite the surrounding foliage and crushed it in his hand, but Naruto was too busy marveling at his achievement to pay the Iwa-nin any heed. I did it…on my first try! That was way easier than last time. His gaze focused on the redhead. He really knows what he's talkin' about… "Hey, do I always have to be mad to do this?"

"'Til yeh git a hang o' it, prob'bly. What's that grin fer, eh? Yeh still got a long way ter go."

"Heh, we'll see!" You're not so bad after all, oji-san.

"Mmm…"

It was peaceful in the Land of Fire. Utakata hadn't realized how harried his life had always felt in Kiri until he and Rōshi had settled themselves into a semi-permanent campsite and started the arduous task of training Naruto. Where before he'd felt simultaneously caged and exiled, now he was surrounded by nature's open tranquility and a deep calm.

"Ahhhh!"

Sploosh!

The brunet sighed. No wonder Rōshi liked living alone. Golden eyes opened to find Naruto struggling to his feet against the river's current, waterlogged blond locks hindering his vision. "Need help?"

"Don' yeh dare think o' it." Utakata craned his neck to find Rōshi standing just behind where he was relaxing against the riverbank. "I tol' yeh not ter baby 'im. Yeh've been teachin' 'im fer weeks, it's time ter sink or swim."

"We need him alive, Rōshi."

"It ain't deep. 'Sides, he learns better like this."

Utakata rolled his eyes and returned his attention to the younger Jinchūriki, silently preparing his chakra in case his intervention was required. By this point, Rōshi's unorthodox opinions on teaching weren't anything new, and protesting the older man's strange (albeit effective) methodologies hadn't done anything so far. That Naruto hadn't died yet spoke well of the boy's resiliency in the face of such overwhelming odds.

"Take this!"

"No, wait—!"

Utakata's protest faltered as the water Naruto was trying to splash at Rōshi fell short and instead hit him in the face. He sputtered out the liquid he hadn't closed his mouth in time to avoid, raising an eyebrow at the sheepish blond. Behind him, Rōshi snorted. "Was that s'pposed ter be some kinda jutsu?"

Naruto's lips pressed together in a pout, arms crossed over his chest. "No. Don't you know how to have fun?"

"Oh, fun, eh? Is that what yeh think this is?"

"Uh, well—"

"Bein' a shinobi's 'bout life an' death," Rōshi asserted. Utakata felt the redhead's sandal nudge the back of his head. "Fight me ter kill me."

The Kiri-nin frowned. "I'd rather not—"

"I don' care what yeh want. He needs ter learn this."

"I'm still recover—Suiton: Suijinheki!" River water rose up and blocked the burst of flame that had escaped the redhead's mouth. Utakata dove beneath the water's surface, swimming to the river's center and rising to his feet, placing himself between the irate Iwa-nin and the wide-eyed Naruto. "Are you insane? At least give me a warning—"

"Yeh git no warnin's in combat. Yōton: Yōgan-Ryū no Jutsu!"

"Suiton: Dai Suijinheki!" As a massive wall of water rose to intercept the incoming Lava Flow Technique, Utakata made a shooing gesture to the Jinchūriki behind him. "Naruto, get back! You're not going to want to get caught up in this." He blazed through hand seals, saturating the river with his chakra. Bubbles rose from the water's surface and levitated around the brunet.

Rōshi snorted. "Yeh think that'll stop me?" He charged forward, summoning a pillar of earth beneath his foot that boosted him into the air above the Six-Tails' Jinchūriki. His cheeks bulged in preparation for an attack, but Utakata had already pitched his hand up, commanding several bubbles to follow the motion. They flew upwards and exploded in the redhead's face before he could attack, sending him crashing into the river.

A copy of the brunet formed from the water where the older Jinchūriki had landed, its hands held out to create and hold a large sphere of liquid with the Iwa-nin inside. Rōshi stared at him from within the Water Prison Technique, one eyebrow arched to silently question if the Kiri-nin thought the ninjutsu was enough to hold him. Utataka's hands twisted through more seals, a Water Release: Water Fang Bullet rising to impale the redhead, but Rōshi was already shrouded in a coat of lava that evaporated both the Water Prison Technique and the brunet's clone.

Utakata sent the remaining bubbles at the approaching Jinchūriki, but a wave of pure heat popped them before they got close. He sped through seals, feeling the river's water answer the call of his chakra. "Suiton: Daibakufu no Jutsu!"

The river swelled into a giant wave that flowed upstream and crashed over the Iwa-nin. Steam erupted at the point of contact, and Rōshi continued to walk through unhindered, an unstoppable force cloaked in red-orange. He charged the brunet, every footstep producing a hiss from the contact of heat and water, and Utakata summoned three Mizu Bunshin to run interference.

Rōshi burst through them with a brutal clothesline, and Utakata barely managed to cross his arms in front of his face to defend himself. He hissed as the redhead's knuckles burned his forearms, the punch taking him off his feet. Water splashed up when he fell backwards, and the brunet kicked blindly to force himself into the river's flow.

"Yōton: Shakugaryūgan no Jutsu!"

Utakata's head struck a dam of solid rock that hadn't been obstructing the river's flow previously. He rose from the water, one hand rubbing his injured skull. Splashing drew his attention to the charging Rōshi, and the brunet flipped through a short set of seals before expelling a stream of water from his mouth. "Suiton: Suidan no Jutsu!"

Rōshi was pushed back by the Water Bullet Technique, but he held up one arm palm-out, the fiery aura coating the appendage solidifying into bulky pumice. The incoming water sprayed out in all directions in the face of the hardened resistance, and the redhead continued a slower trek towards the Rokubi Jinchūriki. Saiken, Utakata probed with gritted teeth, I could use your help.

…I cannot.

What?

It would not be appropriate for me to lend my strength against one of my brethren.

He growled at the slug, snapping, Fine! and breaking off the internal dialogue. I'll do it myself.

The Kiri-nin released his control over the chakra serving as his second skin, the acidic quality of his Bijū's gift eating through his boxers and effervescing with the river. Rōshi laughed, a gruff, rusty echo. "Finally! Yeh can lose control, eh? See this, boy?" he called, addressing Naruto. "This's a Jinchūriki's power."

He blazed forward as bubbles began to rise off the Kiri-nin's skin. When he was close enough, the heat from his aura popped the bubbles, and a series of small explosions engulfed the pair. Utakata flew backwards and hit the wall of hardened lava created by the Scorching Stream Rock Technique, his acidic skin slowly dissolving the makeshift dam.

Golden eyes opened with an accompanying groan to find Rōshi kneeling over him, a curved kunai hovering an inch above his throat. This is familiar. The redhead was covered in shiny obsidian, his other fist holding the brunet's chest (and body) underwater. Rōshi smirked at him. "Yield."

Utakata knew when he was beaten. "I yield," he said, covering himself in his protective chakra once more.

"Yeh don' know how ter fully use yer power," Rōshi noted. Chips of obsidian flaked off his body and dropped into the river until he was left unarmored.

"…No," the Kiri-nin admitted. His voice carried a sourness borne of embarrassment. "My training wasn't allowed to get to that point. Just enough to make me dangerous. Fear of too much power they couldn't fully control, I think." At least, I can't figure out any other explanation. "I had hoped to work on it here…" He shot Rōshi a hopeful look.

The redhead arched an eyebrow, arms crossed over his chest. "Are yeh expectin' me ter teach yeh yer powers?"

"We should all be learning to control our Jinchūriki powers, so yes, the thought had crossed my mind." At his companion's snort, Utakata suggested, "But I'd settle for learning how to control that chakra armor ninjutsu you use?"

Rōshi stepped out of the river, his back to the brunet in a clear dismissal. "Yeh see th' point?" he announced to the trees. Naruto appeared from behind a trunk, blue eyes wide. "Ev'ry fight's dang'rous. No jutsu's perfect. Got it?"

The blond nodded, his expression solemn. "Got it."

Utakata followed the Yonbi Jinchūriki out of the water and moved to grab his pants and kimono, clothing himself with a sigh. And today was going so well.

A tug on his sleeve drew his attention. Naruto stood next to him, brow furrowed in concern. "Are you okay?"

The Kiri-nin tried to smile at the boy, though the gesture came off a little thin. "I'll be fine. Rōshi's just…"

"Mean," Naruto supplied. "And angry."

Utakata laughed, and the action released the knot of tension coiled in his stomach. "You're not wrong," he managed between chuckles. "Naruto?" When the blond cocked his head to one side to indicate he was paying attention, the Kiri-nin continued, "Do me a favor. No matter what Rōshi says, just…let yourself be a kid."

"Huh?"

"Rōshi's right that each fight is dangerous," the brunet explained. "Hell, just being a shinobi is dangerous. Being a Jinchūriki even more so. And you should always be prepared to fight for your life; that's part of what we're trying to train you for. But it's also important that you get to be who you are. You can't let other people tell you who you should be. Do you understand?"

"I…think so."

Utakata clapped a hand on the younger boy's shoulder. "Just keep being yourself. Why don't you head home for the day? We'll pick up tomorrow."

"Okay, later!"

The Kiri-nin watched him disappear in the direction of Konoha, and when he was out of sight, Rōshi asked in a gruff voice, "What was th' point o' that?"

"You never really had a childhood, right?" He spared a glance at the redhead when no response seemed forthcoming, finding only flat, skeptical, dark eyes. "You're not exactly special in that regard. But Yagura…he only wanted to enjoy life, and he never got a chance. Kiri forced him to learn to be Mizukage before he learned how to have fun."

"Trainin' th' kid was yer idea."

"I know. And we should keep going. But unlike you, me, or Yagura, Naruto seems like he knows how to have fun. Be a kid. We should encourage that, not discourage it."

Utakata expected Rōshi to snort, or scoff, or make a sarcastic reply, but only silence greeted his statement. The Iwa-nin's brow was furrowed, mouth puckered slightly, and if it was Naruto, the brunet might have called his expression thoughtful. He looks…nostalgic?

"Fine."

The Kiri-nin started. "Sorry?"

"I said 'fine'," Rōshi grunted.

"Oh. Well…good. Thanks."

He turned to head back to their campsite when Rōshi said, "I git it." The brunet stopped, turning around in surprise, and the older Jinchūriki's dark eyes found his golden ones. "Aye. Git over it. Yeh don' coddle 'im, an' I don' break 'im."

"Slide forward more. When yeh twist, yeh'll git more power. Not that far, yeh'll unbalance!" A sigh. "Too late."

"I'm trying!" Naruto complained.

"I can tell," was Rōshi's dry response, and Utakata was surprised that his tone lacked its usual condescension. After so much time together, it seemed like the redhead was actually trying to be civil, which was…impressive. "Try again. An' watch yer stance this time."

"Can't I fight something? It's boring hitting air."

Rōshi brought his hands together, and a clone rose from the dirt before him. "It won't hit back, if yer afraid o' that."

"As if!"

Naruto charged the doppelganger, throwing a punch that transitioned to a series of taijutsu combinations that Rōshi had shown him. His movements were fluid despite how stilted the katas themselves appeared to the brunet's golden eyes, as if they were missing an important component. Whatever style the Yonbi Jinchūriki had taught the boy was clearly meant to deliver debilitating results with minimal effort. Supplemented by his lava armor, it was easy to see why the style was effective as an offense.

The blond jumped, somersaulted, and brought his leg down in a drop-kick. Clone-Rōshi blocked with its arms, and Naruto leveraged his other foot on its shoulder to spring off it, tossing a kunai that buried itself in the back of the clone's neck. It crumbled on the spot, and the boy landed on the ground in a crouch.

"Oh, yer improvisin' now, eh?"

Naruto rose and faced the Iwa-nin, his rosy cheeks betraying his flustered state. "Uh, well—"

"Yer smarter than I gave yeh credit fer," Rōshi acknowledged. His voice had its usual gruffness, but Utakata – scrutinizing the redhead's tics for any miniscule changes in how he treated the two younger Jinchūriki – detected a near-imperceptible undercurrent of…pride? "Yeh got ter adapt ter each situation an' take advantage o' any openin's. Not bad."

Naruto's lips exploded like a lit firecracker into a beatific smile, his excitement a palpable thing. "Hey, hey, did ya hear that, Utakata-nii? I'm awesome."

The brunet's relaxed expression froze in place, body petrified and mouth open to deliver tempered praise that wouldn't escape his throat. Where Naruto stood, casting him a concerned glance, he only saw unkempt grey hair and pupil-less pink eyes, an adult's solemnity on a child's face. "…Utakata-nii?"

"If yeh think yer such hot stuff, yeh should try fightin' him now that he's healed."

"Um, is he okay?"

"Fine!" Utakata gasped with sudden alertness, voice more strained than he would have liked. "I'm fine," he repeated, calmer. Over the blond's head, Rōshi raised a skeptical eyebrow, and the Kiri-nin brushed it off as a figment of his frazzled mind that the gesture was silently asking the same question. "We can spar if you'd like."

Naruto seemed to take the brunet's answer at face value and resumed bouncing on the balls of his feet. Rōshi gave a shrug and said, "If yeh want ter make it fair, yeh should limit yerself ter taijutsu only, let th' kid use anythin'."

"Sure, that sounds fine."

One red eyebrow arched again, but the brunet ignored it to settle himself in a defensive stance, blocking Naruto's charging attack with a rigidity contrary to his normally fluid movements. Focus, he scolded himself, even as his thoughts whirred around uncontrolled, analyzing the status of their situation. In the back of his mind, he acknowledged that Rōshi's initial reticence and constant distance seemed to be fading, which was good news for his plan. The idea that he'd made inroads, even small ones, with the antisocial recluse was reassuring.

And Naruto seemed to be retaining what he was taught, if the spar was any indication, even if development seemed slow. Not that the blond's sluggish progress was in any way his fault. His poor education aside, Utakata knew that even good shinobi required time and repetition to learn something new, and the younger Jinchūriki was learning everything – multiple things – from scratch.

"Utakata-nii!"

Yagura's voice was all too real in his head, its echo a distant cry for help. He flubbed a block and suffered a hard strike to his ribs, reinforcing the evidence of Naruto's improvements. Get it together! he scolded himself. Just because Naruto and Yagura call me the same thing…

He felt suddenly winded at the thought, a second blow with no physical cause. It was a stark reminder of why he'd left the Hidden Mist and what they were training for. Yagura was on a timetable – they all were – with no way of knowing how much time they had left. Months? Weeks? At what point would Akatsuki deem it more prudent to extract the Three-Tails than to maintain its puppet? And what of the remaining Jinchūriki, still unaccounted for, still unaware of the danger they were in?

The solace he'd just found in both Naruto's and Rōshi's progress now seemed insignificant and bittersweet. Worry jittered through his body and clouded his mind.

Naruto threw a punch at his stomach, and Utakata pushed it down almost robotically before taking a careful step back as the blond swiped at him with a kunai in his left hand. The younger Jinchūriki stepped towards him and spun clockwise, his right fist coming around in a hammerblow. Utakata blocked the strike with both arms, and Naruto jumped back to throw his kunai at the brunet. "Katon: Gōkakyū no Jutsu!"

The Kiri-nin was already in the process of dodging the knife when a fireball the size of his head burst from the blond's mouth. Without thinking, Utakata condensed the water vapor in the air in front of him to create a thin shield of liquid that soaked up the incoming Great Fireball.

"Enough!"

The pair stopped at Rōshi's order, turning their attention to the approaching redhead. "Yeh broke th' rules," he berated the Mist shinobi. "Nothin' but taijutsu. Yeh lose." He turned to the Kyūbi Jinchūriki. "Quick thinkin' with th' kunai an' th' Gōkakyū. Not bad, kid."

Naruto grinned wide and rubbed the back of his head, flushing with a mixture of pride and embarrassment. "Heheh, thanks!"

Dark eyes rolled back to the Rokubi Jinchūriki. "Yer taijutsu ain't bad 'nough that th' kid should beat yeh."

"Sorry. I was distracted."

"Yer a Jōnin, yeh shouldn' git distracted. An' it shouldn' take much ter beat 'im."

"I don't need your judgment right now," the brunet snapped.

"Are you sure you're okay, Utakata-nii?"

"Don't call me that!"

Naruto took a surprised step backwards, blue eyes wide with hurt. Rōshi scowled at the Kiri-nin. Dark eyes never leaving the brunet, he said, "Oi, kid, why don' yeh go swimmin' fer a bit, hm?"

The blond cast a hesitant glance between the two older Jinchūriki before acquiescing with a confused, "Um, yeah, okay."

Rōshi's hand clamped around the Mist shinobi's bicep with a grip like iron. The Rokubi Jinchūriki winced as his companion's fingertips tightened uncomfortably on his arm, a hard yank nearly pulling the limb from its socket. "What's your problem?" Utakata hissed.

"I'm old an' hate change," Rōshi retorted, dragging the teenager behind a tree. He let go of the boy and crossed his arms over his chest. "What's yer problem? Th' kid looks up ter yeh," he said, pointing to where Naruto was standing in the river, naked from the waist up, trying to manipulate the water he was standing atop. "An' o' th' two o' us, yer th' nice one, so pull it t'gether."

Under the Iwa-nin's harsh glare, the brunet could feel shame crawling beneath his skin. "…It's the name," he admitted, "what he called me. 'Utakata-nii'. Yagura calls me that. Or he used to anyway, before…everything. Just hearing him call me that, it…triggered something."

"Yeh got PTSD or somethin'?"

Utakata's brows furrowed in confusion. "No?"

"Then git over yerself. Yeh can't expect ter rescue yer friend if yeh git thrown by ev'ry tiny thing someone says."

"You don't understand what that friendship means to me!"

"I've heard yeh talk 'bout it enough ter know what yeh think it means," Rōshi shot back, "an' it's a liability!"

Utakata blinked, too surprised to hold on to his anger. "…What?"

"D'yeh think that Akatsuki won't take advantage o' yer mental state ter get what they want?" the Iwa-nin argued. "If yer head ain't in th' game, yeh won't help no one. Yeh'll git yerself killed 'cause yer bein' stupid, an' then where'll yer friend be, eh? Pull yerself t'gether or we're all dead."

The brunet shook his head, an attempt to rid himself of the specter that loomed over him, choosing to focus instead on the last thing the older Jinchūriki had said. "We?" he asked weakly, unsure if he'd heard his companion correctly.

Rōshi crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. "I'm still here, ain't I? Don' read inter it. Yeh jus' happen ter be right that Akatsuki's too big fer one o' us."

The grin that slowly stretched across Utakata's lips felt foreign, even as a surge of victory swelled in his chest. So you've actually come around, huh? Maybe you're not as self-serving as you appear.

"Stop smilin', yeh look stupid."

"If you say so."

Rōshi shifted under the Kiri-nin's golden gaze, dark eyes darting in Naruto's direction. As closed off as the redhead was, Utakata got the impression that he was distinctly uncomfortable with how the conversation had turned. "Yeh wanted ter make a connection with th' kid, an' now yeh've got one. So quit mopin', take advantage o' it, an' teach 'im somethin'."

Utakata nodded. "Right. Thanks."

"Hmph. Jus' don' do it again."

Utakata walked away from his companion and towards the river, where Naruto was practicing the hand seals for the Wild Water Wave. Brow furrowed in concentration, he missed the brunet shedding his kimono and stepping into the water. The Kiri-nin waited several seconds for a lull in the blond's practice before coughing to catch his attention. "Sorry," he said when blue eyes finally focused on him.

"S'okay."

The brunet shook his head. "No, it isn't. I was distracted and not giving you my full attention, and that's not fair to you."

Naruto cocked his head to one side, peering at the teenager with a curious expression, a trinket he couldn't quite put a value on. "You're kinda weird, Utakata-nii."

Utakata flinched at the nickname, the specter of his friend returning to superimpose itself over the boy. That Naruto was roughly the same size as his friend and playing in the water only helped cement the image. The Kiri-nin shook it from his vision and managed, "Sorry, what?"

"No one's ever really cared about paying attention to me before," Naruto said. He was focused on his hands, the fingers twisting together, though it now seemed more like he was fidgeting than trying to achieve any sort of jutsu. "But you're apologizing to me even though you're training me every day? I don't get it."

The bubble-user sighed, a sad smile stretching his lips. "I'm apologizing because you deserve better. We all deserve better," he corrected. Naruto glanced behind him to where Rōshi stood in the shadows of the trees, arms crossed and expression stony. "Yes, even Rōshi." He paused, a pensive look overtaking his features, and then probed, "Naruto, have you thought about why we're here? Rōshi and me, I mean."

"Mm, not really. You're here to train me, right?"

"Well, yes, but there's more to it than that. Do you remember the friend I mentioned, Yagura? The Mizukage?"

"Oh yeah, him! Uh huh!"

"Yagura's like my little brother, and I promised to protect him, but…something happened. Something I'm not strong enough to fight on my own. There's a group of people hunting the Jinchūriki, and they're using Yagura to do it."

"But…he's a Kage," Naruto said, confusion evident in his voice. "The Kage's the strongest shinobi in the village, so how—?"

"A Kage is still only human," Utakata placated. Or demon, in this case. He was suddenly glad that Rōshi was out of earshot; there was no telling how the redhead's cynicism would destroy his argument, let alone the blond's worldview. It already seemed like he was breaking the Kyūbi Jinchūriki's preconceptions, and he was attempting to be delicate about it. "And I hope you would know by now that no one is infallible. Yagura's in danger, and I have to help him."

"Let's do it!"

Utakata jerked, startled by the blond's sudden enthusiasm. "Sorry?"

Naruto's fists were clenched, determination clear in his blue eyes. "If your friend needs help, then I'm in! The Hokage protects his people, and Yagura's a Jinchūriki like us, so he's my people, too! We'll save him, Utakata-nii, believe it!"

Utakata stared at the younger boy in awe, impressed by his determination. Although, he mused, perhaps ignorance is bliss after all. Naruto had shown more than once that he had little understanding for the scope of things, a trait that flew in the face of both Rōshi's skepticism and Utakata's realism, and the brunet had intentionally left out the peril Akatsuki posed to all of them for fear of either losing the blond's trust or scaring him.

But even without knowing the breadth of the challenge that lay before them, the Konoha native was willing to lend his aid to a complete stranger. All at the behest of someone he'd only known for a couple months, someone he seemed to look up to as a brother. The boy's outlook boggled the mind; there wasn't a soul in Kiri like Naruto, and Utakata was fairly sure that Rōshi would say the same of Iwa's citizens.

The Kiri-nin reached out with a tentative hand, eventually resting it upon the head of messy blond spikes. Naruto looked up from where he'd returned to practicing his water manipulation with rapt attention while standing on the river, and Utakata tousled his hair in a gesture of affection he hadn't been allowed (or allowed himself) to bestow since before Yagura had become Mizukage. "Utakata-nii?"

Utakata smiled at him, seeing Naruto for who he was without Yagura's shadow hanging around him, the guilt he'd associated with that title now a reminder of what he had to accomplish. "You're a good kid, Naruto. Now, why don't you show me what you've got, hm?"

"You bet!"

Utakata watched the boy flip through seals and sink his chakra into the surrounding water, creating a small geyser that splashed him in the face. The brunet let out a genuine laugh as water dripped from the blond's bangs, moving closer to advise him on how to maintain control.

I'll protect you, too, Naruto. And this time, I won't fail. I swear.

Chapter Text

He stared at the open book on his desk, blue eyes drinking in every detail of the picture. A splotch of blond hair and a white overcoat was all that could be seen atop a massive toad with dark red skin. Before the human/amphibian pair was a truly gigantic fox with orange-red fur and nine tails, its maw open wide in an imposing snarl. The creature appeared far too realistic, the artist capturing its hatred and viciousness in the clawed paws and sharp teeth of its frozen roar.

A shudder shook his body at the Kyūbi's image, and he fixated on the bright colors atop the toad. That the Yondaime had faced down the Nine-Tails and defeated it when even just an image of the creature could evoke fear years later was beyond impressive. It was epic.

"—which was when Yondaime-sama teleported the Kyūbi outside Konoha—"

"And kicked its ass, believe it!" Naruto interjected, rising from his seat with one fist pumped into the air.

"Naruto!" Iruka snapped, visibly irked at the interruption. "Sit down! And watch your language!"

The blond reluctantly took his seat amid the muffled tittering of his classmates, drowning out Iruka's voice as the teacher continued his lecture. Blue eyes returned to staring at the artist's depiction of the fight between the Kyūbi and the Yondaime. I'll be as awesome a Hokage as you one day, he thought. Just wait!

"Breathe in and hold it…good. Breathe out, slowly, then do it again. Good. Keep going…in, out."

Utakata walked around Naruto as the blond obeyed his instructions, chakra keeping them both standing atop the river's surface. "When you're ready," the brunet continued, voice soft and even, "gather your chakra in your chest, just like you do for Katon. Then breathe out, but picture your chakra as water, not fire."

Naruto opened one eye to peer at the Kiri-nin. "How will I know when I'm ready?"

"Only you'll be able to answer that, but you should take your time. There's no rush. You know the basics of using Suiton by manipulating the shape of existing water, but this will be about changing the nature of your chakra. These are the hand seals for the Mizurappa," he said, forming them with methodical slowness for the Leaf native to observe.

Naruto copied the movements, focusing on memorizing the order of the seals rather than trying to immediately activate the technique, and Utakata allowed himself a small smile at the boy's concentration. Months ago, if he'd taught the blond the same thing, there was little doubt he would have rushed into activating the Wild Water Wave without actually learning it, and Suiton couldn't be hurried. That he'd taken all the brunet's lessons to heart was reassuring.

The younger Jinchūriki's breathing was loud but level as he prepared himself to perform water-based nature manipulation. Utakata allowed the boy to focus in peace, judging his status from in front of him.

"Shouldn't yeh be doin' somethin'?"

Utakata jumped slightly, whipping around to find Rōshi leaning against a tree, arms crossed over his chest. The redhead was normally silent – or even absent – from Naruto's training with the brunet, finding the steps of learning Suiton too quiet and measured for his taste. "Shh!" he hissed, shooting a backwards glance at the blond. When he was assured that the outburst hadn't interrupted Naruto's focus, he jumped from the river and alighted beside the Iwa-nin. "Really? You're going to do this now? He needs quiet if he's going to learn this part."

Rōshi arched an eyebrow. "I ain't talkin' 'bout 'im. Yer wastin' time watchin' 'im an' not doin' nothin'."

Utakata had the grace to avert his eyes in embarrassment. After bearing witness to Rōshi's shifting outlook over the past several months, he felt ashamed for even questioning the Iwa-nin's intentions, despite delivery with the redhead's usual sarcasm. "Ah, right. Should we move to give him space?"

Rōshi scoffed. "Yer so soft. How'd yeh grow up in Kiri? Don' answer that," he said, waving a hand through the air to dismiss the answer the Mist shinobi had opened his mouth to give. "OI!" he shouted. "Utakata an' I are gonna do some trainin'! Are yeh good?"

Utakata threw another worried glance over his shoulder at Naruto, but the blond didn't appear as if he'd even heard the Four-Tails' Jinchūriki. He turned back around to find Rōshi smirking at him. "Shut up," he told the redhead, fighting to keep the amusement from his voice.

The Iwa-nin shrugged. "Don' know why yeh bother. No fight goes with no distractions. Trainin' like this'll keep 'im alive when a fight gits rough." He arched an eyebrow. "What're yeh waitin' fer? Let's see what yeh've got."

"You enjoy this far more than you should," Utakata replied, divesting himself of his kimono and hanging it over a tree branch. He took a deep breath and then released his hold over his chakra, allowing a green, mucus-like liquid to ooze from his pores.

Across from him, heat roared to life around Rōshi, forming an armor of lava that hardened into dark obsidian. "Aye, beatin' yeh up don' git ol'. Mebbe yeh'll learn humility afore yeh learn ter use yer goop skin with yer clothes."

"It's the Tokeru," muttered the teenager petulantly. He took an offensive stance, the thin film of his Acid Armor technique covering every inch of skin from his torso up. He charged Rōshi, swiping at the older Jinchūriki with a chop of his right arm. Acid met obsidian, and the sound of sizzling stone echoed between the pair for a moment as Utakata's technique began to dissolve the redhead's defense.

"Strong stuff," grunted Rōshi. "Guess yer not holdin' back this time, eh?"

Utakata smirked. "You shouldn't have made fun of it. Even rock won't last long under a low pH." He grunted when the Iwa-nin planted a solid foot in his stomach and then retracted it quickly to not let the acid linger on his obsidian armor. The brunet moved closer, twisting around his opponent's elbow strike and wrapping his arms around Rōshi's neck in a stranglehold. Acid ate away at the black rock covering the redhead's throat, shoulders, and upper back, every point where the Kiri-nin's skin was in contact.

Another grunt, this time in annoyance. "Yer jutsu only works if yeh've got th' taijutsu ter back it. An' yers still sucks." A small mound of earth rose beneath the Rock shinobi's feet, elevating him above the acid-user and allowing him to leverage his weight – augmented by the obsidian armor – backwards. Utakata let out a grunt as the redhead's body pressed him into the forest floor, a breathy gasp escaping his lips as the armor's jagged edges dug into his stomach. "Yeh'll run outta breath afore I run outta armor."

"We'll…see…" choked out the brunet. More acid seeped from his pores, dissolving the earth around him and giving him enough room to wriggle out from beneath the older Jinchūriki. By the time he got to his feet, Rōshi was already up and throwing a punch at his face, and Utakata barely got his arms up in time to block it. He let out a reflexive hiss of discomfort from being hit, though the blow carryed surprisingly little force. "What the hell? How are you even up right now? That armor must weigh a ton!"

"Doton: Keijūgan no Jutsu," smirked the redhead.

Utakata released a sigh of exasperation. Of course he still has tricks he hasn't used yet. He couldn't tell if his annoyance was caused by not knowing whether Rōshi still didn't trust him enough to tell him about the different strategies he used in battle, or because the gap in their abilities was still so vast. At this point, it seemed like Rōshi was even in a league above Yagura, though without access to his Bijū forms, he wondered if that was an accurate assessment.

"Nothin's perfect, not even my jutsu," Rōshi informed him, as if reading his thoughts.

"Yeah, I know, though it sure seems that way. How do I beat it then?"

Even as he asked the question, he was sure he wouldn't get an answer, the redhead still reluctant to divulge too much sensitive information. Instead, the Iwa-nin made a shooing gesture, and Utakata complied, backing up until he was directed to stop. "Try standin' like this," Rōshi instructed, dropping his armor and moving his body into what the acid-user assumed was an offensive position. He copied the movements, and when it seemed the older Jinchūriki was satisfied with his stance, he continued, "When yeh attack, make sure yeh grab me like this," he advised, showing the younger Jinchūriki the correct move.

"Like this?"

Rōshi nodded. "Aye. Then—"

"Suiton: Mizurappa!"

Utakata was blasted into a tree by a powerful jet of water, his Acid Armor – while diluted – slowly dissolving the bark. "Sorry Utakata-nii!" Naruto called out, the splashing of water alerting the Kiri-nin to the blond's approach. Golden eyes opened to find the younger Jinchūriki kneeling over him, apprehension clear in his blue irises. "I just kept waitin' for the right moment like you said, and then Rōshi-oji kinda made this move and—"

From nearby, loud above Naruto's anxious concern, Rōshi was laughing uproariously. "Aye, yeh got 'im good, kid. How'd yeh like yer own medicine, eh?"

Naruto looked to be torn between trying not smile at his prank and nerves over the Kiri-nin's reaction, and was failing horribly at the former. Utakata absorbed the Tokeru, reactivated his protective chakra layer, and blew water droplets from his bangs, allowing an amused grin to tug at his lips. "That was a good hit, Naruto. Good force and everything. Now you'll just need to practice speeding up the release." He turned his attention from the pleased Naruto to Rōshi. "I wasn't aware you knew how to have fun."

The redhead shrugged, suddenly over his bout of amusement. He looked older again, the brief laugh lines that had crossed his features disappearing into a neutral expression. "Yeh keep sayin' ter let th' kid be a kid. Don' know why yeh shouldn't reap th' rewards o' yer idea."

Sharp eyes flitted between the Yonbi and Kyūbi Jinchūriki before Utakata clambered to his feet, got his kimono, and wrapped it around himself. "Let's call it a day, Naruto. That you can use the Mizurappa is really impressive. You'll just have to remember how you felt when you did it and keep practicing."

Rōshi shot him a suspicious look. "Yer makin' it sound like yer not gonna be here ter guide 'im."

The Kiri-nin shook his head. "I'm not."

Rōshi's eyebrows furrowed deeper. Naruto let out a long whine. "How come?"

"Someone's got to continue the mission," Utakata explained. "There are more Jinchūriki out there, in danger, and you've come a long way in the months since we've met. I can't teach you anything more until you have a better grasp of your Suiton abilities, and I trust Rōshi won't do anything…drastic," he settled on. "He's still got plenty to teach you, and you can practice everything I taught you in between. You'll be okay, okay?"

"Yeah, okay…"

When the Kiri-nin turned to leave, Rōshi grabbed his elbow with an iron grip. In a low voice, the redhead asked, "D'yeh really think now's th' right time?"

"There will never be a right time. But now's as good a time as any."

"Th' kid ain't ready fer yeh ter leave."

He tossed a glance back at the glum Naruto, then returned to his low conversation with the Iwa-nin. "We've got to let him fly on his own at some point, right? Besides, he'll have you. I trust you to keep him alive until I get back."

Rōshi scoffed, though it seemed the noise lacked his old gruffness. "Tch…stupid."

Utakata grinned at him. "Watch your temper," he advised. Then he walked over to Naruto and ruffled the blond's spiky locks, earning a wobbly smile in return. "Don't worry, I'll be back. Just pay attention, and try not to piss Rōshi off too badly."

Despite his despondency, Naruto threw the brunet a smart salute. "Aye aye!"

"Yeh keep twitchin'."

Naruto flicked one eye open to peer at Rōshi, wrinkling his nose in distaste. "Sorry. It's just…it's still weird."

"So yeh've said," Rōshi grunted, though the corner of his lips lifted in a smirk. Six months ago, he and the blond would've been at the other's throat in a competition of who could irritate or be irritated by the other more. Now…well, that they could both be around each other without Utakata around to run interference was a feat the older Jinchūriki would've considered impossible in his previous life.

Who'd've thought an Iwa-nin an' th' Yondaime's kid could git along?

The blond's measured breaths drew his attention. He was sitting cross-legged on the forest floor with his eyes closed, palms resting on his knees, body uncharacteristically still. It wouldn't last long – Naruto was too fidgety to take up something resembling meditation long-term – but that he could manage the brief spurts he did was impressive. The young brat he'd met had been too impetuous to manage anything close to this. All of Utakata's Suiton training had done some good after all.

"Don' move," he told the younger Jinchūriki. His gruff voice was almost soothing, low enough to not disrupt the silence of the surroundings. "Earth is still, unyieldin'. It don' move in th' face o' nothin'." Naruto inhaled, nostrils flaring, and Rōshi continued, "Now, put yer chakra in th' dirt an' make it move."

Naruto's hands twisted through familiar seals, eyelids opening to reveal steely determination. "Doton: Doroku Gaeshi."

Rōshi could feel the ground tremble beneath him as the Kyūbi Jinchūriki activated the Earth Release: Earth Shore Return. He waited for a slab of earth to tear itself from the dirt and become the 10-foot wall it should have, but the ground only continued to rumble. "Th' earth'll fight yeh," he lectured, voice hard. It wasn't the first time he'd said those words, but repetition tended to help the boy learn. "Earth is stubborn, but yeh can control it if yer more stubborn. Yeh've been practicin' fer weeks, so dig in an' fight. Back."

A low, guttural growl tore itself from the blond's throat, a flush of exertion creeping up his neck and face. Work, damn it, work! "Doton: Doroku Gaeshi!"

The earth in front of Naruto rose slowly amidst the ground's grumbling, a two-inch-thick rectangular slab tilting away from the blond. Seconds crawled by, but when the rumbling of the earth finally stopped, a two-foot by two-foot wall stood erect before him. The young Jinchūriki's breathing evened out, its ragged edges becoming smooth and easy. "I…did it."

"Aye, that yeh did." Naruto craned his head and flashed the Iwa-nin a bright smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. Rōshi's fist came down and lightly rapped him on the back of the head. "Don' git cocky."

Despite the reprimand, Naruto's grin remained in place. "Okay, Rōshi-oji."

Rōshi rolled his dark eyes. "Li'l brat," he muttered. "I tol' yeh ter stop callin' me that."

Naruto chose to ignore him, asking instead, "You still haven't heard from Utakata-nii?"

Another eyeroll. "Yeh don' give up, d'yeh? How d'yeh think that'd happen, hm?"

Naruto shrugged. "I dunno. You guys are pretty sneaky, ya know?"

"Yeh don' git how any o' this works, d'yeh?"

"Mm, not really."

Rōshi let out a sigh that was equal parts exasperation and tired bemusement. Yer exhaustin'. He shook his head to disguise the sour smile that flitted across his lips. If only we were all so naïve… "Aye, nothin' from Utakata."

"So are you finally gonna teach me Yōton now? When you showed me before you said that I just needed to know Katon and Doton."

"C'mon, oji-san, I'm ready to learn Yōton now, right? Teach me!"

An image of his niece floated before his eyes, and the redhead was forced to blink the vision away. He was left staring at Naruto's beseeching blue eyes and hopeful expression. "Aye, so I did. But yeh should prob'bly git better afore yeh try ter combine 'em," he advised dryly. "One time don' make yeh a master. Learnin' takes time."

Naruto pouted. "Maaan…"

"Th' firs' step's th' hardest," he offered, tone as conciliatory as he could make it. His voice still came out gruff, but the hard edge of disgust and boredom honed from too many decades of bitter solitude was smoothed down. "Yeh'll git it in time. In th' meantime, we keep movin' forward."

We keep movin' forward.

Rōshi saw Naruto's mouth move, but he didn't hear whatever words were spoken, too caught up in what he'd said to pay attention. At some point, he'd allowed himself to become attached to Utakata and Naruto, to the team and the mission that the Kiri-nin had pitched as a farfetched way of saving some Jinchūriki who would be an enemy in every other situation. Somewhere along the way, 'I' had become 'we', and training Naruto had become…important. Vital to their survival.

Training the blond made him nostalgic for the rare moments he'd shared with his niece, before he'd been dissuaded by the Tsuchikage to give up their time together. It hadn't been worth it then to give up his solitude for just a few instances of genuine affection and amusement, to risk either her future or his, and yet here he was in the same situation again, but this time the decision had been made for him by two strangers he owed nothing to.

Except this time, it felt like the right one had been made.

Mebbe it's a sign.

He cast his gaze skyward, seeking answers from a deity that had done nothing but forsake him for almost 50 years.

No guidance was forthcoming, and Rōshi grunted at the expected (lack of) response. Yeh got ter make yer own decisions…an' fix yer mistakes.

Maybe part of the reason he was training Naruto was to make up for abandoning his niece when she'd asked for his help. It sounded like the kind of psycho-babble Utakata would spout, but the redhead had been around the bubble-user long enough to know that there may have been a bit of truth to the sentiment. And if he was making up for the mistakes of his past, there was one other he needed to address, a far, far bigger one.

"I got ter go."

"Huh?"

"I got ter help Utakata."

"But Utakata-nii said you should keep training me."

"I know!" Rōshi snapped. At Naruto's hurt expression, he took a deep breath and then repeated more calmly, "I know." He looked to the west, expression stony; one hand fiddled with the stone in his pocket, the leash that kept him tethered to the Hidden Rock. "But I need ter take care o' somethin', an' I need ter leave ter do it."

Hesitantly, before he could rethink it, he placed one strong hand on the boy's head and ruffled his blond locks. "Yeh'll be okay on yer own. Yeh've been doin' it fer a long time, a li'l longer won't hurt yeh."

"…Don't like bein' alone," Naruto mumbled.

"Utakata'll be back," Rōshi reassured. "I'll be back. Jus' keep practicin', eh? Mebbe when I come back, yeh'll be ready ter learn Yōton proper."

Naruto nodded, though he still looked downcast. "Alright. Good luck, Rōshi-oji."

Aye, I'll need it.

Konoha was quiet.

Most of the time, when Naruto walked through the village, vendors hawked their wares, citizens crowded the streets, and the blond could barely move more than 10 feet without being forced to duck his head to avoid the scowl of some person. He'd gotten used to relegating the hustle and bustle of everyday life to background noise, especially as his training with Utakata and Rōshi had taken off, but there had always been a static, buzzy quality to it, nothing like the stillness currently enveloping him.

Now, with them gone and no noise to speak of, a loneliness he hadn't felt in months crept back into his bones and weighed him down, turning his walk into a trudge.

The two older Jinchūriki had taken him under their wings and given him the attention he'd desperately craved from people Rōshi would say weren't worth his time. And after months of ignoring the people who had steadfastly hated him, he was forced to admit that the Iwa-nin had a point; why did it matter what the villagers thought of him when he wasn't a part of their lives?

But then he reminded himself that he wanted to be in their lives, sought to be the Hokage, their protector, and just pretending that they didn't matter wasn't going to lead him to his goal. He needed Konoha's citizens to acknowledge him – his strength, his ability, his simple presence – if he wanted to be their leader.

He'd eventually stopped bringing that goal up to his companions for fear that they might eventually decide he was no longer worth their time. Rōshi tended to scoff at his dream, his creased brow a reminder of his eternal skepticism. And Utakata, when he wasn't fast enough to school his features, just looked sad, as if Naruto's declaration was a painful memory despite only knowing each other for a short while.

He looked like that a lot, now that Naruto thought about it, especially when asked about Yagura and how he'd gotten to be the Mizukage.

The morning he'd arrived at their training area after the teenaged Jinchūriki had left, a pit had settled in his stomach. It was the fear that, despite what Utakata had said, it had been the blond's fault that someone who'd finally been willing to give him attention was gone, that someone who'd taken him seriously no longer considered him worthy. But Rōshi had still been there, and if the redhead had seemed just a little more annoyed than usual, it wasn't anything Naruto had really considered uncharacteristic. Months of training together hadn't erased the Iwa-nin's tendencies to be a grumpy old man.

As the days had stretched with no sign from the brunet, the idea that Utakata might not return – either by his own volition or due to other circumstances – festered, with only Rōshi's unyielding drive to continue the blond's training keeping his focus. And, fortunate or not, that was the only thing the Iwa-nin allowed his attention to fixate on; any questions he'd had about the Rokubi Jinchūriki's whereabouts were ignored and answered with grueling physical training.

That it had only taken three times to stop asking on a regular basis was an achievement all its own.

But the silence of the two older Jinchūriki was suspicious. Not enough to question their motives, especially since they were too tight-lipped to say anything, but enough to know that there was something they weren't telling him.

What's going on? Why won't Utakata-nii and Rōshi-oji let me help?

He huffed in annoyance, a deep scowl settling over his features. He was part of the team, and he wanted to help, but the Iwa- and Mist-nin wouldn't let him, too intent on training him to make him aware of their plan. Did they think he was too weak to be of assistance?

His fists clenched in anger. I'm gonna be the next Hokage, damn it! I'll be the strongest there is!

"Remember, you need to stay calm. Go with the flow."

Utakata's soothing voice ran through his head, and he automatically took a deep breath. His inhale was cleansing, and if he closed his eyes, he could almost feel the water of the river they trained in moving around him, a tranquil presence. Think…think…

Utakata and Rōshi had dedicated months to him, it didn't make sense for them to leave him without good reason. And the redhead had said they would both return, so he would just have to be patient.

Naruto released another huff, though this one was more despondent. Patience was not exactly one of his strengths, especially without either of the older Jinchūriki there to keep him focused.

But Rōshi had given him a mission: persevere. Continue training. Work on the skills he and Utakata had spent arduous months beating into him, literally and figuratively.

Alright, he decided, fists clenched at his sides, gotta keep working.

He glanced up, looking around to see if anyone was around to witness his renewed dedication. The streets were still empty. I wonder where everyone is? Then he shrugged. Oh well.

His attention wandered to the village's exterior, the treetops bunched together in an indeterminate mass. Without Rōshi and Utakata, it didn't feel right to return to the spot he normally met them for training, even if that was his intention while they were gone. But Konoha's reach was far, and there were plenty of places to undertake the mission Rōshi had left him.

With no set destination in mind, Naruto meandered away from the Hidden Leaf's dusty streets and towards its green jungle. The trees appeared to loom overhead with serene grace, silent sentinels protecting the young Jinchūriki. A feeling of security settled over him, the slouch in his shoulders straightening, the assurance in his step growing more pronounced as he walked.

It was strange to find comfort and strength in the silence, especially since he'd never particularly cared for being alone, but maybe the months of training with Rōshi and Utakata among nature had been transformative. Though he didn't always agree with how the Iwa-nin saw things, he still understood why the redhead thought the way he did.

Loneliness was a feeling all Jinchūriki understood, or so Utakata liked to say.

Naruto shook his head to rid himself of the negative feelings. None of that, he told himself, Rōshi's rusty drawl echoing his thoughts. Focus on your breathing, and this time it was Utakata's voice accompanying his internal one.

His lips quirked of their own accord. Imagining the two older Jinchūriki being around, guiding him through their usual motions, helped offset the loneliness. With that thought in mind, he settled himself to his task, feeling energy ebb and flow throughout his body with each breath. He pushed his chakra into the earth on each exhale, feeling the unyielding nature of the dirt beneath him and finding an anchor to keep him tethered to his training.

He'd found out that learning Doton wasn't all that different from learning Suiton. Both elements were easier to manipulate from an existing source, and they both came easier to him when his mind was clear. Calm, Utakata liked to preach. Yet, despite that, they were also very different; water was in constant motion, always moving along the path of least resistance, whereas the earth was inert. Stubborn, Rōshi would grunt. Wielding either required focus, but different types: one a gentle, persistent hand to guide along a new path, the other a stubborn determination to force it to his will.

Kinda like Utakata-nii and Rōshi-oji.

The thought of the old Iwa-nin gave him the final push he needed to activate his jutsu, fingers twisting through seals. "Doton: Doroku Gaeshi!"

The earth before him grumbled, the outline of a four-foot by four-foot block of hardened dirt breaking free. Sweat beaded his brow as he felt the Earth Shore Return resist him, not ready to budge from its resting place. "Move…you…stupid…wall…" he bit out through gritted teeth, pushing more chakra into the technique and willing it to rise.

The technique responded to his will, rising slowly but steadily until it stood erected before him. Naruto let out a long exhale and placed his hands on his knees, more tired by the mental exertion than the physical one. His breathing evened out within seconds, and he straightened, admiring his success with a grin. "Heh, you're missin' out, Rōshi-oji."

His personal congratulation only served to emphasize once more how alone he was, the earthen wall reminding him of his red-haired tutor. Rōshi was stubborn and unmoving, a lot like the earth, but also quick-tempered and prone to outbursts, like a flame erupting from a spark. His mastery of Yōton made sense in that way, a perfect blend of the elements which matched his personality. Utakata was the same, just with water.

He wondered what that said about him, someone who could use all the elements. Rōshi and Utakata were both cool in their own ways, but the blond didn't want to turn out like them. They both seemed…stuck. Like they'd just accepted whatever had happened to them and grown more bitter and sad with each passing day.

And for Rōshi, that was a lot of days.

But Naruto saw adversity as an opportunity for growth, to be better than he was, to grow stronger than the him of yesterday. That was how he would become the Hokage – by looking forward, not back.

A high-pitched chirping from the nearby trees pulled the blond from his thoughts. He'd gotten used to the sounds of nature over the months of training with the two older Jinchūriki, and nothing he'd heard sounded like the noise echoing through the treetops.

The chirping faded away just as he figured out the direction it was coming from, and he took off at a sprint towards its source. As the foliage around him blurred into indistinct browns and greens, the sounds of battle – as familiar to him now as getting beaten by Rōshi – reached his ears, a cacophony of crashes and yells.

A bright burst of blue-white light from between the trees forced the blond to squint, the shrill chirping sound from before erupting into a fever pitch. Naruto raced forward, stumbling to a halt with blue eyes wide as Uchiha Sasuke – left hand covered in a blinding aura – propelled himself towards a boy with a tan tail and a clawed hand as large as his body covering his right arm. What is that?!

The pair met in midair, momentum carrying them past each other to land on separate tree branches dozens of feet apart. At the same time the strange boy's clawed arm detached from his body, Sasuke collapsed forward, the blue-white light around his hand disappearing with the high-pitched chirping.

Another claw formed along the other boy's left arm, and he dove for Sasuke with a maniacal laugh.

"Katon: Gōkakyū no Jutsu!"

The tan claw spread around the boy as a protective sphere, the Great Fireball Technique breaking apart at the contact. More of the tan substance – it shifted so fluidly, like water, but looked more like dirt – appeared, forming another claw that grabbed the nearest tree bough and allowed the boy to swing around and over, landing in a crouch. His head turned over and glared down, part of his face distorted animalistically with the tan material. Naruto felt a shiver course through him. Shit.

"Naruto?! What are you doing here?"

He turned at the voice, staring up into the treetops. "Sakura-chan?"

"Uchiha…Sasuke!"

"Sakura-chan, get Sasuke outta here! Katon: Gōkakyū no Jutsu!"

Again the fireball was blocked by the tan material, and the same powerlessness Naruto had felt fighting Rōshi the first couple times, when the redhead had let him try his best because he knew it would never be enough, flooded his body. The strange boy kept moving towards his former classmates, and the blond reached out with one hand to forestall the threat in some way.

The claw reaching for his former classmates exploded, spraying small tan particles everywhere. Sand, Naruto realized as it settled in his hair and on his clothes, peppering his skin as wide blue eyes remained fixated on the boy plummeting to the ground. It's sand.

"Naruto, what's going on?!"

"Sakura-chan, just leave! I'll take care of this guy!"

The words spilled from his mouth without thought, but the second they left, he felt his resolve firm itself. This was what being a Hokage was about! I'll protect Sakura-chan and Sasuke…even though I don't know what I did… After all, he'd just sort of gestured toward the claw before it blew up… He stared at his hands in confusion. Maybe 'cause sand is like dirt? So I used Doton?

"NARUTO, WATCH OUT!"

He looked up at Sakura's voice, finding a flurry of sand shuriken coming at him. Reflexively, he brought his arms up in a cross to shield his face from the worst of the damage, but after several seconds, opened his eyes to discover that the projectiles targeting his body had veered off-course and hit the ground at his feet. Eh?

The situation was uncomfortably familiar, and he realized with a jolt that his first fight with Rōshi had gone much the same way, albeit with lava instead of sand. Is he…?

"You…" growled the boy, "how are you doing this?"

I don't know! His eyes darted upwards, finding Sakura frozen in place beside Sasuke.

"Mother, why are you—yes, of course I'll kill him. I'll kill all of them for you…"

The boy's hands were gripping his head, eyes closed in some internal pain, and he was muttering to a person Naruto couldn't see. "Uhh…"

Then bloodshot teal eyes snapped open, a scream echoing from the sand-user's mouth. More sand coalesced around him, creating an appearance more animalistic than human. A single tail – as long and thick around as a small person – coiled around him, blue vein-like markings decorating a tan body comprised entirely of sand. New claws formed along his arms and hands, ending in sharp black tips. He looks kinda like a raccoon. But evil.

"DIE! Fūton: Mugen Sajin – Daitoppa!"

Naruto flipped through seals and slammed his palms on the ground. "Doton: Doroku Gaeshi!"

The earth in front of him broke free from the ground, creating a massive wall that protected him and his former classmates from the assault of wind and sand. Wow, it's huge! He stared at his hands in amazement. Did I do that? His hands curled into fists. I'm really getting stronger.

It was almost a relief to be able to acknowledge it. In training, Rōshi (and to a lesser extent, Utakata) tended to just keep pushing without ever really letting him sit back and admire his progress. Even then, working with the two Jinchūriki was slow; Rōshi didn't pull his punches, but Naruto also wasn't afraid of their fights.

But faced with this boy who seemed to want to kill him, the blond could feel his blood pounding in his ears, adrenaline coursing through his veins. And that made him feel…energized. Like everything he'd learned was snapping into place. The exertion he'd felt when trying to use the Earth Shore Return before was gone.

From his periphery, he could see Sakura in the same spot, still staring at him in shock. "GO!" he yelled. "Get outta—!"

The sound of breaking earth interrupted him, and he turned just in time to see the boy rocketing towards him through his crumbling Earth Shore Return. Naruto yelped as the full force of his opponent's clawed fist slammed into him, sending him careening into a thick tree trunk. Something in his left arm snapped upon impact.

"AHHHHH!"

The claw reached out again, extending from the demonic shinobi and wrapping around his body to hold him against the tree. Pain lanced along his broken arm as the sand constraining him tightened, and he found he could only gasp in a mixture of agony and breathlessness. Not…strong…enough…

The boy drew close, an animalistic nightmare easily twice as large as him. Naruto closed his eyes, willing himself to find calm, to find a way out of this situation he'd gotten into. No…not calm, he decided. Stubborn.

"I don't know how you did what you did," growled the boy, "but it doesn't matter. Once I kill you, I will find Uchiha Sasuke and kill him."

Sand is just earth, and earth will move if I tell it to. Let me go.

Sand coiled around his legs, pulled him from the tree, and cocooned his body.

I did it before. I'm not gonna die here. Let me go! I'm Uzumaki Naruto—

"Sabaku Kyū!"

—and I'm gonna be the next Hokage, BELIEVE IT!

The sand surrounding him exploded outward, and his attacker was propelled back by the shockwave. Naruto landed on the ground with a hiss, broken arm hanging uselessly at his side. He could hear his kunai and shuriken clinking against each other for several seconds, as if quivering in anticipation, and his right hand went to his weapon pouch to silence the metal there. Deft fingers slipped inside and wrapped around the handle of a kunai, pulling it out and holding it defensively in front of him.

His opponent was gripping his head with both claws, shaking it back and forth and muttering to himself. Naruto took a moment to glance up at where Sakura had been standing and found her and Sasuke gone. With a sigh of relief, he turned back to his opponent, wondering how he could beat him. Can I beat him? He didn't want to run away, but given his arm and the other boy's increasingly worrisome bloodlust, he wasn't sure he had any other options.

"—I want to—yes, just to please you, Mother—let me—yes, Mother, of course you can kill the Kyūbi—"

Naruto froze in his retreat, turning around to face the sand-covered creature. "What was that?"

The sand around the boy's hands sloughed away to reveal human fingers which came together in the sign of the Ram. "Tanuki Neiri no Jutsu!"

The Konoha native watched with wide-eyed horror as layers upon layers of sand poured forth from his opponent's body, pulling away from the raccoon-like shell surrounding him to reveal a boy his age with pale skin and hair the color of dried blood. The redhead rose under the mountain of sand, breaking through Konoha's lush canopy amidst a shrill cackle.

By the time he was done growing, Naruto's neck was craned almost vertically upward, mouth agape. A truly massive tanuki towered overhead, easily several hundred feet tall sitting on its haunches, its stout body formed from sand and marked by a design of blue-black scribbles and dots in a seemingly random pattern. From his position on the ground, Naruto could only see dark patches where its eyes were supposed to be, though his own eyes were drawn to the single tail that arched over the creature's head, as long as its body.

That's…that's a Bijū…

Despite how often Rōshi and Utakata mentioned that they were Jinchūriki and that they each housed one of the Tailed Beasts, it had never really occurred to him what that meant. After all, the Kyūbi had been bested by the Yondaime, and the only evidence the blond had seen of it prior to meeting his two teachers had been a single drawing in a history book. But Naruto had always been so focused on the Fourth Hokage in that story that the scale of what he'd been up against had never registered.

I've got that thing inside me? His good hand moved to rest on his stomach. No, worse…that's the Ichibi, and I've got the Kyūbi.

As if to prove his point, the tanuki's head moved, and Naruto found himself frozen by the yellow pinpricks of its eyes. "Yahoo! C'mon, Kyūbi, let's play! It's time I showed you who the strongest really is. Fūton: Renkūdan!"

The Ichibi inhaled before pounding one sandy paw into its stomach, spitting out a ball of compressed air that impacted the surrounding area. Howling winds tore up a half-mile radius of forest, sending fully grown trees flying like toothpicks amidst a storm of green leaves. Naruto shielded his face with his good arm, finding stability with his back against a sturdy tree trunk, wind and debris slicing through his clothes and into exposed skin. How do I fight this thing?!

That he was even considering fighting the massive tanuki was insane. Every instinct in his body screamed to run away, the mere presence of the One-Tail causing his body to vibrate in fear. Against such overwhelming might, what chance did he stand?

He shook his head to rid himself of that fear. Being abandoned by Utakata and Rōshi on their quest for more Jinchūriki made him feel…useless. Like his months of training hadn't accomplished anything, and he was just sitting around, waiting for them to return. But Naruto wasn't patient enough to just sit on his hands, and a Jinchūriki appearing in Konoha was just too perfect. It didn't matter that he was scared, he would befriend the Jinchūriki and prove to his two teachers that he could help in their mission.

Besides, he'd read the story of the Yondaime and the Kyūbi hundreds of times. If the Hokage could beat the Nine-Tails, then a Hokage-to-be could do the same against the One-Tail. It was the ultimate test of his future potential.

Another Drilling Air Bullet blasted through the forest, and this time, Naruto leaped out of its path. The One-Tail released another squeal of maniacal glee, and the blond took to the trees, circling around the massive creature to try to get out of its line of sight. His fire ninjutsu hadn't been effective even before the Ichibi had formed, which meant that it probably wouldn't work any better now. He extended his good arm towards the Tailed Beast, trying to pull the sand from its body and manipulate it like he'd done earlier, but after several seconds of nothing happening, he dropped the limb with a curse.

Utakata-nii was right. I can't control it without training. The Kyūbi does.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are! Fūton: Renkūdan!"

More of the surrounding forest was ripped from its roots and thrown around in a maelstrom of winds that motivated Naruto to push forward, circling the tanuki's stocky body. He eyed the Ichibi's namesake, arched over its head. That's how to get close.

The One-Tail's shrill cackling continued as the blond moved ever closer, Konoha's lush greenery torn asunder around him as the sand demon alternated between celebrating its freedom and screaming for the Kyūbi. Naruto thanked the gods that the Bijū seemed more distracted by blindly firing at its surroundings than actually taking the time to search for him, using his good fortune to creep close enough to leap from a tree to the massive sandy tail. His feet sunk into the sand upon landing, giving him some purchase, though he windmilled his good arm for balance. Made it!

Then the sand around his limbs began to shift. Shit!

He looked up to see the Ichibi's head craned as far back as it could, its jagged mouth smirking at him from over its shoulder. "Heeheehee, you can't sneak up on me! My body, my domain!"

Naruto dropped his good hand so it hung by his lame one, forming messy seals and focusing on the chakra in his belly. "Suiton: Mizurappa!"

Water spewed from his mouth in a strong spray aimed down, washing away the sand that was creeping up around his ankles. Yes!

He took advantage of his freedom, leaping from the tail and landing on the tanuki's rump. Immediately, more sand moved to capture him, twirling around his legs in like a snake. Within seconds, it was up to his waist, his lame hand unreachable beneath silica. Oi, stupid fox! If you want to live, you better give me your power!

Good hand on the sand around his legs, chakra focused on the particulates there, the sand holding him in place sloughed away. "KYŪBI!" howled the Ichibi. "You can't control everything!"

Spires of sand rose up around the blond and then spiked towards him. Naruto tried to deflect the sand away with the Kyūbi's ability, but it continued unimpeded, and he dove away at the last second, earning a gash along his thigh despite his effort. Come on, you giant bastard, help me more than that!

No response was forthcoming, not that he expected any. Temporarily free of any obstacles, he ran towards the tanuki's head, pace hindered by his new injury. A large wall of sand rose up before him, and when Naruto veered to the right, more sand formed to block his path. He expelled another Wild Water Wave at the surrounding silica, and while the inside layer clumped together and sloughed away from the rest, more took its place. He raised a hand to again try to control it, but the sand didn't even slow.

Katon doesn't work, Doton doesn't work, even Suiton won't work anymore. Stupid Kyūbi only helps when it's convenient! I need something stronger…

He only had one other trick, and despite practicing in secret (after Rōshi had shown him once to make up for Utakata's departure), he still hadn't gotten it to work. But he was pissed. And stubborn. And out of options.

Chakra born from his anger coursed through his right arm. His left arm – broken and unmoving – gathered even more. He maneuvered his hands together just as he had for the Wild Water Wave, focusing on his anger and stubbornness, remembering every lesson Rōshi had taught him, the liquid heat that had nearly barbecued him upon their first meeting, the words the red-haired Jinchūriki had yelled at him—

"Yōton: Yōnami!"

White-hot lava spewed from his lips in mimicry of the Mizurappa. It melted a hole in the wall of sand before him, and he darted through the opening with a cry of victory. A yowl of rage sounded out from high above, nearly drowning out the victory his blood was thundering in his ears. Keep going, stay focused, make it to the top, he chanted to himself. He didn't know what he'd find there, but since the sand that made up the Ichibi's body had formed beneath the red-haired shinobi, it made sense that his body would be at the head.

"I'll kill you, Kyūbi!"

Not if I have anything to say about it! Using his uninjured leg, Naruto used a little extra chakra to jump into the air and avoid the claws of sand that reached out from the tanuki's back. He performed a front-flip, spitting out a second Lava Release: Lava Wave at the sand threatening his life. The force of the expulsion blasted him backwards through a cloud of unformed silica until he impacted something hard with a grunt.

Naruto craned his neck from one side to the other to get his bearings, noting the triangular ears on either side. I made it to the head! He almost felt like laughing, but there was no time to sit and ponder his fortune; staying still risked death, and judging by its screams, the Ichibi was as motivated as ever to kill him.

"I feel you up there, Kyūbi! You won't escape me! Sabaku Sōtaisō Fūin!"

Sand swirled around the blond, binding his arms to his sides and his legs together before he could react. The strange black markings that decorated the One-Tail's body crawled along the outside of the cocoon that encased the Leaf Jinchūriki. Kyūbi! Naruto called, his mental voice tremoring with terror. Help me!

Again there was no response, but this time, Naruto felt like he was shouting into an endless void. There was an emptiness inside that he hadn't felt throughout the fight, especially during the moments when he'd controlled sand, and that flooded him with an intense dread. He'd been relying on the fox's powers, on an ability he didn't fully understand, to help win the fight against the Ichibi, because it was important to Utakata to bring the Jinchūriki to their side, but now it seemed Rōshi had been right when he'd said Naruto wasn't ready.

The sand around him constricted, jostling the broken bones in his arm and forcing a protracted yell from his throat. He was in a prison up to his neck, one that kept getting tighter, squeezing the air from his lungs and keeping his body in constant agony. I…I'm dying… His vision swam. Sorry, Utakata-nii…Rōshi-oji…

A flash of red and white blurred across his sight, and then a high-pitched shriek of fury made it to his ears before he blacked out, the pressure on his body slowly dissipating.

Chapter Text

"Fūton: Kazekiri no Jutsu!"

Sand solidified around him, shielding him from the zephyrs. For a brief, quiet moment, he was surrounded by darkness. Alone.

Then spikes of sand lanced out from his defense, impaling, suffocating, crushing every ounce of human flesh within reach. He could feel blood soaking the silica, slaking a week-long thirst.

When the sand returned to the gourd on his back, he was surrounded by the mangled corpses of four Sand ANBU, bones peeking through skin wrinkled from exsanguination. The street was a graveyard, his own soul dead amidst the remains of others laying around him.

Moonlight illuminated the street, yet he still felt completely enshrined in darkness.

Bleary blue eyes opened to clean white walls and a framed picture of purple flowers in a vase. Naruto blinked several times to try to orient himself, turning his head from right to left and spying various machines surrounding his bedside. His focus stopped on one corner of the room, where a tall man wearing a red vest over olive-colored shirt and pants was slumped against the wall, eyes closed and arms crossed over his broad chest. A forehead protector with the kanji for 'oil' held back his wild mane of waist-length, spiky white hair.

There was something vaguely familiar about him, though he was sure he would have remembered seeing someone like him before, and his mind felt too fuzzy to focus. "Oi, ojii-san," he called, voice a rusty croak, "who're you? And where am I?"

The older man's eyes opened and settled on the Jinchūriki. "Well, look who finally decided to wake up. You're in the hospital. Brought you here myself after your fight with the Ichibi. As for who I am…" He leaned off the wall and came to stand before the bed, settling into a sort of theatrical crouch with limbs splayed wide. "I'm Mount Myōboku's holy Toad Sage, the Gallant Jiraiya of the Sannin! And I'm insulted that you think I'm old."

Naruto cocked his head to one side. "Eh? Never heard of you."

"What?! What are they teaching you kids these days?"

"Boring stuff," Naruto told him, attention roaming around the room to better get his bearings. "When can I leave?"

"Look kid, I appreciate your gumption, but you're not goin' anywhere. Your arm's broken, not to mention all the other scrapes you got. The Suna kid sure did a number on you."

Suna kid… And this guy, Jiraiya, he'd said something about bringing him here after his fight with the Ichibi. His head still felt a little fuzzy, making it hard to focus on everything he was being told. Can't think straight… "Where is he?"

"Who?"

"That kid you mentioned. From Suna."

Jiraiya arched an eyebrow. "Jail, obviously. He's a prisoner of war."

Naruto sat fully upright, angry blue eyes focused on his fists, which were clenched around the bed sheets. "Damn it!"

"Whoa whoa whoa, hold up there, kid." Jiraiya's hand pressed down on his shoulder, forcing the agitated blond back into his bed. "You're pretty energetic for someone who nearly died. You got somewhere better to be?"

"I've gotta…get back to training." The reason came out thin, grasping for words that would make more sense than the actual reason. "I'm not…I wasn't strong enough…" He trailed off, the weight of his loss and helplessness in the face of the sand demon a tangible thing. That, at least, was true. A sudden wave of disorientation hit him, forcing him to close his eyes.

"Hmm…" Jiraiya glanced between the downcast blond and the closed window. "Tell you what, kid. I've got a mission that'll take me out of the village for a bit. You agree to come with me, I'll spring you from this place and give you some personal training. I've got some pretty cool jutsu I can teach you. How 'bout it?"

Blue eyes opened to slits and scrutinized Jiraiya. Naruto took a moment to gather his thoughts, fighting the pull of the drugs being pumped into his system, and then twitched the shoulder of his broken arm as if to bring the white-haired man's attention to it. "How can I learn jutsu if I can't use my arm?"

"A truly magnificent shinobi won't let himself be handicapped by something so mundane," Jiraiya admonished boisterously. Soberly, he continued, "But I've got a cool jutsu for you that only needs one hand to learn, if you're up for it."

"Really? That'd be awesome!" Then he frowned. "But only if the Suna kid can come, too."

Jiraiya's brow furrowed. "Kid, do you have any idea what you're asking? Not only is Gaara the Ichibi Jinchūriki, but he's the youngest son of the late Kazekage, and the lynchpin of the biggest attack Konoha's weathered since the Kyūbi. He's also been diagnosed as a narcissist with severe sociopathic tendencies. You're talking about a textbook political P.O.W., and an unstable one at that. Even if I could get him released, why would I ever bring him with us?"

"You wouldn't get it."

The older man leaned forward, hands gripping the bed rails. Dark eyes bore into blue, the red lines trailing from beneath them framing a mouth set in a flat line. "Try me. I'm a pretty smart guy."

Naruto hesitated, unsure how to respond. Jiraiya was a complete stranger, and even though he seemed kind, especially compared to the experiences he'd had with people growing up, Utakata and Rōshi had told him not to say anything about them, and he wanted to keep that promise. Besides, even if he wanted to, he wasn't sure what he'd say. Utakata and Rōshi had never really made him privy to their plan; all he knew was that they needed the Jinchūriki to help the Mizukage, and that meant they needed the Suna-nin. Gaara, he reminded himself. "I can help him," he asserted with more confidence than he felt.

Trepidation rocked his body, the lull of his medications temporarily overridden as Jiraiya continued to stare at him. There was something in the Sannin's gaze, like he was looking into the blond's soul, reading every miniscule twitch of his face for a hint to his secrets. Naruto gulped. He knows I'm lying!

Then Jiraiya threw back his head and let out a loud belly laugh. "You've got guts, kid! I like that." He opened his eyes and gave the boy a wide grin. "Lemme see what I can do. Not only am I smart, but I'm pretty resourceful when I want to be."

"Uh…okay."

"Oh ho, you doubt my greatness? I'll just have to prove myself then." He walked over to the window, opened it, stuck one leg out, and made sure to turn around – body crouched over the frame – to toss the blond a devil-may-care grin. "See you soon!"

Naruto found he could only blink as the older man disappeared from view. Then, with nothing better to do, he relaxed back against the hospital pillows and closed his eyes. What a weirdo.

Grey stone walls and dank, stale air surrounded him. It was ironic, a prison in human form contained in an actual prison.

Or it would have been if he actually understood irony.

I am…bored.

It was strange that he suddenly found himself with time – or more accurately, with clarity – to consider that thought. For so long, he'd been plagued with seeking out the next victim to validate his existence, the voice in his head helping to guide him along, but now, that voice was undeniably silent.

I am…alone. He cocked his head to the side, considering that thought. No. Lonely.

For someone who was used to being isolated, it was a strange feeling.

The creak of metal made its way to his ears, the click-clack of wood on stone echoing within the prison's walls. A shadow fell over his cell, but he ignored it; he was used to the guards' routine of dropping off food, checking to make sure he was still alive, and then leaving.

"Well aren't you a sad sight."

He raised his head at the voice, finding a large man with long white hair and a red vest standing in front of his cell, arms crossed over his chest. "You are not a guard."

"Got it in one, kid. We weren't formally introduced at our last encounter; probably something to do with the giant sand tanuki taking over your body and hijacking your conscious. Name's Jiraiya. Normally got a whole routine I do to wow the kids, but this place is kinda gloomy, and you don't seem like you're all that easy to impress, are you, Sabaku no Gaara?"

Gaara continued to stare at his visitor, expression flat and unmoving. "Tough crowd," Jiraiya muttered. He took a step closer to the cell, letting his arms fall to his side. "Good news, kid. I'm gonna get you outta this place." At the boy's lack of reaction, the Sannin arched an eyebrow. "You don't appear too enthused."

"You curry no good will by freeing me. The Kazekage does not look favorably upon useless weapons."

"Well first off, the Kazekage's dead, so his opinion means squat." He paused, as if to give Gaara time to react to the news of his father's death, but if the Sand Genin was surprised, he didn't show it. "Second, it's not my job to try to please Suna. If you think Konoha would let me negotiate your release for that, you're…well, I was gonna say crazy, but that seems kind of insensitive. Apt though." Gaara's stoicism remained impregnable, and Jiraiya scratched the side of his head. "Oooor you don't care. Whatever. Naruto won't go with me unless you come along, so along you're coming."

Gaara blinked. "Who is Naruto?"

"The blond brat you fought against in the forest." A flicker of emotion finally crossed the Suna-nin's face, his pupil-less teal eyes narrowing in irritation. Ah ha, so you are capable of emotion. Interesting. "Strange that he'd ask you to come along when you don't seem to know each other, hm?"

"…You would trust me to accompany you and…Naruto?" The name was foreign on his lips, but now that he knew it, it echoed throughout every quiet corner of his mind, a mantra that ignited a new fire in his veins. The way his mother had shrieked about killing the resilient blond…Gaara hadn't felt that much rage and bloodlust in ages. Even his obsession with Uchiha Sasuke didn't compare. Naruto…I will kill you.

"Hah! Hardly. I'm assuming you've figured out by now that there's something wrong with your chakra. You should know that I'm the reason for that." Chakra lit up along his fingertips, which he waved at the imprisoned boy. "Nasty little sealing technique. Even works on Jinchūriki.

"Yeah," he continued at the slight widening of Gaara's eyes, "I know all about you. So don't think you'll be able to do anything you're used to while we're together. Trust me, kid, however good you think you are, you're not as good as me. Got it?" He didn't receive an answer – not that he expected one – and continued by clapping his hands once, rubbing them together as if scheming something. "So, now that we're on the same page"—he grinned slightly when the Suna-nin finally acknowledged their arrangement with the barest of head nods—"let's get you outta here."

"Alright—"

Naruto jolted awake, looking around the room in a mild panic.

"—let's go!"

"Uh—wha?" Blue eyes finally found Jiraiya crouched outside the open window on… What's he standing on? "What's going on?"

"I've got your friend right here." Something long, pinkish-red, and wet – Is that a tongue?! – appeared in his view, wrapped around a figure wearing an unamused expression and possessing hair the color of dried blood. It disappeared from view, and Jiraiya hopped into the hospital room. "Told you I'm resourceful. So, since I did you that favor, you're comin' with now, yeah? 'Cause we got…not a whole lotta time."

"Uh, I guess?"

Jiraiya beamed. "Great!" He strode over to the bedridden boy and grabbed the central line in the crook of Naruto's arm. With careful fingers, he pulled it out, then began unhooking the pulse oximeter and any other lines connected to the blond. Beeps and whines from the surrounding hospital equipment filled the room, and the Sannin quickly scooped Naruto over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. The door to the room opened, and a nurse entered. She seemed frozen at the sight before her, and Jiraiya shot her a quick glance before announcing, "That's our cue."

He jumped out the window amidst the nurse's yelling, and from his downward-facing position, Naruto got a view of a giant toad's warty head rising up to meet him. The blond grunted upon landing, though it was drowned out by Jiraiya's yelled, "Let's go!"

The toad they were on leaped away from the hospital, landing hundreds of feet away in an empty training field. Jiraiya set Naruto on his feet in the moment of stillness, but he fell over when the amphibian again jumped, bringing them into the Land of Fire's vast forest. The toad's tongue came up and deposited a slimy Gaara – lips turned down in annoyance – beside the blond. "Hold on tight, kiddos," Jiraiya advised. He stood with feet splayed wide, arms crossed over his chest, waist-length white hair whipping in the wind. Naruto stared at him with a slack jaw, awed by the older man's powerful presence, a ship's captain staring out at the vast sea. "This'll be a bumpy ride."

Naruto leaned back on his hands, not trusting himself to find steady footing, and winced when too much pressure was put on his broken arm. "Where're we goin'?"

"To find the next Hokage."

"Eh? Why? Did something happen to Hokage-jii-san?"

Jiraiya angled his head so he was facing the blond. His expression was the most somber Naruto had seen in their short interactions so far. "The Sandaime was killed during the Suna-Oto invasion." Shock pulsed through Naruto's body, his mind suddenly blank at the revelation. It must have been visible on his face, for the Sannin turned to face forward again to avoid looking at him. "I'm sorry you had to find out like this. The hospital's been short-staffed and overworked since the invasion, and some of the higher-ups thought it prudent to keep you under sedation because of the Kyūbi."

Unable to process all the information, Naruto latched on to the last thing Jiraiya had said, asking in a strained voice, "The Kyūbi?"

"People fear what they don't understand, kid. Fear leads to stupid, often irrational, decisions. And the Kyūbi…well, I'm sure you already know all about that. You and your friend there."

Naruto looked at the redhead, as if suddenly remembering he was there. Gaara stared back, expression intense yet unreadable. There seemed to be no soul in his gaze, and he forced himself to turn back to the Sannin. "What, uh…" There were too many questions in his mind – questions about the Sandaime, about the invasion, their mission, Gaara – that he couldn't focus on getting out any of them.

"New Hokage's name is Tsunade," Jiraiya announced. He seemed to have realized Naruto's state and was trying to answer as many of the boy's unspoken questions as possible. "We used to be teammates, but she's retired now."

The singular line of thought broke through his haze, and Naruto asked, "Retired? Then how's she gonna be Hokage?"

Jiraiya tossed him a grin. "I've got a plan. Don't worry, she'll come back. Mark my words."

They fell silent as the toad continued to leap through the Land of Fire, both consumed with their thoughts. Emotionless teal eyes flickered between the blond boy and the white-haired man's back, studying them. Gaara flexed his hand, trying to summon a trace amount of sand from his gourd. No particulates responded, and the corners of his lips turned down in an unnoticed frown. Hmm…

"You said you had a cool jutsu I could learn with one hand."

"So I did," Jiraiya agreed. The trio – their toad escort had been released back to wherever it came from – was settled in a clearing deep within the Land of Fire, the late afternoon sun filtering through the treetops. Naruto fidgeted while watching Jiraiya, enjoying the combination of warmth tempered by a slight breeze even as he waited for the older man's instruction. "Watch this."

He held out his hand, and after a moment, a sphere of swirling chakra the size of a large orange formed in his palm. The blue of Jiraiya's chakra matched the blue of Naruto's wide eyes as he stared in amazement at the technique. "The Rasengan," announced the Sannin. "Recognize it?" Naruto shook his head. "Honestly, what are they teaching you kids these days? This is one of the Yondaime's signature jutsu."

"Coool! What's it do?"

Instead of responding, Jiraiya walked over to a nearby tree and thrust the Rasengan into it. The crunch of splintering bark filled the area, followed by the creak of the falling foliage. Once the tree was grounded, the Sannin turned to the blond and said, "That's as good as you'll get, unless you want to volunteer to experience it firsthand." Naruto shook his head in rigorous denial, though his eyes remained enthusiastically bright. Jiraiya tossed the boy a water balloon. "Start with this."

"What do I do with it?"

"Pop it, obviously. Use your chakra. Don't get discouraged if you don't get it right away; it took the Yondaime three years to create the Rasengan, and it took me months to learn it using this method." He waved a lazy hand through the air as he walked in the direction of the village they'd seen before settling down. "I'll check in on your progress later. Gonna go do some reconnaissance in the meantime. Have fun!"

He disappeared in a swirl of leaves, and the Jinchūriki was left shouting to no one, "Months?!"

Naruto grumbled into the open air when it became apparent that Jiraiya could no longer hear him, nonsensical mutterings that only served to vent his annoyance. It was a habit he'd picked up from Rōshi, who'd often taken to grousing to himself (especially when Utakata tried a gentler approach) during the earlier days of their training, and mimicking it eased the sudden resurgence of abandonment he felt.

Breathing deeply to soothe his irritation, just as Utakata had taught him, he focused on the task at hand. Thinking of the older Jinchūriki reminded him that he'd undergone months of training to get to where he was currently, and neither demon container had yet officially begun training him in their respective Bijū powers. If he could hold out for that, then he could do the same for learning the Rasengan.

In. Out. "There's water inside," he murmured, his chakra probing the balloon. Using the lessons Utakata had taught him, he manipulated the water's shape, swirling it around within the confines of the balloon. It's easier like this. Water was normally so untamable, especially since he was used to practicing with the unyielding flow of the river, that concentrating enough to perform fine manipulations like the Kiri-nin could was a struggle. Here, with only a small amount of water stuck in an unmoving, unchanging package, focusing was easy.

Water swirled within the balloon, an unseen vortex that caused the whole thing to shake in his palm. His tongue poked out between his lips, brow furrowing in concentration. "C'mon, c'mon…" He worked his chakra in the water, forcing it into a tumultuous maelstrom. Seconds later, the balloon exploded from the internal pressure, soaking Naruto's face with water. "HA, yes!"

"You accomplished that quickly."

Naruto jumped, head whipping around to find Gaara standing not 10 feet away. The redhead was so quiet that the blond kept forgetting he was on the mission, especially since Jiraiya almost effortlessly pulled all attention to himself. "Yeah, uh, thanks." Awkwardness filled the silence, and the Leaf native suddenly became aware of how strange it was to be in such close proximity to someone who, upon last recollection, had been seconds away from killing him. "So, uh, how're you doin'?"

Teal eyes continued to stare at him. Naruto repressed a shiver, finding nothing in the other boy's expression except the cold, uncaring promise of death. "Why do you care?" he finally asked, tone as dry as the desert he hailed from.

"Because…we're the same, y'know?" Naruto turned his gaze away from the redhead, unable to maintain eye contact any longer, and instead focused on fiddling with the broken pieces of rubber remaining in his hand. "You're a Jinchūriki, I'm a Jinchūriki…" he trailed off, suddenly aware that he knew nothing else about the redhead. With a tinge of hope in his voice, he asked, "Isn't that enough?"

"No." His tone left no room for argument. "I am alone, a product of darkness. Just me…and Mother." His brow furrowed, and he stared at his hands, turning them over to examine both sides, flexing fingers keeping his attention. "And now it is just me." Tiny particulates of sand hovered around his fingers. "There is nothing in caring for others, and in killing you, I will prove my existence."

"You're wrong!" Naruto clenched his trembling fists and held them rigidly at his side. "Everything I've learned, I learned from people I care about! They're Jinchūriki just like us, and they're the reason I was able to beat you! Why I can do this!" He held out his hand, gesturing to the broken balloon. "They care about me; they're the most important people in my life!"

Gaara was clutching his head with both hands. He shook it back and forth, seemingly caught in the throes of some personal nightmare. "Shut up," he growled. "Caring causes weakness. I will be strong. I will kill you!"

Naruto thought of his life, how alone he'd felt before Utakata and Rōshi had discovered him and taken him under their wings. The crippling loneliness, the lack of anyone to push him towards his dream…it was easy to see how Gaara had turned out the way he had. Rōshi hadn't been all that different at the beginning. Did Rōshi-oji and Utakata-nii feel like that? "You're wrong," he told Gaara, conviction strong in his voice, "and I'll prove it to you."

He held out his hand for Gaara to shake, hoping the other boy would bridge the gap and take it, a show of camaraderie. The redhead stared at the proffered appendage for a long moment, scrutinizing it, and then turned and walked away from the blond. Naruto watched him go, a forlorn expression crossing his features. Maybe next time.

Gaara watched from his seated position on the ground as Naruto struggled with the task he'd been given. Jiraiya had been visibly shocked to discover the blond's success with the water balloon when he'd returned after his reconnaissance, though he'd quickly schooled his features and tossed his pupil a rubber ball with instructions to pop it and a warning that it would be much harder than the balloon.

That had been a week ago, and Naruto's frustration was apparent.

I understand your pain.

His hands paused in their movements as he considered the thought, his practice interrupted. The cloud of sand particles floating in the air around him fell to the ground, free of his influence, and he frowned at his lapse. While Naruto was dealing with trying to break the rubber ball, the Suna-nin's free time was spent trying to regain the control of his sand that Jiraiya's seal had apparently shut down.

The process was arduous, painfully so, but over the hours and days of travel and training, his power had slowly but surely returned. It was fractional, nowhere near what he was used to, but it was coming back. For once in his life, Gaara was struggling, and in watching – observing, studying – Naruto's plight, he felt…kinship.

…Strange. The last time he'd felt anything close to this was in his meetings with Uchiha Sasuke, but there the connection had been emotionless. In Sasuke, he'd seen only the same desire to prove himself, to be the best by destroying the opposition. But now Gaara was as powerless as he'd ever been, neutered by the meddlesome Jiraiya, and watching someone he'd marked for death struggle against the odds was…invigorating.

He waited for the call in his mind, the voice of Mother, excitedly urging him to relish in the thrill of his victim's futility, but it never came, and the redhead was once again reminded of how alone he was. For years, he'd listened to Mother's voice, ranging from whispers to shrieks, and because of that, he'd never noticed the solitude. And before her, he'd had—

Yashamaru…

Gaara gripped his head with both hands, teal eyes closing to shut out the images that flashed before them. His uncle's kind, violet eyes and sad smile invaded the darkness behind his eyelids, the memory of the man's voice echoing in his head. "There is only one thing that can stop such heartache. As inconvenient as it may seem, this cure can only be given by people other than yourself…"

"…What is it?"

"It's love!"

"Shut up," he whispered.

A hand landed on his shoulder. "Hey, are you okay?"

Teal eyes snapped open, and Gaara threw out a hand that smacked a tan arm away, rasping in a panicked voice, "Go away!"

A small ball of sand formed between them and then burst, specks of grit striking Naruto's chest. The force was just enough to push the blond away but not injure him. Gaara stared at the spot where the other Jinchūriki's hand had been, unable to appreciate the small display of control over his abilities. "You…touched me."

"Well…yeah. You looked like you were in pain."

"Pain?"

He held a hand to his heart. "Although it doesn't bleed, this part hurts so much…"

"Bodies bleed upon physical injuries, and they may look quite painful…but eventually, the pain will wear off as time passes, and they can heal faster with medical aids. What are more serious are emotional scars…they are the hardest to heal."

"Emotional scars?"

"Physical and emotional scars are a bit different…unlike physical ones, there's no ointment available for emotional ones…and pain may never go away…"

No one had touched him since that day…since Yashamaru had taught him about pain and love and then ripped that all away in a single instance of vengeful fire. The Sand Armor that protected him, and his thirst for death, made it so that no one tried. That someone had – some strange boy he'd sworn to kill – was…anomalous. Inexplicable. "I do not feel pain," he said, voice robotic, gaze cast into the distance. "I feel nothing but love for myself, and hatred for others."

"That sounds sad."

Gaara turned his head away, unable to continue keeping the blond with the empathetic blue eyes in his field of vision. …It is.

"You know…you don't have to be alone." Naruto's voice was quiet. Somber. "I know people like you, like us…we were sad, too. But now that we have each other, we're happy. Uh, well, happier, anyway. Caring about other people and having people that care about you is a good thing."

Gaara closed his eyes again in an attempt to block out the understanding in the other boy's voice. "Shut up and leave me alone."

"If you're sure… I'm here if you want to talk, though." Naruto turned and began to walk away, but then he snapped his fingers and rushed back to the redhead. "Hey, how'd you do that sand ball thing? Can you show me?!"

The redhead turned a confused expression to the blond. "Sand…ball?"

"Yeah! The, uh, you know"—he moved his good hand so it was close to the broken one held in place by a sling at chest level, then quickly pulled them apart and imitated an explosion—"poh! That thing you just did."

Stunned by the request, by the idea that he'd somehow made more progress with regaining his sand manipulation while in a fit of madness than during a week of focused practice, the Suna-nin lifted his hand and summoned sand to his palm. A ball of silica slowly formed until it was roughly the size of an apple. He stared at it for a long moment, brow furrowed, and in his mind's eye, he pictured the sphere exploding.

The sand ball obeyed, bursting outwards in every direction. Naruto's gaze flickered from the redhead's now-empty palm to the particulates falling to the ground. "Huh…you can make it go in all directions at once," he muttered. "Like how Utakata-nii does, but he uses water. And you use sand. Here it's just air. I can't do anything with air. Can I just use chakra? Jiraiya used chakra, so it's gotta be possible…"

Gaara watched as the Kyūbi Jinchūriki walked away, mumbling to himself all the while. He also talks to himself…

And for the second time that day, he felt kinship with the blond.

"Rrrr, damn it!"

"Your persistence is impressive."

"Like you're one to talk," Jiraiya interjected, "practicing your sand jutsu day in and day out. Where's it gotten you?"

Gaara scowled at the older man, reaching out towards him with one hand. A small stream of sand flowed out of the gourd of his back and reached for the Sannin. Jiraiya swatted away the attempted assault and laughed. "Well, aren't we cheeky today?" Then he grew serious. "But see what continued practice gets you?"

The redhead turned away from the older man and instead focused on the hustle and bustle of Tanzaku Gai in an effort to ignore him. People were everywhere, hawking street food and wares, talking to one another, flowing in and out of different establishments, and Gaara found it all to be too much. While not the size of the Hidden Sand, it certainly felt more crowded, doubly so from the street itself as opposed to an open rooftop where his reputation guaranteed him solitude and, more importantly, space.

With only limited control over his sand and Mother's whisperings absent in his mind, the Sand Genin felt more on edge than usual, uncomfortable in a confined space with no way to escape or create his own path out.

"Hey—"

Gaara twitched, startled by the voice, and swiveled to find Naruto walking beside him.

"—are you doin' okay? You don't look so good."

He stared at the blond, teal meeting blue, neither breaking eye contact. Discomfort roiled in the Suna-nin's gut at Naruto's concerned gaze; he hadn't seen someone look at him with such care since Yashamaru. Most other people would have backed down or averted their eyes when confronted by his intense stare, but this boy…his strength of will was beyond what Gaara was used to.

He turned away from the blond, fixing his sight straight ahead and muttering, "People…there are too many people…" As he spoke, he realized his hands were shaking, the quivering feeling in his gut spreading throughout the rest of his body. "I cannot…no control…"

"Uh, Jiraiya—"

But the Sannin had already turned and grabbed the red-haired Jinchūriki, throwing him over his shoulder and leaping to the nearest rooftop. When the Sannin's actions registered, Naruto followed him, finding the older man setting Gaara down and then stepping away. He threw out a hand when Naruto landed. "Stay back, kid, give him some room."

"What—"

"He's having a panic attack," Jiraiya explained, voice quiet but hurried. "He's grown up in isolation most of his life, this place might be too much for him. And let me tell you, kid, the last thing we need is him losing control in the middle of the town."

"We need to help him!"

"Even sealed, it's dangerous to get near an unstable Jinchūriki—Naruto!"

The blond was creeping closer to the Suna-nin, every step wary of the sand that was rising around the redhead in protective strips. It did nothing but float in the air as Gaara trembled in place, muttering to himself. Naruto rushed the last several steps towards the other boy and placed both hands upon his shoulders, wincing as his injured arm protested the motion. Gaara's wild eyes rooted him in place, and Naruto swallowed hard, realizing that he'd once again stepped into a situation with the Ichibi Jinchūriki that he was sorely prepared for. "Gaara…you need to calm down.

"I know…" he licked dry lips, pushing through the fear and forcing himself to continue, "I know what it's like to be beaten down by people. They don't get people like us, and that sucks, but you can get through this. 'Cause there are people who we can be around…other Jinchūriki, people like you and me, people who make life worth it. You don't always have to be scared of people, trust me. But you gotta calm down. Please."

Slowly, Gaara's breathing evened out, his eyes returned to their normal, flat gaze, and the sand floating in the air around him lost cohesion and dropped to the ground. Naruto let his arms fall to his sides, sliding his wounded arm back into its sling as the redhead rose to his feet. Gaara shot him a brief glance and exhaled a quiet, unsure, "…Thank you…"

Naruto smiled at him, suddenly hopeful. "You're welcome."

"Damn, kid," Jiraiya exclaimed, "you've got balls of steel. Maybe not a lot of brains, but balls for sure."

"Eh, thanks?"

"Why don't you two stay here for a bit, hm?" the Sannin suggested. "So long as you promise to play nice, anyway. You haven't killed each other so far, so I think it'll be okay." He glanced between the pair. "Right?"

"Yeah, we'll be okay."

Jiraiya nodded. "Then I leave you to it. I'll be back soon." And then he was gone.

Naruto glanced around as the smoke from Jiraiya's Shunshin dissipated, finding Gaara standing at the roof's ledge and looking down at the city below. He approached the redhead and stood beside him at a respectable distance, shooting the other boy a quick side-eye. "You're, uh, not gonna jump or anything, right?"

"No," came the flat reply. He turned to grace the blond with the full brunt of his dead-eyed stare. "What do you want from me?"

"What?"

"You are…present. Constantly. You remind me of someone who…cared." He frowned, the concept of caring utterly foreign. "Caring is for people who love each other, but I tried to kill you. Your death would prove my existence, yet…" He turned back to the street below, unwilling to finish the thought. "You do not make sense to me."

"You can care about anyone!" Naruto protested. "Family, friends—"

"I have no friends."

"I'm your friend!" He fought the urge to wither under Gaara's unblinking stoicism, instead meeting the redhead's teal eyes with his jaw set at a stubborn angle. "Listen to me, damn it! Maybe all that crap is true – maybe you do suck at caring and, yeah, you tried to kill me – but that doesn't matter! That's all in the past. We've gotta look out for each other now. And in the future! Because I care about you, and you're my friend, and that's what friends do, believe it!"

Gaara didn't respond in the face of the blond's tirade, staring at the other boy unblinkingly. Finally, he said, "You know nothing about me."

"You're a Jinchūriki, like me," Naruto asserted. "That's all I need to know."

Gaara let out a snort and returned his gaze to the hustle of Tanzaku Gai below, finding he had nothing to say in response to the blond's optimistic authority.

"C'mon, c'mon…"

Naruto focused intently on the rubber ball in his hand as it swelled and bulged under the influence of his chakra. He poured more energy into the sphere, willing it to move in every direction imaginable, until it finally exploded with a violent burst of air. "Hell yeah!"

Taking deep breaths to calm himself from his victory, the blond glanced over at Gaara to see if the redhead had any reaction to his success. The Suna-nin seemed content to remain where he was, staring out over the town from their rooftop vantage point.

He sighed at the lack of response, wishing not for the first time that Utakata was around to offer his usual dose of measured praise. The day after Gaara's panic attack, Jiraiya had deemed it best for them to remain behind while he continued to work on persuading Tsunade – whom he'd apparently found – to take up the mantle of Hokage. In turn, Gaara had opted to spend most of his time outside the claustrophobic hotel room, taking up station on the roof where he could watch the city in stoic silence.

It wasn't all that different from how the past several weeks had gone, except now Naruto kept catching the redhead staring at him. The looks were…odd. Naruto didn't feel like Gaara was seeing him as a piece of meat anymore, but what he did see, the blond couldn't say. The Suna-nin was harder to read than Rōshi, albeit trading the Iwa-nin's grumpiness for sheer apathy.

"Jiraiya has returned."

"Really?" Naruto bounded over to his fellow Jinchūriki, peering down over the roof's ledge to spy the older man's white hair on the street below. "He's back early." He jumped down to greet his mentor, yelling, "Jiraiya, I did it! I—hey, you don't look so good."

"Tsunade," Jiraiya grunted. "Damn stubborn woman drugged me. She's gonna do something stupid. Come on, I know where she's staying."

Naruto nodded feverishly, Jiraiya's tone conveying the urgency of the situation. "Gotcha. Hey Gaara, let's go!"

He looked up to see if the Suna-nin would acknowledge him, receiving a curt head bob in reply. Naruto grinned, following behind Jiraiya with a skip in his step that appeared contrary to the older man's doddering trudge. As the Sannin led him through the city, Naruto shot periodic glances at the rooftops, making sure that Gaara was still following along. Each flash of short blood-red hair caused his grin to grow. I think he's comin' around!

Jiraiya halted in front of a five-story hotel that appeared unremarkable compared to the others around it. "Third floor, second window." They leaped up to the balcony, and the Sannin let out a curse as he looked through the glass. "Damn it, Tsunade." He pounded one fist against the glass and yelled, "Shizune!"

A woman with short, dark hair began to stir from her prone position on the carpeted floor. Naruto watched her rise slowly, bringing a hand up to cradle her head. When she finally looked in their direction, she blinked twice, then asked, "Jiraiya-sama?"

"Let us in, Shizune." The woman hurried to obey, unlocking the door and letting the pair inside the room. "Where's Tsunade?"

Shizune shook her head. "I tried to stop her, but she wouldn't listen! She—"

"Went to see Orochimaru," Jiraiya finished. At Shizune's surprised expression, the Sannin waved away her shock. "Yeah, I know about that. Former teammates, I kinda know how he thinks. And how Tsunade thinks. What I don't know is the specifics, or where. She. Is."

"I can take you to her."

"Great. But first, can you heal me? Tsunade drugged me, and it's affecting my chakra and motor skills. And since I might be fighting both Orochimaru and Tsunade, I need to be in peak condition."

"I…I'm sorry, Jiraiya-sama, but I can't. Tsunade-sama's the only one with the skills to reverse the effects of her poisons."

"Damn it!" He glanced down at Naruto, who was scrutinizing Shizune with a critical eye, trying to follow a conversation he didn't understand. "Can you fix the kid's arm then? I have a feeling I'm gonna need all the help I can get."

Shizune hesitated, dark eyes flashing towards the surprised blond. "Yes, but…is it wise to bring someone so young into this fight?"

"No, but I don't seem to have any better options. And it's gonna get worse," he muttered while Shizune knelt down and applied healing chakra to the blond's arm, the pair introducing themselves to each other. "Gaara!" he shouted. "Get in here!" The Suna-nin alighted soundlessly on the balcony, staring at the older man with arms crossed over his chest. "I don't trust you, and you don't trust me. But right now, I need your strength.

"I can't unseal you, but I've been watching you. Your chakra is still there, and so is your power. You can control it if you put your mind to it. In spite of everything, I'm hoping that you're willing to use that power to help me. So…please help me."

Naruto's gaze was fixated on the redhead as he digested Jiraiya's plea. This was the ultimate test of whether the Suna-nin had really absorbed any of the words he'd tried to impart over the last month. That he'd listened to the Sannin at all was a drastic improvement.

After a long period of silence, Gaara finally asked, "Can I kill them?"

Jiraiya smirked. "You're welcome to try."

"Then I accept."

"Great. Shizune, is the kid ready?"

"Yes, Jiraiya-sama."

"Then let's go."

Jiraiya jumped out the window and was followed by Shizune, Naruto, and then Gaara. The two Jinchūriki stayed together behind the older pair as they leaped from one rooftop to the next, Shizune overtaking the Sannin in order to lead the quartet. Naruto ignored the pair's conversation, choosing instead to shoot curious glances at the Suna-nin while flexing his hand and rotating his now-healed arm. Feels good as new… Blue eyes flickered to Shizune's back. Medical shinobi are awesome. He shot another look at Gaara before asking, "How come you decided to help?"

"Killing strong people verifies my existence," intoned the redhead. "If Jiraiya feels he needs help to combat this threat, then the enemy must be worthwhile."

"Oh…"

"Did you expect a different response?"

"I dunno, I thought maybe you thought about what I've been sayin'."

Gaara's teal eyes locked with his in a dull stare. "Your words are meaningless."

"Your words are meaningless!" Naruto shouted in frustration. "Life's hard, but it won't get better unless you try! Try, damn it!"

"Naruto!" Jiraiya snapped. His head was turned to face the pair of Jinchūriki, attracted by the blond's raised voice. "Now's not the time. I need both of you at the top of your game right now, which means no distractions." Naruto lapsed into silence at the reprimand, a flush of shame and anger coloring his face. With his words apparently taking effect, the Sannin added in a sober voice, "And you should realize that…some people just can't change."

The quartet was silent after that, each member consumed by his or her own thoughts, until they reached an older section of town partitioned by stone walls. Naruto gaped at the destruction that greeted them, pieces of rubble from broken wall segments strewn about the area. Scattered craters and fissures scarred the ground. "What—"

Jiraiya whistled. "Damn, something pissed Tsunade-hime off, that's for sure."

"Do you think she refused Orochimaru then?" Shizune asked, voice hopeful.

"Your guess is as good as mine. Either way, it's even more imperative that we find her, and fast. Where would they have gone?"

"I don't—oh, Tonton!"

The small pig Shizune had been carrying around jumped out of her arms with a squeal and sniffed at a green haori with the kanji for 'gamble' imprinted in a red circle that was discarded on the ground. She – Naruto guessed by the pearl necklace (Why does a pig need a necklace? he wondered) – made another sound and gestured to the north. "Seems like we have a heading," Jiraiya said. "Lead the way!"

They took off again, Shizune grabbing Tonton and leading them by the gestures and squeals the pig made. Tonton's nose led them to a field of grass on the outskirts of town, sparse rocks decorating the landscape. Moving around the area trading and evading blows were an ample-bosomed woman with blonde hair and a grey-haired male clad in dark purple; observing them from a distance was a tall, lithe figure with straight, waist-length dark hair. "This is better than I expected," Jiraiya commented.

"We need to help her." Shizune's voice held a lilt of panic, a register Naruto vaguely recognized from when Utakata started to freak out about something Yagura-related.

"Agreed. And we need to go now," Jiraiya added, disappearing from view as the grey-haired shinobi was preparing to impale an immobile Tsunade with a kunai. Shizune and the two Jinchūriki performed their own Body Flickers, appearing in the midst of a cloud of smoke created by Jiraiya. When the haze cleared, the point of the kunai was embedded in a small shield of sand that had formed in front of Tsunade.

The grey-haired male let out a noise of detached curiosity. "Hm? Well this is a new development." Sand slithered up the kunai and attempted to engulf his arm, but he jumped backwards before it could get a grip. "Oh Gaara-kun, you're so eager."

Three heads turned to look at the Suna-nin. "Gaara, you know this guy?" Naruto asked.

"No."

"Ah, Gaara-kun, your memory is so short," lamented the older shinobi. "We were just in the Chūnin Exams together."

Gaara's expression remained unchanged. "I am only interested in killing the strong to prove my existence. You must therefore be weak."

The grey-haired shinobi tilted his head down so that the sunlight flashed against his glasses, momentarily hiding his eyes. "Is that what you think?"

"Move!" Jiraiya shouted, grabbing Tsunade and backpedaling with Shizune. Naruto was so startled by the command that he wasn't able to react in time, and he stood transfixed as the older male closed the distance between himself and Gaara in the blink of an eye, slamming a palm coated in blue chakra into the redhead's shoulder.

Right where Uchiha Sasuke's hand had pierced his skin a month ago.

Gaara screamed as his muscles, ligaments, and nerves were shredded by medical chakra. Sand exploded from the gourd on his back and forced his assailant away. "Pain!" he shrieked. "Mother, why is there pain?!"

"Oh, Gaara-kun," sibilated the pale man, watching from afar. His voice was smooth and silky, venomous sadism tinging every word. "You've never known what it's like to be hurt until now. First Sasuke-kun, now Kabuto…how the mighty have fallen."

"Orochimaru, you son of a bitch!" Jiraiya shouted. "Is this all a game to you? Trying to manipulate an insane Jinchūriki to enact your machinations?"

"Jiraiya, you always think so small. Do you even know what my plans are?"

"I imagine it has something to do with destroying Konoha. You're not exactly original. In any case, I'm not giving you a chance to pull off whatever you're scheming. Shizune, see if you can get Tsunade functional. Naruto, deal with Gaara, then focus on protecting Tsunade." The Sannin's voice carried an authority that the blond couldn't ignore, so he merely nodded his understanding.

"Jiraiya, you'll fail to protect everyone just as you've failed at everything else," Orochimaru hissed. "Kabuto, remove the bandages."

Jiraiya rushed forward to engage his old teammate, but the grey-haired shinobi swiped a streak of blood along Orochimaru's arm and summoned two huge snakes that barred his path. One of them dove for the Sannin with jaws open wide while the second targeted the remaining quartet, Kabuto atop its head.

Naruto's head swiveled between the pair of women and the screaming Gaara. I can't protect all of them! What do I do?

His hands flipped through seals before his mind could truly process his train of thought. Roiling chakra built in his chest and shot from his lips in a burst of flames. Kabuto jumped off his perch and landed near where Shizune and Tsunade were before the Great Fireball struck the massive serpent's head. The snake let out a long hiss of pain and thrashed wildly, blinded by the conflagration.

Naruto took the moment of distraction to run over to Gaara. Hesitation caused him pause at the sand floating around the redhead in sporadic patterns, but just as he'd done during the other boy's panic attack, he pushed it down and warily stepped through the silica. It didn't react to his presence. Maybe that's a good sign? "Gaara!" he yelled over the boy's screams. "You need to calm down! I need your help!"

"Pain!" he shrieked. "Mother, why—why do I feel this pain again?!"

It was almost instinctive at this point for him to place his hands upon the Suna-nin's shoulders, taking care to be gentle with the one Kabuto had injured. Gaara twitched violently, wild teal eyes focusing on the blond. "Injuries can be healed," Naruto told him, making sure the other Jinchūriki heard him. "Shizune healed me, she can heal you, too! You don't have to be in pain anymore, but you need to let me help you. I want to help you!"

Gaara continued to stare at him, but he'd finally stopped screaming and now seemed to be absorbing the blond's words with a rapt attention that had been absent in their previous interactions. Naruto could hear the seconds tick by in his head, each one as loud as a drumbeat, and when enough time had passed that he felt he couldn't wait any longer, he positioned himself beside the Suna-nin and threw the boy's good arm over his shoulder. To his surprise, the redhead resisted neither his aid nor his touch. "C'mon, let's get you help."

Yashamaru's words from long ago came back to him. "Help…this pain can be healed, but you cannot help me."

The blond grinned. "Watch me. But let's do this one step at a time."

With some effort, Naruto managed to get the Ichibi Jinchūriki to the prostrate blonde woman Jiraiya had instructed him to protect, dropping the Suna-nin beside her. Her honey eyes were locked in a vacant stare, and she didn't react to the presence of the two demon containers. "Hey, uh, Tsunade, right? I need you to heal Gaara." She remained unresponsive, and Naruto opened his mouth to try again, but lost his train of thought when Shizune suddenly landed in a heap beside them with a groan.

"Well, well, only one line of defense left."

He looked up to find Kabuto bearing down on them, a wicked grin on his face. "Tsunade, you've gotta help Gaara and Shizune! Please. They need you!"

Kabuto's chakra-coated hand speared towards him. For a second, Naruto saw Rōshi's purple-sleeved arm extending towards him in a strike, and his body reacted by ducking beneath the limb. Now within the older shinobi's guard, Naruto punched his stomach and then slid around his back and shoved a kunai into his side. The blond paused for a moment to catch his breath, the exhilaration of successfully applying Rōshi's training in a real fight overwhelming him.

Then Kabuto spun around and kicked him in the side, sending him skidding across the ground. Damn it, Naruto cursed. Stupid! He could hear Rōshi berating him for his lack of awareness, especially in the middle of a fight.

Doubly so since he was in over his head. Again.

"You've got some talent," Kabuto said. His voice was nonchalant, carrying an undertone of detached curiosity. "It's strange that I haven't seen you before. You see, I've infiltrated every Chūnin Exam for the last eight years, which is how I know about Gaara-kun. And Konoha has a habit of showing off its prominent Genin, which the skills you've shown so far suggest you to be." He plucked the kunai from his side and spun it around in his hand. Naruto's attention was drawn to the wound he'd created, blue eyes widening as it closed before his eyes. "Yet you weren't in the Chūnin Exams, and you wear no hitae-ate. It's quite the mystery." The sunlight glinted off his glasses, and combined with the smirk, Naruto was reminded of a mad scientist he'd seen in a movie once. "I quite enjoy a good mystery."

He disappeared, and Naruto only had a moment to blink before pain lanced through his left arm.

"AHH!"

"I've severed the muscles and ligaments in your arm." Kabuto's tone was clinical, as if he hadn't just caused a spike of agony with nothing more than a simple swipe of his hand. Naruto's right hand clutched the opposite bicep in a vain effort to stem the pain, trying to hold on to an injury that had no external evidence. "Now…what will you do next?"

Naruto grit his teeth against the pain, shooting a glance backwards at the people he'd been assigned to protect. Tsunade still appeared catatonic, and Shizune and Gaara remained unmoved from where he'd left them, although the redhead appeared to be flexing one hand experimentally. Damn it… He released his hold on his arm and forced his body into the best approximation of a defensive stance he could manage.

Kabuto seemed to take the blond's form as an invitation, and he blazed forward with hands aglow. Naruto couldn't even track the enemy's movements, choosing instead to blindly leverage his shorter stature by bending low to avoid the strike. He tried to sweep the older male's feet, but Kabuto jumped to avoid it and landed on his hands behind the blond, grabbing for the Jinchūriki's ankle with one hand. Naruto planted the palm of his good hand and leveraged his lower body into the air, performing an awkward one-handed handstand.

He stayed there for a moment, motionless and focused, and his chakra flowed into the earth and erected a four-foot wall between them. Then he righted himself and rushed over to Tsunade. "Hey, what's the matter with you? We need your help! Why aren't you doin' anything? Aren't you a Sannin?!"

"Tsunade has a crippling fear of blood." Kabuto's voice lilted over with a casual superiority that made Naruto feel like ice had been poured down his spine. The grey-haired male tutted. "How any self-respecting iryo-nin could be incapacitated so easily…it's just disgraceful."

"Shut up!" Naruto yelled. "You don't know anything about what she's been through!" He turned back to Tsunade, blue eyes wide and beseeching. "I don't know what's wrong, but you've gotta help us so we can help you! Jiraiya said you're gonna be the next Hokage, and the Hokage protects his people!" Nearby, Gaara's brow furrowed at the blond's passionate plea, teal eyes flickering between Jinchūriki and Sannin. "That's why I'm gonna fight to protect you, because I'm gonna be Hokage someday, believe it!"

Tsunade's hollow honey eyes rose to see the blond for the first time, a vaguely familiar expression in her gaze. Naruto wondered why he recognized it, but was pulled from his musing by a slow, repeated clap before he could place it. "Such a moving speech," Kabuto offered sarcastically. "But really, did you expect that to accomplish anything? It takes more than cheerleading to move past the traumas Tsunade has been through."

"I know that!" Naruto shot back. He couldn't tell if the reason his body was shaking was anger, fear, or indignation. "People have hated me my whole life! I've always been alone and…sad." It was the first time he'd ever voiced aloud (to an audience no less) that his life had been depressing, and it felt liberating in a way, the burden of carrying that undisclosed misery around for so many years finally given wings to fly free. "But I never gave up on trying to be better. To feel better.

"And eventually I found people who wanted to be around me. They helped me feel like I was important, and now it's like what life was like before doesn't matter, because they're here now! When you find people that give you purpose, that's when you become strong!"

Tsunade's haunted look suddenly made sense – it was the same way Utakata would look at him and see Yagura. The brunet had described it once as seeing the specter of the Mizukage looming where Naruto stood, and that the image was chilling, a stark reminder of what he'd lost.

But also what he was fighting for.

Knowing what he did now about the pair's friendship and the imminent threat that had driven the Kiri-nin to leave his home, he now understood Utakata's emotional state, and by association, he understood Tsunade's, just a little bit. He steeled himself back in a defensive position in front of the Sannin. "I'm strong enough to beat you. Bring it on!"

Kabuto smirked. "If you insist." He darted forward with another burst of speed, and Naruto used his (righteous) anger to produce a slew of Great Fireballs to impede the other male's progress. The purple-clad shinobi swerved through each burst of flames, and Naruto found he couldn't change tactics fast enough to avoid the hand aimed at his chest. Shit!

The medic's hand slammed into a small shield of sand that coalesced in front of the blond's heart. Kabuto straightened from his attack, a questioning hum on his lips. "Gaara-kun, how very unusual of you to defend someone else. Such vivacity…I can't say I expected you to interfere any further."

Naruto shot a surprised look at the redhead, whose hand was extended toward him. His face was void of expression, and the blond didn't think he looked any different than usual, but his actions felt…strange, even taking into account that Jiraiya had asked for his help. "Gaara…"

"I desire to face strong opponents," Gaara said, "to prove my own strength." His brow furrowed. "Until recently, I was undefeated. Uchiha Sasuke…Naruto…I wish to understand where their strength comes from, what allows them to have achieved what others could not. My own mine came from solitude, but that was insufficient. If finding someone who gives you purpose truly gives you strength, then I will protect these people to grow strong."

Sand poured out of the gourd on his back and reached for the older shinobi. Kabuto was forced to retreat as Naruto went over to the Ichibi Jinchūriki. "You saved me."

Gaara grunted, apparently done with any more long-winded proclamations. "We have a mission."

"Yeah, right."

"Well," came Kabuto's smooth voice, "it seems you have me outnumbered. I suppose I should even the odds. Shikon no Jutsu!"

From within a scroll in his hand emerged a pale human body, its limbs and neck hanging awkwardly, like a puppet with slack strings. It shambled towards the pair with surprising speed, fingers twisting through seals. Sand spread out to catch the person, but the earth between their feet rumbled and then split, and Gaara's broken concentration was evident in the way the silica collapsed.

Naruto quickly stabilized himself, used to how Rōshi had started to alter the terrain in their training, and caught the blade-wielding arm that was poised to stab Gaara through the eye. He pulled the arm down and brought his knee up into the man's face, crushing his nose with a sickening crunch of cartilage.

The man's head snapped backwards and he fell with the motion, and the blond breathed a sigh of relief. But then the head straightened with a sort of forced jerk, and where blood should have been spewing from his broken nose, his face was clean. "Wha—?" Globules of mud spewed from the man's mouth, and Naruto was too stunned by the development to react.

Sand rose around him to absorb the incoming balls of earth, then shot forward, wrapped around the man's head, and compacted. Naruto turned wide blue eyes to Gaara, whose arm was again outstretched in his direction, hand in a fist. "That was—"

"Look."

Kabuto was within feet of Tsunade, arm extended in a killing blow. Naruto's mouth opened – to yell for her to move, to cast a jutsu, to do something as he saw his mission come to an unfortunate end – and moved towards the Sannin even while he knew it was fruitless.

Then Tsunade stood and punched Kabuto so hard in the stomach that the man's body seemed to fold around her fist. Naruto gasped in awe, and in that breath, the power of the blonde woman's punch sent the silver-haired shinobi rocketing backwards. She appeared to crack her knuckles before announcing in a strong voice, "A medic helps the weak. Protects them. And so does the Hokage. With me in charge, there'll be no more senseless deaths. And as my first official act, I'm gonna kick your ass."

The Sannin brought her hand to her mouth before flipping through seals and slamming her palms on the ground. "Kuchiyose no Jutsu!"

A massive white slug, easily as large as the Ichibi had been, appeared beneath the woman. The gastropod spewed a greenish liquid out of its mouth that ate into the skin of the fire-blinded snake Kabuto had summoned. It thrashed around as its body dissolved, letting out a loud, sibilant shriek as the purple-clad shinobi retreated back to where Jiraiya and Orochimaru were exchanging blows atop the second summoned serpent.

An oblong, white object roughly the size of an adult formed next to where Tsunade was standing atop the giant slug's head. It appeared to glide down the creature's back until it dropped to the earth behind the gastropod's body. "Hey, you two!" Tsunade shouted. "Watch over Shizune until I get back! That's an order! Katsuyu, let's do this!"

Naruto watched the Sannin charge into battle on her summons, awe nakedly displayed on his face. Where before Tsunade had seemed small and…pathetic, in a way…nothing like what he would have expected from the next Hokage, she was now strong, decisive, and commanding, the epitome of leadership. He felt…inspired. Despite his wish to be Hokage, he'd never seen one in action before, and now that he was finally able to witness one's true potential, it only made him covet the position more. She's awesome!

"Should we not be moving?"

Gaara's monotone question drew him from his reverie. "Uh, yeah, right!"

The redhead followed him as he rushed over to where Tsunade had directed them, finding a smaller version of the giant slug the Sannin had called Katsuyu on top of the unconscious Shizune. Short eye stalks turned to spy the two Jinchūriki as they approached. "If you place your hand on me, I can use Tsunade-sama's chakra to heal your injuries," she said in a musical voice.

Naruto turned to Gaara to see what the redhead thought and was greeted by the other boy's usual stoicism. Shrugging – because the likelihood that Tsunade had summoned a creature that would hurt them seemed unlikely – he placed his mobile hand against the gastropod and heaved an immediate sigh of relief as soothing chakra flowed through his body. In short order, the pain that had crippled his lame arm was gone, and he windmilled the limb experimentally. "That feels great, thanks!" He noticed Gaara lingering just outside of his periphery, and finding the redhead's arm to still be hanging limply by his side, gestured for him to approach. "C'mere Gaara, she'll heal you up good as new."

A flash of hesitation crossed the redhead's features and then disappeared. "I…have not been healed before."

"All you gotta do is ask! C'mon, she already offered and everything."

With noticeable reticence, the Suna-nin stepped forward and slowly lifted a hand to the creature's slimy skin. The confused furrow of his eyebrows spoke volumes to his lack of understanding of the situation. After several seconds had passed, he opened his mouth, closed it, and then opened it again to admit, "People do not help me."

"They didn't help me, either, but that's all changed since I met Utakata-nii and Rōshi-oji. They'll help you, I'm sure of it. And I'm here to help you whenever you need it, believe it!"

Gaara stared at him for a long while, and for once, Naruto didn't feel like fidgeting beneath his intense gaze. Where before there had been a sort of hunger to the redhead's look, now it just seemed…placid. Maybe not at peace, but studious, as if the blond were a strange curio the Suna-nin was finally starting to figure out.

"So you're the brat Jiraiya won't shut up about."

Naruto whirled on the spot to find the pair of Sannin approaching them, Jiraiya cradling his ribs with one hand. Tsunade's face looked haggard, lined with slight wrinkles that hadn't been there earlier, but her honey-colored eyes were stern, and her arms were crossed over her ample bosom. Now that he was up close to her – and not in the midst of battle – her presence was…imposing. Where Jiraiya was easygoing, borderline irresponsible, Tsunade was all business, her tone brusque and unamused, and the blond felt an immediate respect for her. She's like Rōshi-oji… "Uhh…"

"Yeah, Jiraiya trained you for sure," she commented dryly. "You're as eloquent as he is."

"It's only been a month!" the pair shouted simultaneously. Grumpily, the blond muttered, "And he's barely done anything."

Tsunade waved a dismissive hand in the air. "Whatever." Her features softened, just a little, and with a touch of genuine gratitude, she said, "Thank you for protecting Shizune and me from Orochimaru's lackey. It takes guts to stand up to someone that far above your skill level and keep fighting."

"Oh, well, no problem! Uzumaki Naruto keeps his promises! But, uh, where'd they go?"

"Crawled back to whatever hole they came out of," Jiraiya answered. "That's not the last we'll see of them, I guarantee it, but for now, we can consider ourselves safe."

"We'll deal with them in due time," Tsunade asserted. "Meanwhile, I'm more curious about you." She took a step towards Naruto, stern expression back in place, and the same sliver of fear that had gripped the blond during the early months of training with Rōshi rolled down his spine. "See, I've known Jiraiya for a very, very long time. He's got a lot of skills, including Katon and Doton, but he's never specialized in defensive jutsu. Flashy, that's his style.

"And as loathe as I am to admit it, Kabuto has a point. All active shinobi wear their hitae-ate in some fashion. That kid's got his," she continued, thumbing at Gaara, where the hourglass insignia of the Hidden Sand was inscribed on a metal plate sewn to the strap of his gourd. "Hell, even Jiraiya's got his stupid thing." The white-haired Sannin blustered at her choice of words, but she spoke over him. "And for someone who wants to be Hokage, that sort of pride is tantamount."

She grabbed the green jacket that they'd dropped on the ground upon arriving, reached into the pocket, withdrew a Leaf forehead protector, and tied it in place around her head. Then she leaned down so her face was in the blond's, and Naruto gulped at the proximity, the Sannin's authority a near and weighty presence. "If Jiraiya's barely taught you anything in a month, someone else has been teaching a kid who isn't even a Genin some pretty interesting skills. So, as your new Hokage, I'm ordering you to tell me who's been training you. Who are 'Utakata-nii' and 'Rōshi-oji'?"

Sweat beaded the blond's forehead. Rōshi-oji's gonna kill me.

Chapter Text

"Absolutely not."

"An' why not?" Rōshi spat. His words were fiery, laced with the heat of the lava he controlled. The magnitude of his distaste over the decision combined with his reputation would have a lesser man cowering.

Ōnoki was not that man.

The Tsuchikage arched one thick, greying eyebrow at his son, bearing the brunt of his tantrum with the stoicism typical of the Hidden Rock's leaders. He hadn't knelt to the redhead's whims as a child, and he certainly wasn't going to cave to the 27-year-old who'd been absent for most of the last two decades. "I don't need to justify my decision to anyone, let alone you," he replied dismissively.

"Yeh jus' had a mad Bijū trampin' 'bout th' country," snarled the lava-user. "Yeh think yeh can jus' ignore that? No one's gonna 'preciate him knowin' th' Gobi was close ter killin' 'em."

Ōnoki laughed, a low, gruff chuckle. "And you will?"

"Better than he will here!"

"So he can follow in your footsteps?" The Tsuchikage was no longer amused, his compact form levitating above the chair he'd just been seated in. "Leave the village and just bally about the mountains like some juvenile—"

"I come when yeh call!" Rōshi shouted. "Jus' saved yer ass from th' Gobi, didn' I?"

"You're our weapon against such threats, it's your duty—"

"I'M YER SON, NOT SOME DOG ON A LEASH, YEH DAFT, OL'—"

"ENOUGH!" Ōnoki bellowed. His hands were close together, a tiny sphere of white light held between them. He took several deep breaths, and the outline of a cube that encased the light dissipated. Slowly, he forced himself back into his chair, a modicum of professionalism returning to his countenance. "You are our weapon, and you will adhere to our rules! This is not up for debate. The Jinchūriki will be trained here, within Iwa. Should you wish to provide guidance, here is where you'll do it. Otherwise, leave. You're good at that. I'll not have you influence the boy in following your lead."

Rōshi's fists were clenched so tightly that he was sure his fingernails had pierced his palms and drawn blood. "Fine!" he spat. "Yeh can have 'im. But it won't work. He'll follow my lead whether yeh like it or not, 'cause yeh got no idea how ter raise anyone, let alone a Jinchūriki."

He made sure to slam the door to the Tsuchikage's office on his way out, a thunderous sound that matched the rage pounding in his ears.

Rōshi held a hand up to his forehead and squinted into the distance against the harsh glare of the sun. A vast expanse of rocks, buttes, and mountains loomed as far as the eye could see, and for a moment, the redhead wished he was back in the Land of Fire, where the forests provided lush shade and a wash of colors that left one in awe. The Land of Earth was so boring in comparison, dry and empty and uninspiring.

Mebbe we hate Konoha jus' 'cause they got it better.

He smirked at his own droll humor, though it was short-lived. The history of the rivalry between the Villages Hidden in Rock and Leaf was far too long to believe something so whimsical. It sounded like a theory Naruto, or even Utakata (on a good day), might bandy about to amuse themselves. Rōshi had lived too long to allow himself such trivial fantasies.

Although, as he trekked a dusty trail through the Land of Earth, he wondered if that was still true.

Time, he'd learned, had a way of changing things. Utakata would sometimes say that it was for the better, but the Iwa-nin's experiences had understandably soured him to such optimism. Decades of isolation, of watching people from so far away that they weren't aware of his presence, of sparse instances of trying to do the right thing and always failing because nothing could erode the stubbornness of Iwa's leadership (or his), had taught the Four-Tails' Jinchūriki not to trust in the passage of time.

And yet, only six months with the two younger Jinchūriki and Rōshi knew something had changed. It was a blip in the timeline of his life, and yet it was more time than he'd spent in the company of another person in the past 40 years…since he'd left the comfort of village life and sought refuge in the craggy mountains of the Land of Earth…

It was strange how living among people who simultaneously shared so many and yet so few similar characteristics could reveal so much he'd ignored for so long. Jinchūriki were inherently broken creatures; Mū had called him a weapon, something no longer human, and Rōshi – an impressionable five-year-old – had believed him.

The Hidden Sand Jinchūriki he'd fought during the Third Shinobi World War had been the same, from what he could tell in the little they'd interacted (read: attempted to kill each other). Crazier than the lava-user, certainly, but that just made his brokenness all the more obvious. Utakata, for all his polite mannerisms, wasn't all that different, though it was certainly hidden better. Youth, Rōshi thought, probably helped temper things, but between the brunet's desperate connection to Yagura (and his mannerisms when he slipped) and the way he agreed with the Iwa-nin on certain topics, he was broken, too.

And then there was Han—

A scoff of disdain tickled his throat, and he forced himself to divert that thought towards the true outlier: Naruto.

The blond Jinchūriki was an anomaly among a set of tested data points, and after six months, Rōshi still didn't know how or why. His life had been filled with the same scorn and distrust the other Jinchūriki had faced, the same isolation and loneliness; hell, the boy was as stubborn and temperamental as the Iwa-nin on any given day.

But he was different. Somehow, within Naruto, the fragile nature of humanity had not shattered when bludgeoned by the curse of the Jinchūriki. Utakata saw that – had seen it way before Rōshi, if the Iwa-nin was being honest – and that made him…

Rōshi didn't know. There truly wasn't a word to describe the Kyūbi Jinchūriki. Resilient? That came in many forms. The redhead had lived by himself for four decades; that was resiliency.

But that had also served to isolate him further, bury him deeper in the cycle of hatred that festered within all Jinchūriki. Almos' all, he corrected mentally.

Naruto had…inspired, the redhead supposed…something in him. Working with the blond had breathed fresh life into a stale body. Rōshi had forgotten what it was like to actually help someone who wanted it despite the fact that it had only been a couple of years since the Tsuchikage's last ultimatum had quashed that feeling. Yes, Utakata had brought them together, and the redhead had even gotten around to training the brunet to be a better shinobi, but training Naruto, watching the stubborn Konoha native bounce back up every time the Iwa-nin had beaten him down, was like kindling a flame on a windy night. He'd lost count of the number of times he'd gone through that particular exercise during his exile, and as much patience and irritation as he'd burned through on those occasions, the end – warm comfort on a cold night – was always worth it.

It was early yet, but Naruto had the potential to be a great, roaring fire. And after the last six months, Rōshi didn't mind being part of the fuel that kept it burning.

But to do so required they live, and with Akatsuki apparently on their tail, that was going to be a greater challenge than expected. Utakata, annoying as it was to admit, had a point. They needed to work together; standing alone would get them nowhere.

Forty years of isolation compared to the last six months of company, even through the frustrating moments, was evidence enough of that.

So now he was going to do the right thing…the thing he should have pushed harder for 23 years ago.

There yeh are.

He crested a small ridge and stared down across another expanse of rocky earth that culminated in a massive gorge. Kiri no Tani – the Valley of Fog – was located in the far western region of the Land of Earth, and getting to it from Konoha had been nothing short of tedious. It had been called something else long ago, though the name had been lost once the thick, white haze that permeated the ravine had become commonplace enough to grant it its new moniker. The only reason Rōshi knew the name was because Kurotsuchi had brought it up one day years ago, excitedly asking if he'd ever visited during his time outside the Hidden Rock. It was apparently a thing of mythological wonder to the younger Iwa citizens who were lucky enough to be ignorant of the mystery it enshrouded.

Rōshi snorted at their foolishness; the Valley of Fog was yet another example of people taking for granted that which they didn't understand. If they knew th' source o' all th' fog…

He descended the cliff he'd crested, wary of any loose rubble in his path potentially giving away his position. While the Hidden Rock had the normal division of sensor-nin who could track shinobi by chakra in the traditional way, it also had plenty of Doton specialists who were so attuned to their element that they could detect the presence of nearby people just by their approach. It didn't have quite the same effect as actual sensing – there was no way to determine the strength of one's chakra or any similar metrics – but if position and movement were all one needed, earth-sensing was a powerful asset. It was rumored that Ōnoki had taken to flying with the Light-Weight Rock Technique out of paranoia of a similar sensing ability revealing his presence (or if traitors wished to track him). Rōshi was likely more adept at the ability than anyone his father would have deployed to Kiri no Tani, but there was little point in taking chances.

When he finally made it to flat ground, Rōshi kneeled and placed a palm to the dirt. Vibrations thundered up through the earth from the ravine's floor, a telltale sign of his target's constant, pent-up frustration. The redhead smirked to himself. Same ol' same ol'. He tried to ignore those movements and focused instead on the surrounding area, on everywhere that overlooked the Valley of Fog. That would be where the sentries were posted, either too afraid or too disgusted to get close to the monster contained within walls hundreds of feet deep.

Jus' two o' yeh? Th' Tsuchikage's gettin' lazy.

Not that it mattered; it just made his job a bit easier.

He angled his heading towards the closer guard, stepping lightly and approaching at a slow, careful pace to avoid alerting the other shinobi to his presence. When he decided he was close enough that he could approach no further without additional precautions, he went through seals and then slammed one hand into the ground. Doton: Shōgekiha no Jutsu.

The Earth Release: Shockwave Technique ripped through the underground, causing the earth to shake and rocks to tumble down the surrounding mountains. Earthquakes weren't uncommon in the Land of Earth, and one so far away from most villages – which were built with infrastructure to withstand smaller ones – wouldn't draw any undue attention.

Even from the guards of one of Iwa's most prized possessions.

The rumbling of falling rock and heaving of the ground disguised the redhead's footsteps as he sprinted towards the first chakra signature. The guard had his back to the redhead, far enough from the edge of the precipice he was on to avoid being hurtled into the ravine by an errant aftershock. Rōshi withdrew one of his curved kunai from its sheath and thrust it through the shinobi's heart with barely a thought.

The man's form sagged into mud, collapsing at the Jinchūriki's feet. Rōshi jumped as two hands emerged from the earth, reaching for his ankles to drag him underground. He grimaced at his haste, expelling a stream of lava into an incoming wind jutsu that cooled into a concave shield and then succumbed to gravity. Dark eyes glanced around to find the second guard standing on a precipice on the opposite side of the ravine, chakra-enhanced winds emanating from his direction. Stupid, he berated himself, yeh know better than ter leave th' ground.

Chakra flared to life around him and formed into dark obsidian. With a quick application of the Added-Weight Rock Technique, his mass multiplied, and he plummeted to a field of earthen spires that had been set up below him. Rock crumbled beneath his impact, causing clouds of dust to billow up and cover the area. He shed the obsidian armor, allowing it to fall away in bits and pieces. Once it was gone, he breathed deeply, glad to feel solid earth.

Like most Iwa-nin, Rōshi didn't like leaving the ground. Their strength typically came from the earth, and losing that advantage could be akin to a death sentence. For the redhead, that went even further; there was an intrinsic, instinctual feeling of belonging when he was on the ground, and disconnecting from it felt like leaving home. He could picture the roiling magma deep within the earth, and its constant heat instilled in him a sense of calm and purpose.

The earth shifted beneath his feet, and he sidestepped a spike of stone that erupted to impale him. Stalagmites continued to burst from the ground in rapid succession, bundled together to prevent Rōshi from avoiding them, but each one was preceded by a slight rumble that shook in his bones, and dodging them was a trifle.

All the while, the wind-user's position across the ravine remained unchanged. Dust was still obscuring him and the (apparent) sensor, and that was likely stopping the other shinobi from taking decisive action. Rōshi allowed himself a tut of disapproval. Weak. Doton: Sazareishi.

Rock rose around both sentries, entrapping and then crushing them. Rōshi scowled as he felt the sensor-nin slip out of the Gravel technique's hold. Yeh're annoyin'.

He spun on his heel, summoning rock to cover his fist, and punched the open maw of an incoming earthen dragon. Stone showered the area, and Rōshi waited patiently for the Iwa-nin's next move. He half-expected the other shinobi to run away, but the earth remained still.

The dust between them finally cleared, and Rōshi saw the face of his opponent for the first time. Brown eyes went wide at the sight of the redhead. "You're the Yonbi!"

The lava-user flared his chakra, and as the sensor tensed in expectation of an attack, the curved blade of the redhead's kunai erupted from the man's chest. "Jinchūriki," he corrected with muttered distaste as his earth clone withdrew the blade and allowed the corpse to collapse. That the people of the village he'd protected with his life – and his sacrifice – still couldn't see him as anything more than the Tailed Beast within was only one of the many reasons he'd left. He held out his hand for his weapon, and once the Tsuchi Bunshin had turned it over, it returned to a loose pile of dirt.

An' now…

Rōshi turned his attention to the Valley of Fog, eyeing it with a healthy dose of skepticism. When he'd left Naruto in Konoha, he'd known that the task ahead would be difficult. Hell, when Utakata had discussed his plan six months ago and Rōshi had merely arched an eyebrow at the boy's naivety and scoffed at his idealism, he'd known that this would be a massive undertaking. And that had been before he'd even become a willing participant of the Kiri-nin's plan. That he knew it had to be done didn't make it any easier.

Summoning chakra to his feet, the redhead stepped over the edge of the gorge and began walking down its sheer wall. As his descent deepened, the white mist that gave the valley its moniker grew thicker, and every step taken was more careful than the last. With his visibility continually diminishing, Rōshi tried brainstorming the right approach to take, but no ideas came to mind. He ran a few fingers through his beard, scratching idly at his chin in contemplation. How'd I git sucked inter this mess, hm? What'll git 'im ter come with?

All he had was the solitude all Jinchūriki were burdened with and the fact that there was no love lost with the Hidden Rock.

Those, at least, he had in common with Han.

Screw it, he groused internally. He'd spent the majority of his life taking action without a plan, including following Utakata to Konoha and sticking around to train Naruto; there was no reason this should go any different.

His foot made contact with a horizontal surface, and Rōshi stepped down to the bottom of the ravine. He extended his arms before him, the surrounding fog so thick that he could barely see his hands before his face. A thin trickle of nearby flowing water made its way to his ears, the sound reminiscent of all those months watching Naruto train with Utakata in the Land of Fire. Aye, I know what I got ter do, yeh don' need ter keep remindin' me. Damn brats…annoyin' me an' they ain't even here.

"So you've finally deigned to come to me."

The voice that greeted him was as deep as the Valley of Fog, animosity tangled in every syllable. Rōshi glanced around cautiously, dark eyes scrutinizing his surroundings even though the haze made it impossible. No vibrations shook the earth, and Rōshi scowled at the sensory deprivation. "I jus' want ter talk," he announced, arms held up to showcase his peaceful intent.

"Oh, is that all?" came the deep voice, cynicism lacing the rhetorical question. "I've never known you to be a big talker, Rōshi." With each word spoken, the mist thinned, and the lava-user turned his head in the direction of the voice.

Han was a giant of a man, even discounting Rōshi's diminutive frame, his massive form towering at least two heads over the Four-Tails' Jinchūriki. Scarlet-colored armor covered him from top to toe, including a kasa that shaded his pupil-less brown eyes – the only part of his face which was visible – from the elements. His right hand was tucked against his chest beneath a dark grey gi with torn sleeves and black trim, matching his dark grey pants. White smoke puffed out from an armored contraption on his back, adding to the haze pervading the Valley of Fog. He stood on the thin stream of water running through the ravine's floor, his stature as stiff and unyielding as the walls around them.

"Aye, yeh've got me there," Rōshi admitted warily. "But things're diff'rent now."

"How so?" Every word Han spoke was colored with dark skepticism. "Iwa's no different. I'm seen as nothing more than a child to be babysat and used when convenient, like a commodity." Years of solitude had given Rōshi enough inherent apathy to not flinch at the taller Iwa-nin's growing anger, though his dark eyes narrowed with suspicion. "And you're going to stand there and tell me that two decades later, things are suddenly different? That you've changed?"

The mist around them thickened once more, hiding the massive shinobi from view. This ain't good.

"You, who represent the very essence of Iwa, kowtowing to the Tsuchikage's whims for Iwa's benefit at the expense of everyone else; you, who made a Jinchūriki from a child and sacrificed him to the Tsuchikage so that you could enjoy your freedom…that you've come here pretending your intentions are innocent is laughable. I've waited a long time for this, Rōshi…"

Rōshi's grimace was hidden by the mist, though the thick white haze couldn't disguise the footsteps that thundered through the ground. Instinct had the redhead crossing his arms over his chest and shielding his forearms with stone in a hasty bastardization of the Fist Rock Technique.

Han's black-gloved fist slammed into the shorter Iwa-nin, sending the redhead careening into the ravine wall behind him. Rōshi grunted at the impact, rock digging uncomfortably into his back. He activated the Hiding in Rock Technique, melding into the wall just before the taller shinobi's second punch fractured the stone that had been bracing him. "RŌSHI!" bellowed the enraged Jinchūriki. "Come out and fight me, you coward!"

Aye, yer pissed somethin' fierce… I knew this was a bad idea.

But he would get nowhere by running away, and he had come with a purpose. The Gobi Jinchūriki had combat experience and skill that dwarfed Utakata's, and if the brunet's plan had any chance of success, they needed Han.

Steam seeped through the cracks in the rock, and Rōshi armored himself in stone before propelling from his hiding spot in an aggressive blitz. Han effortlessly caught his fist, closing his fingers around it before the redhead could escape. He effortlessly lifted the smaller Iwa-nin into the air and then slammed him into the ground.

Rōshi was momentarily stunned by the attack, his stone armor cracking and falling apart at his feet. He expelled a small globule of lava, forcing the Gobi Jinchūriki to lean backwards to prevent his head from being broiled. Han retained his grip on the lava-user's fist, and the giant's movement brought him off the ground once more. Before the armored shinobi could react, the redhead planted both feet squarely in Han's chest, receiving a deep grunt for his effort.

Instead of releasing the lava-user, Han's grip tightened even more, and Rōshi winced as the bones in his hand were crushed. "Don't think I'll let you escape," Han growled.

Burning chakra spread along Rōshi's skin, turned into lava, and then solidified into black obsidian. Han's incoming fist struck the Yonbi Jinchūriki's midriff, but Rōshi's defense withstood the blow, and the redhead used the Added-Weight Rock Technique to increase his mass. Even Han's impressive strength couldn't keep up with the sudden burden, and he finally released the older Jinchūriki. Rōshi hit the ground and cratered it, reverting his mass back to its normal state and bounding to his feet. "Yōton: Shakugaryūgan no Jutsu!"

Spheres of flaming, molten rock erupted from his mouth. Han shifted through several defensive maneuvers, his strong limbs destroying each incoming projectile with ease. Rōshi expelled a stream of lava at the giant, but the Gobi Jinchūriki held up a gloved hand to deflect the liquid, sending molten droplets spraying out in all directions. With the heavy sound of something depressurizing, steam billowed out from beneath Han's armor. He immediately charged the smaller Iwa-nin with a speed that belied his size, and Rōshi again increased his mass, too encumbered by the obsidian armor to properly dodge.

"Funsuiken!"

The gloved fist that impacted his chest shattered the layer of protective black stone and sent the redhead rocketing backwards through the fog. A large boulder arrested his momentum, crumbling beneath him, and for several seconds, he lay in the rubble his collision had caused, obsidian chunks breaking off his body and joining the pile under him. Nnn…guessin' that's th' Kairiki Musō… he mused darkly.

After the end of the Third Shinobi World War, Ōnoki had taken some strange delight in regaling him with the great success Han – then a teenager, and still early in his tenure as a Jinchūriki – had had breaking through Konoha's forces with his Unrivalled Strength style of fighting, as if Rōshi cared about competing with his fellow Iwa-nin. The redhead hadn't seen the big deal – when he'd helped subdue the Gobi, the enormous irukauma's use of steam hadn't caused any great hindrance – and hearing about the Five-Tails' Jinchūriki's success when the lava-user had taken point against Suna and beaten the One-Tail Jinchūriki hadn't impressed him.

But if this was what a true master of Futton could accomplish, the powers of an untamed Bijū in a trained human host, he had underestimated the power of Boil Release.

And Han.

Clambering to his feet caused him to grimace in pain. I ain't been beat this bad since…trainin' with Mū?

Thunder rippled through the ground, and Rōshi threw himself to the side as Han burst through the fog in a bull's rush. Waves of steam were expelled from one side of his armor, the burst of pressure pivoting his body to face the older Iwa-nin. For a moment, there was an opening in the swirling fog, and the Yonbi Jinchūriki saw unbridled hatred in the giant's pupil-less brown eyes; then, with a gesture, the haze was all-encompassing once more. "You can't dodge forever, Rōshi."

I can so long as we're on th' ground.

Han may have been bigger, faster, and physically stronger, but he didn't fight like a shinobi of the Hidden Rock. Boil Release was a combination of Water and Fire Releases, so none of the earth-related training that Rōshi had gone through to master lava -based ninjutsu had been imparted to him.

Including earth-sensing.

More vibrations echoed through the ground as Han's footsteps reverberated his intentions, and Rōshi again dodged the linear assault, spinning around to launch another Scorching Stream Rock Technique at the giant's back.

"Suiton: Daibakufu no Jutsu!"

A flood formed of river water blew Rōshi off his feet from behind and carried him in Han's direction. The redhead tumbled around in the deluge, twisting his fingers through familiar hand seals even while disoriented. Doton: Doryūheki! Doton: Doryūkatsu!

A thick rock wall erupted from the ground between the two Jinchūriki, hiding the older Rock shinobi and the incoming Great Waterfall Technique from Han's view. Then the earth split, and Rōshi's disorientation turned to relief as the flowing water fell into the yawning chasm, allowing him to make contact with the solid earth of the divide's wall and meld through it with the Underground Fish Projection Technique. He could feel the Five-Tails' Jinchūriki moving around above him, and with a quick application of chakra, reached up to grab the steam-user's armored feet.

In short order, only Han's head was visible aboveground, his brown eyes glaring daggers at the surfaced redhead. "Are yeh ready ter listen?"

Hot vapor washed over him, followed by a shower of rocks as the earth surrounding Han exploded at his expulsion of steam. He was momentarily grateful for the decades of training with lava – it gave him a resistance to the boiling steam that blanketed him and would have likely cooked a normal shinobi – but a booted foot planted itself in his solar plexus with all the force of a hefted cinderblock. Rōshi gasped for air as Han's weight drove him into the ground, the giant standing over him with one foot on his ribcage like a conquering hero. Each ragged breath felt like he was drowning, the air more water vapor than oxygen.

"Do you feel it in your lungs, Rōshi? The weight…the pressure of being unable to do anything normal, even breathing? How it feels to be restricted for once?"

Han's deep voice was incensed, each question punctuated with a little more pressure on the redhead's chest. Rōshi couldn't tell if the giant's image was distorted from all the surrounding steam or his own blurring vision. His hand scrabbled in the dirt around him and found a rock. He threw it up in the direction of the armored shinobi's head, chakra turning it into a small wave of dirt.

Han was too close to dodge, and his head and shoulders were assaulted by the mass of earth. It was enough to force him off the older Iwa-nin's chest, and Rōshi gasped as the pressure on his lungs decreased. He flared his chakra, the heat of his lava armor burning off the surrounding fog, and the ability to breath became instantly noticeable. Instinct forced him to his feet, the training of a shinobi raised to ignore his pain and take advantage of any momentary weakness taking over, and he charged Han, lowering his shoulder and throwing his weight into the man's midriff.

Han fell backwards, still distracted by the redhead's unexpected dirt deluge, the ground cracking under his weight. Rōshi blazed through seals and slammed his open palms against the larger Iwa-nin's armored chest. "Doton: Chōkajūgan no Jutsu!"

His chakra spread throughout the Gobi Jinchūriki's body, increasing Han's weight exponentially. "Rōshi…" he growled, the chink of his armor as he tried to lift his arms echoing with the hatred in his voice. "What did you do to me?"

"Same thing I did ter th' Gobi," he replied, rising to his feet and wincing as his bones cracked. Adrenaline gone, he suddenly felt all of his 50 years, his body screaming after the beatdown Han had delivered. The giant's struggles became more pronounced, and Rōshi summoned lava from beneath the earth to flow around the taller Iwa-nin and harden into strong obsidian bands that further restricted his movement. Even still, the armored shinobi continued to move, and Rōshi had to admire his tenacity – or his hatred – to resist both the Ultra-Added-Weight Rock Technique and his restraints. Steam billowed out from beneath Han, but even that wasn't enough to propel him into an upright position. "Now are yeh ready ter listen?"

Han managed to lift his head just enough for pupil-less brown eyes to momentarily shoot daggers at the redhead. "To whatever high and mighty speech you have?" His head fell back, cratering the ground beneath it. "Hardly."

"Yer wrong."

"Shocking."

"I came here ter help yeh, yeh daft fool!" Rōshi snapped. The giant's sarcasm and obstinance was becoming a test of his limited patience. His respect for Utakata – and the tribulations the brunet had gone through to convince him to travel with him and keep him in Konoha despite his own stubbornness – rose. "If yeh'd shut up fer five minutes—"

"Help me? Like you helped me after I became a Jinchūriki? Like you helped me when Iwa taught me to be a weapon? Or are you referring to how you helped yourself?"

Rōshi heaved a sigh laden with regret and settled into a cross-legged position on the ground. "Aye, I made a mistake. An' I ain't askin' yeh ter fergive me. When I asked ter train yeh, Ōnoki tol' me I had ter stay in Iwa ter do it, an' I wasn' gonna let 'im have control o' me again. But th' past's th' past, an' I ain't here ter fix it."

"Then why exactly are you here?"

"Th' Jinchūriki're bein' targeted—"

Han barked a laugh. "Tell me something I don't know."

"It's Akatsuki."

The Gobi Jinchūriki was silent for moment before skeptically asking, "The group Deidara's joined?"

Deidara? The name was vaguely familiar, though the redhead couldn't think of why. He shrugged, and when he realized Han couldn't see him, said, "I s'pose. Ōnoki's used 'em afore."

Han scoffed. "So you came to warn me about a group of terrorists. Great. I'll keep an eye out."

"This ain't a joke!"

"No? You think Akatsuki can beat a Jinchūriki, after the wars we've fought?"

"Yeh ever fight a Kage?" Rōshi argued. "I'm guessin' not, since Ōnoki an' yeh are both still 'round."

"Are you comparing Akatsuki to a Kage?" Han snorted. "Please. They recruited Deidara. If they're getting help from Akatsuchi's pathetic excuse of a friend, then they aren't the threat you make them out to be."

"Ev'ry team's got a weakest player, even th' Bijū. An' if yeh think th' Ichibi's nothin' ter sneeze at, yer wrong. 'Cause o' th' two o' us, I'm th' only one who's fought it. 'Sides, yeh jus' lost ter me."

"You got lucky," Han growled.

"Aye, an' luck's all they need ter git yeh. Mebbe yeh think yeh can take 'em, but they think they can take yeh, an' that means that we got ter take 'em serious."

"We? You're proposing, what, an alliance to defeat Akatsuki? Between you and me?"

"Somethin' like that."

Han laughed, a deep, cynical sound. Rōshi wondered if he had sounded so skeptical when Utakata had proposed the same thing six months ago. "You've never cared to protect me before," Han said, a sneer in his voice, "and I—"

"I already tol' yeh, I tried!" Rōshi shouted in frustration. He was on his feet now, face approaching the color of his hair as his short temper spiked. "Yeh've met that ol' bastard Ōnoki—"

"Spent more time with him than you, that's for sure!" Han spat.

"—an' yeh still think anythin' I said woulda got yeh put under me?!" the redhead bellowed. "I got no power in Iwa! I'm a weapon, same as yeh! Yeh think bein' th' son o' th' Tsuchikage means anythin' compared ter bein' a Jinchūriki? It's all shit! Iwa, Ōnoki, our lives, our duty! We git nothin' 'cause no one gives a shit!

"Aye, so I failed ter protect yeh afore. I tried ter save myself, an' look how I ended up. Yeh think yeh woulda been any diff'rent if I'd been there, eh? Yer still a Jinchūriki, yeh still woulda been alone an' hated an' pissed! But now we got ter move on ter what we can control."

Silence reigned as Rōshi's diatribe ended, the redhead heaving angry breaths of humid air. He wasn't even sure if what he'd said had made any sense, or that it would sway Han to their side; it had been a rant to air his own grievances, the boiling rage that had consumed him since he was a child, and it had felt…good. Too many decades in isolation had allowed anger – at his status, at the Tsuchikages (both Second and Third), at the Yonbi, at life – to fester with no outlet.

And Han understood all that…knew the rage, the hatred, the feeling of being used by a village which didn't respect him just because he'd been a convenient tool to stick with a dangerous, misunderstood creature.

At least, he should have. It was becoming more apparent that Han had channeled his rage into hating Rōshi, and to a far greater extent than the redhead had anticipated. His current injuries were a testament to that.

"What do you want from me, Rōshi?" Han finally asked. His deep voice was controlled, his anger carefully stuffed within his armor. Rōshi wasn't sure whether to interpret that as a good thing or not.

"I want yeh ter come with me."

"I can't go anywhere right now."

Rōshi hobbled over to Han and laid a hand upon the obsidian bands tying him to the earth. With a quick manipulation of chakra, the stone fractured and broke away. Moving to touch the giant's armor, another burst of chakra released the Gobi Jinchūriki from the Ultra-Added-Weight Rock Technique. He stepped back as the steam-user rose to his feet, his impressive height towering over the redhead's short frame and making him feel suddenly inadequate. "Yer free now."

Han scoffed. "Hardly. A free man needs no guards. We don't all have the luxury of going wherever we want on a whim."

"I took care o' yer guards." Han stared at him, and if any more than his eyes were visible, Rōshi might have called the expression shocked. "Aye, yer welcome. Yer as free as I am now, if yeh want ter call it that," he added dryly. Digging into a pocket, he produced the river rock engraved with the kanji for 'four'. "I got one o' these, too, yeh know. It ain't like I'm above it all."

Han's hand was once more buried beneath his gi; from the movement of the cloth, it seemed like he was fidgeting with his own stone. "And yet," the giant noted in a clipped tone, "you freely admit to killing your fellow shinobi, and you fear no consequence."

Rōshi snorted. "If that's how yeh see 'em. I don'. Mebbe there's other shinobi who're more my fellows. Got ter take risks ter reap rewards, eh?"

"What, you think I'm more like you than they are?"

The redhead's face grew solemn. "Yer a Jinchūriki, ain't yeh? That's more'n most can say." And as strange as it sounded, Rōshi trusted Han more than the other Jinchūriki. Utakata, for as well-meaning and polite as he appeared, had greater priorities than the lava-user, namely the safety of the Mizukage. And Naruto's naivety, his unwavering devotion to his village, only accentuated his youth and inexperience, so Rōshi had no appreciation for his judgment.

But Han was an Iwa-nin. He knew how the Hidden Rock operated, knew the Tsuchikage's temperament and games, shared the country's history, and had grown up under the same thumb the redhead had. As much as the bigger Jinchūriki would hate to admit it, their situations weren't actually all that different.

They weren't all that different.

That Rōshi could take Ōnoki in a fight, and that his tendency towards disobedience had led the Tsuchikage to rein in the Gobi Jinchūriki tighter than he had his own son, were about the only true variations that immediately came to mind.

Han stared at him for a long moment, as if trying to discern something from the older Iwa-nin's serious expression. Rōshi waited with more patience than he ever would have considered himself capable of, hyper-aware of the fact that the major obstacle he'd feared in trying to recruit Han – that the Gobi Jinchūriki would try to kill him outright without hearing him out – had been cleared. Rushing the armored shinobi now would only risk driving him further away.

"Fine." The giant's arms were crossed over his chest in a show of (petulant) defiance. It reminded the redhead a little of Naruto, and the corner of his mouth twitched with humor. "Let's see what freedom looks like."

A distinct sense of nostalgia followed Rōshi as the pair of Jinchūriki traveled out of the Valley of Fog and began the arduous journey back to Konoha. This time, though, he was the injured one slowing their pace to a crawl, not Utakata, and Han had taken his place as the skeptical, dour Iwa-nin unwilling to help.

And, for once, he was starting to feel like he needed it. Without the adrenaline from their fight, the redhead's body was protesting every movement he made, the power of Han's strikes finally becoming apparent. He wasn't skilled in the medical field, but it didn't take a genius to figure out that the larger Iwa-nin had done a thorough job of bruising or breaking his hand, shoulders, back, chest, and ribs. His good hand clutched his aching side in an effort to quell the pain throbbing there as they ascended another mountainous crest, a grimace stretching his lips. This better've been worth it.

"Where are we going?"

The gruff answer came through gritted teeth. "Konoha."

"It sounds like you're in pain."

"Aye, yeh did a number on me."

"Good." Han's deep voice sounded just a little pleased.

"…So yer not gonna offer ter help me."

"Why should I? You can handle yourself."

Rōshi sighed, though he had to admit that he hadn't really expected the younger Jinchūriki to make any altruistic gestures. Automatically, how do you expect to work together if you won't help me? rose to the tip of his tongue, but he bit it down. He would make no in-roads with Han by asking for help, and getting the Gobi Jinchūriki to stay was now priority number one.

He summoned chakra to his injured hand, drawing dirt to his palm and manipulating it into an earthen glove; with a thought, it hardened to stone. It'll have ter do, he mused, admiring his handiwork. While it didn't ease his pain, the makeshift cast would at least prevent him from doing further damage to his crushed fingers and wrist. It was a pity he couldn't do the same for the rest of his body, though the image of trying to make it back to Konoha while partially encased in a rock body cast caused him to snort in amusement.

Han's armor clinked as he turned to the redhead. "What's so funny?"

"Nothin'."

The giant scoffed. "Right. Your life is so good that you find walking amusing."

"Sometimes yeh gotta 'preciate irony."

"Like the irony of going to the village of our sworn enemy? That kind of irony?"

Rōshi shrugged, regretting the gesture when his shoulder throbbed in protest. "Aye, somethin' like that."

"And why exactly are we going to Konoha?"

"'Cause that's where our base is."

"Our?" The disbelief in his voice was nearly a tangible thing. "You're working with someone? You're working with Konoha?"

"Don' be daft. Konoha'd kill me afore workin' with me. Th' Rokubi Jinchūriki an' I are trainin' th' Kyūbi Jinchūriki."

There was a long moment of silence while Han seemed to process what the older Iwa-nin had just said. Rōshi considered how best to elaborate on his statement, knowing it was a gross oversimplification of the last six months, but before he could, Han's giant hand had wrapped around his throat and hoisted him into the air. "You'll train another Jinchūriki, an enemy Jinchūriki," he thundered, "before you'll train me? What are you playing at, Rōshi?"

"It's been twenty years," rasped the redhead, "an' I already tol' yeh it wasn' my call. I'm here now ter give yeh somethin' better than yeh've got. Yeh think things can't change?"

"Things, yes. You, no."

"I came fer yeh, didn' I?"

Han's anger slowly appeared to subside as he digested the redhead's words. He lowered the aloft Jinchūriki, taking a step back when Rōshi's feet were again on solid ground. When he spoke, his voice had returned to a measured baritone, though a trace of hostility still remained. "What's the point of all this?"

"Eh?"

"You're going to tell me that you've been in Konoha, working with other Jinchūriki, all to, what, rescue me from Iwa twenty years too late?"

"It's all part o' th' plan."

"Against Akatsuki…right," intoned the armored shinobi. Skepticism dripped from every word. "Your plan sounds brilliant."

"It ain't my plan."

"Well that changes everything," came the sarcastic response. "I'm reassured knowing that you're not the mastermind of this nonsense. Your last plan that involved me worked out so well."

"Give it a rest," Rōshi grumbled. "I did what I was tol', no diff'rent than yeh. Yeh think I like followin' th' Tsuchikage's orders?"

Han snorted. Rōshi's dark eyes flickered over to him, and for a moment, he wished the steam-user's face was visible; he sounded almost bemused by the suggestion, and any confirmation of their shared humor would be a boon to swaying Han to their side. "I suppose not." They walked in silence for several minutes, Rōshi trying to straighten his staggering in order to keep up with the younger Jinchūriki's giant strides, when the armored shinobi suddenly cleared his throat. "What happened that day? The day I was…"

"When yeh were sealed?" Han made a noise of confirmation, though to Rōshi's trained ears, it sounded like he was trying to feign disinterest. "Yeh don' remember?"

"It was a busy day over twenty years ago!" Han snapped. "I'd be surprised if you remembered—"

"Aye, I remember," he interjected. "Yeh don' ferget somethin' like that…"

His pocket shook, an intense heat radiating from within. Rōshi dug his hand into his pocket, pulling out the river rock engraved with his call sign. The kanji was glowing a bright reddish-orange, and it vibrated within his clenched fingers. Now what?

He exited his hideout in the southern mountain range of the Land of Earth, looking northeast in the direction of the Hidden Rock, but a thundering through the earth drew his attention directly east. A cloud of dust on the horizon greeted him, a feeling of dread coiling in his stomach at the sight. Ōnoki had been claiming since the end of the Second Shinobi World War that another conflict was on the horizon, but the redhead hadn't expected something so literal to come knocking on his doorstep.

He took off in the direction of the approaching dust cloud, sprinting across the wasteland to intercept the threat. Much quicker than he expected, apparently because the imminent threat was covering more ground than him, the enemy was revealed.

Several hundred feet tall and twice as long, a horse-like creature covered in snow-white fur galloped towards him. Five elegant tails whipped behind it as its hooves pounded a thunderous frenzy across the Land of Earth. Its head was the only non-equine feature, its oblong shape more reminiscent of a sea creature, four long protrusions spiking from the back of its head like reversed horns. Despite having never seen it before, it was obvious what he was facing, and why he'd been called.

Th' Gobi…

He blazed through hand seals and slammed his palms against the ground. Doton: Retsudo Tenshō!

The land ruptured, blocks of solid earth rising and falling at random as the Tearing Earth Turning Palm technique took effect, creating a massive shift in the landscape. Rōshi hoped it would delay the massive Bijū, giving him a moment to come up with a strategy.

The Five-Tails leaped over it, and Rōshi craned his neck to watch the Tailed Beast – almost majestic in midair – avoid every pitfall of his altered landscape. When it landed, the earth fell away beneath its hooves, creating a massive pit which appeared to contain the creature.

"So you got my message, eh?"

Dark eyes turned to the sky, where the diminutive form of the Tsuchikage floated above him. Rōshi scowled, watching his father bring his hands together and form a spark of white chakra that quickly expanded into a semi-translucent cube. "Are yeh mad?!" he hollered.

"Drastic times!" Ōnoki yelled back. "Jinton: Genkai Hakuri no Jutsu!"

Rōshi bounded out of range of the disintegration technique as heavy, hot, white smoke – like boiling fog – rolled across the area. A rush of wind sent the white haze rushing past him, and when he turned around, the Gobi was in the air again, head lowered to ram Ōnoki. The tiny Tsuchikage held his ground, spitting earth over his fist and hardening it to stone before punching the Five-Tails.

It buckled under the blow, head practically bowed in deference to the strength of the Third Earth Shadow. As its body fell, its tails came up and struck the unsuspecting Iwa-nin, sending Ōnoki hurtling through the air. The Tsuchikage righted himself and roared, "Are you gonna just stand there or are you gonna do something?!"

"Aye, I'm workin' on it! Yōton: Kakazan!"

"Do you think I care about how you fought the Gobi?" Han interrupted testily.

"Yeh wanted ter know 'bout that day," Rōshi argued.

"I want to know why it was me," growled the armored shinobi. "You were there, you have to know the reason!"

Aye, I wish I did.

The truth was, he had no idea where Han had come from, why he'd been chosen, or anything else associated with the larger Jinchūriki. He and Ōnoki had eventually contained the Gobi after a long battle in a wasteland marked by divots, uneven earthen features, cooling lava, and broken rock. The pair were holding their position atop the Five-Tails' elegant back, hands channeling chakra into the creature to keep it buckled under its own Chōkajūgan-affected mass, when the sealing team had finally begun their task. He hadn't seen the auburn-haired waif of a child who had been turned into Iwa's newest weapon until the sealing had been completed, and even then, Han had remained blissfully unconscious, and Rōshi had been too tired to question anything.

In his 27 years of life to that point, the Gobi had been the hardest battle he'd fought by far; he hadn't even been able to resist when his brother had approached and thrown the redhead's arm over his shoulder in a gesture of support.

He shook off the memory. "Yeh still don' remember anythin' 'bout yer past?"

Han didn't immediately respond, and Rōshi gave up the conversation as lost. Between the redhead's isolation and the armored shinobi's resentment, that their dialogue had continued as amicably as it had was a feat unto itself. "Nothing relevant," Han finally said in a gruff voice.

"Mm."

They lapsed into silence after that, and the redhead spent his energy focusing on how to make his travel as physically painless as possible. He shot infrequent glances at the giant Jinchūriki beside him, trying to judge his companion's mood, but Han remained unreadable, his eyes fixed straight ahead. Rōshi let him be; Han needed time, and probably exposure to Naruto, and until they reached Konoha, he could only grant one of those.

So they traveled in silence, at an even more sedate pace than the one Rōshi had used to get from Konoha to the Valley of Fog, stopping to eat and rest as needed. When they reached the Land of Grass, Han's interest seemed to pique, his head swiveling around to take in the sights of the vast green expanses noticeably absent from the Land of Earth.

That interest only increased when the Land of Grass gave way to the Land of Fire, its towering trees and bright flora a captivating sight. Rōshi stayed silent in the wake of his fellow Iwa-nin's quiet awe, taking a deep breath of the temperate air and allowing clean forest air, not dust and desolation, to fill his pained lungs. Ahh…

"So this is where you've been staying, hm?" Han seemed to make an active effort of looking around, not bothering to disguise his intrigue. "Quaint."

"Aye, it's diff'rent than Iwa, that's fer sure." He continued moving deeper into the country. "C'mon, we ain't there yet."

It was still several more days before they reached the spot Rōshi had taken to training Naruto, a little outside of Konoha proper. Their campsite was still there, as empty as he'd left it; that Utakata hadn't returned probably wasn't something to be too concerned about. There was no telling how long it would take to locate the Nibi and Hachibi Jinchūriki in the Hidden Cloud, nor the Ichibi or Nanabi Jinchūriki, if his intention was to go for all available resources.

"Everything looks the same."

"Aye, there's no gettin' bearin's, that's fer sure."

"So…this is it then?"

"Aye. Now we wait."

"For what?"

"A Jinchūriki ter show up."

"And how long will that take?"

Rōshi shrugged. "If Naruto don' show soon, I'll go git 'im."

Han leaned against a tree with a huff of annoyance, arms crossed over his chest. "Whatever." The Yonbi Jinchūriki followed his example, sitting down at the base of a trunk and massaging his aches as a sense of exhaustion came over him. His eyes began to droop as the weight of his travels suddenly became too much.

Something wrapped around him, and dark eyes snapped open to find roots binding him to the tree trunk. Across from him, Han was struggling against his own bonds, but his strength seemed diminished. Rōshi's own limbs felt heavy, as if he'd used the Kajūgan on himself and couldn't handle the increased weight. Genjutsu, he surmised with an annoyed grimace. Th' soft shinobi art. His head lolled backwards against the tree, dark eyes spying innumerable porcelain masks staring down at him. ANBU…so yeh finally found us, eh?

One of them was holding out his palm towards the pair of Iwa-nin. Rōshi felt a strange lethargy at the power emanating from this Konoha-nin, one which dragged at his body's core. "Do not resist, and you will not be harmed," spoke the ANBU. Lightning raced down from above, forming a collar of electricity around his neck. "You have no other recourse than to submit."

Rōshi took a moment to assess his surroundings before managing a lazy, rolling gesture with his shoulders, an attempt at a shrug. "Aye, if yeh say so."

Chapter Text

"There's something different about you today."

Utakata tried to hide the grin that crossed his lips, but his training hadn't gotten to the point where his emotional control was stronger than his childlike glee. "You think?"

Yagura's pupil-less pink eyes scrutinized him, trying to pinpoint the change in his friend. After several moments, the grey-haired boy snapped his fingers in realization. "You graduated!"

The Rokubi Jinchūriki beamed. "Yep!" He flapped his arms wildly, the oversized sleeves of his predecessor's blue kimono giving him the appearance of an awkward bat. Strips of white fabric were woven through the cuffs, matching the white sash around his waist that cinched the robe closed.

"Good job. You've been working hard."

Utakata turned away, abashed. He looked out over the lake, listening to the water gently lap against the shore. "I still have a ways to go."

"There's always more to learn," Yagura advised quietly, "but everyone starts somewhere. And now you're further along on your journey. Every step makes us more of an asset to the village. Maybe then people will take us seriously."

"Yeah…" the brunet agreed in a quiet voice. An asset to the village… Like his father had been. Maybe by serving the village, he would finally be seen as something more than a child.

Or a nuisance.

Maybe then he could finally do something good.

Utakata floated over the Land of Lightning with his Drifting Bubble Technique, looking down at the craggy country from high above. As difficult as the search for the Jinchūriki was, he would admit that it was a novel experience being able to casually explore the Elemental Nations like this.

As casually as one could while running from both a criminal syndicate bent on his capture and the hunter-nin the Hidden Mist had surely deployed to continue tracking him.

Still, the adventure was more than he'd experienced while in Kiri. While serving as a shinobi of the Hidden Mist, his missions had kept him almost exclusively relegated to the Land of Water. At first, he'd thought it a strange decision by the Mist hierarchy, including his master Harusame. Then he'd thought it might be Yagura trying to protect him.

Now it seemed apparent that the idea had been to keep the Rokubi contained to the village as much as possible.

Whatever the reason, he'd been sheltered from the outside world, unable to properly view its majesty. Where the Land of Fire was warm and welcoming, its green canopies a splendor to a boy raised in dreary grey fog, the Land of Lightning was all towering mountains capped in grey-white clouds. In the crevices of the mountain ranges flowed quiet, blue rivers; with his eyes closed, Utakata could imagine them reaching the ocean, trickling water bringing him a semblance of serenity.

He took a deep breath and brought himself out of his trance. While he could enjoy the geography before him and how small it made him feel in the midst of everything happening in his life, the sheer enormity of his surroundings also worked against him.

Unlike with Naruto, where he knew the story of the Kyūbi attack, all he knew about the Nibi and Hachibi Jinchūriki were that they were from Kumo…which could mean anything. Were they in Kumo itself? How old were they, what were their level of skill? Were they loyal to Kumo, or was the relationship more tenuous, like Roshi's with Iwa?

Too many questions with no answers. He felt as lost as he had when he'd first left Kiri, wandering aimlessly and hoping for the best. It worked to find Rōshi, he thought wryly. I wasn't even trying then.

Of course, compared to how he'd accidentally stumbled upon the redhead after months of simply trying to evade Kiri's patrols, the…weeks? Months? He'd lost track of time, it all just seemed to blur together…of traveling to and then combing over the Land of Lightning for any sign of something Jinchūriki-related was becoming irksome.

Thunder grumbled above him, and Utakata glanced up to find that grey storm clouds had rolled in while he'd been lost in thought. He sighed and directed the bubble to descend into the mountain ranges below. As drab and gloomy as the Land of Water was, at least it was consistent; the Land of Lightning's storms were sudden, frequent, and annoying. His method of travel was far too high up to make him comfortable amidst the lightning for which the country was named, so he was forced to temporarily halt his search each time a storm cropped up.

He alighted on the ground when his camouflaged bubble popped and scoped his surroundings, looking for a cave or outcropping of rock for shelter. The rain didn't bother him – at least, not when it wasn't being manipulated by the oinin to suppress his abilities – but there was something…clean about the regional showers that made Utakata feel dirty for trespassing. When nothing immediately apparent drew his attention, the Kiri-nin began to jump across the land, keeping a keen eye out for someplace protective.

As the skies opened up and a light rain began to fall, the Jinchūriki's sharp golden eyes spotted an unnatural protrusion off the side of a mountain. What's that? He angled towards the anomaly, eventually finding an overlook in a perch of rocks partway up a mountain to scrutinize what lay below.

It looked like a temple built into the side of the mountains, a two-tiered structure with roofs of blue tiles styled like a pagoda, curved at the eaves. A staircase made of what the Kiri-nin could only assume was stone led from the temple to what he could now see was a rough path carved through the terrain. Someone lives all the way out here? For a moment, he struggled to imagine someone living so far outside the realm of civilization, but then he remembered Rōshi and the redhead's decades of isolation. Could one of the Jinchūriki live here?

The thought spurred him to move closer, careful of his footing over the slick geology. As he drew closer, he could make out the finer details of the temple: ornate wooden railings, bamboo blinds, white paneling… It struck him as strangely traditional in a world that was continually modernizing. Then again, Utakata had never been one to put much stock in faith, so any religious implications of the design were lost on him. Abstract statues of some creature, painted black and blue and with a mammalian appearance, flanked the front doors of the building. Strange design choice…

Matatabi always did attract a fervent following.

Saiken's voice in his head sounded almost bemused. Matatabi? Is that one of the Bijū?

Something long and thin, almost like a senbon, settled against his neck. Unlike a senbon, it was sharp along its length rather than just the tips, a fact he knew by the edge that tickled his jugular. A presence behind him made itself known by demanding, "Who are you?"

The voice was rough but feminine, with an authoritative edge that took no prisoners. With a calm that belied the tension coiled in his muscles, Utakata replied, "Just a refugee seeking shelter from the storm."

A small gasp escaped his throat as the sharp edge held there nicked him. A drop of blood dribbled down his neck and mixed with the falling rainwater, lost in the sea of the storm. "Refugees don't use genjutsu to appear out of thin air, so I'll ask again: who are you?"

She saw that? How long has she been watching me? Aware of his precarious situation, Utakata decided to drop the layer of chakra serving as his second skin. Acid dissolved the weapon holding him hostage, eliciting an unexpected hiss of pain from the kunoichi behind him and causing her to retreat. The Kiri-nin took the moment to distance himself from his assailant, turning around to face her.

She was cradling one hand with the other, the long claws of the former retracting back into her nails. Dirty blond hair partially covered her Kumo hitae-ate and fell down her back in a braided ponytail. Dark pants fell to mid-calf, a red sash slung around her hips; bandages covered the rest of her calves and the entirety of her forearms, ending in black, fingerless gloves. A black short-sleeved shirt with lavender-colored midriff completed her outfit. Furious eyes leveled a glare at him. "Whatever your ability is won't protect you from me."

"I'm not here for a fight," Utakata offered in a rush, trying to dissuade her from attacking. "Really, I'm just a bit lost—"

"You obviously use chakra, which means you're a shinobi," the kunoichi snarled. "And you're not from Kumo, which makes you a threat. Nezumi Kedama!"

A fist-sized mass of darkness shrouded in indigo-colored flame burst from her mouth. Utakata flipped through hand seals and saturated the rain with his chakra. "Suiton: Suijinheki!"

Falling liquid consolidated into a wall of water meant to intercept the Mouse Hairball. Feet before the jutsu collided, the incoming mass split into multiple projectiles that zipped around the Water Formation Wall. Golden eyes went wide as the individual fireballs closed in. What?!

He inverted the Suijinheki, wrapping himself in a sphere of water that barely cocooned him from each fireball's explosion. His defense lost cohesion, and he was blown backwards amid a field of rocky debris. The rain helped quench the resulting dust, and Utakata looked up in time to see the kunoichi appear before him in a blur of dark clothes and pale hair. Claws sliced through his kimono and into his bicep, drawing lines of red along pale skin. The Kiri-nin hissed in pain, a sound echoed by the kunoichi across from him. Black eyes glared in hatred as she once more cradled her hand. "What kind of jutsu is this?"

A curse… Utakata thought, his own hand gripping his injured arm. "I'm really not interested in a fight," he insisted. "My…ability…it's innate, but controllable. And I'd be more than happy to deactivate it if you'd stop attacking me. I really was just looking at the temple for shelter."

"You're not going to convince me you have pure intentions," snarled the kunoichi. "Kumogakure does not take kindly to trespassers. That you would try to leverage the kindness of the Kyūshō acolytes to advantage your village—"

"Kyūshō acolytes?"

The followers of Matatabi, I presume.

"And who's Matatabi?" he asked aloud, annoyed that Saiken still hadn't clarified.

"How do you know of Matatabi?" the kunoichi demanded.

"I don't even know who Matatabi is!" Utakata protested. The seemingly permanent hostility in the Cloud shinobi's voice and posture was becoming more worrisome by the second. He wasn't interested in engaging in a fight that would only distract and delay his mission…at least, more than it already had.

She scoffed. "You can stop pretending you're ignorant. Only a handful of people know the Nibi's real name—"

"That temple is where the Nibi is?" Utakata glanced over at the building in the distance, surprised at the revelation.

"No," asserted the kunoichi. "The Nibi is right here. My name is Nii Yugito, and as a shinobi of Kumogakure, I swear you won't escape me."

Utakata didn't have a chance to marvel at his luck of stumbling across the Two-Tails' Jinchūriki before she charged. She slashed at him with elongated claws, apparently deciding that the damage she could do to him was worth the contact with his acidic skin. He weaved around her slashes, leaning backwards to avoid a kick with sharp toenails, two nimble shinobi engaged in an aggressive dance.

Fighting Yugito was quite different from sparring with Rōshi. The redhead's moves were rigid but purposeful, power behind every simple punch. But Yugito was constant movement, a whirling dervish, relying on the rending power of her elongated claws than any other physical prowess. In a way, the Kumo-nin's taijutsu style perfectly complemented Utakata's own method of contorting around attacks, leaving his mind free to strategize.

He dodged a downward slash aimed at his uninjured arm, jumping backwards when she used her feet to stab at his legs. She dove at him, turning herself into a spiralling corkscrew of sharp appendages. Utakata's hands flew through familiar seals, chakra intermingling with the rain. Suiton: Baikufu no Jutsu!

Rain came together in a deluge that poured on the spinning kunoichi, driving her into the ground under its force. The renegade Kiri-nin had a brief moment to wish that he had some sort of restraining ninjutsu he could activate from afar – like the Water Prison Technique, but without getting in range of the Kumo-nin – before Yugito was back on her feet. She was drenched from his attack, a snarl on her lips, fury emanating from every molecule of her being.

That fury seemed to morph into actual heat, an aura of steam emanating from her form. She's just like Rōshi, Utakata deduced. Proficient with Katon and stubborn to a fault. Great…

"Rengokuen!"

A fireball erupted from the kunoichi's mouth, rapidly growing to a diameter multiple times Utakata's height. He dropped flat to the ground, allowing acid to ooze out of his pores and erode the rocky terrain, creating a trench that he furrowed into. Heat seared his back as the Purgatory Flame roared by, fumes volatilizing off his acidic skin. With the Rokubi's gift, he burrowed through the ground, eventually popping up with an uppercut aimed at Yugito's jaw.

The Cloud shinobi flipped backwards to avoid the attack, her long toenails raking bloody gashes along his chest and dissolving against his acidic skin. They recoiled from each other, each nursing their own injuries.

Utakata pulled his hand away from the lacerations on his chest, inspecting the blood staining his fingers. She could kill me if she wanted, but how she's attacking…she's just trying to debilitate me. She wants information. He looked up at the kunoichi across from him. I suppose it could be worse…at least we have the same goal. "I don't suppose you're willing to listen to me now?" he called. "You're not going to kill me, and I don't want to fight you. We're in a—"

She charged him then, fire in her eyes and along her claws. "Stalemate," he sighed, anticipating her acrobatics and weaving appropriately. The Kumo-nin's chakra flared black and blue, the specter of a feline shadowing her form. Her speed suddenly increased, and Utakata suffered another slash across his chest in the face of the renewed onslaught.

A small explosion – the result of her fire contacting his acidic skin – blew the pair apart and sent them tumbling across the rocky terrain in opposite directions. Utakata swayed unsteadily to his feet, shaking his head in an attempt to cure his disorientation. This isn't working. I was hoping to avoid this…

He withdrew his bamboo blower as Yugito spat out another indigo-colored gout of flame. With a long exhale, a multitude of bubbles escaped the end and floated around him. When the Mouse Hairball split apart, the Kiri-nin directed the bubbles out, each sphere capturing an incoming projectile and containing it.

The immediate threat neutralized, he expelled more bubbles and sent them after the Nibi Jinchūriki, creating a field of floating spheres. Yugito charged through with lightning speed, her lithe form weaving among each obstacle with impressive grace. He manipulated the bubbles so they were closer together, and when she disappeared from view, he snapped his fingers, causing a series of miniature explosions.

Green goo burst from each ruptured sphere, saturating the vicinity – and Utakata – in a sticky, viscous material.

"Ugh! What is this?"

The Mist renegade craned his head to find the kunoichi behind him, her limbs stuck awkwardly to her body by the goo. More adhesive kept her glued to the ground, its elasticity tested with every gesture she made to escape. Utakata turned his body to face her fully, already at work on changing the chemical properties of the goo covering himself to negate its stickiness. Exasperated, and with a brief window of time to talk, he hurriedly explained, "Look, I came here to warn you that you're in danger!"

With as close as she was, it was easy to see the Kumo-nin's dark eyes narrow with suspicion. "Kumogakure is aware of what's out there, not that it should matter to you."

Utakata shook his head. "I'm not talking about Kumo, I'm talking about you. You and the Hachibi Jinchūriki."

She snorted. "Kumogakure trained us to handle anything that comes our way. Whatever danger you think is out there is hardly a concern."

He hesitated for a moment before responding, mentally noting that Yugito's pride seemed to be blinding her to his message. "Maybe you believe that, but I don't think you really understand what you're up against. Akatsuki—"

"You're the one who doesn't know what he's up against!" Yugito shot back. "Killer B-sama and I are more than capable of taking care of ourselves!" Her chakra flared again, but instead of disappearing, it gathered around her and continued to grow, trails of steam rising from where raindrops hissed against the fiery aura.

Utakata's mouth, open to respond to the kunoichi's assertions, became an 'o' of awe and trepidation as a towering two-tailed cat with a pair of mismatched eyes – one green, one yellow – and fur made of blue and black crackling flames took shape before him. She can summon the Nibi?!

The Two-Tails roared, and Utakata felt his bones quake. One flaming blue paw came down, and the Kiri-nin threw himself clear of the impact zone, though its reverberations shook the earth. With a yowl, flickers of flame shot off the Bijū's fur and formed into winged projectiles that Utakata realized were birds. Not good. They zipped towards him on swift wings, and Utakata expelled an acidic Violent Water Wave at the ground that created a foxhole he dove into.

With Saiken's acidic chakra oozing from his pores, he again tunneled away from the impact zone of the fiery fliers, explosions shaking the earth as he dug through the underground. Within seconds, he could hear the sound of rushing water, and as he broke through rock to find a river, fire filled the tunnel at his back, its heat searing.

River water rushed into the tunnel and pulled Utakata into its cool embrace. The Six-Tails' jailor kicked his feet to swim away as water and fire met, the river behind him suddenly boiling. His head broke the river's surface and he gasped in air, craning his neck to find the Nibi's head bowed over the area he'd disappeared into the ground.

Utakata allowed the river's flow – swollen and rushing with falling stormwater – to carry him far away from Nii Yugito. Thunder boomed overhead, but even that wasn't enough to drown out the feeling of failure that thumped in time with his heartbeat. When he eventually reached the ocean that bound the Land of Lightning's southern coast, the storm had stopped, and he forced himself to summon a bubble that took him into the sky and away from the mountainous country.

Face cupped in his palm, Utakata gazed down at the land far below with vacant eyes and heaved a sigh. He was at a loss for what to do next, and the past week of floating listlessly over the Elemental Nations had only deepened his melancholy.

Wallowing does not suit you.

"No?" he replied aloud. "Because it sure feels appropriate."

Setbacks are not uncommon—

"A setback?" Utakata let out a laughing scoff that wouldn't have been out of place coming from Rōshi's mouth. "Is that what you think that was? I had her, Saiken! I had the Nibi Jinchūriki, and I just…" he gestured around him, as if the empty void of the surrounding sky was answer enough, "left."

You had no options. The slug's boyish voice was almost reassuring, though firm. Hostility is not conducive to your alliance.

"Works with Rōshi," the brunet muttered.

But not for you and me. Or you and Yagura, or Yagura and Isobu, Saiken listed. Nor has it helped you with Naruto.

Utakata hummed his agreement, biting back the urge to tell the Bijū his comment had been more sarcastic than introspective. Saiken had a point, one further supported by the hostility Rōshi seemed to hold for the Four-Tails, for society as a whole. The redhead's animosity hadn't helped in their initial meetings with Naruto, and any additional strife among Jinchūriki – or between a Jinchūriki and his/her Bijū – was more likely to hinder their plans. "So what do you suggest at this point?"

Press on, the Rokubi advised. When you encounter an obstacle, you work around it. Do you think I remained idle after being sealed?

From experience, the Kiri-nin already knew the answer, but he still replied, "No."

Then perhaps you should consider your next course of action rather than indulging your self-pity.

With the slug's youthful timbre, it sounded like a suggestion, but the bubble-user heard the command it was intended to be. "Yeah, okay. Okay…" he repeated, golden eyes scanning the ground below. "So where are we?"

Who knows? You've been aimless since we left Matatabi's Jinchūriki.

Utakata groaned, massaging his temples with thumb and middle finger. "Yeah yeah, I get it already. We've been going west since we left. From Lightning, there's Frost, Hot Water, then…I don't remember. If Kumo's off limits, then that just leaves the Ichibi and Nanabi. One of them's got to be in Suna, so I guess we'll go there."

That sounds like a sensible plan.

"It's nice to know I have your approval again." There was no response from the giant gastropod; Utakata mused that Saiken seemed to have little appreciation for the lilt of sarcasm he'd acquired from Rōshi. As the bubble continued to take him west, the brunet posed, "Why didn't you give me your chakra when I was fighting Yugito? Or against Rōshi when he attacked me?"

It is not right for the Bijū to be in conflict. War and strife are concepts humankind has created to utilize my brethren and me for personal gains. We have our differences and…personal squabbles, but to be forced to fight one another by humans, even our own Jinchūriki, would disrespect the wishes of our father.

"Your father?"

The one you know as the Rikudō Sennin.

Golden eyes widened in surprise. "The Rikudō Sennin? I thought he was a myth."

He is not.

Saiken didn't seem willing to elaborate, and the brunet felt that he would continue having questions if he fell down that rabbit hole, so he instead said, "So I shouldn't rely on you in a fight against another Jinchūriki. The other Bijū don't seem to share your compassion," he noted wryly.

I can only control my own actions. Contrary to popular belief, the Bijū are not all-powerful.

"Sure seems like it when you're staring one in the face," Utakata muttered, too annoyed to appreciate the slug's droll attempt at humor.

His petulant mood was blown asunder – quite literally – by a buffet of wind that sent his bubble careening through the open sky. He bounced twice against the inside surface of the sphere before its elasticity failed, popping to send him plummeting to the ground far below. Within seconds, his bamboo blower was in his hands, another Drifting Bubble forming at its opening, but a second rush of air knocked the instrument loose from his grip.

He made a grab for it, but it had already been blown free of his reach. A curse slipped past his lips as he tried to think of a way out of slamming into the approaching ground at terminal velocity. As if to prove how fruitless his efforts of forming another bubble would be, a third blast of wind slammed into him, turning him into a tumbling ball of blue cloth.

In the midst of his freefall, clear blue water caught his eye, and he blazed through seals at a speed borne of desperation. Suiton: Suiryūdan no Jutsu!

A spindly dragon made of water burst from the source he'd spotted and roared up towards him. It opened its liquid maw wide and snapped him out of the air before the next barrage of wind could hit him, then dove back down to where it had originated. Utakata took a moment to enjoy being submerged in the refreshing water before swimming up, breaking the surface with a gasp.

The second his head broke free, a continuous stream of wind hammered him, strong enough to disperse the water immediately around him and carry him over its surface liked a skipped stone. He rolled gracelessly over fresh green grass before slamming into a tree trunk that knocked the air from his lungs. Utakata inhaled sharply, and by the time the world had stopped spinning around him, a foot was pressed on his stomach, and a small whirlwind circling a couple of fingers was held beneath his chin, ruffling his long bangs. "Who are you?" demanded a young voice.

This is becoming familiar, the brunet thought, looking up into his captor's face. A thin-lipped mouth and pupil-less orange eyes narrowed with suspicion stared at him from a bronze-skinned feminine face framed by short, mint green hair. "I'm nobody, really, I—I was just traveling along when—"

"You're lying," interrupted the girl haughtily, "and Taki doesn't appreciate intruders."

"I'm not an intruder," the Kiri-nin protested, slightly annoyed he had to keep defending himself on that point. "I was hundreds of feet in the air above you, and—wait, did you say Taki? I'm in Taki?" He shook his head – wary of the wind at his throat – to clear the surprise from his features. Focus on that later. "You must be an amazing sensor to know I was up there," he tried genially. "You couldn't have possibly seen me."

"I'm the greatest sensor there is-ssu. That's why it's my job to protect Taki from people like you."

"I'm not interested in Taki," Utakata repeated, "really." The kunoichi's orange eyes remained hard, and the brunet let out a huff of annoyance. "You can tell if someone's lying? Why don't you ask me whatever you want, see what my intentions are? I'll answer honestly this time, I swear."

"Fine," returned the Waterfall shinobi. "Who are you?"

"My name's Utakata."

"Where are you from?

"Kirigakure."

Orange eyes narrowed slightly, and the brunet wondered what she saw in his simple answer. The truth, after all, was far more complicated than the name of his former home. "Why were you above Taki?"

"I got lost. I was going to Suna when you attacked me."

The kunoichi seemed to relax at that admission, the whirlwind beneath his chin disappearing. Utakata breathed a small sigh of relief as his interrogator stepped back from him, hands on her hips. Now that she wasn't in his face, the Kiri-nin was able to get a good look at her. She wore a sleeveless white shirt that left her midriff bare, with fishnet underneath that was snug against her petite frame. More fishnet was visible under a white skirt that had slits on each side, and white armlets covered her arms from wrist to lower bicep. A hitae-ate was wrapped around her right bicep, and some sort of red fabric created an 'X' over her chest, going over her shoulders and under her arms to hold up a burden he couldn't see. "What's in Suna?" she asked, and her voice suddenly lacked all hostility. She sounded almost…wistful. Genuinely curious.

"I'm looking for someone there. Someone special."

"Special? The Elders say I'm special-ssu," she chirped.

"That's…nice," Utakata offered, trying to politely separate himself from the conversation. Since he'd managed to answer her questions without instigating a fight, he wanted to leave before anything else went wrong.

"Mmm…" She seemed oblivious to his discomfort, placing a finger to her chin and tapping it in cheery thought. "Well, no one else can do what I do."

"Your abilities are impressive," admitted the Kiri-nin, "but if you don't mind—"

"Who're you lookin' for?" she chirped.

Utakata shot her a look of pure bewilderment. "Uh, why does that matter?"

"I like knowin' things. And you're, mm…" her head cocked to the side, studying him, "bein' kinda weird."

"You don't know anything about me."

"Don't need to, it's super obvious. Your chakra's really agitated." She paused, then asked, "So, you gonna tell me who it is?"

Utakata sighed, feeling resigned to play the girl's games. Not like she'll know who it is anyway. "I'm trying to find the Jinchūriki—ow!"

His head snapped back against the tree trunk, blown backwards by a sudden gust of wind. The Taki-nin's expression was suddenly fierce, orange eyes hard with anger, all trace of playfulness gone. "Don't call me that," she growled. "I'm Fū-ssu! Fū-ssu!"

"I—what?" The feeling of disorientation was dissipating, though now his head was pounding with a mixture of pain and adrenaline. "Are you a Jin-"—he cut himself off, reading the hate in her orange eyes—"you said you're special," he corrected cautiously. "What makes you special?"

She didn't answer, just continued to glare at him, breath coming in ragged inhales. Utakata looked her over, the picture of anger personified, scrutinizing her with an intensity absent from his original once-over. Her reaction was too intense to have been anything but personal, but… Where's her mark? he wondered. Yagura, Rōshi, and Naruto all had obvious physical signs of the Bijū they contained, but Fū's outward appearance suggested no similar marker. Maybe she's like me? "Fū," he repeated, voice gentle, "how are you special?" When she still didn't respond, he probed, "Do you know about the Bijū?"

She flinched at that, her steely gaze wavering, but continued to stare mutely at the Kiri-nin. Utakata met her orange eyes, trying to silently communicate some semblance of understanding, but she seemed to be looking through him, sight locked on to something only she could see. "If you're a Jin—if you have a Bijū sealed in you," he corrected, noting the way her body shook at the term 'Jinchūriki', "you're not alone. I've got one, too."

"Really?" Her voice was suddenly small, a child learning something new.

He nodded as she moved away from him, back to being more curious than hostile. "The Rokubi's inside me. And there are more like us. I've been looking for them…for you, if you're like me."

Fū visibly hesitated before offering in an unsure voice, "The Elders say…the Nanabi's sealed inside me."

"They…say?" Utakata repeated. "You've never contacted the Nanabi?"

The Taki-nin shook her head. "Why would I-ssu? I could do what they wanted already."

She's like Naruto, the brunet noted, at least as far as her connection to her Bijū. She's definitely been trained better than him. "What did they want from you?"

"Someone to protect the village," she replied in monotone. It sounded like she was reciting something from memory that she'd been told repeatedly but had no faith in. "To make sure that Takigakure continues to remain safe from invaders."

"And what do you want?" Utatata quietly probed.

Fū opened her mouth to respond and then closed it. Hesitation was plainly written across her face, as if she couldn't give voice to the desire she held inside. Knowing how the Jinchūriki were treated, it was likely she'd never been asked, or that any expression of that desire had resulted in something…unpleasant. "I want to be normal," she whispered. "Everyone treats me like I'm…I dunno, diseased." Now that the floodgates had been opened, the timbre of her voice was steadily growing more incensed as more words flowed out of her mouth. "My parents have never spoken to me, no one cares about me, everyone calls me that horrible word…Jinchūriki," she spat.

"And I don't even know what I did-ssu!" she cried. "They told me to protect the village, and all I've done is stay here and watch for any invaders! But no one ever comes, either from out there or from in here, and no one cares about any of it! I hate them!" she hissed, voice pure venom. Then her shoulders slumped, snarl relaxing into something forlorn; gone was the angry kunoichi, and in her place was left a figure Utakata had seen far too often in the mirror: a broken Jinchūriki. "But I really just want someone to like me for me."

She started crying then, her sorrow muffled but not unheard. It was the tears of someone who'd done it repeatedly in solitude, resigned to the monotony of striving for something that seemed so easy to everyone else, but was unattainable for her and her alone. Utakata remained silent throughout the Taki-nin's breakdown, allowing her to grieve for her loss with as much privacy as he could afford her.

She doesn't know…

It wasn't news that Jinchūriki were prone to receiving the short end of the stick; he'd experienced it himself, seen it with Yagura, heard about it from Rōshi and Naruto. Normally that treatment had a purpose: Yagura was intended to be the Mizukage who would put Kiri back on the map, and Utakata and Rōshi were top-tier shinobi (or supposed to be), meant to advantage the villages they served in open conflict.

Weapons.

But Fū…she wasn't even that. The Hidden Waterfall's military couldn't compare with any of the Five Great Shinobi Nations, and based on how they utilized their Jinchūriki, they weren't interested in trying. She was a tool, relegated to be used for a single circumstance, but otherwise kept in a metaphorical cage, locked away in the dark.

The other Jinchūriki had freedom (or a facsimile of it), limited though it was. Rōshi had lived outside Iwa; Utakata had been sent on missions outside Kiri proper (though still within the Land of Water) as he'd risen through the ranks, limited though they were; even Yugito seemed to possess an autonomy the other cursed jailors did not, especially for one so loyal to her village (or perhaps because of it). But Fū had none of that, just the sad certainty of a life full of unappreciation in a village filled with hatred.

Utakata wished he knew how to empathize appropriately, but Fū's situation seemed so different from his own, sadder in so many ways, he didn't know how. So he sat, waiting, until the green-haired girl's tears dried and she seemed ready to listen to him once more. "There are people like us," he said, "who have gone through similar trials. I'm trying to find them and bring them together—"

"Why?"

"There's a group looking for the Jin—for us," he explained, changing his words at Fū's darkening expression. "They're dangerous, and if you face them alone, you'll die. But if we work together, I think we stand a chance of surviving. And if you're willing, I'd like you to come with me."

"To Suna?"

"At first," he agreed, "but then to Konoha. You'd have to leave here, but—"

"You think they'll be willing to be friends?" Fū interrupted. "That they'll like me?" Her voice was lilting, hopeful.

"Absolutely," Utakata answered automatically. He was this close to recruiting her, and after the disaster with the Nibi Jinchūriki, the bubble-user needed a win. "It…might take time, for some," he continued, Rōshi's lack of social niceties coming to mind, "but there will always be someone who'll support you." He thought of Naruto, accepting of others heedless of their attitude towards him. Naruto…I'm counting on you.

"Then let's go." She shrugged out of the burden on her back, a red cylinder several feet long dropping to the ground behind her. Utakata didn't know what it was, but symbolically he supposed it represented a release from the life she'd led thus far. If he could lose the kimono that constrained the Robubi's gift, a vestige of his own hardships in Kiri, he would do so in a heartbeat.

He nodded. "Let's go."

The Kiri-nin reached for his waist, where his bubble blower was normally tucked away, but grasped only air. He sighed, remembering his tumble through the sky. "Maybe you can help me find something first."

"So what's in Suna?"

Utakata shot her a quick glance before returning his gaze to the surroundings below. They were headed more south than southwest with his Drifting Bubble Technique – now expanded to carry both Jinchūriki – and the Land of Waterfalls was giving way to the densely forested Land of Fire. "Like I said before, there's someone special there we need to find. Someone like us."

"Who is he?"

"That…is a good question," admitted the brunet. "I have no idea."

"So how do you know he's in Suna?"

Utakata hesitated. A discussion of how he knew would mean bringing up a lot of information related to being a Jinchūriki, and based on her previous reactions, he wasn't sure Fū could handle that. But not answering could risk their alliance, and that was far worse.

A wry snort of amusement escaped him; it was the same situation he'd been in with Rōshi all those months ago, only now with someone who sought to change their situation rather than stay mired in it. "The people like us," he began slowly, every word chosen with care, "are typically used for war. Trained properly, we're one-man armies, weapons capable of limitless destruction.

"The major Hidden Villages have the Bijū divided among them, theoretically to retain a balance of power. Kiri, Kumo, and Iwa all have two, and Konoha has one. Since you were in Taki, the last one has to be in Suna."

"There's only nine people like us-ssu?"

"Yes. We're lucky it's that small," he muttered, disenchantment coloring his tone. The life of a Jinchūriki was not one he would wish upon any more people than strictly necessary. "Anyway, that was a theory I had based on what I knew about global geopolitics and history. One of my…friends"—it felt weird referring to Rōshi as a friend, considering where they'd started and everything they'd been through, but he supposed that was the easiest word to use right now—"confirmed my theory."

Fū nodded in understanding, and, questions apparently answered, took to looking outside the bubble at the view below. Utakata watched her from his periphery, a small grin stretching across his lips as her orange eyes widened with awe. The brunet left her alone, allowing her to enjoy the splendor of the world outside the Hidden Waterfall Village. He remembered having the same reaction in the moments he'd been able to enjoy the different scenery after escaping the Land of Water.

They remained in a state of quiet camaraderie over the course of their travel to the Hidden Sand, taking breaks to eat and sleep as needed. Growing up as he had had never granted Utakata the ability to become adept at social norms like small talk, but it seemed Fū wasn't all that different – unsurprising given her background – and was okay with the silence.

On the third day, the forest thinned to leafy canopies isolated from each other by branching blue waters. If I had to guess, I would say this is the Land of Rivers, the Kiri-nin mused. He directed the bubble west, in the direction of the Land of Wind, and asked Fū, "If you don't mind me asking, what's the extent of your abilities?"

"Hm?" The green-haired girl turned away from the idyllic scene below her, placing her gaze on Utakata and adopting a thoughtful expression. "Whaddya mean?"

"Well, how far can you sense someone?"

"Like a distance?" She shrugged. "I dunno. Far."

Utakata let out an exasperated sigh, the only sign of his annoyance. "Okay, well, can you feel where Suna is?"

"Mmm…" Orange eyes closed for a moment, then reopened. "No. There's a couple people down there"—she gestured to the earth below—"but definitely not a village's worth."

"And your ability to detect lies?"

"The closer I am to someone, the easier it is to focus on their chakra," Fū explained. "A lot of times, how people feel is reflected in their chakra. So if they're nervous or agitated or something, it'll show in their chakra."

"Impressive," the Kiri-nin admitted. He'd never heard of sensing that proficient, but from a theoretical standpoint, he supposed it made sense. Chakra was a combination of physical and mental energy, so if someone was mentally…compromised…that could result in a detectable manifestation within their chakra, assuming a sensor was skilled enough.

And right now, he had no reason to believe that Fū wasn't as proficient as she claimed. "Then…can you distinguish between different types of chakra?"

The Waterfall kunoichi cocked her head to the side. "How d'you mean?"

"Well…" Not for the first time, Utakata was stuck being unable to elaborate on what he wanted to know without delving even further into the complexities of the Bijū and Jinchūriki, a topic Fū was shockingly ignorant of despite being one. She really is a lot like Naruto. "What do you sense if you focus on me?"

"Hmm…" She closed her eyes again, and despite the fact that she couldn't see him, Utakata felt suddenly exposed. "You're nervous…no, more like…uncomfortable?"

"Maybe don't focus on how I feel," Utakata suggested quickly, trying to quell his discomfort. It was…awkward…being analyzed so astutely, like an insect under a microscope. "What about…" he paused, thinking of how to phrase his prompt, "the nature of my chakra?"

"The nature? Well, it's kinda cool. Soothing. Like being under a warm blanket on a cold night. And I can feel it all over you, like…on your skin. But…mm…" Her brow furrowed in confusion. "There's a different chakra, and it's…volatile. Sticky, and…I dunno how to describe it. Dangerous? It's kinda overwhelming, but it feels like it's contained by your chakra?" Orange eyes blinked open. "Does that make sense? I've never felt anything like it before."

"That second chakra you feel? That's the Rokubi." It was so strange to hear about Saiken from someone who wasn't afflicted by the hateful bias the Bijū normally inspired. "You've never felt something like that within yourself?"

Fū shook her head. "Should I have?"

"If you're really a—if the Nanabi is really sealed inside you," he corrected, "I can't imagine why you wouldn't." He scrutinized her, searching again for the physical marking that would plainly identify her as a Jinchūriki, and again came up short. It didn't help that he had no idea what the Nanabi looked like, and thus no idea what identifier to look for. Hesitantly, knowing that his question could blow up in his face for a variety of reasons, Utakata asked, "You're sure about the Nanabi?"

The Taki-nin scowled, all geniality suddenly gone. "It's what the Elders told me. What, you don't believe me-ssu?"

"It's not that," Utakata placated. This was what he'd been afraid of by digging for confirmation; now he had to do damage control. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean any offense. I've just never heard of someone like you. Or a village that does what yours did. It's just…an anomaly." He sighed, a sad smile playing around his lips. "I've discovered a lot of anomalies recently."

"What's that mean?"

"Stick me with and you'll find out."

Fū shrugged, all nonchalance. "Whatever. Not like I've got anywhere else to go."

"Do you think you'll be able to find the person in Suna who has chakra like me? Or…" he paused, thinking, "not exactly like me, but someone with two types of chakra? The dangerous one?"

"Probably, if you give me time."

"I can do that."

The rest of their journey was accompanied by the silence that had become their third companion, Fū speaking only to give directions as they drifted further into the Land of Wind and the location of the Hidden Sand Village became more apparent to her sensing abilities. Eventually, the village proper came into sight, a collection of brown buildings arranged like an eight-spoked wheel inside a sort of sandy caldera. Utakata directed their bubble down towards a taller building on the edge of the village, and when they were close enough to the roof, it popped, allowing the pair to land lightly. The brunet grabbed some tan garments hanging from a clothesline and threw some to Fū, wrapping himself in a cloak and drawing the hood up to further disguise his features. "Can you work from here?" he whispered.

Fū's eyes were already closed in concentration. "Yep, just need time."

"Got it." Sharp, golden eyes gazed at his surroundings, taking in the array of tans and browns that made up the Village Hidden in Sand. Everything was so…drab, he decided, bland colors in a town that had boring architecture and minimal people. There were a couple of mothers watching their children play in the street below, the kids juggling a ball between them.

A feeling of wistfulness bloomed in his breast as he observed them. Must be nice to be so happy.

"It's so nice that things are finally returning to normal."

"Oh, I know! Ever since that boy's been gone, the village has been so pleasant."

Utakata's ears perked at the gossip below him, something in the way the second mother spoke reminiscent of his own past. It wasn't like he had anything better to do until Fū found the Sand Jinchūriki anyway.

"I meant more with Kazekage-sama. We lost so much in the Konoha invasion—"

Utakata gasped. "What?"

"What?" Fū echoed.

Whatever part of the conversation he'd missed continued uninterrupted down below. "You're right. We've had to take the good with the bad. And Godaime-sama seems to be doing well so far."

"We need to go," Utakata announced.

"But I haven't located that chakra yet."

"Doesn't matter, there's a bigger problem," the Kiri-nin said. He threw off the tan cloak and pulled out his bubble blower, walking over to Fū and creating a sphere that encased them both. It lifted them into the air, and Utakata directed the bubble east towards the Land of Fire.

"What's going on? We spent all this time getting here, and now we're just leaving?"

"Something happened," he answered. "I don't know what, but it sounds like Konoha might have been attacked, which means we need to get back as soon as possible."

"This thing doesn't move very fast," Fū observed.

"It's convenient, not quick."

"Hmm…" The green-haired girl eyed the sky speculatively before her fingers began to form seals.

"What are you—?"

"Fūton: Reppūshō!"

The Drifting Bubble accelerated east as the Violent Wind Palm expelled air from the west. Utakata was thrown against the sphere's translucent surface by the sudden movement, grateful that his method of transportation was slightly more durable than his normal bubbles. "Uh—"

"Just tell me when to stop!" Fū yelled over the howling wind. Utakata decided it wasn't worth responding, and instead focused on keeping the bubble sturdy and whole.

They made it all the way back to the Land of Rivers before Fū had to take a break, but Utakata found himself impressed by the time they'd made. He looked down over the flowing waters below while Fū panted, using the serene blue to try and find peace while anxiety coursed through his veins. "How long until you can use that jutsu again?" Now that he knew they could make haste, it was hard to go back to their sedate method of travel when it seemed like Naruto and Rōshi could be in danger, the results of Suna's apparent invasion unknown.

Fū glared at him. "Give me a minute-ssu!"

"Sorry," Utakata offered, abashed. It wasn't the first time he'd spoken out of anxiety for his mission rather than thoughtfulness for his surroundings or travel companion, and it likely wouldn't be the last. Something about the other Jinchūriki - Yagura, Naruto - being in trouble seemed to override all his normal sensibilities. "I'm not ungrateful, I'm just nervous. Really," he continued as the green-haired girl's expression remained unmoved, "it's amazing what you did."

Fū let out a huff. "I'll start again as soon as I can. That took a lot out of me."

Utakata made a mental note to stay quiet during the remainder of their journey, unwilling to risk saying something else that could potentially offend the Taki-nin. The hours dragged on as Fū alternated between using the Violent Wind Palm and taking rests to recover her stamina. Day faded to night, and by the time dawn broke and the sun was fully risen the next day, Konoha's tall buildings were visible in the distance among the towering treetops. The bubble-user breathed a long sigh of relief at the sight, noting no obvious damage to the portions of the village he could see.

Fū's energy tapered out at that moment, and as the Drifting Bubble slowed down and she panted beside him, Utakata's golden eyes were drawn to a large swath of ravaged forest. Several miles of uprooted and broken trees littered the ground amid the out-of-place sand dunes covering everything. She regained enough breath to ask, "What happened here?"

"No idea," Utakata replied, "but it can't be good. This is what I was afraid of."

Fū hummed in thought but didn't say anything else. Utakata directed the sphere to the devastated landscape, letting it pop and landing on a sand dune. From the floor, the extent of the damage appeared even greater; the Kiri-nin felt tiny among the fallen trees and open carnage. This kind of damage…a Kage could easily pull this off. I'm sure Rōshi would've fought back if he and Naruto were in danger, but there's no lava…

"Hey, Utakata—"

"Hold on, Fū, I'm thinking."

"But someone else is here-ssu. A lot of someones."

Utakata whirled around to face her. "What?"

Several dozen Konoha-nin dropped from the surrounding trees, porcelain masks hiding their faces. One of them stepped forward and demanded in a flat baritone, "Surrender peaceably. The Hokage would like a word with you."

Utakata heaved a tired sigh and glanced at Fū. The green-haired girl was visibly tired, but still tense, orange eyes darting around with healthy distrust for the overwhelming number of ANBU. He waited until he caught her attention and then shook his head. Slowly, she relaxed from her defensive position, and when the Kiri-nin judged that she wasn't going to do something stupid, he raised his hands and told the Leaf shinobi, "We'll do as you say."

At least this way he could get some answers.

Chapter Text

"We are out of options." Mū's voice was coarse, like the gravel of the village he ruled, all hard edges and zero empathy. "Kirigakure has gotten its hands on the Rokubi, which means we've officially fallen behind. We cannot fall behind."

"So you like to say." His father's voice was neutral. It was the tone Ōnoki adopted when he was attempting diplomacy, and was the only suggestion of his resistance to the Nidaime Tsuchikage's intentions. It was a novel deviation from the norm. "You're sure there's no other options?"

Mū scoffed. "I taught you better than that. Do you know what can stand up to these Bijū?"

Ōnoki hesitated before saying, "Their true power is unknown—"

"Because the Shodai Hokage was a naïve fool, not because we were ready for them," the Tsuchikage asserted. Though his voice was low, it sounded like thunder to the young redhead. "I witnessed his folly firsthand. But he is dead, the Bijū are free, and the other villages have already leapt at the opportunity. If we do not capitalize on the Yonbi now, we will lose everything."

An oppressive silence filled the space left by the Tsuchikage's words. Rōshi backed away from the door he'd been eavesdropping at, an unknown tension building in his gut. He was starting to regret trying to drop by to surprise his father when Ōnoki finally spoke, a hint of resignation echoing in his timbre. "Very well. Your will shall be done, Mū-sama."

"You've made the wise choice, Ōnoki. As Tsuchikage, you will find that the right decisions can sometimes be quite difficult. But fret not. Once Rōshi becomes the Yonbi Jinchūriki, I will ensure that he is trained to his ultimate potential.

"He will be Iwagakure's strongest weapon."

Rōshi sat on the floor with his back against the hard stone wall of his jail cell, dark eyes closed in quiet contemplation.

At least, it would have been quiet if not for the unceasing clank clank clank of Han's armored footfalls against the stone floor. "Can yeh stop?" the redhead groused after another minute of continuous noise.

The loud pacing stopped. "You promised me freedom, Rōshi," the giant Jinchūriki accused, his deep voice underlain with barely concealed rage. Rōshi opened his eyes to show his fellow Iwa-nin that he was at least paying attention. "This"—he gestured with open arms to their surroundings—"is not freedom!"

"Aye, an' yeh think I planned fer this?" the lava-user shot back. "It ain't like I wanna be Konoha's pris'ner any more'n yeh."

"No? I didn't see you fighting to get away when Konoha's ANBU showed up!" Han snarled.

"Yeh mean after yeh beat th' shit outta me, they put us un'er genjutsu, an' then took our strength?" Rōshi bit out, sarcasm thick as syrup dripping off his tongue. "Aye, yeh really seemed ter have a lot o' fight in yeh, too, didn' yeh?"

Han unleashed an animalistic bellow and slammed his gloved fists against the iron bars of the jail cell; the metal reverberated with a long claaaang in response to the Iwa-nin's fit of rage. "LET US OUT!"

"Aye, that'll work," Rōshi noted dryly, dark eyes closing in a vain attempt to return to a state of peace. Han would eventually wear himself out, just like every other time they'd fought so far. If it wasn't for the fact that the Gobi Jinchūriki had already shown he was capable of spite for long periods of time, the redhead might have thought his fellow Rock shinobi had a short memory; that they'd gone through the same motions multiple times since being incarcerated with no change in their status quo was the height of insanity.

In the beginning, he had told Han to calm down and just be patient, but that had just resulted in more arguing. So he'd given up and allowed the giant to bellow into the void until he was tired.

After spending decades living as a hermit, a couple of weeks in an underground jail with two square meals a day wasn't enough to faze him.

Dark eyes snapped open again when the door to the dungeons emitted a low creak. It was too early for dinner; he'd memorized the guards' schedules early on, and they were punctual to a fault. His gaze drooped into lazy scrutiny as an ANBU operative approached his cell. A pair of cuffs was tossed onto the floor of his prison. "Put those on," ordered the Leaf shinobi.

Rōshi shrugged. "If yeh say so." He cuffed himself, and when the shackles were on, the ANBU opened the jail door and moved aside, a gesture for the redhead to exit. Rōshi followed the unspoken directive, allowing the Konoha-nin to place a hand on his shoulder and march him towards the entrance of the dungeons. Han growled as they walked past his cell, and Rōshi asked, "Yeh ain't takin' 'im?"

"No."

The redhead dug his heels in, forcing the Konoha-nin to stop as well. "I ain't goin' nowhere without 'im."

White porcelain turned to stare at him, betraying the only surprise the redhead was likely to evoke. Silence reigned between them for several minutes, the quiet finally broken when the dungeon door creaked open again to admit a second ANBU with another set of chakra-restraining handcuffs. Rōshi's dark eyes roved around the dungeon while Han grudgingly cuffed himself. Always watchin', eh?

When both Iwa-nin were free from their cells and accompanied by ANBU, they were led through a series of tunnels and then up multiple flights of stairs until they ended up before a set of ornate double doors. Though they weren't designed the same, Rōshi was familiar enough with the overall style to know what was behind them. He sighed, waiting with surprising patience as the doors were opened and they were brought inside.

The Hokage's office was surprisingly simple: a large wooden desk piled with stacks of paperwork sat before a series of square windows that framed the circular space. Though it was hard to tell from his vantage point, the windows seemed to give an open view of the Hidden Leaf Village sprawled below.

That view was partially obscured by three people. Seated at the desk was a woman with platinum blonde hair, her ample bosom only somewhat covered by a green jacket, elbows on the desk and fingers laced together under her nose. A second woman with short, dark hair and a dark kimono, a small pig clutched tightly in her arms, stood beside her. On the blonde's other side was a large man – though still small compared to Han – with spiky white hair, a red vest, and olive-colored shirt and pants, arms crossed over his broad chest.

"Rōshi-oji!"

The redhead looked to the right to find Naruto and a boy with hair the color of dried blood sitting on a couch. Actually, the Leaf Jinchūriki was standing, excitement visibly thrumming through his body, while his companion merely stared with teal eyes rimmed by black rings of too many sleepless nights. The Iwa-nin's own eyes narrowed. So th' brat found th' Ichibi…Utakata'll be pleased, he thought with dry humor, his mental voice carrying a sourness borne from his long history with the Hidden Sand. "What'd yeh do, brat?"

Naruto raised one hand to scratch the back of his head, an embarrassed grin on his face. "Heheh, well, I, uh…kinda told Tsunade about you and Utakata-nii? But I didn't have a choice!" he continued hurriedly, fearing some retribution by the redhead. "She's the Hokage now, and she's super scary!"

"Aye, I know all 'bout th' Sannin Tsunade. An' Jiraiya," he added, shifting his gaze to the white-haired man in the corner.

"So you're not mad?" The blond's voice was hopeful, his naïve optimism on full display.

Rōshi sighed, taking a seat in one of the two chairs placed before the Hokage's desk. Truthfully, ever since he and Utakata had started training Naruto, he'd expected some sort of confrontation with the Hidden Leaf. It was unrealistic to expect that a village as large and powerful as Konoha wouldn't eventually realize it had foreign shinobi on its soil, especially since said foreigners were spending copious amounts of time with its Jinchūriki.

Just because Iwa and Konoha shared a tense history didn't mean that the redhead thought the Hidden Leaf was stupid.

That he and Utakata had been allowed so much time with Naruto free from Konoha's hierarchy was a stroke of luck. "Shit happens," he finally grunted, offering neither absolution nor anger.

"Hmph. Well that's a change." Rōshi looked over his left shoulder to where Han had settled himself into the corner diagonally opposite Jiraiya. His brown eyes were narrowed in anger. "You've become introspective in your time here? How novel."

"Don' pretend yeh know ev'rythin' 'bout me," Rōshi shot back.

"Because you have so many layers," Han remarked snidely.

"Enough!" Tsunade barked. "I didn't have you brought up here to settle your own petty squabbles. I didn't ask for you at all," she continued in a dangerous tone, staring pointedly at the armored Iwa-nin. "Make it so I don't know you're there, and I won't physically remove you from my office." Han remained silent, dissatisfaction clear in his slumped posture; Rōshi guessed that his reluctant obedience was more a desire to stay out of the dungeons than any sense of being intimidated by the blonde.

The door to the office opened at that moment, and all eyes turned to look at the newcomers.

Utakata shuffled into the room out of the ring of ANBU surrounding him, golden eyes – or at least the one not hidden by his bangs – roving over the gathered figures. "Utakata-nii," Naruto whispered as the Kiri-nin took the seat to Rōshi's right and placed his cuffed hands in his lap, the perfect picture of politeness. "Oi, Tsunade!…-sama," he added tepidly at the older woman's glare, "why're you treating Rōshi-oji and Utataka-nii like this? They're not gonna do anything."

Focused on the blond Jinchūriki, Rōshi barely clocked a second person emerge from within the ANBU guard. This one was a girl with short, mint green hair, the forehead protector tied around her right bicep denoting her as a Hidden Waterfall kunoichi. She settled herself in the back-right corner of the office, where she shot an unreadable look at Naruto and the Suna-nin on the couch before scoping out the rest of the room.

Jiraiya cleared his throat, and the redhead returned his attention to the pair of Sannin before him. "Naruto, sit down."

"But Jiraiya—!"

"Naruto." Utakata shook his head when the blond's attention turned to him, the quiet utterance of his name enough to temper the boy's outcry. At the Mist shinobi's gesture, Naruto fell silent and sat back on the couch, blue eyes flickering nervously from his pair of teachers to the Sannin and then to the Suna-nin beside him.

Tsunade flicked her hand in a gesture of dismissal, and the ANBU who had escorted Utakata and the Taki-nin left, closing the door behind them. Only one remained behind, and despite the smaller group, the office still felt too cramped. "So," she began, "let's chat.

"I've been informed by Naruto that he's been receiving training from you two," she said, pointing with her index and middle fingers at Utakata and Rōshi, "for…how long again?"

By her tone, Rōshi got the distinct impression the question was rhetorical. Sadly, Naruto was not that astute. "Er…like six months?"

Tsunade's honey eyes flickered over to the blond before resettling on the pair of seated Jinchūriki. In a clipped tone, she continued, "Apparently the geopolitical landscape has changed quite a bit while I've been away, because an alliance between Iwa and Kiri would have never happened back in my day."

"Wouldn't even happen now," Jiraiya cut in.

"To be fair, uh…Hokage…" Utakata said, trying to be polite and clearly unsure what the appropriate way to do so was, "neither Rōshi nor myself are affiliated with our villages anymore—"

"As evidenced by the glowing biography Kiri provided on you," Tsunade agreed, rotating an open book on her desk so that the two renegades could read what was inside. Both leaned forward to get a better glimpse, finding a fairly simple rundown of the bubble-user's skills and prowess penned next to a headshot and a reward of fifty million ryō for his return to the Hidden Mist alive. "And you," she continued, slamming the book shut and leveling a hard gaze at Rōshi, "Yōton no Rōshi, the Tsuchikage's son. We're quite familiar with your reputation and exploits."

"Eh? Rōshi-oji, you're related to a Kage?"

Rōshi let out an annoyed sigh. "Aye, sadly."

"Like you haven't spent years reaping the benefits of that connection," Han interjected waspishly.

"Yeh think now's th' time ter do this? Again?"

Tsunade slammed her fist on the desk. "Everyone shut up!" She rubbed her temples to alleviate an apparent headache as the rest of them heeded her command. "The Tsuchikage's son, a Kiri-nin with a bounty bigger than most of my Jōnin, the Kazekage's son," she added, gesturing to the redhead beside Naruto, "and I can't even begin to imagine who the hell you two are," she finished, gaze flickering first to the green-haired girl and then to Han. "I also can't say I really give a damn right now. Since Naruto didn't seem all that forthcoming, I suspect that you two are the brains of this operation. So why don't you tell me why you're here in my village?"

"That's…complicated," Utakata tried.

"Then uncomplicate it," growled the blonde. "Because from my vantage point, we're harboring fugitives from Iwa, Kiri, Suna, and apparently Taki, two of whom we're nominally allied with, one which Jiraiya informs me has been a black hole for information, and one of which we've been in prolonged conflict with since my grandfather's era, none of which is conducive to establishing diplomacy!" she bit out. "Thanks, Jiraiya, for bringing me back, this is much better than the life I was leading."

"We'll tell yeh anythin' yeh want ter know."

"Rōshi!" Utakata sounded aghast.

"But th' brat's gotta go."

"Rōshi-oii—!"

"Yeh don' need ter hear this, Naruto," Rōshi told him, and his tone lacked some of the edge he'd addressed Tsunade with. "We'll find yeh after."

"Naruto, go," Tsunade seconded brusquely.

The boy stood up, his features folded downward unhappily. "Fine. Comin' Gaara?" he asked.

"No," intoned the Suna-nin. "I will remain here." A fleeting expression of naked betrayal crossed the blond's features, but the dark-haired woman beside Tsunade approached and led him away at a glance from the Hokage.

When the door closed behind them, Tsunade returned her attention to the Iwa-nin and asked, "Why did you want him to leave?"

Rōshi's deep breath was filled with the resignation of decades of boredom. "D'yeh know what it's like ter be a Jinchūriki?" Beside him, Utakata jerked, his head swiveling to look behind him; the redhead ignored the movement, too used to the teenager's strange twitches to pay it any heed. "Life sucks. Yer village uses yeh as a weapon, somethin' ter win wars, an' nothin' more. An' th' people see yeh as a monster, somethin' inhuman. An' yeh ain't given a choice ter be one, not like bein' a Kage; it's somethin' forced on yeh." Behind him, Han let out a snort of contempt.

"But Naruto didn' grow up like th' rest o' us," he continued. "Fer some reason, yer Hokage didn' treat 'im like that. He didn' know what he was, an' he still chose ter fight fer th' village."

"How is any of that relevant?"

"He don' need ter know th' kinda lives we've led," Rōshi said. "Th' Jinchūriki've all been sad an' mis'rable an' tragic, an' most o' us've come ter accept th' hardships o' bein' cursed."

Tsunade's honey eyes narrowed. "You're all Jinchūriki?" At Rōshi's nod, she continued, "Do you have any idea what the odds of more than one Jinchūriki coming together are? And you're telling me there are six Jinchūriki in Kono—I'm sorry, AM I BORING YOU?"

Rōshi followed her gaze to find Utakata squirming beside him. The brunet's eyes kept flickering behind him, and the Iwa-nin decided to see what kept drawing the teenager's attention. In her corner, the green-haired Taki-nin's expression – which had started as neutral at best – could only be described as thunderous, lips turned down in a deep scowl and orange eyes glaring holes through the blonde Sannin.

"If we could refrain from saying…Jinchūriki," Utakata whispered, apparently trying to make it so only Tsunade and Rōshi could hear, "that would be appreciated. Fū doesn't really react well to—"

"You are Jinchūriki," Tsunade snapped, "and I'm not particularly incentivized to grant you favors right now." In a calmer, if brusque, tone, she added, "I don't mean to downplay your individual trauma, but I'm still waiting to hear what exactly any of this has to do with our current situation."

Rōshi fixed Utakata with a pointed stare. When the brunet finally felt the force of the Iwa-nin's gaze, he started slightly and uttered a surprised, "Oh, right." Turning to Tsunade, he asked, "What do you know about the current Mizukage?"

"Well, seeing as how I've been Hokage for all of five minutes—"

"Three days," Jiraiya interjected.

"—very little. It hasn't exactly been at the top of my list," came the sarcastic response. "If you hadn't noticed, we're recovering from an attack."

"His name is Yagura," explained the bubble-user. "He's the Jin—" he coughed, then continued, "—the Sanbi is sealed within him. And he's being manipulated by Akatsuki."

Jiraiya let out a low whistle. "You buried the lede there, kid."

"Jiraiya, explain," Tsunade demanded.

"Akatsuki's a mercenary group who've been known to take some pretty high-end missions," the white-haired man elaborated. "Big risk, but big reward. Rumor has it they're credited with taking down a small country in the span of a night. To give you an idea of how bad they are, Orochimaru was once a member."

Tsunade rolled her eyes. "Great."

"And Uchiha Itachi is a current member."

The Sannin threw her hands up. "Even better."

"They're also…looking for the Bijū," Utakata offered carefully, seemingly aware that they seemed to be sitting on a powder keg.

"I can confirm that," Jiraiya added. "My network told me the same thing. I thought it was a weird rumor, but I guess not."

"I trust your sources, Jiraiya," Tsunade said. She turned to Utakata. "I don't trust you. How do you know all this?"

Utakata took a deep breath and admitted, "I overheard Akatsuki talking about it, back in Kiri. They're using Kiri's resources to figure out where the Bijū are. If you're trying to document Akatsuki's roster, Hoshigaki Kisame is also involved."

"This is all very helpful, but still beside the point. Why. Are. You. Here."

"I came to Konoha to find the Kyūbi Jinchūriki." Utakata winced as he realized what he'd said and murmured an apology to Fū before continuing, "Rōshi and I…ran into each other along the way. When we came here, we found Naruto and started training him."

"Why did you start training him?" Tsunade asked. "Even considering your…whatever your goal is, that's beyond unorthodox. I also can't imagine an Iwa-nin training someone who looks as much like the Yondaime as Naruto does."

"Aye, yeh don' know th' half o' it."

"If you didn't know," Utakata interjected hastily, apparently unwilling to lead the Hokage down the path of the trio's rough introduction, and probably for good reason, "each Bijū has his own special ability. Yōton, Shabondama…"

Rōshi gestured behind him to Han with his cuffed hands. "He's got Futton."

"Really?" Utakata sounded genuinely surprised by the announcement – why, Rōshi couldn't guess – then shook his head. "Anyway, we discovered that the Kyūbi's ability is…an amalgamation, I suppose…of the other Bijū's."

Tsunade arched an eyebrow. "Meaning?"

"Naruto can use all of our abilities."

A grunt-like noise sounded out from the couch. "Ah."

Utakata opened his mouth as if to say something in response to the Suna-nin's interjection, but then closed it again, at a loss. Rōshi decided to pick up the thread. "We got 'im a skill base 'til we had ter find more o' us."

"And what was the purpose of finding more of you?" Tsunade demanded. "You seem to keep avoiding that subject."

"He wants ter save th' Mizukage," Rōshi replied, thumbing at Utakata.

"Rōshi!"

"Yeh think yer getting' out o' here without tellin' 'em th' full story?" The redhead scoffed. "Don' be daft." He turned back to Tsunade. "Th' way he tol' me, th' Jinchūriki'll have enough power ter fight Akatsuki an' rescue 'im."

Tsunade again arched an eyebrow at the Iwa-nin, her face the epitome of skepticism. "And you're willing to go along with this…plan? You? Excuse me my suspicions. If your intention is to drag Konoha into this…insanity, I'm going to have to disappoint you."

"She's not the only one," Han growled. His armor clinked with his annoyance. "Rōshi, I did not come with you to an enemy village to be caught in more politics. If I'd known your plan involved being used to begin another war—"

"It ain't my plan, yeh moron," Rōshi shot back, "I tol' yeh that when we left Iwa! An' I ain't int'rested in a war. Th' only one who's got a stake in Kiri's th' kid. I'm here ter make sure you an' I don' git killed by Akatsuki."

Han grunted, dissatisfied with the older Jinchūriki's explanation. "It's never the whole story with you, Rōshi. You made false promises—"

Tsunade again slammed her fists against the desk. "This is why I didn't invite you!" she barked. "Shut up and settle things on your own time. So long as you're in my village, in my office, you'll follow my rules, and the only thing I care about right now is figuring out how much of a threat you are to Konoha."

"Hokage-sama, if I may." Tsunade nodded at the lone ANBU agent who had stayed behind, and he continued in a monotone, "Sandaime-sama was aware of Rōshi and Utakata's presence since they first contacted Naruto." Utakata turned to Rōshi, visible golden eye wide with surprise. The redhead shrugged in return, unperturbed by the revelation; every village – every Kage, really – had its own tricks the others were not privy to, and the Hidden Leaf spying on them didn't surprise him nearly as much as it did the teenager. It even explained how they'd been caught so quickly upon returning to their campsite. "He could not form a sensible theory for why Iwagakure and Kirigakure would ally together with no apparent intention of harming or kidnapping Konohagakure's Jinchūriki, and so he tasked me with overseeing their activities."

"And did their intentions become any clearer during your observations?"

"Their underlying intent was indeterminable, but if they intended harm to the Kyūbi Jinchūriki or Konohagakure through his absence, they had plenty of opportunity which was not capitalized upon. While some of their training methodologies might be construed as…harsh, no damage meant to permanently cripple Konohagakure or her shinobi was done."

Jiraiya let out a short chuckle. "Well, that's a ringing endorsement if I've ever heard one. And if Sensei let Rōshi of all people stay here…well, doesn't seem like they have anything nefarious planned, does it, Tsunade-hime?"

"It lends credence to their story," Tsunade allowed. "But that only explains these two," she continued, gesturing to the two sitting Jinchūriki. "It explains nothing about the other three."

"Contrary to what Rōshi said, my goal was not just to rescue Yagura," Utakata explained hurriedly, sounding a little desperate. "Akatsuki's mission is to kidnap the Bijū. I figured the people who that affected deserved to know they're in danger."

"Your altruism is noted," Tsunade observed dryly.

Utakata hesitated, then admitted, "In the spirit of honesty, it wasn't done out of altruism. At least not originally. I needed allies to rescue Yagura, and it just so happened that my best chance was with those who were in the same danger he and I were in. Since Akatsuki seems to be using Kiri as a base of operations, it made sense that so long as more Bijū were free, Yagura would be…safe, I suppose. At the very least, I figured they wouldn't take the Sanbi from him while they could still use him to control the village."

Tsunade rubbed her temples with both hands, eyes closed. "This just screams international incident," she muttered.

"If it's any consolation," the brunet offered in a conciliatory tone, "none of us have any real loyalty to our villages. Or…former villages, if you'd prefer. The only one who does seem to care is Naruto."

"As reassuring as that sounds, you'll excuse me if I still find it a little hard to trust the words of a nukenin Jinchūriki and the notorious Yōton no Rōshi, even considering my ANBU's reporting."

Jiraiya cleared his throat. "Tsunade, I know this defines unconventional, but before you make a hasty decision, maybe we should take a moment to think this through."

The Slug Sannin arched an eyebrow at her former teammate. "You wanted me in this position, Jiraiya, and now you're going to try to make decisions for me?"

"Nothing like that. But Naruto has a rapport with Utakata and Rōshi, and since we know he's not an official shinobi, he must've learned everything from them. I can't say I know anything about the Kyūbi's powers since Kushina never used them, but if what they're saying is true, they seem like the best people to teach the kid his powers. And if what I know of Akatsuki is true, which I'll grant you is limited right now, he'll need every advantage he can get.

"And if you're worried about them being a bad influence or causing trouble, well, I'll vouch for Gaara."

The Suna-nin turned to stare at the Sannin. "You will?"

"I'll vouch for Fū," Utakata added, taking advantage of the opportunity.

"Aye, an' I've got Han," Rōshi said. "He's mad now, but he'll git over it."

The armored Jinchūriki grunted. "You have a high opinion of yourself."

"None of you have any authority here," Tsunade barked, "so your words aren't nearly as reassuring as you think." Then she sighed, the fierce demeanor she'd retained throughout their conversation tapering off into resignation. "Jiraiya, I can tell you have an idea. Just spill it."

"You should let them stay," he suggested. "With provisions, of course. They'll be able to train Naruto to be ready for the looming threat, and we may be able to learn more about the other villages in the interim."

"You're not supposed to say the quiet part out loud, Jiraiya," Tsunade groused.

The Toad Sannin shrugged, grinning slightly. "I hate playing the politician, you know that. Besides, they put all their cards on the table, it's only fair we do the same."

"It's our table, idiot! We make the rules!" She returned to rubbing her temples.

"I don't know how much information we could offer you on our villages," Utakata interjected. "Jin—people like us aren't always privy to daily operations, but if it helps, I can give you some leverage." He reached to the side, using his cuffed hands to grab a small scroll attached there and placing it on the desk. The lone ANBU agent immediately interceded, grabbing the scroll and holding it close to his body, his back to the Hokage to protect her from any foul play. "Sorry, I should've considered how that would look. If you unseal the contents…"

Tsunade glanced at the weapon the ANBU pulled from the scroll, then returned her attention to Utakata. "What am I looking at?"

"That's Nuibari, one of Kiri's legendary seven swords. You can consider it a token of gratitude."

"Or a bribe," Tsunade replied dryly. "Regardless, Jiraiya has a point." She sighed again, and after several moments of quiet contemplation, announced, "Fine. If you're going to stay in Konoha, you'll do it under the following conditions.

"One," she began, ticking the point on her fingers, "you'll each subject yourselves to a complete medical exam, including an inspection and evaluation of your seal by Jiraiya. Two, you'll continue to train Naruto to use his…Kyūbi abilities, as it were. Under supervision, of course. Jiraiya will oversee that as well."

"I've got things to do, hime!"

"Tough shit. You wanted to keep this mess going, you can see how it plays out. Your perverted tendencies can wait." Jiraiya grumbled his displeasure, but said nothing else to indicate he would disobey her directive. Tsunade continued, "Three, you'll stay away from the main portions of the village. I would prefer if only the people in this room know of our arrangement. From what I gather, many in Konoha don't know Naruto's secret; the less that know yours, the better. You'll stay in the Senju compound, there's plenty of room there for all of you.

"Any questions? No? Great. Now get out of my sight."

Utakata and Rōshi stood from their seats, the brunet offering a respectful incline of his head to Tsunade. At a gesture from the ANBU, Gaara, Fū, and Han all followed the pair out, expressions varying degrees of apathy, anger, and disdain.

Then the two Sannin were all that remained in the office. Tsunade sighed. "You're going to be the death of me, Jiraiya."

"Heh. I was about to say the same thing. I've gotta train the kid, check six different seals, and make sure they don't blow up the village. You sure know how to pile it on, hime."

"You're welcome to take over running the village instead. I would be more than happy to return to my life."

"That life was beneath you and you know it," Jiraiya informed her, tone serious. He rapped the desk with his knuckles twice in a gesture of goodbye, and in a cheerier voice said, "You did good today, hime. We'll figure this whole thing out, don't worry about it."

"Get outta here and do your damn job, perv."

Jiraiya threw back his head and laughed as he walked out the door and closed it behind him.

"Han—"

The door slammed in his face. Rōshi hit it repeatedly with his open palm. "Yer stuck here, same as me!" he called. "Yeh may as well talk ter me!"

"Find your own prison to sleep in!" shouted the giant.

Rōshi growled in frustration before turning and walking away, storming down the hallway. Utakata met him at the end, where it opened into a spacious, old-fashioned atrium. "If it's any consolation, Fū won't talk to me either," he offered. "She took the room across from…Han, is it?"

"Aye. An' why d'yeh think that'd make me feel better?"

Utakata shrugged, though he still managed to look inordinately pleased. "Commiseration."

"If yeh knew what it took ter git 'im here, yeh wouldn' be so glib."

"We can compare stories if you'd like. It wasn't like I had a walk in the park either."

"Boo hoo. This's yer mission, yeh should be happy we got this far."

"All things considered, this has gone surprisingly well," Utakata admitted. "Six of the nine Jinchūriki under one roof? You've got to admit that this is unprecedented."

"Aye, that's fer sure. Time'll tell if that's good or not. I'm bettin' not."

Utakata rolled his eyes. "You're so skeptical. Look at all that we've accomplished so far! How can you still be so negative?"

"Years of experience, kid." Jiraiya walked into the atrium and nodded to the pair, his dark eyes settling on Rōshi. He jerked his head to the side. "Why don't we have a little chat, hm?"

The redhead shrugged. "Aye, if yeh say so."

He left the Kiri-nin behind to follow the Sannin to another room within the compound. This one had bookshelves lining the walls, filled to the brim with different tomes; a thick layer of dust coated both the floor and shelves. With the exception of a large wooden table placed at its center, the room lacked other furnishings. It might have been an office when it was actually used, Rōshi mused, but now it seemed…barren, as void of life as the rest of the Senju complex.

Although now that it was inhabited by five – six whenever Naruto showed up – Jinchūriki, perhaps that feeling would go away.

Jiraiya slapped his palm against the surface of the table – which had been cleared of dust – a grin playing about his lips. "Hop on up." Rōshi shot him an unamused look, to which the Sannin's grin only grew, but complied with the request regardless. They stared at each other for a moment before the white-haired man raised an eyebrow and prompted, "This is the part where you show me your seal."

"Oh, aye, is that what we're doin' here?"

"You heard Tsunade," Jiraiya said while the Iwa-nin shucked his leather armor and long-sleeved magenta shirt, "medical and seal exams. And trust me, you do not want to piss her off."

"Jiraiya would know." Both men looked over to find the blonde Hokage entering the room. "He's spent decades doing exactly that."

"You finished for the day already, hime?"

"Damn senile blowhards just want to blather on about how to best utilize resources, and rebuilding our strength, and blah blah blah." She rubbed her temples. "Honestly, how the hell I let you talk me into this… Anyway, I needed a break. This seemed like a good place to start." She laced her fingers together and then stretched out her arms so that her knuckles cracked. "Let's see what you're working with…"

A green aura enveloped her hands before she swept them slowly over the redhead's supine form. Silence enveloped them as the medic's scan progressed, broken only by a thoughtful 'hm' when she reached his chest. "This is a mess," Tsunade announced with clinical detachment. "What did you do, get into a fight and then just ignore your injuries?"

"Aye, yer a genius, ain't yeh?"

"One in a generation," she retorted.

As the Sannin continued her scan, Rōshi finally offered, "Han hits hard."

"You don't say."

"Hard to tell you two would ever come to blows with how chummy you were back in our meeting earlier," Jiraiya said with false cheer.

The redhead turned his head to meet the Toad Sannin's dark eyes. "He's got reasons ter be pissed." His gaze returned to the ceiling. "We all do."

"You're taking the blame?" Jiraiya asked. "Certainly a step up from your father."

"I ain't nothin' like 'im!" snarled the lava-user, rising from his position.

Tsunade placed a hand on his chest and shoved him back against the tabletop. "Stay still!" she barked. "We're not done yet. And Jiraiya, if you could not antagonize Rōshi, I'd appreciate it. I'm sure you remember what he's capable of."

"…Fair point, hime. I'll play nice."

All was quiet among the three until Tsunade finally stated, "Well, all things considered, you're in pretty good shape. No disease, good weight for your height and age; aside from these recent injuries, there's nothing I wouldn't expect from examining Jiraiya."

"Thanks hime, really appreciate that."

"So yer done then?"

Tsunade's hand – positioned over the redhead's ribcage – pushed down, and the sharp crack of Rōshi's ribs breaking was drowned out by the old hermit's shocked shout of pain. "Sorry about that," Tsunade said without a shred of remorse. "It goes against my personal ethos to allow your injuries to go unhealed properly. Hurts less if you don't know it's coming."

"Yeh don' say," Rōshi gasped. He felt relief flow through his chest as her hands once more glowed with green chakra, healing his broken ribcage and soothing weeks-long discomfort. She moved on to the hand Han had crushed, realigning the carpals and phalanges into their correct places; the redhead grimaced with each movement, though he managed to stay quiet this time.

"So," Tsunade began, "are you going to tell me why you and Han were fighting? It's been awhile, but last I recall, you were more than capable of handling yourself."

"Han's got a temper, an' he's pissed at me somethin' fierce."

"I noticed."

"If yeh'd lived un'er Ōnoki's thumb, yeh'd be pissed, too." Tsunade grunted, but when she didn't press him for more information and instead moved on to his shoulder, he arched an eyebrow and asked, "Yer not goin' ter ask me anythin' else?"

"He blames you for his problems, it's not exactly an original story. Is there anything else I should know that you haven't already told me?"

"I don' know what yer fishin' fer."

"Han didn't injure your hearing, so I know you heard me earlier, but I'll say it again for you: I only care about your intentions and how they affect Konoha," Tsunade informed him. "And while it's not unheard of to accept those seeking asylum, it's fairly atypical for the seeker to be a former enemy, especially one of your…lineage." She withdrew her hands and stepped away, prompting Rōshi to sit up and take a deep breath. "Given our history"—Rōshi wasn't sure whether she was referring to their personal history or their villages', not that it particularly mattered—"I think it says enough about your situation that you'd come here and willingly stay without causing trouble."

"Yer kinder than th' Tsuchikage, that's fer sure."

The Slug Sannin shrugged before turning and walking away. "Do no harm. Your attention to Naruto is reward enough."

"I know it ain't my place," Rōshi offered, "but yeh'd do well ter treat th' kid good. Or he'll end up like th' rest o' us."

"Never took you as someone to give advice for the betterment of a Konoha-nin, Rōshi."

"Th' kid reminds me o' someone, that's all," grumbled the redhead.

"Yeah," Tsunade admitted, "me, too. Why else do you think you're here?" She waved a hand through the air in farewell. "Anyway, he's all yours, Jiraiya."

"Gotcha, hime." Jiraiya cracked his knuckles. "Now, where were we?"

When Jiraiya finished analyzing his seal and proclaimed him good to go, Rōshi found himself wandering outside into the Senju compound's courtyard. Fall had started to arrive while he'd been imprisoned, and the dark of night had begun to settle over Konoha, painting the area in quiet pinks, purples, and blues. The redhead looked up, finding a half-moon fighting against the sunset to bathe the world in its serene light. What a day, he mused. Then his dark eyes caught sight of blood-red hair, and he released a long-suffering sigh. An' it's gonna git longer…

He leaped to the roof, maintaining a healthy distance from the young Suna-nin who was perched there with his gaze fixated on the moon. "Yer…Gaara, aye?"

A turn of the head found emotionless teal eyes staring at the older redhead. He let out a low noise of affirmation. "You are…someone who helped Naruto."

Rōshi nodded, every movement cautious. "Aye, I s'ppose yeh could say that." Gaara seemed to accept this confirmation and returned his gaze to the lunar body above them. "Why're yeh out here?"

"…It is…comforting."

The Suna-nin's tone was flat, as dry as the desert that surrounded the village he hailed from. It chilled the Rock shinobi in a way he hadn't felt in well over a decade. "I know what yeh find comfort in," he replied, the slightest edge in his voice. "Th' thing inside yeh, th' Ichibi…it don' make yeh a stargazer."

Gaara's eyes turned towards him again. "You know Mother?"

"Mother? Yeh think that…thing's yer mother?"

"Mother has always been with me," Gaara intoned, and for such a sensitive topic, Rōshi was once more struck by the fact that the younger redhead seemed to hold no emotional attachment one way or the other for their discussion. "She has helped me become strong—"

"Yer strength's what I'm worried 'bout. An' if yeh can control it."

He could see the Sand shinobi lift one arm and flex his hand experimentally, gaze fixated on the play of muscles and tendons the action caused. "Control…hmm… Are you strong?"

"Aye."

"Stronger than me if I…lose control?"

"I did it afore, so aye, I can do it again. But can an' want're two diff'rent things."

Gaara nodded slowly, though Rōshi couldn't say if the gesture was done as an expression of understanding or just acknowledgment that he'd responded. "Naruto says strength comes from others. Before him, I believed strength came from myself. But he…is stronger than I." From anyone else, the admission would've sounded bitter; from the Suna-nin, it was just matter-of-fact, and that in of itself surprised the Iwa-nin. "I do not have control, nor do I have strength. I am…powerless."

Rōshi barked in laughter. "Yer anythin' but. If yeh knew what I knew—"

"And what do you know?"

The Iwa-nin blinked in surprise; for the first time in their conversation, Gaara actually sounded interested. But while the younger Jinchūriki so far seemed saner than his predecessor (which wasn't saying much), the dark rings around his eyes were a firm reminder that he was still the jailor of the One-Tail.

Rōshi's experience with that particular threat made him leery about the younger redhead regardless of how he seemed at first blush. "Nothin' yeh need ter know now."

"Hm." Gaara's gaze returned to the moon, interest apparently lost.

Rōshi arched an eyebrow and decided it was safe enough to take several steps closer before sitting down, legs dangling over the ledge and 20 feet of distance between them. "D'yeh know why yer here?"

Another stretch of silence. Rōshi was beginning to find them just as unnerving as the blatant psychopathy the boy's predecessor had displayed. In the Suna-nin's presence, his memory of the previous Ichibi Jinchūriki seemed to be permanently fixed at the forefront of his mind, and the quiet felt too much like the calm before the storm.

Before Gaara gave in to the impulse of the One-Tail and killed them all.

"There is a plan. To save the…Jinchūriki." The word rolled off Gaara's tongue slowly, as if he wasn't used to it. He turned again to face the older redhead. "You seem displeased about it."

"Yeh ever see many Jinchūriki in one place? It ain't a party, that's fer sure."

"Naruto believes that Jinchūriki can…understand one another." Gaara's forehead crinkled in thought. "I…am not sure I believe him."

"Aye, me either. But here we are, eh?"

Gaara blinked, the intensity of his gaze suddenly broken. "I wish to believe him," he admitted tonelessly. "Things would be…better, I think. But others are…strange. They have hated me, and I do not care about them."

His words were familiar, something Rōshi himself would say – had said, probably – in defense of his reclusive lifestyle, and yet he sounded more…open, perhaps, to Naruto's idealistic naivety, unlike either his predecessor or the Iwa-nin. He wondered if it was the blond's influence already at work, or if he was just prematurely judging and comparing the Suna-nin to his predecessor based on his own history with the One-Tail. Perhaps a little of both. "Aye, I don' git it either. But yer okay with it all?"

"I have nothing else."

Rōshi huffed, an amused smirk dancing over his lips. Aye, join th' club. "Yeh ain't a fool, I'll give yeh that." He rose to his feet and dusted off his pants. "Yeh'll never be normal, so don' even try. But yeh can learn ter be better than yeh are."

Teal eyes bore holes into Rōshi; it was as if the older redhead was dangling bait in front of a ravenous pike. "How?"

"Find somethin' ter center yerself."

"Meaning?"

"Yeh need somethin' that yeh can use ter split yerself from th' Ichibi. Somethin' nothin' an' no one can take from yeh." He reached within his shirt and withdrew a small scroll hidden in a pocket by his heart. With only a couple of inches unrolled and a quick application of chakra, several stones fell into his palm.

It had been months since he'd sought the warm comfort of his stone collection, with its mixture of cool edges and smooth surfaces. Most of the gems he'd crafted himself over the decades, years of finding the right ores or soil types and utilizing the right amount of pressure, heat, and time, each one a testament of his prowess. They each had their own unique characteristics – historical, medicinal, spiritual – and while Rōshi couldn't say he believed everything about them, creating and learning about each had helped him survive his seclusion.

The Iwa-nin held them up one at a time, letting the moonlight glint through them so Gaara could see the different colors of his collection. "Amethyst…em'rald…garnet…"

"That one," Gaara interjected suddenly. "The color is familiar…"

The Iwa-nin squinted at it. "Aye, looks kinda like yer hair."

"Hmm…" The Sand shinobi seemed transfixed by the color, so Rōshi lobbed it to him. A tiny tendril of sand whipped out from the gourd on the boy's back and caught the gemstone in midair. Gaara held out his hand, and the red crystal fell into it, drawing the gaze of the teal-eyed boy like a moth to a flame.

"Keep it," Rōshi told him. "I think yeh need it more'n me."

"That is…kind." He looked up, fixing Rōshi with a flat stare. "Naruto said you were…his friend. That you would…help me, as you helped him." Teal eyes flickered down to the garnet in his hand, admiring its glow.

Rōshi snorted. "Th' kid gits under yer skin, that's fer sure. If nothin' else, he ain't no liar; too stupid fer that. Yeh can trust what he says, even if it don' always make sense."

Gaara grunted and turned back to the moon. "So it seems."

Though it wasn't the first time the Suna-nin's heavy gaze was off him, this time the conversation felt over. It was more than Rōshi could say he expected. Gaara seemed…introspective; detached, perhaps, but as a (former) recluse, the lava-user could hardly fault him that. At the very least, he didn't appear to be the same murderous psychopath that his predecessor had.

Although there was always a chance he was wrong.

"Yeh should remember what I said," Rōshi advised in parting. "Find somethin' ter center yerself." He played with a perfectly round pink opal, its surface opaque but lovingly polished. Out of his entire collection, the opal was his favorite piece. He'd created it not long after his niece had first made contact with him, all youthful excitement and naivety, the first person to make him feel like he was more than just the Jinchūriki the Hidden Rock had made him.

Gaara needed something similar, though what – or who – it was, Rōshi didn't know.

Although…if he could somehow negotiate a deal to keep six Jinchūriki – five of whom were foreign entities, nominally the opposition – safe in a village considered by history to be his mortal enemy, anything seemed possible.

He collapsed onto the futon in the room he'd picked, marveling at the feel of soft bedding for the first time in too many years. Aye, I could git used ter this.

Chapter Text

"You will attend the Chūnin Exams being held in Konoha next week."

Gaara stared at his father, expression implacable. Beside him, but still several feet away, his older sister Temari and older brother Kankurō exchanged brief glances. "For what purpose?" Temari asked. When the Kazekage's eyes – black, analytical, piercing – shifted to her, she added with exaggerated politeness, "Kazekage-sama."

The leader of the Hidden Sand Village let out a curt 'hm'. "We have fallen out of favor with the daimyō and are suffering for it. Where Sunagakure was once a thriving, representative metropolis of the Five Great Shinobi Nations, we are now in decline. An opportunity has presented itself for us to reestablish our legacy, and it begins with infiltrating the Chūnin Exams."

"What do you wish us to do?" Kankurō asked. His father's gaze swiveled to him, and he swallowed and added, "Kazekage-sama."

"You only need to pass. Do you think you can manage that?" he posed, a bite of condescension in his voice.

Gaara became the sole target of his father's stare as his siblings murmured their assent. Teal eyes met black, no shred of emotion reflected in either pair. After several moments of unyielding silence, the Kazekage stated coolly, "You will be required to obey this directive, Gaara. I will not ask again."

"…I will go." Suna's leader stared at him, but Gaara did not yield like his siblings, refusing to tack on the man's title. He'd long ago lost the capacity to fear his father – to feel anything, really – in the explosion that had taken Yashamaru's life. Every successive assassination attempt had only further dulled those feelings.

Eventually, the older man gave up on trying to silently pressure his youngest's subservience, offering a thin-lipped smile to his children. It didn't reach his eyes. "With this mission, you will finally prove your worth to Sunagakure." Dark eyes flicked over to the redhead. "Especially you, Gaara. Your purpose will finally be fulfilled."

For once in his life, Gaara spent most of the night staring at something other than the moon above him. Instead, his gaze remained on the small gemstone Rōshi had given him – a garnet, the Iwa-nin had called it – allowing the moonlight to glimmer along its scarlet surface, feeling its sharp edges with hands unused to the sensation of touch.

Rōshi had said the color was like his hair, but the Suna-nin was reminded more of blood, freshly spilt, seeping through the porous makeup of his sand and saturating the silica in his gourd; of the red rivulets that had run down his own chest from where Uchiha Sasuke had injured him, hurting him in a way no one else ever had.

Vaguely, the Suna-nin became aware of the lightening sky around him as night changed to dawn. When he was young, Yashamaru would sometimes join him on the roof of their home and comment on the beauty of the sunrise over the Hidden Sand Village. He hadn't understood at the time, and no one else had been able to teach him after his uncle's failed assassination-cum-suicide, so over the years, each new sunrise had just become the announcement of another day in which he would try to prove his existence.

Now he wondered if he'd been wrong to dismiss his uncle's words; as wrong as his views on how to be strong.

"Fū! Just wait, please!"

Gaara looked down to spy a dark-haired figure dressed in light blue catch up to a slight person with mint green hair who stood in the middle of the courtyard. When they were next to each other, they began conversing too quietly for the redhead to hear. Fū eventually shouted, "They've already judged us-ssu!"

Her head swiveled suddenly to meet Gaara's teal eyes, and he couldn't decipher the full tumult of emotions in her gaze, though anger was clear; Naruto's face had looked similar whenever he'd started arguing against Gaara's worldview on their mission, and the redhead had eventually connected the emotion to the facial expression.

The figure beside Fū noticed that she was no longer paying attention, and a second gaze looked up to find Gaara staring back. With her companion's attention gone, the green-haired girl dashed away, fleeing for refuge in a separate part of the compound. By the time the blue-clad person noticed, Fū was long gone.

Instead of giving chase, the dark-haired figure jumped up to the roof, mimicking the same motions Rōshi had taken the night before. Gaara turned to face his new companion, though he remained silent, allowing the male brunet to make the first move. A single golden eye scrutinized the redhead from head to toe, momentarily pausing on the hitae-ate wrapped around the belt holding his gourd on his back. "You're…Gaara, right? The Ichibi Jin—container."

"Hn."

"Sorry, I don't really know anything about you aside from your name and your…status."

"Status?"

"You know, being a…Jinchūriki," he whispered. Gaara stared silently at him, and the brunet elaborated, "Fū doesn't react well to hearing…what we are, so I'm trying to stop saying it. That term, Jinchūriki…it's not wrong necessarily, but it could be construed as…offensive. We've been hurt enough by others that engaging in self-harm isn't exactly constructive."

"…Self-harm?"

"You know, hurting ourselves? Just because others have poor opinions of us doesn't mean that we should sustain their beliefs."

Gaara continued to stare at the other male, expression blank. "You are very different from Rōshi," he decided.

The brunet grinned a little. "Is that a bad thing? I think that's better than the alternative. I'm Utakata, by the way."

"You are Naruto's other…friend."

"Is that what he told you?"

Gaara thought the older boy looked…happy? "Yes."

"That's good." He fell silent, seemingly unsure of what to say next. Gaara turned away from him and looked out over the ground below, absently scanning the area for Fū. He was almost…curious…how she had known where he was when he'd done nothing to give himself away; the villagers of the Hidden Sand had always been more interested in staying away from him than seeking him out, and to find someone who searched for him was…unusual.

Naruto had been the first in quite a long time.

"So I guess you and Naruto are friends, too, huh?"

Gaara turned back to the brunet, blinked once, and then turned away again. "No."

"No?" That sounded like…surprise. "Then…why are you here?"

"I failed to kill him. Jiraiya freed me from prison. We found Tsunade and then returned here."

"That's…uh…I'm not sure I understand. Could you maybe provide a little more detail?"

"Yo, kid!" Jiraiya was standing below them, looking sprier than his five decades would suggest, and was cheerily waving one hand up at the two of them. "Come on down, we've got things to discuss!"

"Sure," Utakata replied. "Give me—"

"No no, not you. I want Gaara."

"Oh." Again, there was a note of what the redhead guessed to be surprise in the brunet's voice. "I guess I'll just…leave you to it then."

Gaara ignored the older Jinchūriki, instead rising to his feet and jumping down to the courtyard, maintaining a healthy distance from Jiraiya. The Sannin motioned with his head to the inside of the complex, and Gaara followed him, their steps unhurried. He was led into a room lined with filled bookshelves, a large wooden table set at its center.

Tsunade stood next to the table; Rōshi was tucked into one corner of the room, arms folded over his chest. Jiraiya walked over to the Hokage and motioned to the lone piece of furniture. "Alright, kid, it's your turn," he said. "Hop on up."

Gaara obeyed with meticulous slowness, liberating himself from both the white sash and tan belt that crossed his body in an 'x' from shoulder to hip, the gourd he carried on his back falling with the belt. His posture straightened at the sudden loss of weight, and the redhead found himself fixated by the discarded objects with an unknown feeling. He'd carried the burden of his gourd for so long, using the sand within – Mother's sand – to prove his existence, that to willingly divest himself of it was…strange.

But if he was trying to be stronger than the person he was before he'd met Naruto, maybe it was better this way.

"Gaara?"

The redhead looked up to find both Sannin looking at him, Jiraiya's expression more concerned than the blonde's. Tone cautious, the older man probed, "Everything okay?"

"Yes." He hoisted himself onto the table, laying supine at Tsunade's direction. All was quiet as she ran hands glowing with green chakra over him. From his periphery, he could see Jiraiya scribbling ink on the walls in patterns beyond the Suna-nin's comprehension. Eventually, the older man put away his writing instruments and held his hand up to the squiggles. The markings spread along the walls, ceiling, and floor at his touch, forming an interconnected matrix of glowing blue glyphs throughout the room.

"Well, there's nothing physically wrong with him," Tsunade eventually announced. The sound of shuffling papers made its way to Gaara's ears, and he returned his attention to the female Sannin. "These reports say he's never been injured on a mission, and he's apparently completed a B-rank solo, so I guess that makes sense."

"Sounds like a Jinchūriki ter me," Rōshi commented dryly.

"Hm. I'm more concerned about this psych evaluation that was done while we had him incarcerated. Narcissistic, socio- and psychopathic tendencies, bloodthirsty, not to mention a political prisoner of war… Jeez, Jiraiya, why the hell would you ever vouch for him?"

"Because if Naruto had been in the room, he would've."

"Aye, but th' brat ain't th' sharpest rock."

"You didn't see them together when we were searching for Tsunade," Jiraiya rebutted. "Gaara's learning to be normal."

"Jinchūriki ain't normal!" Rōshi argued.

"I already regret this," Tsunade muttered. Louder, she announced, "Okay, enough. I have actual responsibilities to get to, and we're here for a reason."

"Ah, right. Good point, hime." Jiraiya approached the table and stood directly in Gaara's field of vision. "Gaara, I'm going to check your seal now."

"I assumed," the Suna-nin intoned.

"Yes, well, this is not gonna be as easy as Tsunade's evaluation just was. See, when I stopped you before, I applied a Gogyō Fūin."

"That is why I lack power."

"It is a nifty little trick," Jiraiya said, sounding pleased with himself. More soberly, he continued, "The problem is, I can't properly check your seal without removing the Gogyō Fūin. And that'll probably hurt."

"Hurt…" Gaara repeated, testing the word. "I will be…in pain?" Naruto had said he would be able to heal the pain the Suna-nin felt, yet now he was being told he would have to endure more.

Jiraiya looked…sad? "Unfortunately yes. Given your history, we're taking precautions, but we don't know what to expect once I undo the seal. Can't say I've ever had to use this trick on a Jinchūriki before."

The redhead was quiet for a long moment, musing over what the Sannin had told him. "Very well."

"Okay," Jiraiya agreed. He nodded to Rōshi, who approached the table, and to Tsunade, who stood near the boy's feet. The Iwa-nin twisted his fingers through seals, and lava bubbled to life within his palms. He approached the younger redhead's left side, cupping his hands over his wrist until a band of shiny black obsidian strapped the limb to the table. He repeated that for the Sand shinobi's other wrist and both ankles, flat teal eyes watching his every movement. When all four limbs were restrained, Rōshi moved to stand opposite Jiraiya, molten globules no bigger than an apple in each hand. He nodded at the Sannin.

Jiraiya rubbed his hands together. "Alright, kid, we're about to get started. Friendly reminder, this will probably hurt. A lot. But we're on your side, and we're doing this to make sure you're okay. Okay?"

"Yes."

"Alright then." The fingertips of his right hand glowed blue with chakra; Gaara could barely make out kanji within each chakra flame before the white-haired man plunged his hand into the boy's stomach.

Power flooded Gaara's veins as the Five Elements Seal came undone, and for a second, he remembered what it felt like to be strong.

Then the strength morphed into something ugly, and Gaara screamed, a high-pitched, ear-piercing howl. Streams of sand rose from his body, his Armor of Sand cracking and becoming patchwork as it was used to create the fine tendrils of silica.

"Rōshi!"

"Aye, I see 'em!"

"PAIN!"

It was like Uchiha Sasuke had shoved his lightning-covered fist into every cell of his body, but this time there was no entry wound, no blood, just an unending agony that was magnitudes worse than anything he'd felt before. He shouted for Mother, trying to find a tether of familiarity to cling to—

"LET ME OUT, LET ME OUT, FREEE MEEEE!"

Mother was shrieking, a white-hot knife stabbing repeatedly into his brain and setting his ears ringing. He screamed again, louder, longer, but it still couldn't drown out the sound of Mother's unceasing wails for freedom, for blood, for mayhem—

"Gogyō Fūin!"

Gaara gasped soundlessly when a weight struck his stomach, voice depleted from screaming. Teal eyes opened wide and his body jackknifed upright, stopped by the restraints around his wrists and ankles. Splayed around him like deformed sentinels were spindly towers of dark rock. He tried to ask about them, but the only thing to escape his throat was a raw, raspy exhale. "I wouldn't try talking just yet," Jiraiya advised. "You've got nothing left in the tank. Rōshi, can you, you know—" he gestured towards the Suna-nin.

"Aye, if that's what yeh want."

The Iwa-nin walked around the table, placing his hands upon each restraint and forcing them to crumble with a quick application of chakra. When Gaara's hands were free, he took the glass of water Tsunade offered him and drank from it in small sips. When the blonde Sannin held a hand glowing with medical chakra up to his throat, he jerked away, spilling several drops of liquid onto his hand. "I'm not going to hurt you," Tsunade said, sounding…annoyed? But her words were also…gentle, like Yashamaru had been before— "I'm trying to help."

Naruto's eager visage flashed in his mind's eye, the blond's reassurance that people would help him echoing where Mother's shrieks had left a cavernous silence. He made a noise of consent, and Tsunade proceeded to raise her hand to his throat, soothing the raw feeling within. When it felt like he could finally speak, he croaked a raspy, unsure, "…Thank…you."

"Hmph." She turned to Jiraiya, hands fisted on her hips. "Hope you got what you needed. That's an hour of my life I'd rather not relive."

"Yeh think that was bad, try fightin' th' Ichibi."

"By definition what we're currently trying to prevent," Tsunade deadpanned. "Jiraiya?"

The white-haired man exhaled a heavy sigh. "Well, the good news is, I got a good enough look at the seal that we don't have to do this again."

Tsunade arched an eyebrow. "And the bad news?"

Gaara observed both Sannin, expression unreadable. It appeared to be mirrored in the faces of those evaluating him, though it might have been that the only thing making them unreadable was his inability to perceive their thoughts. Tsunade looked…stern…and Jiraiya appeared…thoughtful? Or maybe sad.

He angled his head to look at Rōshi, standing to his left, but the older redhead offered no further insight, his brow furrowed in a deep scowl. Hmm…

Jiraiya coughed. "Well, that's complicated. The seal is stable…ish."

"Stable-ish?" Tsunade repeated through clenched teeth. "That's not a thing. We don't classify patients as 'stable-ish', they're either stable or critical, so which is it?"

"I'm sorry, but in this case it's stable-ish!" Jiraiya insisted. His teammate opened her mouth to protest, but he quickly cut across her, saying, "Just give me a chance to explain, hime.

"By all accounts, his seal appears to be working as intended. Keep in mind, fūinjutsu is not a universal art, so each village has its own, ah…style, let's say, and I'm not exactly an expert on every variation."

"Yeh looked over my seal," Rōshi noted.

"There aren't too many seals that can contain a Bijū," Jiraiya explained. "Only a handful of arrays can handle that much chakra, especially from back in the days when you were sealed. If I'm being honest, I'm doing some guesswork based on what I know of how seals are supposed to overlay and interact.

"Gaara's seal has some more modern elements, which is helpful, but the design is…strange. Actually, when I was examining it, I was reminded a little of when Sensei had us dissect those puppets during the war, figure out how they ticked, remember, hime?"

"How could I forget?" Tsunade grumbled. "Chiyo and her damn poisons made my life a living hell. So you're saying, what, Gaara's a puppet?"

"Hah!" Rōshi scoffed. "Ain't that th' truth."

Both Sannin shot the Iwa-nin a displeased side-eye before Jiraiya elaborated, "Obviously it's a bit more complicated than that, but otherwise, yeah, you could probably say that. For all intents and purposes, a Jinchūriki is basically a human storage scroll for an unfathomable amount of chakra, not unlike how puppeteers use puppets to store weapons and traps. Sorry if I'm being insensitive," he said to the two redheads. Rōshi merely shrugged.

The Toad Sannin's explanation continued, "Of course, since puppets aren't human, there are less constraints when applying seals to them than to a person. That's why Jinchūriki seals like Naruto's or Rōshi's are much more complex in design, because humans are going to have to grow and adapt to what's sealed inside them, whereas a puppet is not."

Tsunade was nodding along with her teammate's dissertation. "So Suna basically created an autonomous puppet that would release…what, chakra? Constantly?"

"That seems to be the gist, yeah. See, the seal is…loose might be the best way to describe it, but it appears to be intentional. It seems to have been designed to allow constant two-way interaction between the Bijū and the host, which is definitely not what puppeteering seals are intended to do. I can't say what it would be like to constantly struggle against another entity for control, but"—he glanced at Gaara—"I'm guessing we're looking at the result."

Rōshi snorted. "Explains a lot."

"So again, is he stable?" Tsunade asked.

"The Gogyō Fūin is an odd-arrayed fūinjutsu, and whatever primary seal they used looks like some version of a Dō-Suzu Fūin, which is a pretty old-school even-arrayed fūinjutsu—"

"Yes or no, Jiraiya," she growled.

"So long as the Gogyō Fūin is active, the connection between Gaara and his Bijū is cut off. Mostly."

"Mostly?" Tsunade was starting to sound like how she had in her office the day before, when Utakata and Rōshi had been reluctant to answer her questions. Angry, Gaara thought.

Jiraiya scratched the side of his face with a finger. "I can't explain it, but Gaara has been able to use his sand abilities despite the Gogyō Fūin. Little things mostly, so I haven't been all that concerned, but even that shouldn't be possible."

Rōshi started laughing, and all eyes turned to him. "Yer all daft."

Tsunade's eyebrow twitched. "Excuse me?"

"Th' sand ain't his Bijū ability."

"It's not?" the Sannin chorused. Gaara stared at the older redhead, curious what he would say next. "So what is it?" Jiraiya asked.

The Iwa-nin cast a strange look at the younger redhead before telling the taller Leaf shinobi, "Don' matter none if he's sealed."

Tsunade grunted, arms crossed over her chest. "Helpful. So, Jiraiya, what's the next step?"

The Toad Sannin shrugged. "Nothing much I can do. It's not typically a good idea to tamper with an existing seal, especially if you don't know exactly what it is. Like I said, I kind of understand its base components, but that's not the whole picture, and sealing a Bijū…" He sighed. "It's not exactly a well-studied field, hime. I'm good, but even I wouldn't want to fiddle around with it. I don't know of any way to fix a Jinchūriki seal without completely reinventing it."

"Can you not do that?"

All eyes turned to Gaara. The redhead stared at them in turn, expression blank. He wondered if they'd forgotten he was in the room, since most of their discussion had seemed to ignore his presence. It was…unusual. The citizens of Suna had constantly been wary of him, even when they weren't worth his attention, that he'd always known he was being observed, too dangerous to leave unattended for any stretch of time.

But now, to be in a situation where he was the weakest person in the room, so much so that he could go ignored by everyone else, was…

He didn't know the word for what he felt. He'd told Rōshi the previous night that he was powerless, and despite the older man's claim to the contrary, it felt truer than ever. Before meeting Naruto, knowing there were people out there stronger than him but whom he couldn't kill would have driven him to madness. Now it just seemed…increasingly commonplace. Like another grain of sand within his gourd, indistinguishable from all the rest.

Jiraiya cleared his throat and answered, "Like I said, I'm not exactly an expert on Jinchūriki seals in particular, so I can't say for sure, but to do so would require extracting the Bijū, holding it in a temporary container, creating a new seal, and then resealing it—"

"It'll kill yeh," Rōshi announced bluntly.

Gaara blinked at the older redhead. "Ah."

"So you're telling me I agreed to take in a mentally unstable Jinchūriki with an equally unstable seal that we can't fix," Tsunade summarized. Her fingers were rubbing circles around her temples. "Wonderful. Is it too late to return him to Suna?"

"They will kill me."

Again, Gaara found three pairs of eyes on him, though this time they seemed less surprised and more…questioning? "The Kazekage is only interested in how valuable something is to the village," he explained, voice monotone. "He could not control me, and spent years trying to kill me because he could not use me for his intended purposes. I was more valuable dead…until he sought to use me for the invasion." The Suna-nin looked down at his hands. "That was a failure. What value I did have is gone, as is my reason for existing.

"Now, like this…" he flexed one hand experimentally, watching tiny granules of sand swirl around his palm, "he will certainly succeed in killing me."

Silence reigned for several moments before Jiraiya offered, "If it's any consolation, your father's dead, so no worries there."

Gaara blinked again; that sounded familiar. Had Jiraiya told him that before? It felt like so much had happened recently, he couldn't keep it all straight. "Ah." He wondered if he should have felt something at that news, and if so, what. "It matters not. Suna does not tolerate failure."

"So he stays," Tsunade concluded.

Jiraiya nodded. "Seems that way."

"Great," she grumbled. "One more thing to add to the watchlist."

"So…you cannot help me."

Tsunade arched an eyebrow at the Sand Genin. "What do you mean?"

"Naruto…he said that people have helped him, and that those people would help me. Jiraiya helped Naruto when we were looking for you," he noted, "but he just said he cannot help me. You do not know how to help me," he addressed Tsunade. Teal eyes flickered to Rōshi. "He does not trust me enough to help."

"If yeh'd fought th' Ichibi, yeh'd know why."

"Look kid," Jiraiya interjected, pausing when the Suna-nin turned to level him with an intense stare. The Sannin seemed to reconsider his words, saying instead, "Gaara…it's not that we don't want to help you, but in this case, it just may not be possible. You think Tsunade or I want to have a Jinchūriki with a questionable seal in the village?"

"The Kazekage did not." The redhead glanced at Tsunade before returning his attention to her teammate. "I imagine the Hokage would not either."

"That's right," Jiraiya agreed.

"Will you also try to kill me?"

"No," the Toad Sannin immediately asserted. "We'll do what we can to keep you on the straight and narrow here, but there are limits to our abilities, to what help we can provide. This…what you're asking may be stretching what's plausible."

"Hn."

"Gaara, you may not want to hear this, but sometimes the only way to get the help you need is to help yourself," Tsunade said.

He blinked at the Hokage. "Help…myself?"

"Your psychological evaluation has a lot of red flags that concern me. Between that and some of the things I've heard from both Jiraiya and Rōshi, I think you could benefit from professional help. You're not a shinobi of Konoha, and based on what Jiraiya's said, it doesn't seem like you're currently capable of losing control and causing harm to the village, so I'm not going to order you to do anything. My experience has been that forcing a patient to do something makes them more unwilling to receive the treatment they need, so if you really want help, you'll have to make that decision for yourself." She nodded to Jiraiya, throwing a curt bob of her head to Rōshi. "I'm done here. I trust you can finish up."

"Yeah, I got it, hime." Tsunade left at her teammate's reassurance, and when she was gone, Jiraiya told Gaara, "You're free to go, too. I've got things to tend to, and I suspect you have things to think about."

At the white-haired man's dismissal, the redhead picked up his discarded sash and gourd and left through the same door Tsunade had. He found his way back outside, returning to the courtyard where he'd initially started his morning and finding a measure of solace in the isolation of the wide outdoors.

"Hey, Gaara!"

He turned his head to find Naruto walking through the entrance to the compound, a duffle bag thrown over his shoulder. The blond was waving at him with unbridled enthusiasm, and Gaara exhaled loudly through his nose in a rare expression of irritation. Handling Naruto while sealed and forced to suffer the Leaf shinobi's optimistic babbling had already been a test of his willpower; having to do it after he'd been told by the people the blond had said would help him that they couldn't help him was just…

Again, he couldn't put a word to the feeling.

That was also becoming annoying. Ever since Yashamaru had died, Gaara hadn't known an emotion stronger than the desire to kill those meant to prove his existence. Now, in the span of a month, he'd experienced too many instances of pain, loneliness, frustration, sadness…

And once, for a brief moment, a vague recollection from his childhood that felt unfamiliarly like hope.

It was too difficult to follow each emotion evoked from being around Naruto, not to mention trying to figure out what those around the blond – Jiraiya, Tsunade, Rōshi, Utakata – felt.

"This place is awesome! It's way bigger than my apartment, and—hey, are you okay?"

A hand landed on his shoulder, and Gaara twitched at the contact. He turned to face Naruto, who recoiled slightly at the quickness of the movement. The blond took a step backwards, apparently remembering his fellow Jinchūriki's preference for space. "I…do not know how to feel."

"How to feel? You mean about bein' here? Did Tsunade and Jiraiya-sensei say something after I got kicked out yesterday? That sucked, by the way, they—"

The redhead shook his head, closing his eyes against the onslaught of questions. Even without Mother shrieking inside his skull, he could feel the familiar beginnings of a headache. "Shut up," he growled. Naruto immediately obeyed the directive, and when Gaara felt he could open his eyes again, he found the same concern Yashamaru had once shown him shimmering in azure blue irises. "You said people would help me, but there is nothing anyone can do for me."

"Eh? Whaddya mean?"

"I am…broken. My purpose was taken from me, and no one is able to fix me."

"What? That's crap!" Now Naruto looked mad; he'd seen that expression on some of the stronger shinobi in the Hidden Sand, those who had wanted to kill him but couldn't. "You're not broken, and you don't need to be fixed! Did Jiraiya-sensei tell you that?" He started marching towards the building's entrance. "I'm gonna beat the crap outta him!"

"Yeh ain't gonna git anythin' from 'im."

"Rōshi-oji!"

"Yer friend's dealin' with somethin' he's never thought o' afore," Rōshi said, ambling out of the same entrance Naruto had just been heading for, "an' it ain't Jiraiya's fault. Yeh gotta let 'im work it out."

"But…" the blond looked back at Gaara, "it's not right. I promised Gaara that we would help him, and now you're saying there's nothin' we can do?"

Rōshi shrugged. "Not th' way he wants."

"Can't you train him, like you trained me?"

The Iwa-nin barked a laugh before turning and walking back into their new abode. Naruto frowned as he departed, unable to interpret the older Jinchūriki's nonresponse. He turned back to face Gaara, stalking towards the Suna-nin and reaching out to grab his arm.

Gaara flinched away from the blond's touch, and for a moment, another emotion he couldn't identify…sadness maybe, but different?…flickered across Naruto's features. It disappeared from view when Naruto began to stalk around the courtyard, urging, "C'mon."

The redhead followed at a sedate pace. "Where are we going?"

"We're gonna find someone who can help," Naruto asserted. "There's gotta be someone. Rōshi-oji's not really great at the, uh, people thing."

Gaara stared at the back of the other boy's head. "…People thing?"

"He's kinda mean," the blond elaborated, "but he's not so bad when you get used to him. What we need is—hey, Utakata-nii!"

The brunet who had approached him earlier that morning was sitting in front of a small koi pond. Gaara could make out a small, intricate design of three overlapping spheres of different sizes at the nape of the teenager's blue kimono. At the sound of his name, Utakata turned to look at them. "Oh, Naruto. And Gaara. I guess your exams went well."

"No."

"No?" the brunet echoed.

"Utakata-nii, everyone's sayin' they can't help Gaara, but I promised him that we could," Naruto answered in the redhead's place. His voice was a little high-pitched, almost desperate, as he spoke to the older Jinchūriki. "You helped me, can you help him, too?"

Utakata smiled. "I'm more than happy to help out, Naruto, you know that." He turned to the Suna-nin. "What kind of help are you looking for?"

"Jiraiya says my seal is…stable-ish," Gaara intoned, "and Rōshi will not train me to become strong."

The Kiri-nin blinked at him. "Oh. Well, I understand why you came to me, but…I'm not sure there's anything I can do about those things. I'm not skilled in fūinjutsu, and I don't think I can really train you either. I use Suiton; I assume you're versed in Fūton?"

"Sand."

"Definitely not something I know how to train." Another expression that looked like sadness, yet different from how Naruto had looked. "I'm really sorry, you know I'd help if I could…"

Gaara turned to face Naruto. "As I said, no one can help me." He turned and walked away even as Naruto protested to Utakata and the pair engaged in a fierce debate.

The redhead returned to where his morning had started, taking a seat on the roof of the compound and staring out across Konoha with eyes that saw nothing. As he'd told Rōshi the night before, there was a part of him that wanted to believe the things Naruto said; he'd spent almost a month watching the blond work unceasingly on whatever task Jiraiya had given him despite every setback, and that gave credence to the strength the redhead sought.

In that way, Naruto was someone he wished to emulate, and the Leaf native had promised him that the people he'd learned from would help him. Now that they'd tried and failed to get him that same aid, it felt like the blond had lied to him.

And that made him…

He frowned, unable to process the emotion. It was like being annoyed – a feeling he was becoming all too familiar with, between his brother's antics in the Chūnin Exams and how Naruto hovered over him – but much stronger.

"Gaara!" Teal eyes turned to find Naruto leaping to the roof. The blond paused in his approach. "Hey, don't be mad."

"…Mad?" He'd never had a reason to be mad before. Is this…anger?

Naruto continued talking. "It doesn't matter that Rōshi-oji and Utakata-nii don't know what to do. Or anyone else. I'll help you, no matter what! That's a promise, believe it!"

"Why?"

"Why?" the blond repeated. "Because we're friends, and that's what friends do." He scratched the side of his head with a finger. "I think, anyway…haven't really had many friends."

Gaara grunted, empathizing with the sentiment but unable to truly vocalize it. "Why should I believe you?"

"Eh?"

"You keep saying that people will help, or that you will help, but nothing supports your claims. You wish to be friends, but do not know what that means. You have said nothing true." He turned away from Naruto. "Following you was supposed to make me strong, but that does not seem possible."

"Why not?" Gaara returned his gaze to the blond, staring at him with an unyielding intensity that questioned if the other boy had even heard what he'd said. "It took me awhile to get strong, but I did it, and I'll keep gettin' stronger to protect everyone. Rōshi-oji and Utakata-nii always tell me that things take time." His brow furrowed. "It sucks, but that's just the way it is sometimes. You just gotta be patient."

"To what end?"

"To…get better?" the blond hedged. "I don't understand."

"Get…better…" Gaara repeated, tasting the words.

It wasn't the first time someone had mentioned that to him – Rōshi had suggested something similar the other night, and Tsunade had said the same this morning – but coming from Naruto, the one person he wanted to believe in, the idea gave him pause. For so long, he'd been listening to the blond say that he would be able to help and that things would be okay going forward, and in a way, the redhead had made decisions because he'd been relying upon those assertions.

"Hey, Gaara," Naruto began, drawing the redhead's attention back to him, "everything'll be okay, okay? You can believe in me. I know it might seem hard now, but it's nothing compared to what we've gone through so far, right?" He'd started walking towards the Ichibi Jinchūriki and was now within the Sand shinobi's personal space, closer than anyone else dared to get. With deliberate slowness, he reached out a hand and placed it on Gaara's shoulder. "Don't give up, okay? Things'll for sure get better, believe it."

Gaara shifted his gaze to stare at the tan hand resting on his shoulder; Naruto's desire to be close was starting to become familiar, and though he couldn't say he liked it, it didn't bother him as much as he thought it would. It had been a long time since anyone had wanted to be close to him, and without the urge to kill people echoing incessantly in his head, he could remember a time before he'd lived only for himself, when Yashamaru would get close and he didn't mind the nearness.

He didn't have a verbal response to the blond's optimism. Instead, his head bobbed once, slowly, in brief acknowledgment of what Naruto had said, though he still wasn't sure he fully believed the other boy.

Naruto smiled at him, and Gaara again felt the strange urge to believe the blond despite all his misgivings. "I've gotta go. Utakata-nii said he wants to pick up our training. You gonna be okay here?" The redhead blinked, expression implacable, which the other boy took as affirmation. "Alright, I'm gonna head out then. Let me know if you need somethin', okay? Anything. I'll be there, I swear it."

Gaara nodded again, and with one last backwards glance, the blond left. Teal eyes watched him go, waiting until he was out of sight before he resumed his vacant stare, this time at the entrance of the Senju complex. His conversations over the course of the day replayed in his mind as the sun traversed the sky. He wasn't used to talking with people, or having people focused on him, or…really any of what had taken place over the last several weeks, all of which had given him much to think about.

More than he'd ever needed to devote time to in years past, and that…confused him.

Worst of all, he didn't know where to go from here, and that was…annoying.

So he sat and waited, looking at nothing and waiting for something to make sense.

By the time the sun was low on the horizon, he had no more answers than he had when Naruto had left him. Movement caught his attention, the first he'd seen in hours, and teal eyes flickered over to where a figure with blonde hair was striding through the entranceway. His body moved of its own accord, jumping down to intersect Tsunade's path into the house. She assumed a defensive position automatically at his presence. "Gaara," she acknowledged, honey eyes narrowed and muscles tense, "I don't recommend doing that again. Some might consider it…hostile."

"Ah."

Tsunade noticed his lack of aggressive intent and relaxed her posture. "Can I help you with something?"

"Yes." He didn't know how, but that seemed to be the right answer.

Tsunade arched an eyebrow at him when he didn't elaborate. "Okay…and how can I help you?"

"Hello Gaara. I don't know if you remember me—"

"I do."

Green eyes blinked at him. "Okay." The man watching him had sandy blond hair styled similarly to Gaara's own short spikes in front, and a long ponytail held in place by a topknot in back. His hands were laced together in his lap, a sleeveless, auburn-colored vest held closed over Konoha's regulation green flak jacket. "Given the different circumstances we're under, I think it best to start over. I'm Yamanaka Inoichi. Tsunade-sama informed me that you'd like therapy."

"I need help," Gaara intoned.

Inoichi nodded. "It's a good sign if you can recognize that. This may sound indelicate, but when I first did your psychological evaluation, you didn't seem like the type of person who would accept help."

"There are no other options available to me."

"That's unfortunate," Inoichi allowed. "Why do you feel that way?"

Gaara blinked. "Why?"

Inoichi leaned forward in his chair, one of two that had been placed across from each other in the same room Gaara's seal had been evaluated in. The redhead remained standing despite the other man's offer to take a seat at the beginning of their meeting. "I can offer you advice and guidance, but our sessions will require you to be honest with how you feel, and more importantly, why you feel that way. While I can guide you down the path to get to the root of your problems, you'll have to take the lead." He returned to a more lax position. "So, why don't you tell me why you feel like you have no other options."

Teal stared at green for a long time, during which the Yamanaka's gaze remained steadfast. It was strange that he didn't look away; Gaara was used to others being unable to deal with the intensity of his gaze. He blinked first, breaking their standoff, a feeling of defeat washing over him. "Naruto said he would help me, but he cannot. He said that others would help me, but they cannot. My seal is…faulty. My strength is diminished. I have no purpose." He'd lost track of how many times he'd heard or admitted those words throughout the day, and it seemed like the words got more definitive each time. "No…value."

"Well, I can understand why you seem to feel like you need help," Inoichi noted. "That's quite a list. Let's take it one at a time then. Why do you think your seal is faulty?"

"Jiraiya said so."

"That does seem fairly definitive, unfortunately. I can't say I understanding much about fūinjutsu, but Jiraiya-sama's reputation precedes him. There's no way to fix it?"

"None that he knows."

Inoichi's head bobbed up and down. "Do you want it fixed?"

Gaara stared at the older man. No one had asked him what he wanted before. "I…would," he replied slowly. He'd admitted as much during the evaluation. "It would help…fix me."

"Gaara, if you think of yourself as broken, the only one you hurt is yourself. Everyone needs help sometimes—"

"Do you?"

Inoichi let out a short laugh, so different from how Rōshi's sounded. For a brief moment, Gaara wished he knew why they were so dissimilar. "I'm guessing you don't know much about Konoha's clans. I don't mean to brag, but my teammates and I are kind of famous. My abilities are much more effective when used in conjunction with theirs. So yes, I need help as well." He cupped his chin with one hand. "Do you consider it a weakness to need help? You were a participant in the recent Chūnin Exams, so you must have had teammates of your own."

"Teammates…" Gaara repeated. "Yes. They were…my siblings."

"It must've been interesting to work with your siblings. I'm an only child, but having grown up with Shikaku and Chōza, I feel like I kind of know what it's like to have brothers."

"They were…present." Inoichi nodded once but didn't say anything. It felt like he wanted the redhead to speak without prompting, so Gaara continued, "I did not need their help. They were…a means to an end. They had no value but to get me into your village."

"That's a very utilitarian way of looking at things. Why do you say that?"

"That is how the Kazekage viewed his shinobi."

"The Kazekage is your father," Inoichi noted. "And you just spoke of him in the past tense, so I have to assume you know he's dead, but the way you talk about your family makes it seem like you don't care about them."

"They did not care about me, so why should I care about them," the redhead intoned, and even though it should have been a question, it was stated as a fact.

"Reciprocity is a fair way of looking at the world," the Leaf shinobi acknowledged, "but as a father myself, I have to say that your situation makes me a little sad."

"Sad?"

"My daughter's your age – you may have seen her in the Chūnin Exams – and to think of her living a life where she sees her teammates as…mission assets only, or me as a sort of authority figure incapable of love—"

"Love," Gaara interrupted. The word triggered something in him, and Inoichi's face seemed to morph into Yashamaru's in his mind's eye, their similar hair color helping his uncle's image superimpose itself on the therapist's. He closed his eyes and shook his head several times in an effort to rid himself of the image, his breathing becoming hitched.

"Gaara, are you okay? What's wrong?"

"I do not…love," he rasped. He continued shaking his head, falling into the chair that had been set out for him. "It…hurts…"

"Gaara, I need you to listen to me. Listen to my voice." His tone was calm and steady, soothing despite its deeper timbre. "Keep your eyes closed and breathe in. Deeply. Now breathe out. Good. Keep doing that, and then when you're ready, open your eyes. Take your time, there's no rush."

Following the Yamanaka's guidance, the redhead's breathing slowly evened out. When he eventually reopened his eyes, Inoichi's concerned visage greeted him. "You…helped me."

The sandy blond nodded. "It's what I do. Is that the first time you've experienced an anxiety attack?" Gaara shook his head. "I'll be honest, it would be a huge breakthrough if you're willing to talk about what triggers the attacks, but given how fresh this one was, I would understand if you don't want to."

"…My uncle," Gaara replied slowly. "He was…different. Like Naruto."

"You're referring to Uzumaki Naruto?" At the redhead's nod, Inoichi probed, "I'm not familiar with Naruto on a personal level, so how do you mean 'different'?"

"I…do not know how to describe it. They…care?"

Inoichi let out a low hum. "I think I understand. Based on how you've talked about your family, I'm going to guess that something happened with your uncle." Gaara nodded. "Something traumatic?" Another nod. "Can you be more specific?" The Suna-nin stared blankly ahead, and after several seconds of unresponsiveness, Inoichi gave his own nod. "That's okay, you may not be ready to talk about it."

The older man leaned forward in his chair and continued in an even voice, "Gaara, if you're really interested in getting help, I'm invested in helping you. And we'll move at your pace, no matter how long it takes. Truthfully, your progress since I performed your first evaluation is beyond what I would have expected given your pathologies. I think that, in order to keep moving forward, we should set small goals for you to achieve at the end of each session. Does that sound like something you're willing to work at?"

The response came to his lips unthinkingly, pulled by the lure of help he'd so desperately been denied in recent days. "Yes."

Inoichi smiled at him. "That's good. My wife and daughter are waiting for me, so I'm going to have to leave shortly, but why don't we set a goal for next week? Is there something in particular you'd like to focus on?"

His first instinct was to say 'no', because he didn't fully understand what Inoichi was asking of him even though he'd agreed to it, but something familiar about what the Leaf shinobi was asking gave him pause. Slowly, as if he was remembering the words as he spoke them, Gaara said, "Rōshi told me to find something to center myself."

"Something to center yourself," Inoichi repeated. "Like a hobby?" At Gaara's nod, he probed, "Okay, well, is there something you like to do?"

"Killing."

"How about something less destructive and more…relaxing?" Inoichi suggested. "What do you do when you have free time?'

"Nothing."

Inoichi quirked an eyebrow. "Nothing? I find that hard to believe. It's not an easy thing to remain completely unengaged for hours on end."

"I watch the moon."

"Hmm…" Inoichi rose from the chair and approached the bookshelves, running a finger along the spines of the tomes. After several minutes of reviewing the books, he let out an 'ah' of success, pulling a text from its place and walking back over to Gaara. He offered it to the redhead, who slowly reached out his own hand to receive it. "When you next have free time, take a look at this. It's from the Shodai's time, so it might be a little outdated, but you might find it interesting."

Gaara adjusted the book so that the cover was readable. "The Night Sky," he read.

"It's about astronomy," the Yamanaka said. "If you're going to watch the moon, you may as well learn about it, right? There's a lot you can learn if you take the time."

Time… That was something Gaara had in spades. "…Thank you."

Inoichi nodded. "One last thing before I leave. Everyone has value, including you, otherwise we as people wouldn't have purpose. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise, even yourself." He opened the door with a parting, "I'll be by next week. Oh, Jiraiya-sama, good evening."

"Evening, Inoichi."

Gaara looked on to find the white-haired Sannin leaning against the door frame, leveling the redhead with an even gaze. "So kid, how'd it go?"

The Suna-nin mulled over his conversation with Inoichi. It felt so different when compared to Rōshi's cynicism, Tsunade's frustration, Jiraiya's helplessness, or Naruto's anger…like the sandy blond wanted to help him and actually could. Actually had. It was… "Good."

"That's good." He gestured with his head towards the book in Gaara's hands. "What's that you got there?" The redhead held it up so Jiraiya could read the title for himself. One white eyebrow arched in surprise. "Didn't take you to be much of an astronomer. Or…a reader, to be honest."

"I am not." He turned the book over in his hands so the title was once more facing him. "Inoichi believes it will…interest me."

"It's not a bad thing to have a hobby."

"He said that as well."

"Inoichi's a smart guy," Jiraiya said. "You're in good hands with him."

"He also said you have a reputation in Konoha."

The Sannin smirked at him. "Ho ho, well, the great Toad Sage does have a way with the ladies—"

Gaara's eyebrows furrowed. "For fūinjutsu."

Jiraiya seemed to sober up at the interjection. "Ah. Well, yes, that's also true, but like I said earlier, my expertise only goes so far. I'm sorry that I can't help you—"

"Will you train me?"

The older man's eyes widened at the request. "Sorry?"

Even Gaara seemed surprised that he'd voiced the question, a brief silence settling between them as he processed what he'd said. "I…need help," he admitted slowly, working through his own thought process, "but I do not…possess the necessary skills. Naruto said Rōshi and Utakata would help me, but they cannot. You cannot fix me, but you have…knowledge I do not. I need that knowledge to…help myself."

"You want to learn fūinjutsu in order to…fix your own seal? Do I have that right?"

"In time."

"Can't say I saw this coming." Jiraiya fixed him with a gimlet eye, silently scrutinizing him for several moments. "Alright, kid, you seem pretty determined, and I'm kind of impressed by your dedication here. You keep working with Inoichi and don't cause any trouble, and I'll teach you what I know about fūinjutsu."

Gaara blinked. "…You will?"

"You're a friend of Naruto," Jiraiya offered by way of explanation, "and it seems like you're genuinely trying to be better. If you need my help to facilitate that, who am I to deny you? I'd rather see you trained right than left to fend for yourself; I suspect that's part of how you got to be the way you are."

"Mm." He made for the door, not yet willing to talk about his past with the older man, and stepped through it as Jiraiya moved aside for him. The Sannin's dark eyes stayed on his back as he ventured down the hallway and outside, finding the cool embrace of night waiting for him. One jump later found him back on the roof, where the moon shone down on him with white serenity.

As the events of the past couple days spun in his head, it felt a little like things had come full circle, especially since he was back where he'd started, except…now the circle was larger. His requests for help – to fix himself, to become strong in the same way Naruto had, to reclaim his purpose – were no longer completely unheeded. He was…worth something, and it felt…strange. But good.

So he opened The Night Sky to the first page and began reading.

Chapter Text

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.

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 minor clinking of his armor as he walked broke 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 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 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 implication 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 in decades, 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, "albeit less likely."

"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 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 targeting the Jinchūriki is a bigger threat than the single nukenin 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?"

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 something 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 Unrivalled 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 (for the second time that day), 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, Gaara 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 Unrivalled 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.

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 had a point. 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 earth-shattering 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 the Suna-nin, 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, the boy 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 unsteadily crawling 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 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 again 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, like them, had 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.

Chapter Text

"Alright, Uzumaki Naruto and Uchiha Sasuke, you're next."

Both boys stepped into the circle that represented the limits of the sparring ring and glared at each other. Their teacher, Umino Iruka, glanced between them, expression stern. "Come on now," he demanded, a tinge of exasperation in his tone, "you two have done this enough times to know what's expected. Each spar begins with the Seal of Confrontation—"

Glares frozen in place, the two 10-year-olds brought their right arms up, lifting their pointer and middle fingers so the tips were even with their chins. Iruka nodded in acknowledgment. "Good. Now—"

"Begin!" Naruto shouted, rushing the dark-haired boy. Sasuke didn't move, waiting until the blond was almost upon him before ducking a straight jab and throwing an uppercut into the charging boy's stomach. Naruto gasped, and Sasuke followed up by slamming his fist into the boy's jaw, followed by a flip-kick that laid him out on his back, trying to catch his breath.

"Well done, Sasuke," Iruka praised. "Now, come together and make the Seal of Reconciliation—"

"Not a chance!" Naruto snapped hoarsely, finding his voice again. "That bastard cheated, I know it!"

"Naruto!" Iruka shouted, temper flaring. "You lost because you can't read the flow of battle! Blindly attacking your opponent is not the way to win. Now make the Seal of Reconciliation with Sasuke—"

"Screw that!"

"DETENTION!"

Naruto stuck his tongue out at his teacher, eyebrows furrowed in a scowl. Punishment or not, anything was better than admitting defeat to the stuck-up Uchiha. I'll show you one day, he swore. You'll see.

"So kid, how goes the training?"

Jiraiya's sudden interruption caused his chakra to flare, and the spherical balloon he held in his right hand blew apart. "Aw, come on!"

"Still having trouble, eh? Not everyone can keep it up for long periods of time."

There was a sly tone in the older man's voice that felt…icky…so the blond decided to ignore whatever he was trying to imply. After what seemed like weeks of Jiraiya being too busy for him, he could finally ask for advice. "I don't get it, Jiraiya-sensei," Naruto admitted, trying and failing to disguise the annoyed whine in his voice. "What am I doin' wrong?"

"Ah, well, that's for you to figure out on your own," the Sannin advised in a tone implying sage wisdom, "as is honored tradition. Minato didn't offer me any advice when I learned, and he spent three years creating it on his own. The struggle is part of the journey."

Naruto frowned at him for his uselessness, but then his expression became pensive. Minato… He'd heard that name before, and in an important context, but—

"What's the matter, kid? You look confused as I've ever seen you."

"Minato," he replied absently, voice quiet.

"Hm?"

"Minato," he repeated louder. "It sounds familiar, but I can't think of where I've heard it before…" His brows knit further together in a tight vee as he wracked his brain. History was never something he'd paid close attention to, barring the stories about the Fourth Hokage, and— "Oh! He's my dad!" And suddenly his excitement at remembering why the name was so significant flowed over into what he was learning. "You're teaching me my dad's jutsu?!"

Jiraiya looked…well, gobsmacked was probably the right word. He'd seen the same expression on Utakata's face a handful of times during training, and Rōshi had called it that. "How do you know that?"

"Oh, Rōshi-oji and Utakata-nii told me when we met." For how much he'd struggled to recall it, the memory was suddenly clear in his mind's eye. Utakata had been telling him about Jinchūriki and Bijū, about how the story of the Yondaime's defeat of the Kyūbi was a fairytale invented by the Hidden Leaf's higher-ups, and then they'd told him not to…tell anyone…

Ah crap…

Well, there was no going back at this point. And Jiraiya had apparently learned from the Fourth! He couldn't remember if the white-haired man had mentioned that during their travels, but if he had, it had likely escaped his attention at the time. It wouldn't now. "Did you know the Yondaime?" he asked, his body practically vibrating with excitement. "What was he like? Did you know my mom, too? What was she like?"

"Woah, slow down, kid," Jiraiya said, holding a hand up to forestall the blond's rapid-fire questions. "One at a time. Let's see, where to begin…" he mused, pointer finger tapping his chin in thought. "Well, Minato was a natural genius; learned everything I taught him quick as a flash. Not that that's how he got his nickname, but it was definitely applicable to more than just the battlefield—"

"I don't care about that stuff," Naruto interrupted, "I wanna know what they were like."

His blue eyes were beseeching, desperate with a longing for knowledge he'd been denied for too many years. The corner of Jiraiya's mouth quirked slightly, brown eyes softening with fondness. "Fair enough. Well, your dad was one of the bravest people I knew, and he always fought to defend the people he cared about. When he and your mom were Genin, some Kumo-nin kidnapped her, and Minato tracked them down by following strands of hair she'd left behind to rescue her. I guess it was quite the romantic gesture," the Sannin added with a smirk.

"Her hair?" Naruto asked, again ignoring the older man's sly aside.

"Your mom had beautiful, long, straight red hair, like a ripe tomato. It was a really common trait among the Uzumaki, and it caught your dad hook, line, and sinker."

Naruto frowned. "But…I'm an Uzumaki, and I don't have red hair…" He ran a hand through his blond locks as if to drive home the point, expression morose. Such a distinctive trait of his family, and he hadn't gotten it? Feels kinda like I don't belong.

Jiraiya placed a hand atop the boy's head, drawing blue eyes back to him, and ruffled the spiky strands. "Win some, lose some, kid. If it's any consolation, you're a lot like her." Naruto's head cocked to the side, silently asking for him to elaborate. "You both act before thinking things through, you're stubborn, you never shut up, and you both get really animated when you think you know best. Which, by the way, is way too often."

The blond rubbed beneath his nose with a finger, eyes closed and grin wide, clearly embarrassed. "Heheh, really?"

"Oh yeah. Thanks to her temper and her hair, everyone used to call her the Red Hot-Blooded Habanero. You have her face, you know. Minato's eyes and hair, of course, but everything else is all Kushina. Except your loyalty – that you get from both of them." He patted the boy on the head, offering him a wide smile. "They loved you with everything they had. Never forget that."

"Why did they—" he swallowed the question, hesitation nakedly written across his face. "If they loved me, why did they put the Kyūbi inside me? Why does everyone else hate me?"

"Ah." Jiraiya's jovial expression fell, solemnity in every feature. "That I can't answer. Not being here when the Kyūbi attacked is one of my greatest regrets."

"Rōshi-oji and Utakata-nii said that Jinchūriki are chosen so they'll be loyal to the village."

"They probably have a point. Other villages— no, sorry, all the villages see Jinchūriki as weapons, and every Kage is responsible for seeing that their village is as protected as it can be. Even Konoha…" he paused, took a shuddering breath, and continued, "I've seen your seal, Naruto, and it's different from your mom's. She was the Jinchūriki before you." The Sannin pushed past his student's open-mouthed shock, trying to explain as much as he could before he was interrupted. "No, I don't know why she was chosen, and I can't explain what Konoha was thinking, but I know for a fact that Minato and Kushina would never have done what they did if they didn't think you could handle it.

"Minato…he trusted you with a power that even Kushina never had. Most Jinchūriki simply contain their Bijū, maybe tap into the Bijū's attributes, but your seal is meant to allow you to use the Kyūbi's power as your own, transform it directly into strength. I knew Minato, and he wouldn't have done that unless it was completely necessary. He loved the village, and would have done anything to protect it, but he loved you and your mom so much more. If you could have seen him when he told me he was gonna be a dad…" Jiraiya shook his head, grinning to himself. "Kid, the words don't exist to convey how happy he was. I hope one day you're able to understand that feeling. Maybe then you'll understand what they did."

Naruto sniffled, using his sleeve to wipe his face. Jiraiya was pointedly watching a nearby pair of birds, allowing the blond a moment of privacy. When he was once more in control of himself, the blond asked, "Do you think so? But Sakura-chan never wants to go out with me!"

"Ah, one of those girls." The older man turned a grin toward his student. "You know, Tsunade was much the same with me when we were growing up. And now look at us."

"Er, doesn't she hate you?"

"There's a very thin line between love and hate, kid." At the blond's confused look, he coughed and added, "Buuut…it's possible that you're barkin' up the wrong tree." Naruto frowned at that, the idea somehow unfathomable. "You're young, you've got time. Maybe try focusing on your ninjutsu first, and when you finally figure out the Rasengan, then you can figure out how to treat yourself to a reward."

Naruto blinked. "Reward?"

Jiraiya let out a long-suffering sigh, shaking his head with a bemused chuckle. "Ahh, so naïve. You'll learn someday."

"It feels like it's takin' forever," the blond grumbled.

"That might be the case, but good things come to those who wait." At Naruto's annoyed scowl, the Sannin let out an amused snort. "Heh, you're still full of spirit. That's good. Remember that when you go up against someone who thinks they're better than you. I always did, and look where I am now."

Naruto eyed the older man speculatively, measuring his worth. "Yeah…" he agreed slowly, deeming his (sometimes) teacher to be a worthwhile role model, "yeah, okay! So what's next?"

"Keep practicing. And when the time comes, I'll help you beat down the Kyūbi worse than Minato did."

"What about now?"

"You have other things to work on now," Jiraiya pointed out, "and there are plenty of people better suited than me to teach you those things. When you're ready, we'll start working on getting you to the next level. In the meantime, good things come to those who wait."

Naruto let out a huff, but then held out his hand palm-up. Jiraiya tossed him another round balloon, and the blond's attention fixed itself on the sphere. Tongue poking out from between his teeth, chakra swirling within the balloon, he could feel—

Bang!

"Damn it!"

"Take a ready stance."

Naruto planted his feet and angled his body so his left side was forward, knees bent slightly and arms cocked at chest height with fists curled. His periphery caught Gaara, standing several feet to his left, glance at him and ape his posture.

Han snorted, and only months of dealing with Rōshi made the blond think that it reflected bemusement more than anything else. "You've really never thrown a punch, have you? I thought I was being hyperbolic, but apparently not."

"It was not necessary before," the redhead noted, seemingly unaffected by the Iwa-nin's analysis. "It is now. I require help."

"Clearly," Han deadpanned. "Who makes it through the Academy without becoming even slightly proficient at taijutsu?" he groused. Gaara opened his mouth to respond, but the giant held up a hand to forestall him. "No, don't answer that, it was rhetorical. Do you not understand inflection?"

"No."

"Fantastic. Well, you can relax for now. If we're starting from scratch, I'm not teaching you Rōshi's shitty taijutsu." Naruto watched the redhead relax back into a stiff standing position, his teal eyes never leaving the armored shinobi. It wasn't obvious, but Gaara's stoicism seemed different somehow. A week ago, his monotone had been angry, even desperate. His tone when he'd accused Naruto of lying to him had been so fraught with the insinuation of Naruto's complicity that the blond had expected him to lash out, threaten to kill him (again), a reversion to the boy who'd been grudgingly dragged across the Land of Fire in search of a woman he couldn't care less about.

But now he seemed…calm? Well, he always kind of came off that way, but now it felt more like…

He didn't know how to describe it. Gaara wasn't grumpy like Rōshi or gentle like Utakata, or even casually ambivalent like some of his friends back at the Academy. Most of the time he was just…present. Watching. It might've felt invasive if the redhead was even aware of how he came off to others. But the weight of the Suna-nin's stare normally felt…judgmental. He always listened, but he never seemed to hear, to understand.

Whatever was going on in the Suna-nin's head, he hadn't expected the other boy to interfere in his fight with Han. The idea that he was maybe getting through to the Sand Genin sent a shiver of hope down his spine. He'd been trying since before they'd even been formally introduced to get the redhead on his side – on their side, the alliance of Jinchūriki that Utakata had told him was so important without really explaining why. After Rōshi and Utakata had taken him into their confidence and doted on him full-time, it was gratifying to finally be able to contribute to their mission.

He squirmed with excitement at the thought, and the movement drew Han's scrutiny, his pupil-less brown eyes seeming to judge him. "At least you're centered well," he noted gruffly.

"Well, Rōshi-oji's a pretty tough sensei."

"I wouldn't know," the Iwa-nin snapped. Naruto visibly startled at giant's tone, and Han slipped his right hand beneath his gi and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. After several seconds, he opened his eyes and fixed the blond with a hard stare. "What he put you through will pale in comparison to this."

If it hadn't been for the months of training with Rōshi, who had presented all the same rough edges and intimidation tactics that Han now seemed to be employing, Naruto might have paused at the armored shinobi's warning. As it was, listening to Han try to scare him didn't seem all that different from every other day of training with his fellow Jinchūriki. "Bring it on, Han-san, I can take it."

"Hmph. You've got guts, kid, I'll give you that."

Naruto grinned; Jiraiya said that to him a lot, and it always sounded like a compliment.

"What exactly are you planning on doing to him?"

Han turned his head so he could see Utakata, who was sitting near the koi pond, watching them all. "Train him in taijutsu, like I said."

"Don't you have any methods that aren't just an excuse to beat someone else up?"

"Taijutsu is learned through exchanging blows." The Iwa-nin's tone allowed no argument. "The boy doesn't have a problem with my methods, why do you?"

"I don't believe that beating someone until they break is how to train someone! I've seen what it does to the shinobi of Kiri—"

"Turn them into whiny cowards, by my estimate," Han interjected.

"Utakata-nii, I can do this!"

The brunet turned to the blond and offered him a tentative smile. "It's not that you can't. I just think there's a better way." He returned his attention to Han and asked, "Can't you teach him Futton? He knows Suiton and Katon, and I've seen what Futton specialists can do in Kiri—"

"He is already being taught ninjutsu," the Iwa-nin argued, "and if you couldn't tell, my specialty does not focus on utilizing Futton like others might." He grabbed his left forearm with his right hand, left hand clenched into a fist, and rotated it, appearing to prepare for a fight. "If he wishes to learn how to use Futton as I do, then he'll need this." The plates of his armor clinked with every move, a mocking chorus of applause. "In the meantime, a proper punch is the best he can hope for."

"You're so…defeatist," Utakata replied quietly. "Futton is more than what you use it for. I'm telling you, I've seen it before—"

"Then perhaps you have something worthwhile to teach after all," Han grunted, "and I leave his Futton training in your capable hands. Until then, if you're so afraid for the boy, you can serve as his punching bag."

"Ah—"

"You sought to learn as well, did you not?" Han posed, sarcasm dripping from every word. "This way should alleviate any concerns that he will not be harmed while also teaching you. Is that not a win-win?"

Utakata stood with a sigh. "You Iwa-nin certainly have a way about you."

Han made a noise that might have been a grunt of agreement. "You're a fool if you thought I was going to fight him again as a first lesson. How can I effectively correct his taijutsu if I'm the target of his strikes?"

"But you—" the brunet spluttered.

"You were the presumptuous one," the armored shinobi accused. "Rōshi and I are not the same. I do not appreciate the implication that we are."

Utakata had the fair grace to look ashamed. "Ah. My apologies."

Another grunt, Han's brown eyes following the Kiri-nin as he took his place across from Naruto.

The blond's eyes finally stopped ping-ponging between the arguing pair, settling on the brunet teenager before him. Utakata had always been a little protective of him, and in the beginning, Naruto had appreciated his intervention because Rōshi had been…difficult, and having someone who seemed to actually like him – especially after having dealt with the villagers' dislike – was nice.

But then Rōshi's attitude had decreased from a rolling boil to a low simmer, and the youngest Jinchūriki had gotten used to his training, and the brunet's need to provide a buffer had faded. Now though, there were new people – new Jinchūriki! he thought excitedly – and the whole process was starting anew, except this time, Naruto knew what to expect.

Or, well…mostly. Han had just said he wasn't Rōshi, and he supposed it wasn't fair to compare the two, even if their training and attitudes so far seemed pretty much the same. Either way, after months of training day in and day out, slowly growing stronger and being able to see the results, he was glad for every opportunity to learn something new, to keep pushing himself.

How else was he going to become the strongest Hokage?

Which made it so weird that Utakata was back to being defensive. It had been his idea to train the blond in the first place, so it stood to reason that anything that could be done to make him stronger was a good thing. And Naruto had already proven he could take whatever the older Jinchūriki could dish out, so the brunet's hesitation felt misplaced.

Maybe it had something to do with his friend, Yagura? It wouldn't have been the first time the Kiri-nin had been cagey about something because of his past, and bringing up the absent Mizukage was a surefire way to throw the bubble-user off his game, though Naruto didn't fully understand why.

Yagura was special, that much he knew. To be both a Jinchūriki and a Kage? That alone made him an inspiration to the blond, and they'd never even met. But to know that there was someone else like him – burdened by something beyond his control – who had risen through the ranks to become the leader of his village, a figure revered by those he protected, and someone Utakata looked up to, was all he needed to know.

He'd always admired the Fourth Hokage, but knowing the man was gone and being unable to meet his hero was discouraging. That was even more true now with the knowledge that the man was his father.

But he had a chance to actually meet Yagura and learn how he'd become such a great Kage, and to do that, he was willing to do whatever it took.

Of course, when that would happen was anyone's guess, since whatever danger Yagura was in still existed. That was probably why Utakata always seemed so jumpy, he reasoned.

Blue eyes wide with wonder watched the brunet. Who can threaten a Kage, though? Neither Utakata nor Rōshi were very forthcoming with any details, and they'd kept him too busy to think of asking. Maybe a Bijū? he mused, thinking of his father, or even his own fight against Gaara.

"Quit daydreaming."

Naruto looked up, his neck craning uncomfortably far back to meet Han's hard eyes. "I was just thinkin'."

"Which apparently requires significant effort." Naruto scowled in response, biting his tongue to stop a verbal retort. Rōshi liked to jab him with little insults as well, and Naruto had learned (although not always remembered) that not reacting deprived the redhead of the enjoyment he got from riling him up. Han apparently didn't care, for he continued with a gesture at Utakata, "Attack him like he's an enemy, and we'll go from there."

The blond hesitated for a moment, but Utakata bobbed his head once, lips quirked as if to say it was okay, and so he charged forward—

"Hrk!"

His back hit the ground, hard. Something had grabbed the scruff of his collar mid-step and yanked, momentarily choking off his airway and laying him supine. Han appeared in his vision immediately, shaking his head. "Do you always do exactly what you're told, without ever questioning it?"

"No!"

"And yet you were going to charge into a fight against a clearly superior opponent with no plan."

"You told me to!" Han arched an eyebrow, and Naruto realized the contradiction with his previous question. "Oh…" He rose to his feet, one hand rubbing at his throat where his jacket had choked him. "So what am I supposed to do?"

"I said to attack him like he's an enemy. If possible, before you run headlong into a battle, you analyze your opponent to the best of your ability. He is older, bigger, and stronger than you," Han listed, "which means that you are automatically disadvantaged in a physical battle. And that's without knowing that he can cover his skin with acid." The giant turned to Utakata. "Your abilities are similar to Rōshi's, I don't see why you don't just have him train you."

Utakata coughed, admitting almost sheepishly, "I tried. He's very…resistant…to helping others."

Han snorted, sounding wryly amused. "Yes, I'm aware. Some things never change."

"Rōshi-oji trained me," Naruto pointed out, mildly offended by the sleight to his teacher.

"Unless or until you wield Yōton like he does, what he taught you is inefficient. The reason it works for Rōshi is because a touch is debilitating. Same for your friend over there," he added with a jerk of his head towards Utakata. "Perhaps he taught you how to fight, but this is taijutsu, which involves analyzing your situation and countering or attacking as appropriate. You are small and inexperienced; charging blindly into battle is stupid."

"I'm not—!" he began, heated refusal in every syllable, but something in the giant's description gave him pause. A memory struck him, a younger version of himself running at Uchiha Sasuke while their classmates and teacher watched, a fist raised to telegraph his assault, and in the next moment, him flat on his back on the ground, the wind knocked out of his lungs. If it had been once or twice, he might have brushed it off, but now that he thought about it, every spar against Sasuke had ended similarly.

And it wasn't just Sasuke. Aburame Shino, Inuzuka Kiba, Mochizuki Minoji…he'd never really beaten any of them in the Academy spars, and his approach had always been the same: attack, attack, attack, never think.

He nodded slowly, more to himself than to the Iwa-nin, but then locked eyes with the armored shinobi. "Yeah, I think I get it."

It didn't hurt as much as it used to in the beginning, to admit he didn't know everything, that his new teachers actually had something worthwhile to impart to him. He'd always said he was the greatest, would be the best Hokage, and carrying that boast around gave him a sort of intrinsic self-worth that he didn't actually need anything the Academy taught him. And Iruka's focus on book-learning certainly hadn't helped in trying to impart a wisdom Naruto had already been reluctant to learn.

So it made sense that, as Rōshi and Utakata had focused their attention on him, sometimes using him as a (painful) example in their lessons, he'd taken that knowledge with the bittersweet realization that he was not nearly as good as he thought himself.

But he was getting better. That was enough to temper the boasts that burned in his mouth, the falsehoods of his own greatness, globules of lava he wanted to spit out but was forced to swallow instead and accept that maybe, just maybe, he wasn't as great as he thought himself, though he one day would be.

Han grunted. "Good." He turned to look at Utakata, and with a jerk of his head toward the blond, said, "You, attack him. You'll defend and seek an opening to counterattack," he told Naruto. "Begin when ready."

Utakata charged and Naruto waited, looking for the movement that would bely the brunet's first strike.

"So how's yer trainin' goin'?"

"Good!" Naruto's voice was high with cheer, and Rōshi quickly quashed the scowl of envy that any Jinchūriki could ever be so happy. "Han-san says I'm learning." He made a movement the redhead's periphery vaguely attributed to the Gobi Jinchūriki's fighting style.

"So I see," the Iwa-nin replied with droll enthusiasm, attention focused on his clasped hands, molten magma encasing them.

"Rōshi-oji," Naruto whined. The Iwa-nin could picture the pout that adorned the Leaf native's lips. "You're not even watching!"

"When yer as good as me, yeh don' need ter stare ter see things." The heat shrouding his hands flared suddenly, prompting Rōshi to curse aloud.

"Whatcha doin'?"

"Enjoyin' th' time ter myself," he grumbled. He opened his hands and found a misshapen lump of dark rock. "Ahh, can't believe I let yeh distract me."

"From what?"

"I gave yer frien—th' Ichibi Jinchūriki somethin' o' mine. Easy enough ter replace with th' right materials an' focus." He shot the blond an annoyed look, though it lacked any real heat.

Naruto nodded in understanding, though he couldn't say he really understood at all. "Do you wanna train?"

One red eyebrow arched skeptically. "An' what d'yeh think yeh can teach me, eh?"

"Not to be so grumpy all the time," he replied cheekily. Rōshi looked vaguely amused in the kind of sour way Naruto had grown used to, and the blond bit back his boast that the redhead could learn from the greatest Hokage that ever would be. It was best not to push the Four-Tails' jailor too far. "I mean can you train me in Yōton? You know, since I can do it now."

Rōshi barked a laugh. "Yeh did it once—"

"Twice!" Naruto protested.

"—an' yeh think that makes yeh an expert?"

"No, but that's what you're for, right?"

"An' Han's jus' lettin' yeh ditch 'im?"

Naruto scratched the side of his head with a finger, visibly embarrassed. "Heheh, well, he kinda…got tired of us? Said he needed a break from Gaara, Utakata-nii, and me after bein' stuck with us for a week. Then he kinda…stormed off?"

"Sounds 'bout right," Rōshi muttered. "Aye, fine, if yeh want somethin' ter do, I s'pose we can train. So, what d'yeh remember 'bout when yeh used Yōton?"

"Um, I dunno. I was kinda mad…and out of ideas. It was the only thing I could think of that might work."

"Aye, yeh can do a lot when yer desperate. Yeh can't rely on that though. Yeh got ter learn how ter use it 'til it's like breathin'. Use it."

"You mean now?"

"Aye, now."

Naruto's face scrunched together in a facsimile of pain, trying to summon a flicker of anger alongside the stubbornness that was the hallmark of Earth Release. It was hard, he decided, to try to be angry when there was no reason for it—

"What're yeh doin'?"

The blond opened one eye to peer at Rōshi. "Tryin' to get mad."

"None o' that," the redhead retorted, tone sharp as a kunai. "Yeh know how ter use Katon, aye?" Naruto gave a quick nod, and he continued, "An' yeh can use Doton, aye?"

"Aye," Naruto repeated, and then realized he sounded uncomfortably like the older Jinchūriki and said, "I mean, right!"

"Then yeh don' need any o' that emotion crap. Since chakra's physical an' mental energy, we got yer mental energy – yer emotions – ter guide th' chakra nature ter start yeh off. Now that yeh've done it, yeh should be able ter use 'em any time."

"Oh, you mean like how Han-san talks about muscle memory?"

"Aye, somethin' like that." He kneeled, placing a palm on the ground, and felt the roiling magma of the mantle beneath him. Its blazing heat and glacial glide of the crust above were like old friends, the only friends he'd ever known, and something deep within him felt at peace at their reunion.

With a bit of earth manipulation, he summoned a chunk of sedimentary rock from the depths and into his palm. He held out his hand, gesturing for Naruto to take the rock, and the blond reached out, recoiling when the dissipating heat proved too intense. "If yeh can use Yōton, yeh got nothin' ter fear."

Naruto steeled his resolve, reaching out and grabbing the proffered chunk with no hesitation. Warmth suffused his hand, but it was a gentle heat. Shouldn't it be hotter? he wondered.

"Feels good, aye?" Naruto nodded, and the redhead continued, "Cover it with yer hands." He brought his own hands together, cupped so there was a pocket of space between them. Naruto copied the gesture, his cupped hands held before him, the rock hidden from view. "If yeh can turn that ter a gem, yeh can use Yōton."

"How do I do that?"

"Heat an' pressure. Katon an' Doton." Naruto nodded again, blue eyes fixated on his hands, staring with such intensity that he half-expected his appendages to spontaneously combust. "An' time," Rōshi added dryly, sounding bemused.

"What doesn't?" the blond muttered, annoyed, thinking of how the Rasengan seemed to be permanently out of reach.

Rōshi clapped him on the shoulder in a rare gesture of camaraderie. "Yeh'll git it. Yer too stubborn not ter."

Naruto grinned at the compliment. "Thanks Rōshi-oji."

Naruto blocked Utakata's horizontal chop, pushing the limb to the side and then striking out with a kick to the teenager's solar plexus. The brunet hopped backwards, avoiding the shorter boy's reach, and then dashed forward to take advantage of the blond's extension.

The younger Jinchūriki had already reset himself to a defensive stance, and he sidestepped the Kiri-nin's charge, laying a foot out to trip him. Utakata stumbled, but rolled with the motion, springing up several feet away before the blond could capitalize on the moment. He bobbed his head in acknowledgement of the move, and Naruto allowed a grin to split his lips.

"Good maneuver."

Han's deep voice was measured, even curt, but Naruto had gotten used to his observational nonchalance over the past several weeks, and he turned his bright smile to the giant. "Yeah, I'm doin' pretty good, huh, Han-san?"

The armored shinobi merely stared, brown eyes piercing, and Naruto didn't let the lack of assurance bother him; Rōshi had been much the same at first, and the taller Iwa-nin was still new to the group, so the blond figured he got a pass. "If you think so, then I suppose we should make this more difficult. You may now use ninjutsu."

"Uhh…" Naruto turned to look at Utakata, who now appeared to be a little too pleased at having this restriction lifted.

"Suiton: Teppōdama!"

Naruto leaped away from the incoming water ball, resorting to evasive tactics Han had begun drilling into him to dodge the barrage of liquid projectiles Utakata sent his way. His fingers flipped through seals before he skidded to a halt and slapped his palms to the ground with a cry of, "Doton: Doroku Gaeshi!"

The earthen wall that flipped up took the brunt of an incoming Gunshot technique, allowing him a moment to plan his next move. His defense crumbled under the force of a hail of water, but he'd already activated the Substitution Technique, reappearing in a crouch several feet behind the older Jinchūriki where a rock had been. He ran at Utakata, looking to get close and knock him out with a hard blow to the back of the head.

He struck a barrier three feet behind the brunet, struggling against something unseeable and elastic. "Huh?"

Utakata's neck craned just enough for the blond to see the edge of an over-the-shoulder grin, and then the bubble surrounding the teenager popped. Naruto was blown backwards by the force, though he quickly righted himself to a more favorable midair position. Han liked to say that midair was a terrible place to be without either power (like his own steam-enhanced taijutsu offered) or surprise, and Naruto had neither, as his teacher had demonstrated again and again and again…

A tendril of water wrapped around his ankle, and Naruto could see it stretching back to Utakata's hand. The brunet's arm jerked, and the blond's body followed the movement, the Water Whip bringing him closer to its wielder. He focused chakra to his hands, resisting the urge to close his eyes in concentration – "Don't lose sight of your enemy in a fight!" Han criticized in his mind – and a red aura overcame the appendages.

A single touch evaporated a section of the whip, freeing Naruto, and he condensed the aura surrounding his hands into small fireballs that he pitched at the Kiri-nin. It wasn't yet Lava Release – he was still struggling with how to utilize both Doton and Katon at once, and it annoyed him that he couldn't tap into the chakra muscle memory of the two previous instances ("State o' mind," Rōshi had grunted when asked, after several days of struggling with the molten rock exercise) – but what he'd figured out so far was at least still useful.

Utakata swung the Water Whip overhead, intercepting the incoming fireballs, and Naruto took the brunet's distraction as an opportunity to weave signs and expel a Great Fireball at him. The Kiri-nin noticed the incoming attack and immediately backpedaled to get out of its trajectory.

Sand rose up in the path, and the fire ninjutsu dissipated harmlessly against it. Blue and golden eyes turned to find Gaara standing beside Han, arm extended towards them. The redhead appeared to stare at his outstretched limb in silent appraisal, fingers flexing experimentally and the sand mass undulating in response. "If you wished to fight, you would have been better doing something offensive while they were unaware," Han observed, deep voice dispassionate.

"I wish to understand what I am capable of in all capacities," Gaara intoned. Teal eyes flickered towards Naruto, and for a moment, the blond was reminded of the weight the Suna-nin's heavy gaze carried – the thrill of the fight, the madness of a senseless purpose, the promise of death.

But none of that seemed apparent now; in fact, his stare seemed almost…docile, at least compared to how he'd used to look. There was a silent scrutiny in his teal gaze, as if he was analyzing the blond by some internal metric Naruto was clueless to.

And then the spell was broken, and Gaara's hand angled towards the blond, the sand following his command. "Hey!" Naruto shouted, focus on avoiding the silica, "shouldn't this be illegal or somethin'? Two on one's not fair!"

"Life isn't fair," Han retorted, "and real shinobi do not obey codes of ethics in battle."

"You suck!" Water worked last time, he thought quickly. Another round of hand signs, chakra building in his gut, and then— "Suiton: Mizurappa!"

The Wild Water Wave drenched the pursuing silica, and Naruto activated a Body Flicker to appear behind Gaara before either he or Utakata could react. Gaara wasn't good with taijutsu, so knocking him out should return the spar to one-on-one—

Gaara's arms crossed in an 'X' behind his head, thick bracers of sand protecting his head and neck from the blond's attempted chop. Naruto boggled at the move, a show of dexterity the Suna-nin's historical body language had not suggested him capable of. "Eh?!"

The Sand Genin mule-kicked him in the knee, eliciting a yelp from the blond, who immediately grasped the injured joint. Arms free, Gaara turned on the spot and drove a fist covered in sand – coarse grains shaped into sharp points on his knuckles – towards the Kyūbi Jinchūriki's cheek. Naruto barely managed to turn away from the blow, allowing his left shoulder to soak the punch and rolling away from the redhead.

A blast of water struck him mid-roll, pushing him into an uncontrolled tumble over the ground. When he finally managed to slow his momentum, his knee was throbbing and his vision was spinning. I guess Han-san really taught Gaara taijutsu… Blue eyes flickered over to Utakata. And Utakata-nii is still stronger than me…

He wouldn't win like this. Han liked to talk about turning situations to one's advantage, which was part of why he taught proactive reacting rather than blindly acting when working from a handicap, and Naruto was certainly there right now. He needed to disadvantage the other two Jinchūriki somehow.

His fingers worked through seals, the move still a fairly new addition to his repertoire. "Kirigakure no Jutsu," he muttered, a thick mist suffusing outward from him. Utakata's agape mouth disappeared from view, as did Gaara's penetrating stare, although a stream of sand still shot towards the blond through the enshrouding haze. Naruto erected a small wall with the Earth Shore Return to block the incoming silica, then crawled to his feet and silently snuck away from where his opponents had last seen him, thinking of his next move.

It wasn't steam, but the Hiding in Mist Technique was the closest thing to Futton that Han was willing to teach him. If Naruto could learn to fight in low-visibility conditions, Han had lectured in one of many one-on-one training sessions, he could leverage that to his advantage in most fights, which would make up for his limited physicality and lesser taijutsu.

He couldn't chakra-sense through the vapor (yet!) – although he'd at least become adequate at increasing his visual acuity while within the jutsu – but his penchant for escaping the consequences of pranking Konoha's villagers meant that he'd been able to adapt well to attacking stealthily, which the technique supported. Gaara had been nearest, and since the Suna-nin's normal strategy involved staying still, the blond decided it would be easiest to target him first.

Naruto stalked silently to where the Sand shinobi had last been standing, the mists swirling gently around him. The boy's stationary form finally appeared as a shadowy figure, and the blond continued prowling towards the Genin, eyes and ears perked for any sign of attack from either him or Utakata.

Something tiny and rough hit his skin when he was three feet away, a tiny pinprick that was more annoying than hurtful, and then an arm of sand shot out in his direction. Naruto dove to the side, somersaulted to his feet, and backed away from the redhead, wary.

A whisper of wind next to his ear drew his attention, and the blond's attention turned momentarily to suss out the distraction. The mists swirled marginally with the next whisper, and Naruto grinned to himself as realization struck him – tiny sand particulates were rotating around Gaara, the redhead the eye of a localized dust devil, alerting him to any intrusion of his personal space. That was fine; if nothing else, Naruto knew how to create a distraction.

Two water clones – featureless but for their humanoid shape – formed from the surrounding vapor and snuck off through the haze. Naruto waited until the whoosh of sand attacking one of his duplicates reached his ears before rushing forward. He met no resistance, a hand dipping into his weapons' pouch as blood-red hair became visible. The Leaf native slammed the handle of his kunai into Gaara's skull, eliciting a grunt from the Suna-nin as he pitched forward.

The redhead taken care of, Naruto crept through the mist, looking for a hint of Utakata.

Pop.

Naruto froze at the innocuous sound, throwing himself to the ground as a tendril of water whipped towards him. He breathed a silent sigh of relief as it passed overhead, suddenly wary of where he could move with the Kiri-nin's bubbles spread invisibly throughout the mist, when moisture began to soak into his clothes and wet his palms. Huh?

The liquid rose quickly to smother him in a sphere of water before he could react, and Utakata stepped out of the mist with fingers holding the sign of the dog. "I think that's game," he said, smiling good-naturedly. Naruto frowned – more annoyed at his own misstep than the brunet's victory – and the chakra holding the mists together dissipated, taking the Hiding in Mist Technique with it. "Don't feel bad, Naruto. I'm a Jōnin, and I have some experience with fighting in the mist; you can't expect that you'll win every battle at this point. You're fighting really well, much better than when we started, wouldn't you say, Han?" he asked, turning to the approaching Iwa-nin.

The steam-user's gaze flickered between the pair of Jinchūriki, taking in the brunet's pointed look and Naruto's hopeful expression. "You're still learning," he grunted flatly.

Naruto beamed, internally translating Han's words to the same gruff, noncommittal praise Rōshi often uttered. "Hell yeah!"

"There's still more to do," Han continued. "You, too, boy," he called to Gaara, who'd risen to his feet. "Let's see what you two can do without interference."

"There's a problem that's just come to my attention which requires immediate action." Tsunade laced her fingers together and placed them under her nose, elbows resting on her desk. "Uchiha Sasuke has left the village. He's likely being assisted by a retinue of shinobi handpicked by Orochimaru."

"That's… Why?"

"I've learned not to question Orochimaru's machinations. It's a safe bet to assume that, whatever the reason, it's to his interest, and therefore against Konoha's. Ultimately, it's irrelevant to the mission goal."

The dark-haired boy before her, barely a teenager, stared at the blonde with narrowed brown eyes. "I'm assuming you want Sasuke returned to the village. Given Orochimaru's reputation, it would be best to assemble a four-man squad of high-ranked Chūnin and/or Jōnin—"

"That's not going to happen. Unfortunately, we still don't have the resources to spare."

"Then, with all due respect, Hokage-sama, why am I here?"

"I heard about your performance in the Chūnin Exams. And what you did afterwards, during the invasion. There aren't many people who would make the decisions you made." Nara Shikamaru remained silent, aware that the Sannin hadn't finished her thought. "I need you to gather as many Genin as you can and return Sasuke to the village. I'm asking you to do this because I believe you're the only one who can see this mission through to a successful conclusion."

There was a moment of hesitation, the Chūnin seeming to weigh what he'd been asked, and then he nodded. "Yes Hokage-sama."

"You leave immediately. And if you're looking for recruits"—she picked up a piece of paper laying on her desk and handed it to him—"I have a recommendation."

Brown eyes scanned the single sheaf. "Hokage-sama, according to this, he's not even a Genin."

"You're technically correct. But as you can see, his skills make him more than capable." Shikamaru's brow furrowed, though Tsunade didn't know the boy well enough to determine if it was annoyance, skepticism, or if he was just thinking. "You can find him at the main Senju compound on the east side of town."

Shikamaru sketched a bow to the blonde. "If you say so, Hokage-sama."

He turned and began to amble towards the door, stopping only at the call of his name. "I've seen my fair share of shinobi sacrificing themselves for the sake of the mission, just like you did. Come back with the shinobi you left with, and that's a success in my books. I've already buried more than enough kids to last a lifetime."

Shikamaru inclined his head in acknowledgment and left.

Chapter Text

The cavern's silence was broken only by the pained moans and groans of an emerald-haired woman lying on a flat rock. Flaming sconces illuminated a man with short, white-blond hair standing beside her, his two hands cradling her left, his sharp features wrestling between concern and stoicism with every flicker of the dancing firelight. Grey eyes flitted over to a second woman who was standing at the rock's foot and murmuring to the supine woman to keep pushing.

Her cries increased in volume until they were finally joined by another, this one high-pitched and continuous, a long wail interspersed only by short hitches to breathe. One dark-skinned hand reached out to comfort her child, but a man with the wrinkles of late middle age swooped in and grabbed the babe from the midwife's arms. His hand came up to cradle the thin layer of mint green fuzz on the newborn's head, though the gesture was void of comfort or care. "Takigakure thanks you for your contribution," he said to the new parents in a flat, stately voice. The father's expression was pinched, tight, every effort going into not reacting; he gave one stiff nod, the firelight glinting off the polished metal of his forehead protector, a sigil of his subservience.

Newborn in his arms, the older male walked into an adjoining cavern, the mother's cries fading with distance while the baby's became more pronounced. Six others watched him approach from their positions around a large stone pedestal, where an elaborate urn decorated with even more intricate seals sat. He placed the newborn in a rocky bassinet one of his companions created with a few hand signs, then stepped into the open spot left for him to complete the circle. "Is everybody ready?" He received a chorus of agreements before turning to the woman next to him and giving her a nod. "Then begin."

She gave a return nod, long, vibrant red hair and unlined facial features belying her true age. Her hands moved carefully through a long string of seals, her associates copying every movement. "Hakke no Fūin Shiki!"

Chakra burst from the urn and formed into the specter of a massive, multi-winged insect. It loomed over the bassinet for a brief second before spiraling into the newborn in a hurricane of bright, golden-orange power. Then it was gone, and all that remained were the seven Elders and a wailing baby.

It was the middle of the morning, the sun was high and bright, the sky was blue, and Fū was still unhappy.

She'd been in Konoha for weeks, lured by Utakata's promise of being accepted by the Hidden Leaf and the people like them, but everyone that surrounded them seemed to have the same sort of prejudice that the citizens of the Hidden Waterfall had held, seeing her as a…a Jinchūriki rather than as her, an individual. Upset at the apparent deception, she'd been avoiding Utakata's repeated attempts to talk to her – a fairly simple feat for someone with her chakra-sensing capability – and remained in the village to…

Well, she didn't really know. Going back to Taki didn't seem like a real choice, and really, deep inside, she kept hoping that maybe, just maybe, Utakata's words held the truth she wanted them to. After all, his chakra when she'd interrogated him hadn't reflected any deception, so at the very least, the Kiri-nin seemed to believe what he'd told her.

But it was hard for her to believe him when all evidence pointed to the contrary.

Of the other…Jinchūriki…the older redhead's chakra was a mass of boiling, simmering energy. Even with the distance she kept, the heat of his chakra was almost palpable to her senses, as if approaching him, being near his person, would burn her. If it was at all possible, the other Iwa-nin's chakra was even more volatile, a balloon one breath from bursting. Both felt like anger personified, and although one seemed distinctly more contained than the other, neither seemed likely candidates for friendship.

There was a red-haired boy her age, but he felt…desolate, a lone cactus adrift in a sea of sand. Even without having seen him in the Hokage's office, Fū knew that this was the Suna-nin she and Utakata had sought; everything about him felt as inhospitable as the desert, vast and empty. She couldn't understand his presence, because where the two Rock shinobi at least felt hot and full-bodied – alive – the Sand shinobi was cold straight through to his core (if he even had one; hollow like a bird's bones, she thought).

It was hard to even think of him as a person, and Fū felt guilty thinking it because she knew what it was like to be judged as something non-human.

But then there was the last boy. Naruto.

She'd studied him the most, his chakra a warm beacon on a cold night, a gentle breeze in the scorching heat of summer. It was fluid, mercurial, shifting with his moods – frustrated, cheery, confused – but there always remained an undercurrent of optimism. Joy. He was happy, genuinely so, nothing like the cheer Fū had to force herself to inject in her voice to feel like maybe today would be different from the last 13 years.

She wanted to meet him, to befriend him, this boy who felt like every good thing in the world, and yet she couldn't, because he was always around someone else, someone who felt so different from him that Fū couldn't fathom how he could stand to be around them for more than a few minutes. And in the precious few instances he was alone, it was because Utakata was too busy looking for her to devote his time to Naruto, and their game of cat-and-mouse prevented any potential interaction.

So she studied him from a distance, imagining what he was like in person and building him up to such a degree that she assumed he couldn't possibly be as great as she thought.

The sound of the door opening and closing drew her attention to the path below, where a man with sandy blond hair was leaving. Fū had noted his chakra a couple of times over the past month, in close proximity to the Suna-nin for an hour at a time; she'd never considered him anything remarkable, another cog in the machine that ran the Hidden Leaf who apparently had some business with the young redhead.

She watched him cross paths with a boy with dark hair held in a spiky, gravity-defying ponytail who was just entering the complex. They exchanged a few words, too far away for her to hear – not that she cared all that much – and then the older man gestured around the corner of the courtyard before they went their separate ways.

Orange eyes followed the new boy as he walked around towards where Naruto was busy exchanging blows with the armored Iwa-nin. His chakra felt…stagnant, like it was a great effort to utilize it, but there was nothing intrinsically negative about it that discouraged her in the same way the other Jinchūriki's did.

Naruto has other friends-ssu?

It was the first time she'd seen him interact with someone who wasn't another Jinchūriki or the white-haired man who'd been in the Hokage's office during their first meeting, and it gave her hope that there were others who were willing to be friends.

Not that she was supposed to go anywhere, but maybe if they came to the compound…

"Awesome! Let's go!"

The cheer in Naruto's voice was infectious, and Fū felt a genuine smile cross her lips for the first time in a while as it floated up to her rooftop perch. She wondered what it was that had gotten him so—

Naruto and the new boy left the complex at a brisk pace, their backs disappearing into the late-morning sun. Fū felt her opportunity to corner the blond without the presence of the other Jinchūriki slipping away. She hopped off the roof and followed their chakra signatures at a distance, keeping her own cloaked from any onlookers – ANBU, probably – prowling the area.

Their team grew one by one, adding chakra signatures that felt…comfortable, and wild, and rigid. They felt so different from Naruto, an amalgam of contradictory chakras, that she again questioned how he could bear to be around them.

Then again, since the blond spent days on end surrounded by the likes of Jinchūriki who felt darker and angrier than any member of the quintet he was now a part of, it seemed likely there was something she didn't understand.

This is my chance…

Their signatures sped off to the north, and Fū continued to follow them at a distance over the Hidden Leaf's great gates and into the surrounding forest. It was easy to keep a couple miles between them and focus on tracking Naruto's bright chakra, an easy lighthouse among his four teammates.

The distance from the village also made the cold, empty chakra following close behind her even more obvious. She stopped on a thick bough and called out, "Why're you following me?"

He stopped on the same branch, as if she'd invited him there, and stared at her with the same emptiness in his pupil-less teal eyes she could feel in his chakra. There was a healthy 10 feet of space between them, though in the middle of their isolation, it felt like hundreds. "I do not trust you."

"I don't trust you," Fū shot back. "You or the rest-ssu! You're all the same! You just feel angry and sad and alone, and you're just okay with that when Utakata told me things would be different!" It seemed like a strange place to vent the feelings she'd been keeping pent up for weeks, but the accusation that she was untrustworthy when the other Jinchūriki felt like great masses of negativity was a slight she apparently could not stand.

"Sad…" he repeated slowly, testing the word, "…alone…" He nodded, head moving up and down like a tilted metronome, keeping time with something only he could hear. "That makes sense."

"Why should it?!" She was shouting now, tears brimming at the corners of her eyes. "We're people, too-ssu! We deserve to be around others and be talked to and loved and not be alone!"

The Suna-nin was silent in the face of her short tirade, and Fū used the back of her hand to wipe away her blurry vision. When she could see clearly again, the redhead was visibly trembling, hands clutching the sides of his head as if in pain. Mumbling fell from his lips, but it was too quiet for her to make out.

His chakra was rolling with emotion, more than she'd ever felt from him, more than she would've thought him capable of, a mixture of self-loathing, fear, pain…some trauma buried deep within. Fū hesitated before reaching out to him, guilt and concern in the gesture. "Hey, are you okay?" He didn't respond, and the Taki-nin stepped closer, carefully, watching for fluctuations in his chakra with her senses. When she was next to him, an arm's length apart, her outstretched hand fell on his shoulder, the comfort of human touch one she'd never received but always desired.

Wild teal eyes snapped up to stare at her, shock clear despite the terror and madness. If she'd only been watching his face and not his chakra, she would have recoiled, but in the moment where he'd realized she was touching him, his chakra had flickered with a momentary serenity that she'd assumed he could never know. His shallow breaths slowly but steadily became long and deep, the insanity disappearing from his eyes until he was again calm. Empty. "You touched me."

"Yeah, you were kinda freaking out."

"You weren't…afraid," he stated. "Others…nobody touches me. Only Naruto has…" He frowned. "Why?"

Fū cocked her head to the side; this curious, if still distant, version of the redhead was new. Everything was new, she supposed, since she'd been studiously avoiding him and the rest of their associates. "You looked like you needed it."

"You helped me." There was a tinge of some unknown emotion in his voice; Fū wasn't sure she would have noticed it if it wasn't for the fact that his normal timbre was so flat. "Why are you out here?"

"I was following Naruto and his friends. I wanted to meet him, away from everyone else-ssu. They're so—"

There was a sudden spike of chakra in the distance, a presence so foul that it pushed all other thoughts from her mind. Whatever grievances she had reading the chakra of the other demon containers, they didn't carry the weight of evil that this one did. And beneath it, a capsizing ship in a tumultuous storm, was the scared chakra signature of someone else. "I think one of Naruto's friends is in trouble," she said instead.

The Suna-nin's head tilted. "How can you tell?"

"I can feel it."

The boy blinked. "You can…feel things?" He appeared contemplative, musing the apparently rhetorical question. Fū watched him, trying to understand what he was thinking; the emptiness of his chakra did not impress upon her that he was capable of such thought. Yet here he was, silent, calm…

Companionable.

"Take me there."

She blinked. "Eh? Naruto's not there, why would you want to—"

"Friends are important to Naruto. He cares." The boy frowned. "I do not fully understand, but…Naruto says we are friends. And he promises to help his friends. He does not like to see them hurt." He turned to stare at the Taki-nin, expression unreadable. "I am indebted to him. So I will help his friends."

"…Okay," Fū agreed unsurely, drawing out the word. She gestured in the direction of the overwhelming chakra, and they took off at a clipped pace. Orange eyes flickered toward her companion at irregular intervals, analyzing him.

He seemed different than she thought, given the feel of his chakra. Yes, his manner of speech was empty, stagnant with indifference at times, but he apparently could feel things, small moments of emotion spliced among the emptiness. And they were strong, too – loyalty, fear, even some semblance of morality.

It didn't mesh with what her senses told her, which was how she'd seen…well, everything. Her worldview was based on judging people from a distance because there'd never really been anyone willing to get close. People were how they felt, their chakra, the one thing that defined their essence so clearly she could read it like a book.

And now it felt like she had dyslexia, the world flipped on its axis, because this boy (at the very least) was different from what his chakra said.

She'd always assumed that finding friends would be easy because it would show in their chakra. They would be bright and engaging and happy, like Naruto. But no one ever felt that way…or at least, they never felt that way when she was nearby.

Am I wrong about him? About everyone?

Fū was drawn from her musing by a massive surge of chakra, and then a brown-haired boy wearing a green, short-sleeved top and a white scarf appeared seemingly from nowhere, his form rapidly growing until he dwarfed the Land of Fire's impressive treetops. She gaped in surprise, the boy's coarse voice shouting, "Chō Baika no Jutsu!"

They were so close to him and he was so large that it was clear as day when his small, dark eyes widened in shock, and a deeper, rough voice called out, "Shōgekishō!" Fū froze in her tracks, an even darker wave of chakra than the previous washing over her, its source far too close for comfort. Whatever technique the green-shirted boy was using ended, his form shrinking down and disappearing beyond their sight.

Her companion seemed undeterred by the foul chakra, his pace unhindered by its presence, and Fū forced herself to follow him into an area completely void of foliage. At its center laid the brown-haired boy, and standing over him was the epitome of a demon, the clear source of the energy that was sending shivers down her spine: mottled umber skin pebbled with sporadic warts, long orange hair with a strong widow's peak, pinpricks of gold peering out of pitch-black sclera… He raised an open palm and brought it down upon the supine boy—

A block of sand a foot thick interposed itself between the two combatants, silica spraying outwards as the sheer force of the blow demolished it. All eyes turned to the Suna-nin, whose hand was extended towards the fighting pair. "You will not harm him," the redhead intoned gravely.

"More scum come to save you?" The demonic-looking male turned his attention to the two Jinchūriki. "Maybe you'll be able to sate my hunger better than this useless fatass."

The Sand shinobi's fingers twitched, and the surrounded silica condensed into a multitude of shuriken that converged on their enemy. Umber arms came up to shield their bearer's face, a gruff scoff escaping him. "Is that all? Pathetic."

Orange eyes flitted over to catch her companion's small frown. Then the demonic male was rushing him, footsteps like thunder, and the gourd on the redhead's back disintegrated into individual particles. One open palm was thrust forward toward the smaller boy. "Hōshō!"

A compact shield of sand formed in front of the Suna-nin's face, exploding in every direction as the Crumbling Palm blew through it. The boy staggered backwards, and Fū used their enemy's distraction to rush toward Naruto's fallen friend. He looked too stocky for her to pick up, so she knelt at his side and met his wide-eyed stare. "Who're you?" he croaked.

"The name's Fū-ssu." The cheer in her introduction felt even more forced than usual, the clashing chakras behind her a palpable weight unbalancing her emotional equilibrium. She could see him tense, his left hand gripping a rectangular case with a red-colored sphere the size of a dango ball inside it, and realized that her answer gave very little context to someone who had just been on the verge of dying. "We're here to help."

"Who—"

"Can you move?" she interjected, pitch a little high. A quick glance in the direction of the fight showed the Suna-nin stiffly defending against a series of heavy blows the umber-skinned male was raining down on him, and every step seemed to bring them closer to her. Not good. The feel of the demonic shinobi's chakra was overwhelming in its intensity, and Fū found that the closer they got, the harder it was to keep her wits about her. The boy beside her nodded, though he grimaced while leveraging himself into a sitting position. She grabbed his arm to help, urging, "C'mon c'mon c'mon," when it felt like he wasn't moving nearly fast enough.

She slung his arm over her shoulders and turned around just as the Suna-nin slid to a halt in front of her, arms crossed in a block. Orange eyes locked onto the demonic form hulking before them, too-white teeth bared in a smirk. "Well, that was more of a morsel than the fatass, but now it's time to end this." He placed his hands on the ground and pulled up an oblong chunk of earth dozens of times longer than he was tall. "Doton: Doryō—"

One pale hand stretched outward. "Suna Hoko!"

A short, thin spear formed from sand buried itself in the demonic shinobi's throat, cutting off his ninjutsu in a spray of blood. The foul chakra immediately began to dissipate, umber skin fading to fleshtone, orange hair thinning to a short mohawk and small tufts above his ears.

It was likely the lack of overwhelming chakra, but it suddenly seemed like things were normal, their enemy a boring, awkward-looking human rather than some sort of hellish creature. His form disappeared beneath the crushing mass of whatever Earth Release technique he'd started to use, clouds of dust billowing towards the three Genin. The Konona-nin at her side let out a breathy 'whoa', and Fū found herself nodding in agreement.

The Sand shinobi turned towards them. His teal eyes retained their hollow gaze, and blood speckled his face; he seemed unperturbed by the mess, though Fū thought it made him appear even more like the sociopathic serial killer his chakra suggested he was. She waited for him to say something, but he appeared frozen in the moment, unmoving, as if trying to come to terms with what had happened.

When he finally moved, the motion was rigid, and it was simply to reach into his pocket and pull out a small gem, red as the blood on his face. It sat in the palm of his hand, and he stared at it for a long time, transfixed, as sand particles coalesced back into the shape of a gourd. When it had reformed, he blinked and met the gazes of the pair watching him. "Is there more?"

Fū blinked back. "Huh?"

The Leaf Genin at her side apparently understand what he was asking, for he said, "Three more. Oto-nin. They've got Sasuke."

"Uchiha Sasuke?" Her companion sounded almost curious. He appeared pensive when the brown-haired boy nodded in confirmation. "He is strong. Like Naruto." He turned to glance at the giant clod of earth that marked his opponent's grave. "They all are," he muttered, and then, in a more decisive monotone, "we must go."

Fū nodded, slipping out from under the chubby boy and shooting him an apologetic glance when he stumbled. After a moment of focus, she found another set of chakras to the north, taking off after them with the second demon container on her tail, leaving Naruto's friend spluttering behind them.

He seemed content to travel in silence, but Fū found herself more and more curious about the discrepancies between his chakra and his actions. "You did good against that guy."

"…Han's training…has been effective. I did not expect…" he trailed off, the thought lost to the wind whistling through their hair. "Naruto told me there would be those who could help me…help me become strong like him. I did not believe him, but…I was wrong. It is not the first time."

The Sand shinobi's dry monotone was a suitable distraction from another spike of evil chakra in the approaching distance. It seemed a fair assumption at this point that the three enemies Naruto and his friends were chasing all had a supply of malevolent chakra they could access. "What have you learned from Han?" she asked, even as she picked up her pace. That was probably the name of the armored giant whose chakra felt like it was barely contained, always on the verge of exploding; she'd felt their signatures in close proximity to each other countless times over the past several weeks.

"Taijutsu."

"Taijutsu?" Fū repeated when her companion did not elaborate. "But…that's like a cornerstone of being a shinobi-ssu! How'd you get here without knowing taijutsu?" The idea that someone who'd just defended them against a physical behemoth had to learn taijutsu was…baffling.

"Han says the same. It was not necessary before. Now, I accept whatever help I am given. Although," he mused, sounding strangely pensive, "I am…not proficient."

"But you held your own."

"Han says it is best to play to one's strength. The only strength I have ever known is my sand."

"So…" she said, the single syllable drawn out with her musing, "you learned to make weapons? Could you not do that before?"

"It had not occurred to me. Crushing…squeezing the life from others…that validated my existence."

Fū glanced backwards, studying him. The redhead's voice had broken out of its usual monotone and reflected a sort of…nostalgia, his chakra flickering uncomfortably, desire echoing in the void. He opened his hand again, staring at the gem within, and after several seconds the feeling in his chakra disappeared. "What is that?"

"A garnet," came the flat response. "Because of its coloring, it was named for the seeds of the pomegranate fruit. Shamans have historically used it to expunge toxins and purify the body, usually by increasing the ways chakra flows through the body. Some cultures believe that it is a natural remedy to heighten sensitivity, desire, and libido during sexual activity, and may deepen romantic connections."

"I…see." She almost regretted asking, the conversation now a little too awkward, but the silence felt even more uncomfortable, and so she continued, "And does it, uh, help you…with that?"

"I doubt any of that is true," the Suna-nin refuted without affectation. "It is a composite stone of alkaline earth and transition metals, silica, and oxygen, and has no mechanism of absorption into the human body with which to diffuse any sort of medicinal properties. People are fools. They believe in things which are demonstrably untrue."

"People want to hope?" Fū offered unsurely. She knew she'd hoped – often foolishly – all too frequently. "If you don't believe it, why do you know all that stuff?"

"The library has a great many books. One indicated that garnets have been considered protective talismans against negative energy. I can…" he paused, the silence filled with his careful thought, "understand, in some respects, how some might believe that. Rōshi gave me this one to center myself, and if I focus on it, it is…easier to think. When I told Inoichi that, he called it a talisman. It reminds me of my purpose…that I have value. …Perhaps I am also a fool."

Fū remained quiet at those admissions. Despite everything, she'd lived her life knowing what her purpose was. Takigakure's Elders had made it abundantly clear that her one job was to protect the village. Memorize the chakras of its citizens, monitor for any potential intruders, anyone with poor intentions, and intercept them. They didn't care about commending her for what she did, that she was unappreciated despite the drudgery of her assignment, slandered with the title 'Jinchūriki'; her duty, designated by those in charge, came first.

But to live each day having to reassure herself that her life meant something…even at her lowest, she'd never questioned why she was alive, merely why she was treated so poorly. She knew the effect, but not the cause…and the Suna-nin seemed to know the cause, but not the effect.

Except…she did know the cause, didn't she? Takigakure's Elders had told her she contained the Nanabi, even if they'd never explained what that meant. Utakata, for however upset she was with him now, had made it pretty clear that the people like them, the…Jinchūriki…were almost universally reviled across the lands, hated for something beyond their control. They kept the Bijū, entities of chakra given demonic form, at bay, yet were treated like the embodiment of their prisoners. Knowing that probably explained…a lot about why her red-haired companion was the way he was.

Orange eyes hardened at the realization. If people wanted to treat her like a demon, then she would oblige and hide no longer. After all, there was no way the chakra the Oto-nin were using could make them more demonic than being the host of the Seven-Tails.

She wouldn't be afraid any more.

The second wave of foul chakra that erupted nearby nearly shattered her new resolve, but she dulled her heightened sensory perception and instead flipped through seals as a break in the trees became apparent, chanting an internal mantra that she was scarier than they were. The whistle of a projectile traveling at high speed was drowned out by her shouting, "Fūton: Daitoppa!"

A great buffet of wind ripped through the surrounding trees in the direction she'd last sensed the evil chakra, leaves falling around the pair as they arrived in a small clearing littered with what appeared to be spiderwebs. Next to them was a boy with long dark hair that fell straight to mid-back, his short-sleeved beige shirt and fair skin riddled with dirt, blood, and cuts. He adopted a defensive posture at their presence, white eyes not all that different from her own wincing with the motion. She could just barely see the outline of a pupil dart to her side, focusing on her companion. "Sabaku no Gaara," he stated, timbre a stately baritone at odds with his current condition, "how unexpected."

Fū shot the redhead – Gaara, she told herself, committing his name to memory – a glance. "You know this guy?"

Gaara shook his head. "There are not many who capture my attention."

The dark-haired boy snorted. "I feel I should be insulted, but I admit that I'm more curious why you're here."

"So, two new players have joined the game, eh?" Three pairs of eyes turned in the direction of the low, echoey rasp, and Fū's widened with horror at the sight before her: a male shinobi with brown skin darker than her own, his six arms sporting curved spikes and black wristbands. Two more horns protruded from his forehead and further accented his inhuman features, including a third eye in the center of his forehead, giving him the appearance of an oni. Grey hair fanned out from the back of his head, messy, bushy, and a golden bow longer than he was tall was slung over one shoulder. "No matter." The white-eyed boy charged at the Oto-nin with an open palm, but the demonic-looking male merely brought his bow around to slap the strike away. "Hah! Gotta level up more before you think to take me on!"

"How 'bout me then?"

The Oto-nin's beady eyes shifted to Fū. A chill crept down her spine at the glance, and she fought the urge to look away. He spat out a series of small net-like projectiles that looked like they were made of the same webbing material that blanketed the ground, and Fū could sense the chakra of both boys beside her surge to retaliate.

She quickly inhaled and then exhaled, chakra-enhanced air sending the incoming webbing back in the direction it came. Her opponent dodged, jumping backwards into the surrounding trees with a cackle. "Not bad! Let's see how you do in round two!"

Fū tracked his movements with her senses, focusing on the fluctuations in his chakra rather than the inherently foul nature of it. The white-eyed boy pointed to her 8 o'clock and said, "He's—"

"I know," she interrupted with a calmness that surprised her. She unleashed another blast of wind in the direction he'd pointed, and leaves rained down around them.

She could feel his chakra ripple with a reflection of his annoyance at her interjection. As if to prove his worth, he added, "He has strong analytical abilities and likes to set traps that focus on overwhelming the opponent from all directions. He can also secrete a liquid metal from his pores which solidifies into a form of armor that can block chakra and resist physical attacks."

"Then I guess we don't give him that opportunity," Fū replied. She leaped in the direction she could feel the enemy's chakra, twisting in midair and using the Wind Release: Violent Wind Palm technique to repel the multitude of L-shaped golden projectiles that had been flung at her. When her rotational momentum ended, the green-haired girl expelled a strong, continuous stream of air from her mouth that blasted her even higher as a golden arrow whistled through the spot she'd just occupied. Another stream of wind pushed from her palms propelled her towards the oni-looking shinobi. Wind circled around her fist as she crashed through the branches with enough speed to see the Oto-nin's beady eyes widen in surprise. "Fūton: Senpūken!"

Dark hands grabbed her elbows, stopping the Whirlwind Fist a foot away from its target. The multi-armed shinobi let out an amused laugh. "A valiant effort by the new player, and yet completely futile!" He opened his mouth wide, a spike of gold forming within his maw. One free arm reached up to grab it. "And now it's game—"

"Fūton: Senpūashi!"

The Oto-nin's proclamation died with a rattling gasp as her foot met his stomach, the Whirlwind Foot sending blood and entrails rupturing out his back. Like the male Gaara had killed, the foul chakra and demonic appearance of the Sound shinobi disappeared with his death, leaving only the dark hair and eyes of a six-armed teenager. His grasp on her relaxed as the corpse fell backwards off the tree bough, her feet finding purchasing on his chest as gravity brought them down. The body hit the ground with a boneless thud, Fū hopping off and landing daintily in front of the two boys. She let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding, a sudden calm pervading her body. I did it…

"That was…impressive," allowed the white-eyed boy, his tone even despite the acknowledgment.

Fū nodded at him, a sudden shyness sticking her tongue to the roof of her mouth. It had been a long time since she'd gotten a compliment, even one as toneless as the boy's, but she'd never before had a problem speaking her mind.

Then again, maybe that was the old Fū, the Fū who had stayed in the Hidden Waterfall and made no friends despite every attempt to do so. But now…now she was Fū, the container of a Bijū – a…Jinchūriki… she admitted reluctantly, only to herself – and that person was still a stranger to her.

An identity crisis, she realized, or perhaps more of an identity acceptance, a person she'd always been but hadn't wanted to be.

Gaara's monotone broke through her reverie. "There are still more enemies."

"Right." It took only a moment to focus and locate the multiple chakra signatures heading north, and with a nod to the redhead, they took off again, leaving the white-eyed boy behind before he could offer any additional commentary. His chakra seemed to flicker uncertainly for a moment before departing to the south, back where they'd come from. Contemplative, she watched her companion as they traveled. Gaara seemed to have accepted who he was, what he was – his name even meant 'self-loving demon', which felt…a little on the nose – so perhaps he had some insight? "Hey, Gaara, what…um…" The question faltered in its escape, its very essence one of impropriety. What way was there to ask someone what it was like to be a demon?

"You are quite strong," the Suna-nin noted in the void she'd left. He seemed indifferent – or oblivious – to her internal struggle. "I think…after this, I would like to fight you."

"You would?" The idea that someone, especially someone her age, would want to interact with her in any context was almost foreign. Her teachers' chakras had all felt reticent, reluctant to be near her, though they'd done the duties assigned to them by Takigakure's Elders without complaint, making her a capable tool to be used for the village's benefit. The lack of a proper team, of the ability to be a child at a time when all she'd wanted was an ounce of companionship, had birthed her goal to make friends. At least one. Though that had gone nowhere…

"Mm. It would please—" and then he cut himself off with a rasping gurgle, one hand coming up to clutch the left side of his face. A hoarse 'no' escaped him, and Fū watched, concern written on her face, as the redhead fought to get his ragged breathing under control. When it evened out once more, he muttered a tired apology to the Taki-nin. "There is still work to be done," he murmured.

Fū swallowed, unnerved by how her companion's chakra had roiled with a tumult of negativity, but not scared like she would have expected. Perhaps she was growing used to the waffling emotions buried within the void of emptiness. "What work?"

"To be someone different. Better. It is…difficult to change all I have known."

"What are you trying to change?"

She glanced back to find teal eyes that seemed to stare through her. "Everything." When he seemed unwilling to elaborate, Fū allowed the thread to drop, disappointment flooding her veins; she was sure he had been a hair's breadth away from touching on the topic she couldn't bring up herself, but the distance in his gaze forestalled any questions she might have wanted to ask. "You are like me," he said suddenly, jolting the green-haired girl from her mood. "Like us. A demon," he clarified, as if the point hadn't been clear. Fū swallowed thickly, mouth dry and voice gone at the abrupt continuation, unable to even answer before the redhead continued, "But…no, you do not bear the same hatred."

"Hatred?" she echoed, pulling the snaggle of thread offered. She slowed down enough so that the redhead was only half a jump behind her.

"Hatred is…comforting, especially when you are alone. There is no purpose in solitude, unless you create one. With hatred, that purpose becomes a quest to seek out the strong and destroy them, because they are the only threat to your existence. Everything else is meaningless. The ideas you speak of…care…love…" he spoke the last word so quietly Fū could barely hear it, his attention fixated again on the palm of his hand, on his talisman, "they are foreign.

"Once," he continued, "I thought I understood. I was told that, even though my mother died during my birth, she loved me. But there was no proof. It is…intangible, a measure of belief. My father, the Kazekage…as a child, he spoiled me to placate the demon, but what meager affection that offered turned to fear, and then to hate. Others' hate caused me pain…pain which could not be seen or healed, and which grew into my own hatred. Others were not meant to exist alongside me because I was not meant to exist, and so I sought to end them." The redhead's voice had slowly become more pitched throughout his diatribe, and he paused after the last word, seeming to have come to the crescendo of his own fervor. Fū could feel his chakra whirling rapidly, but with several deep breaths, he seemed to calm himself back down. "Han and Rōshi…they are strong, and alone, like me, but…Inoichi says correlation is not always causation. I believe he means that being alone did not make them strong. Utakata and Naruto are also strong, and they fight on behalf of others, so there may be merit to that, but…" he frowned, "it is difficult to ascertain the truth."

"Don't you think we deserve love?" Her voice was quiet with hesitation; after that revelation, she felt like she understood Gaara, at least a little, and her question was a dagger poised to slit their détente. He had never really answered her when she'd asked at the beginning of their journey, but maybe he would now.

"…We have value," he said after several moments, "I am told, so it could be that we are deserving of something. What that is, I do not know. I…am not confident I can believe in something so nebulous."

"I've spent my whole life trying to find someone who'll see me for who I am," Fū shared, "and nothing ever came of it. My mother…" she swallowed around the sudden dryness in her mouth, the truth of her heritage an acrid taste, "she gave me up when I was born. When I was four, I found her. Her chakra felt like…home. I went up to her and she pretended I didn't exist-ssu." Emotion was constricting her voice, but she held back any other signs of emotional distress; she'd shed enough tears over her life in the Hidden Waterfall. "I didn't understand, so I just watched her after that. Sometimes she was alone, sometimes she was with my father. They seemed so happy…without me. And whenever they saw me, their chakra changed. Fear, anxiety…I was their daughter and they didn't want anything to do with me-ssu.

"So I was raised by shinobi who were indifferent to me at the best of times because the people who should've cared didn't. And it sucked. But the worst part was that no one cared about me, they only cared about what I could do. Utakata told me that there were people who would understand me, who would like me, but no one feels like they care. It's just like my parents." She glanced at the redhead. "Aren't you tired of being treated like we don't mean anything?"

Teal eyes stared at her. Gaara's gaze was weighty, carrying an intensity that made her feel like he'd absorbed everything she'd said because she deserved his attention. Finally, he intoned, "I am not sure I know how to be treated any differently."

The fragility of the Sand shinobi's admittance was broken by a sudden explosion up ahead. It sent their shared stories spinning into the surrounding trees like shards of glass, and Fū forced herself to concentrate on the multitude of nearby chakras. Two – no, three – were falling away, like they'd been thrown in a deep hole, and three others, including Naruto, were directly ahead, with a fourth quickly closing in from the north. "Keep going forward and you'll run into Naruto."

"Are you not coming?"

There was no change in his outward appearance or his chakra, but Fū almost thought he sounded…concerned. She shook her head. Because her purpose had always been to know how people felt, she'd always assumed that someone's chakra was representative of who they were as a person. But the Suna-nin was clearly more than he seemed, even if it was buried deep within, and she'd allowed her innate ability to poison her perspective. Now, after everything they'd shared, it seemed more and more obvious that she'd misjudged him, that they had more in common than she would have ever expected. "There's another one. The goal is to save Naruto's friends, right-ssu?"

"Mm."

"I'll find you after." She stopped suddenly on a branch, ready to change directions, and Gaara stopped beside her, expression blank but clearly curious. "Do you…after this is all over, do you want to be friends?" Her voice was small, but she forced herself to keep it steady and maintain eye contact.

"You…wish to be friends?" The redhead's surprise was reflected in the widening of his eyes and the slight hitch in his raspy voice. In his shoes, she thought she probably would have felt the same. "With me?"

"We deserve someone who cares," Fū asserted, "why not be each other's?"

Gaara nodded slowly, apparently finding the logic in her argument. "I…would like that. And when we return, you can meet Naruto. I think he will be…happy, to know you."

Fū smiled brightly, an emotion she hadn't felt since leaving the Hidden Waterfall filling her up. "Can't wait-ssu."

Gaara gave her another nod and then jumped out of sight, heading in the direction she'd given him. The Taki-nin watched him disappear and then headed east, following the path of the fallen chakra signatures and leaping out over the ravine that had swallowed them whole.

Chapter Text

He made his way back to the village, body one big ache. Rōshi never really bothered going easy, though he normally pulled his punches just enough so that Naruto wasn't seeing stars with every hit. Stupid old man, he groused internally. Utakata had let him leave early, his smile a little too understanding even as the blond protested he could keep going. That chafed, just a little, but with the way everything hurt, he understood (and even appreciated) the brunet's reasoning.

Blue eyes spied two boys and one girl his age being led back to the village proper by a dark-haired woman wearing an outfit of white wrappings that went down to mid-thigh. He raised an arm, resisted the urge to wince, and cheerily called out, "Hey, Kiba!"

The boy in front turned at the sound of his name, a small white dog perched on his head of brown hair. "Heh, if it ain't Naruto." He sauntered over, his two teammates following behind him. Naruto watched them approach, trying to remember their names; Kiba was one of the few people who had tolerated him at the Academy, and they had often gotten in trouble together, but the indigo-haired girl in the cream-colored jacket and the black-haired boy in his own concealing grey jacket had typically been quiet and unobtrusive. "What're you doin' out and about?"

He opened his mouth to respond but then remembered his activities were supposed to be a secret. There was no telling what Rōshi would do to him if he spilled the beans about their presence after only a week of meetings. "Uh, you know, just trainin'! The future Hokage's gotta remain in tip-top shape!" Kiba scoffed at the oft-repeated boast, and Naruto scowled at his dismissal. "You don't believe me? Let's go then, you and me!"

"The guy who couldn't even pass the Graduation Exam?" Kiba posed rhetorically, and his dog barked in agreement. "Tch, yeah right. C'mon Hinata, Shino, let's go. Us real shinobi have real training to do."

He turned his back to the blond and began to stalk away. The other boy, Shino, adjusted his dark glasses before following his teammate. Hinata, pointer fingers poking each other, stammered a quiet, "S-sorry, N-Naruto-kun," before taking her leave as well, rejoining their teacher where she'd remained behind.

A lead weight settled in the blond's stomach as he watched his former classmates walk away. Whatever Rōshi had done to him hurt far less than the pain of not being recognized by his peers, that he was somehow even more unworthy of their attention now that they'd graduated and left him behind. His fists clenched, fingernails digging into the soft skin of his palms. I will be a real shinobi, he swore to himself, believe it!

Naruto chased the pale, white-haired ninja carrying the cylindrical container big enough to hold Uchiha Sasuke, trying to stay focused on the task at hand and not let his thoughts wander to the fates of his teammates.

Shikamaru had told them from the beginning that even though their goal was to rescue Sasuke, there weren't supposed to be any unnecessary sacrifices, yet it felt like every enemy so far had resulted in one. Naruto didn't know anything about the Neji guy that had joined them – though he seemed to carry the same quiet, arrogant swagger that Sasuke had back at the Academy – but Chōji was not someone the blond would have picked to emerge victorious in a one-on-one fight, despite Shikamaru's endorsement. Neji's confidence at least made him seem skilled – more so than the rest of them anyway – but Naruto still didn't like that they'd essentially abandoned one of their comrades, including Kiba and Shikamaru now, at every fight. It felt a little too much like when Utakata and Rōshi had left him behind and he'd gotten caught in the Ichibi's grasp, a situation that had quickly spiraled out of control.

But he wasn't the leader and it wasn't his call to make; Shikamaru, the lazy bum, had somehow made Chūnin, and apparently knew something about these individuals that he didn't. So despite his protests to the contrary, they were all split up, and the mission – his first mission – seemed like it might fail on both objectives.

I won't let that happen!

He increased his pace to keep the Oto-nin's back within view, urging himself forward with a mantra of positivity. The forest thinned ahead, and with an opening in the trees, Naruto finally found the opportunity to go on the offensive, flipping through hand seals and allowing chakra to build in his chest. Katon: Gōkakyū no Jutsu!

The Great Fireball burst from his lips and forced the Sound shinobi to adjust his midair trajectory, shielding himself with the barrel he was carrying. Naruto's jump from the trees gave him the vantage point to see his opponent aim an arm at him, and only experience with sparring against Gaara had him pulling out a kunai to block the tiny projectiles sent his way. He hit the ground and glared at the older male. "Give Sasuke back!"

"…No," replied the Oto-nin. His voice was placid, unmoved by the blond's grit. It reminded him a little of how Neji spoke. "He belongs to Orochimaru-sama."

"He belongs in Konoha," the Jinchūriki retorted, "and it's my mission to bring him back!" He took a brief survey of the area as Han had taught him – flat plain with short grass, no cover, no water for Suiton manipulation – and then concentrated chakra into the surrounding earth. "Tsuchi Bunshin no Jutsu!"

Four Earth Clones crawled out of the dirt to encage the white-haired male in a circle. His green eyes scanned the doppelgangers, expression inert. "Hmm…very well." Rods of white material grew from his palms until they protruded out at least a foot.

For a long moment, the only movement was the rustle of grass as the wind whistled through it; now that he was in a real combat situation, the lessons Han had imparted about not attacking a (theoretically) superior opponent with unknown skills had never seemed wiser. This wasn't a combatant training him to be better; this was someone who would kill him without hesitation, and he needed to fight appropriately. Then the Oto-nin moved, blazing towards the clone at his two o'clock with arm drawn back to bisect it horizontally. It tried to defend, but the apparent blade sliced through it with no resistance, and Naruto directed the remaining duplicates to converge on the Sound shinobi's location with a thought, hoping to overwhelm him. Instead, the older boy spun on the spot and charged the one across from him, arms trailing behind him, just waiting to be brought to bear. The Oto-nin's target blocked the low-to-high slash by grabbing his left wrist, but he merely took the opportunity to stab the clone through the stomach with his other arm. A swift movement brought the weapon out the duplicate's side, and it lost cohesion, collapsing into dirt. "Yanagi no Mai," he muttered, and white spikes erupted across his body to skewer the encroaching clones.

They looked like… Bones? Naruto wondered. Was it possible this Sound shinobi could somehow grow and manipulate his bones to use as weapons? It sounded insane, but he'd seen Rōshi hold lava that could melt flesh, Utakata dissolve rocks and trees with bubbles, a reanimated corpse attack with all the skills of a live shinobi, so it didn't seem beyond the realm of possibility, though he had a hard time imagining it even with the evidence before him.

"You stand no chance against me," intoned the bone-user. "I have mastered the five dances of my kekkei genkai, and you have no discernible skills to counter them."

"Shut up!" Naruto snapped. Who was this asshole to judge him? It reminded him of past interactions with Sasuke, Kiba, even Rōshi; they saw only a fraction of what he could do and then dismissed him because he wasn't at their level. But he was better than that, and just like he'd shown Rōshi, he'd prove to this bastard that Uzumaki Naruto was not to be underestimated! Chakra flaring with his anger, the blond summoned a dozen Earth Clones to charge his opponent, joining a half-step behind to take advantage of the chaos.

His Dance of the Willow still active, the Oto-nin countered the attacking duplicates with impressive grace, bones as sharp as blades slashing through dirt bodies with little resistance. The bone-user's movements reminded Naruto of Utakata – effortless, sweeping gestures that gave the appearance of a sapling swaying in a breeze. The Sound shinobi's garb only cemented the image, a loose, flowing robe that appeared far too big for its wearer. Naruto fixed the image of the Mist Jinchūriki over that of the white-haired male, blue eyes tracking his moves while he thought about ways Utakata had been successfully incapacitated in the past. Nothing immediately came to mind – the teenaged Jinchūriki tended to remain relatively unflappable when Naruto was his opponent, though Rōshi had done it easily enough in the past with persistent pressure – and the remaining clones dogpiled the Sound shinobi in unison, hoping to overwhelm him with sheer numbers. The bones protruding through his skin grew even longer, ripping effortlessly through the duplicates, but instead of breaking into clumps of dirt, they slumped into mud, bogging the bone-user in earthen sludge. Naruto rushed forward while his enemy was mired in muck and slammed an elbow into the older male's jaw.

The Oto-nin didn't even flinch, and a spike burst through the muck to impale the blond through the stomach. Naruto gaped in shock, then collapsed into mud himself. The ground at the Sound shinobi's back broke as the Jinchūriki emerged from it; his knee hit the muddy mass from behind and sent the bone-user face-first into the grass. Flames engulfed the boy's hands as he brought them to either side of the downed shinobi's head. "Katon: Engeki!"

Fire roared between his open palms, igniting the Oto-nin's head. Naruto kept the Flame Attack active until two feet wrapped around his chest and threw him clear of the muddy mass. He landed in time to watch the bone-user rise, shaking mud from his form and straightening with a series of sickening cracks, bones snapping into place from however they'd been oriented. The white mask of a human skull, blackened and burnt, fell off his face. "You have greater talent than I expected," he noted. Naruto might have considered it a compliment if someone he trusted had said it; as it was, it just sounded ominous. "Though your efforts matter not. Orochimaru-sama's ambition is nigh."

Naruto's question was interrupted by an explosion behind him. He whirled on the spot, a human…ish shadow becoming apparent in the smoke. As the haze thinned, the blond could make out brownish-grey skin and a mane of spiky, purplish-indigo hair, both of which receded to reveal pale flesh and bluish-black locks. It had been months, but Naruto still recognized the boy's profile, the red and white fan of the Uchiha clan emblazoned on a blue shirt. The boy's name was on the tip of his tongue, but a maniacal laugh, almost a cackle, split the air and shook his former classmate's shoulders. He paused, startled by the display of emotion; even at the best of times, Sasuke had never been openly emotional, and up until this moment, Naruto wasn't sure he'd ever heard the dark-haired boy even chuckle.

Then Sasuke jumped towards the nearby tree line, and Naruto saw his mission's success flash before his eyes. "Oi, Sasuke, come back!"

"Unlikely."

Naruto spun around, cursing himself for losing track of his opponent, and prepared to minimize the incoming damage as much as possible—

"Konoha Senpū!"

A blur of emerald green flashed past the blond and planted a foot into the Oto-nin's midriff that sent him flying backwards. The bone-user regained his footing, staring at the newcomer with hard green eyes. "And you are?"

"I am Konoha's Beautiful Green Beast, Lee Rock!" Naruto stared at his savior with wide eyes, stunned by the last-minute rescue, and almost missed the other boy urge, "You must continue your mission and rescue Sasuke-kun. I will remain here in your stead. Do not worry!" He gave the blond a thumb's up, head turning just slightly to flash a bright smile. "Reinforcements are on the way."

"Uh, okay, right!" He rushed to follow Sasuke, yelling as he left, "He uses bones as weapons and he's super strong! Be careful!"

Then his focus was on the path – and the mission – ahead.

Fū managed to control her descent into the ravine with short bursts of wind from her hands and feet, landing with a soft grunt on rocky terrain lacking the impressive foliage that defined the Land of Fire. Upstream of the river that ran on her right side were several chakra signatures, one of them dwarfing the rest. There was another spike of chakra – foul, malicious, overwhelming – and then there were two powerful presences, nearly identical to each other, both exuding the same feeling that the previous two demonic entities had given off. She raced ahead despite the hesitancy that threatened to freeze her movements, finding a boy roughly her age wearing a grey, fur-lined jacket being assaulted by a two-headed, red-skinned…creature, his appearance a reminder of the stories of oni, an inhuman enemy.

She steeled her resolve and rushed into battle, wind swirling around her hand as she sped forward, fingers clenched tightly for the Wind Release: Whirlwind Fist.

A hand emerged from her target's back, grabbing just above her wrist and stopping her attack from connecting. "What?" she gasped, her surprise echoed by the Leaf Genin on the other side of the demonic shinobi.

The head on the left twisted to face her. "A third party, huh? It seems we're outnumbered now, brother."

"We'll just have to kill them quicker then, eh, Sakon?" posed the head on the right.

"Get down!" yelled the Konoha-nin, and Fū found herself tackled and skidding across the ground. There was a high-pitched 'arf!' and then a cry of disgust from the pair of demonic voices. "Nice job, Akamaru! Let's go, Jinjū Konbi Henge: Sōtōrō!"

The boy's weight disappeared, and Fū found herself in the shadow of a large canine-like creature with shaggy white fur and two heads. She gaped at the beast, its snarls drowning out the furious cursing of the Sound shinobi. What—

"Garōga!"

The beast spun into a twister that careened at the demonic ninja, wind streaming past it and flecks of drool flying from its maw. It caught the Oto-nin within its vortex, bisecting his body and sending the halves careening to opposite sides of its flight. Fū frowned at the momentary lull as the beast stared down its handiwork from several hundred feet away. By all appearances, the Fang Wolf Fang had literally torn the enemy apart, but death would mean that the overwhelming chakra blanketing the area should have disappeared. Instead, it appeared to be surging, and in short order the two Sound shinobi were on their feet, segmented black armor grown in place of each one's missing half. They looked… Hellish, Fū thought, with their sunburn-colored skin, single horn protruding from their foreheads, and spikes decorating their armored shoulders like pauldrons. Soldiers of the damned.

"I guess this is better odds, right, Ukon?"

"Much better. Let's take care of this stupid mutt, Sakon." The white…wolf, Fū supposed…was charging them again in its spiraling attack, and the pair of Sound shinobi had their palms on the ground, planning a counter. Fū felt their chakra join together, and she raced forward to take advantage of their distraction just as they shouted, "Kuchiyose: Rashōmon!"

The Taki-nin didn't let the sight of the demonic gate – a technique that only reinforced her opinion of her lookalike enemies – rising from the earth deter her, though she did wince as the massive beast impacted it from the other side, creating a loud crump that petered out to a dull clang. She summoned wind to both fists as her distance to the shinobi on the right narrowed to only 10 feet—

He twisted with a snarl that bared a jaw full of too many pointed teeth, a shark in the throes of a kill. "Not quite!" he shouted, voice high with sadistic glee. "Tarenken!"

Within the span of a second, she took hard punches to the chest, stomach, chin, the last one sending stars exploding through her vision as his longer reach allowed him to continue raining down blows with the Multiple Connected Fists technique. His maniacal laughter echoed in her ears with each hit, seeming to take great pleasure in her pain. One blow finally sent her flying out of his range; she crashed to the ground, gasping. There was a flurry of wind beside her, and then a rough hand was gently slapping her cheek. "Hey, hey, you okay?"

Fū groaned, orange eyes blinking open as her head lolled to the side. She met the fierce gaze of the Konoha-nin in the grey jacket, twin marks like enlarged fangs tattooed in blood red beneath vertically slit, animalistic, black eyes. Cradled against his chest was the prone form of a small white dog with brown-ears; the canine looked like a smaller version of the two-headed beast that had whirled its way through the battlefield a minute before, though that might have been her vision still swimming from the blows. "I don't know who you are," the boy continued, "but my senses tell me you're better than those guys. C'mon, we should take out the one while the other's distracted."

"Distracted-ssu?" Fū echoed, voice thick like syrup as she sat up.

"What an interesting plan," quipped a rough voice, "but it won't work! Tarenkyaku!"

Fū grunted as a foot slammed into her sternum, sending her skidding backwards in an uncontrolled roll; she barely registered the demonic shinobi thrashing her would-be ally, his body seemingly hunched to protect the small dog in his arms. The Oto-nin's familiar laughter rang out, and the kunoichi forced herself to her feet, shaking off the vertigo and approaching the one-sided beatdown while he was distracted with torturing the Leaf shinobi. She threw a forward punch at him, hesitant to use wind chakra for fear of harming Naruto's friend, and found her fist engulfed in one blackened claw. His fanged mouth widened in a smirk. "Pathetic! Taren—agghh!"

The jacket-clad boy's sharp nails were stained red, his unusual eyes and enlarged canines displayed in a prominent snarl. "That's for Akamaru!"

"Little shit!" sneered the Oto-nin, whirling on the spot with the green-haired girl's hand still clenched in his own. He flung her at the boy, and the pair fell to the ground in a mess of flailing limbs. "You're all trash!"

"Move!" Fū hissed, scrabbling to her feet. "We need to pincer him."

Her ally was holding a hand to his ribs, one eye closed in a wince. "Easier said than done."

"Boo," whispered the demonic shinobi, his presence suddenly mere inches away. Fū expelled a Fūton: Reppūshō from her palms on sheer impulse, and his blackened fist broke the ground where she and the dog-like boy had just been, the Violent Wind Palm sending them skidding – or tumbling in his case – over the rocky terrain in opposite directions. "Tarenken!" he shouted, but instead of fists, Fū found a barrage of rocks the size of oranges zooming at her. She held her hands out, one on top of the other with over a foot of distance between them, and summoned a horizontal whirlwind wide enough to intercept the incoming cavalcade, funneling the projectiles out its tail at her back. Vision obscured by rocks and wind, she felt more than saw the Konoha-nin's chakra approaching the Oto-nin, and only the shouted, "Tarensenpū!" alerted her to any counterattack.

Multiple twisters erupted across the battlefield, and Fū felt her ally's chakra soaring in the opposite direction, caught up in the Multiple Connected Whirlwinds. The roaring tornados overwhelmed her own winds, and Fū abandoned her defense in favor of propelling herself backwards with more wind manipulation. She could sense the Konoha-nin engaged in battle with the second source of foul chakra, whatever distraction he'd been preoccupied with having apparently run its course, while the enemy they'd been fighting was rushing towards her, racing through the hurricane winds like they were some sort of demented obstacle course.

Wind was already encircling her fists when the Oto-nin – Sakon, Ukon, she didn't know which one they'd been fighting – appeared with a punch and a sneer. She blocked with her wrist, the cutting power of the Whirlwind Fist slicing into the segmented armor of his arm, then swung her other fist at his too-pointed head and stumbled when the limb transited empty space, his body gone but dark presence still undeniably right there—

"Looking for me?"

She turned in the direction of the voice and found the red skin and pointed chin of an oni inches from her own, his neck extending from her shoulder with lips spread wide in an ominous grin. Her shriek, echoing with shock and terror, was cut off when his hand sprouted from her ribs and clapped over her mouth. "That's enough of that," he noted, voice almost silky in its amusement. "In my Stage Two state, I can freely dissemble and reconstruct the cells and proteins that make up the body, and then invade your body and break it down on a molecular level. Basically…"

His voice faded to the background as Fū focused on his chakra. She could feel his tainted presence within herself, corrupting her from the inside, like all the darkness she'd imagined carrying the title of Jinchūriki brought had manifested and was poisoning her very being. It was invasive in a way she didn't think she could describe to someone who hadn't experienced it, a gross violation of her person. She needed him out, now.

She turned her sensory abilities inside, seeking out the foreign cells like antibodies hunting a virus. The feel of her own chakra had always been a mystery, unable to detect her own essence like she could others. She'd always imagined it to be a little wild, energetic, a hummingbird flitting from flower to flower in a bid to find a place to belong.

And now maybe she'd finally found it among a group of misanthropes, abandoned shinobi who felt like emptiness, anger, irritation, melancholy… Hope.

So she found the foreign chakra, the blight corrupting her person, and kept focus on it while building her chakra within. Explosions split the quiet, but Fū ignored the noise and wash of heat, keeping all her attention on her internal task. The Oto-nin was still talking, musing about which organ to target first, when she finally released the pulse of chakra she'd built up.

"Hgk!"

Blood splashed across her cheek and stained her white top a deep crimson as the slicing chakra of her wind affinity shredded the demonic shinobi's cells. He hacked up ruby-colored gouts of fluid, fanged teeth painted like a vampire fresh off a kill. "What—" he gurgled, the single word seeming to take all his energy.

Fū didn't bother responding as his head appeared to slough off her body and revert to that of a teenaged boy with grey hair that fell in messy strands around his ears; truthfully, she wasn't sure she could have summoned a response even if she wanted to. That burst of chakra had been an unrefined, unprecedented exercise of wind manipulation focused on cutting on a molecular level, and as sensitive as her abilities were, she'd known it was unlikely she'd manage it without some consequences. Even now, pins and needles were prickling her arms, her fingers, around her kidneys, down her thigh… Nerve damage, organ failure, paralysis…it was hard to tell what she'd inflicted on herself with that particular move.

But the Oto-nin's chakra was gone, his body seemingly vanished with the shredding of his cells, his decapitated head the only memento of her nightmare. She breathed slowly, first through her nose, then in shallow inhales through clenched teeth. Unhurried, heavy footsteps made their way to her ears, and the Waterfall shinobi tilted her head to find the jacketed Konoha-nin trudging towards her, blood trickling from his ears and fatigue cloaking him like a second skin. He ambled past her and knelt to pick up the small dog he'd hidden earlier, then turned and trudged back her way, collapsing into a tired sit mere feet from her position. A bark of laughter, almost a grunt, escaped his mouth. "Heh. We did it."

Fū nodded, not trusting her voice. She couldn't tell if it was because she functionally couldn't, or because trusting this strange boy she'd just risked her life for seemed a bridge too far, even after spending so much time building stock with Gaara and having that pay off. Apparently unperturbed by her silence, he flashed his teeth and continued, "Thanks for your help. Akamaru and I are a good team, but I'm not sure we could've done it without ya. Name's Inuzuka Kiba."

She stared at the hand he proffered, a foreign feeling dulling the aches of her fight. His grin was a little feral, but the wildness seemed more carefree than hostile, and his chakra felt, if not friendly, at least welcoming. Fū smiled back – small, hesitant, but no less honest – and stretched over to grab the offered appendage. "Fū-ssu," she said, shyness coloring the simple introduction.

Kiba withdrew his hand after several seconds and then stared up at the cliff face looming above them. "I've still got a mission, and my teammates are waiting for me. Are you gonna be okay on your own?"

Her promise to Gaara echoed in her ears. "Yeah," she whispered, "but take me with you."

Gaara followed the heading Fū had given him, and in short order, he could hear the sounds of battle, and then, high-pitched in the seconds of lull, a melody that had no place on the battlefield. He was used to screams and cries, pleas for death, for mercy, and that had always been symphonic to him, a dirge of the damned. This music, whatever it was, sent a shiver shrieking through his body, a simultaneous reminder of the person he was trying to leave behind dissonant with a melody that made him want to plug his ears and silence the source of the torment.

…It must end.

There were three giant…creatures, he decided…wreaking havoc on the forest, moving around the foliage with wild swings of their humanoid limbs. They seemed to be fixated on a single target, chasing a form in a green flak jacket who mostly blended into the surroundings. Gaara ignored them in favor of targeting the source of the melody that threatened to rend his soul. Teal eyes were drawn to a vibrant spot of red among the browns and greens of the trees. Sand slithered from his gourd and shot across the space between them. It was hard to tell from the distance, but she – with the length of the hair, he assumed the figure was female – seemed so distracted by her playing that she wasn't paying attention to anything else.

Even at the height of his dispassionate arrogance, with his Shield of Sand intercepting every attack, he never allowed himself to become blind to his surroundings.

"Suna Hoko," he muttered, and the sand formed itself into a short spear that impaled the kunoichi's heart. She jerked once, her body toppling off the tree branch amidst glorious silence. The cadence that had built between his ears disappeared with the music, and the redhead felt something deep inside – something ruffled, uncomfortable – settle back into a steady calm. Better.

A boy with dark hair held in a high ponytail shaped like the crown of some cacti landed on a nearby branch. His eyes were narrowed with wary scrutiny, fingers held close together in preparation for a jutsu. "Sabaku no Gaara," he identified, tone cool, clipped. It reminded him of what Baki had sometimes sounded like when talking to him, as if he could control his fear by pretending ice ran through his veins. Gaara hadn't given his then-sensei much thought when he spoke like that – or ever, really – since the Jōnin posed no real threat to his well-being; this boy was even less of one. "Why are you here?"

"To protect Naruto's friends." The boy started at that, his hands falling to his side, one eyebrow rising skeptically. "The enemies you fight are strong. And Naruto…he would desire your safety. It is his…goal," the redhead settled on.

"You know Naruto? That's unexpected," the Leaf shinobi observed, posture suddenly lax. "Well, so long as you're not gonna try to kill me again, that's fine by me."

Gaara cocked his head to the side. "Again?" There was nothing about this boy that even suggested he would have caught his attention previously. "You are…from the Chūnin Exams?" That other boy – the one Fū had helped save – had apparently known him as well, and the Exams were the only event that would have allowed for that opportunity.

The boy shrugged, noncommittal, and muttered, "Guess I should consider myself lucky you don't remember me. Nara Shikamaru," he introduced. He angled his head away, staring into the distance without giving Gaara a chance to respond, and then looked back at the redhead. "That would've been far more troublesome if you hadn't shown up, and I appreciate your help, but I have to leave. My teammates need me."

"There is no need. They are safe."

That finally seemed to elicit a reaction. "They're—what? All of them?"

"The heavy one, the white-eyed one, and whoever Fū is helping," Gaara listed. "All of Naruto's friends are accounted for." He glanced around slowly, as if just now realizing they were alone. "Where is Naruto?"

"They're all okay…" Now Shikamaru reminded Gaara a little of Kankurō when the redhead's attention had shifted to someone more interesting. Relief, he thought. "I had to send Naruto on ahead. I guess that's where I need to go."

"I will come with."

The Chūnin turned towards him, one eyebrow arched. "Not to sound ungrateful, but I think you've done more than enough."

"You do not seem capable on your own."

"I'll try not to take that personally," came the wry response, but then Shikamaru shrugged. "Whatever. Not like I have any jurisdiction over you. And I doubt I could stop you anyway. Given everything, your abilities will probably come in handy." He pointed to the northeast. "Naruto took off in that direction."

"Then we should go."

He followed Shikamaru through the maze of trees, trailing the taller boy as he had Fū. Just like the green-haired girl had, Shikamaru kept turning to shoot him glances, each one displaying an emotion he could only guess were varying degrees of confusion or skepticism. After several minutes of watching the Konoha-nin watch him, he averted his gaze, finding the surrounding foliage a convenient distraction from the continued looks he couldn't interpret. Everything was so green, a vibrant, lively atmosphere that was a stark contrast to the neutral-colored walls of the Senju complex or the bland browns of the Hidden Sand. Every few seconds, his periphery caught another color, a bright spot in the deluge of browns and greens, and he found his attention riveted to it until his momentum carried him past. Life – the world, really – had never before interested him; it was all irrelevant to how he functioned. But now…

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the small garnet Rōshi had given him. Dappled sunlight filtered down through the canopy and cast the gem in a glistening scarlet light. The color was a stark reminder of freshly spilled blood, of how easy it was to drain life from his victims – because to be enemies would imply that he had a personal connection to them, a relationship he couldn't form, yet alone understand – to sustain the cries of Mother—

His head throbbed with the memory, hands coming up to clutch at his temples. Shikamaru's voice sounded distant despite being only one jump ahead, everything garbled by the relentless throbbing in his brain. He inhaled deeply in an attempt to steady himself, trying to force himself to hear Inoichi's calm words of acceptance from sessions past, and teal eyes flickered back and forth, finding only an endless cage of trees, the greenery unperturbed by his mental breakdown.

Trees… He forced himself to focus on the forest around him, gaze simultaneously intense and vacant. His brain cycled through words he'd absorbed in weeks of sleepless nights, the Senju's library a repository of information he'd never known existed. Plants, biology, ecology…the number of tomes on those subjects seemed disproportionately high compared to the rest, and he'd come to learn that life was…vast. Where life before had been crimson blood, now it was…everything. Grey squirrels, blue birds, orange cats…the green of the flora.

It became easier to breathe, realizing that life was more than he'd defined it previously. The garnet suddenly felt like less of an anchor meant to bind him, to keep him in stasis, and more of the talisman Inoichi had deemed it, a guide to a better, even healthy, perspective. Life could be about more than death, about the scarlet stain of another person whose futile struggle had ended. It was everywhere, in everything, and he could find it if he focused on something other than the past.

"Hey," Shikamaru called, his voice breaking through the redhead's epiphany, "are you okay? You seem a bit out of it, and I think we're gonna need all our wits about us."

Teal eyes focused on the Konoha-nin with an unrelenting gaze, eyebrows furrowing slightly. It was getting a little annoying that people kept asking him that. "Fine."

Judging by the way the dark-haired boy was looking at him, he was being heavily scrutinized. But then his companion returned his gaze to the path ahead with nothing further said, and Gaara allowed his attention to drift in the same direction. The light ahead seemed to be getting brighter, the trees thinning, and then suddenly they were in the middle of a field where two combatants were facing off. Gaara immediately recognized the emerald-colored jumpsuit of the black-haired boy, and the surprise he remembered feeling at the Leaf shinobi breaking through his Shield of Sand resurfaced as he watched the boy struggling in close combat against another male with grey-white hair and a too-large off-white kimono. "Lee!" shouted another voice, and the Suna-nin's gaze swiveled to where the long-haired, white-eyed boy Fū had rescued earlier was rushing forward, away from the seated form of the brown-haired, heavy-set boy Gaara himself had saved. He summoned sand from his gourd and directed it forward to intercept what looked to be a killing blow, but they were too close, he could already tell it wouldn't make it in time—

There was a grunt from the boy beside him, and darkness wrapped its way up the Oto-nin's legs, waist, torso, arms, freezing the extended limb in place. "Kage-Kubishibari no Jutsu…" mumbled Shikamaru. His voice sounded strained. "Though maybe not for long…this guy's strong."

"How unexpected." The deep voice of the white-haired male lacked affect, bored by the proceedings. "More of you keep showing up to interfere with Orochimaru-sama's plans." Dark markings, lines branching out into more lines like a genealogical map, spread across pale skin.

Shikamaru groaned, and Gaara turned toward him to find sweat beading the boy's brow. "He's too strong… Neji, get Lee and get back!"

The boy with long hair and white eyes grabbed the dark-haired boy – Lee, Gaara remembered, Shikamaru's call triggering a memory – and dragged him back to where the heavy-set boy was watching them all. Gaara's sand finally reached the Oto-nin, who distanced himself from the gathered boys, the darkness that had restrained him returning to Shikamaru and settling into his shadow. The Chūnin fell to one knee with a heavy breath. "You are not particularly strong," Gaara noted.

"The jutsu is limited by the strength of the target," Shikamaru panted, "and our physical distance. Those markings gave him enough chakra to overpower me, easily. The girl I fought had something similar."

"I believe they have another form. The ones we fought did not appear human."

"…Great. We need a plan. Now."

Shikamaru got to his feet and staggered over to where Neji and Lee were arguing. Gaara made to follow him, but teal eyes caught movement heading for the group of Konoha-nin. They are not prepared, he realized. His entire purpose for embarking on this mission was at stake. His gourd dissolved into individual granules and reformed into a convex shield as he interposed himself in the path of the attacking Sound shinobi. Chakra pushed the silica together, strengthening the shield enough to withstand the blow of the pale shinobi—

Something white and sharpened to a needle's tip pierced the sand and buried itself in his ribcage. Gaara screamed, agony flaring white-hot as his defenses were again penetrated, a pain that was becoming familiar but no less shocking wracking his body.

For the second time in his life, blood trickled from his body rather than that of his enemies, and he found himself paralyzed, too focused on the pain leaking from his torso with every drop of scarlet. "Sabaku no…—ur moniker…justice," came the flat voice of the Oto-nin. His monotone was fading in and out of focus, a melody that kept skipping notes, the silences filled by a ringing in his ears that drowned out everything else. "No matt…" The sand he'd erected as a shield crumbled to reveal green eyes as ambivalent as his own. It was hard to tell through the haze of pain – he might have been imagining things – but the skin of the other male's shoulder appeared to open, and he reached over to pull another slender white weapon out of it. There was a shout – it almost sounded like his name – and the white object seemed to come closer—

A burst of wind against his skin, and green as vibrant as the forest they'd traversed overtook his vision. Lee's leg was extended vertically, his kick having thrown off the Oto-nin's strike. A different body barreled into Gaara from the side, and the redhead found himself tumbling with no awareness of his surroundings. After several seconds, he found himself splayed out on the grass and looking at the sky, a clear, bright blue. "Nice job, Chōji," came Shikamaru's voice, and then his dark hair and eyes entered the redhead's vision. "Gaara, are you okay?"

No, he wanted to say this time. He was on a mission that didn't fully make sense to him, he was in pain – again – and blood – his blood – was flowing freely from his body. But while all of those things ran through his mind, he couldn't manage to utter the words. It was yet another reminder of how weak he was: sealed by Jiraiya to prevent him from losing control, his automatic defense locked away, his ability to manipulate sand neutered to the bare minimum…why Naruto insisted he could be strong when he seemed to be anything but made no sense.

Although…he'd managed to beat that first Oto-nin, the one whose blows had rained down as strong as Han's, hadn't he? And the girl he'd saved Shikamaru from, killing her had been as easy as anything he'd accomplished back in his pre-Konoha days, hadn't it? They weren't weak, and he'd managed to best them in even his current state. Perhaps it wasn't him, but that this opponent was just that much stronger, and he'd only ever had one goal when it came to strong shinobi…

Kill them.

Seeming to take his silence as answer enough, Shikamaru hurriedly explained, "There isn't much time. I don't have anything for your wound, but…Chōji, give me your scarf and one of those soldier pills. This might hurt," he warned. Gaara felt a sharp pinch around his torso, and an involuntary gasp escaped his lips; careful hands adjusted his body to tightly cinch something around his ribs. "Gaara, focus. I have—shit! Kagemane no Jutsu! Damn, this guy's ridiculous. Lee, move!"

Gaara blinked repeatedly in an attempt to follow the Leaf shinobi's direction, and when his sight finally stopped blurring, he found himself staring once more at brilliant green. Between his realization and what he could only assume was a makeshift tourniquet around his wound, his faculties were starting to return. "Apologies, Gaara-san." Lee's voice sounded a little harried, and the redhead was hoisted off the ground and into the other boy's arms. "You seem different from our last meeting."

"I have…been through much…" he rasped, crawling out of Lee's arms in a moment of clarity and placing a hand to his head to forestall a wave of vertigo.

Lee nodded. "As have I. While I don't mean to cast aspersions, it has not been easy recovering from our fight."

Gaara didn't respond, though it was hard to say if it was due to not knowing what to say or the fog that clouded his mind and body. Teal eyes glanced down at the white cloth wrapped around his torso, a rust-colored stain slowly spreading across its length. I'm still bleeding, he observed, and his internal voice held a calm in stark contrast to how he'd reacted to the wound. But he was still alive – he could feel it in the way his body throbbed with a pain he'd only experienced since coming to Konoha – and that meant…something. Perhaps he did have a purpose, some value that had yet to be qualified, and that was why he was still here.

"Gaara, are you with us?"

Sand lashed out and caught a handful of small, white projectiles that was targeting their group. They burrowed their way through his defense, the silica absorbing the momentum, until they dropped out the other side. The redhead caught Shikamaru's surprised expression and offered him only a curt nod in response.

Lee blazed forward as Shikamaru dropped to a knee and the brown-haired boy Gaara had rescued earlier – Chōji, he guessed, since there was no one else around and he vaguely recalled Shikamaru saying it – took up vigil beside him. Darkness pooled at Shikamaru's feet as Lee engaged the Oto-nin with a flurry of kicks that were countered by his opponent's fluid movements and protrusions of hard, white material – bone, he guessed – that burst through his skin at random locations. Sand shot forward at his direction, small clumps that formed into shuriken and targeted any exposed areas he could see. The bone-user appeared unaffected by the small cuts that peppered him, instead sprouting enough bones to give him the rough appearance of a porcupine and spinning into an elaborate move that threatened to slash Lee from every angle.

With a thought, Gaara reshaped the shuriken into floating bracers that worked to intercept the attacks, reforming them whenever an attack managed to disperse the individual granules. The Oto-nin suddenly froze – the redhead heard Shikamaru groan beside him, then, "Lee, now!" – and then Lee vanished, reappearing inside the bone-user's guard with a shout of, "First Gate, Kaimon, release! Omote Renge!"

The Oto-nin flew skyward from the power of Lee's kick, the green-clad boy appearing behind him in midair and wrapping him in bandages, attempting to avoid the protruding bones as much as possible. Gaara watched with ominous nostalgia as the Konoha-nin implemented the Primary Lotus, the same technique he'd used – unsuccessfully – against the redhead himself in the Chūnin Exams. Just as Lee drove his opponent head-first into the ground, the Oto-nin's skin darkened to an ashy brown, and a thick tail sprouted from the base of his spine. The ground caved in at their impact, and Lee leaped away to land unsteadily a careful distance from their enemy.

What rose from the crater appeared more animal than human, yet less demonic than the other Sound shinobi they'd faced. Aside from the tail, large, curved bones longer and thicker than the boy's arm grew out from his back in all directions, thin petals of a hellish flower. He turned yellow eyes with pitch-black, almost soulless, sclera to the assembled Konoha-nin. "Dealing with you has become tedious," he announced.

Gaara knew that tone of voice; he'd used it often enough to know that the only thing left for the audience was an imminent death. A glance to the side told him that neither Shikamaru nor Chōji seemed to have any strategies at hand, and Lee appeared to have spent his energy using the Primary Lotus. Sand rushed to each of the Leaf shinobi as the bone-user knelt down and uttered, "Sawarabi no Mai!"

Bone spikes burst from the ground like bamboo shoots, and Gaara managed to create small platforms of sand to elevate himself and Naruto's friends above the field before they were skewered. His head swam with the exertion, the extensive sand manipulation a test of his reduced control and injured state. Movement caught his periphery, and the redhead barely managed to strip off the layer of sand that served as his second skin and turn the granules into palm-sized shields to stop a whip made of spiked bone and cartilage from binding him in place. It coiled around him, an inch from his skin and pressing against the resisting sand. "You are proving to be quite persistent," the Oto-nin stated. He was staring at the Sand Genin from amidst the field of bones, and Gaara only found the same determination Naruto often glared at him with reflected in the inhuman gaze. "That ends now." Bones grew from his forearm until his entire left arm was engulfed by a conical spear as long as his body. "Tessenka no Mai: Hana! Now die!"

The bone-user leaped for him, crashing through and destroying a swath of the bone field with the spear poised to run him through, and Gaara was sure that nothing Han had taught him would stop the Oto-nin, especially in his current state—

"Bubun Baika no Jutsu!"

A hand large enough to block out the sun swatted at the Sound shinobi. Gaara looked over to find the extended limb belonged to Chōji, who let out a short shriek as the bone spear pierced the soft flesh of his palm and sent blood spraying outward. His attack momentarily deterred, the Oto-nin landed on the ground, dark gaze flitting over to where Shikamaru and Chōji were floating, the latter's arm returning to its normal size. "Gnats," he growled, pointing the spear at the pair and manipulating the bones so that the weapon bloomed open like a flower. From his angle, Gaara could see a bone emerging from the white-haired male's palm, which was leveled in the direction of the two Konoha-nin in a parody of an arrow targeting a caged bird. "Tessenka no Mai—"

A vortex of grey barreled into the bone-user from his blind spot with a roar of, "TSUGA!" It rebounded off the Oto-nin and landed in the open area the bone-user had originally started, revealing a boy with brown hair, a grey jacket, and a grin baring sharp teeth. "Heh, gotcha."

The bone whip pressuring his sand went slack, and Gaara returned his attention to the Sound shinobi to find him staggering backwards, a bone buried in his chest. The whip fell from the Oto-nin's grasp, and he collapsed on his back, the inhuman features of his transformation fading to reveal a pale, emaciated form, still in death. "Kiba!" Chōji gasped.

The danger taken care of, Gaara allowed the control over his sand to lapse, and the four floating shinobi descended to alight carefully in open spots on the ground. The redhead nearly collapsed on his feet, but a sudden presence at his side, an arm curving around his back, kept him upright. He tilted his head just enough to see that Fū was the one holding him up, apparently unconcerned with being near or touching him.

Just like Naruto.

"You…are here," he said, tiredness masking his surprise.

Fū's green hair shifted with her nod, a small grin quirking her lips. "I said I would, right? And in better shape than you-ssu."

Gaara nodded slowly, teal eyes sliding closed. "Protecting Naruto's friends…is not easy."

"But we did it." She sounded cheerful, and again, Gaara found the similarities between her and Naruto uncanny. "You don't look so good."

"…Blood…pain…" His words were beginning to slur, an unfamiliar exhaustion consuming his body.

"We should go." Her voice changed – hushed, hurried, a reminder of when Naruto had hovered over him and asked if he was okay – and she shifted his body to a (presumably) more comfortable position. "C'mon, it's a long way back." Gaara only managed a grunt of acknowledgment before he felt them move. She faltered, shifted his body again, hissed (in pain? he wondered), and then practically staggered onwards, burdened by his weight.

By the time Shikamaru turned away from his team to speak to the two Jinchūriki, they were gone. He frowned, then returned his attention to the other Leaf shinobi and said, "The mission isn't done yet. Let's go."

Naruto pushed himself to catch up to his former classmate, the last leg of a relay he'd been running a long time. Sasuke was quick, and like the Oto-nin before, had a small lead, but the blond was motivated to muscle through any discomfort he may have felt to complete the mission objective. The longer they ran, the more it became apparent that the Uchiha was either a willing participant in his own kidnapping or that he'd been mind-controlled to ignore all suggestions to return to the Hidden Leaf. He'd had plenty of opportunity at this point to stop his flight and come back of his own volition; that he hadn't meant he was unlikely to respond to anything that wasn't force.

In a way, working with the assumption Sasuke was incapable of returning by his own power made things easier; the blond could put all his attention on strategizing offense and defense, as Han had taught him, rather than trying to convince the boy of something he was unwilling – or incapable – of hearing.

He caught sight of his former classmate's blue shirt among the trees, urging himself forward to the distant sound of rushing water. It seemed to grow exponentially louder over the next several seconds, the noise increasing as his distance to the other boy narrowed.

Sasuke leaped out of the trees and into the sunlight, Naruto two bounds behind with his hands flipping through seals. When he followed the dark-haired boy out of the forest, the source of the water revealed itself to be an impressive waterfall situated between two stone statues standing hundreds of feet tall, the crest of the falls at their shoulders. The Uchiha was standing on the nearer of the statues, and as the blond watched him jump from its crown, he finished the last sign of a technique Utakata had helped him learn. "Suiton: Tajū Suiben!"

Half a dozen water whips erupted from the center of the river and surged up to ensnare the Uchiha. Sasuke caught sight of them midflight and twisted to avoid them, limbs splayed in positions Naruto wouldn't have thought possible. When he landed on the water's surface, momentum lost, his head was craned upwards to fix the blond – steady on the statue's head far above – with a glare. At least, that's what the Jinchūriki assumed; the runaway Leaf shinobi was too far away to really tell, but Naruto knew what it was like to be stymied by someone, and in Sasuke's situation, he would probably be glaring, too. "You can't stop me!" Sasuke shouted, voice echoing between the stone sentinels, barely audible above the waterfall.

Naruto grit his teeth, a familiar irritation coursing through him; he was tired of being told what he could and couldn't do. "I can and I will," he yelled back, and whether the other boy could hear him didn't matter, "believe it! Suiton: Shigure!"

Small orbs of water rose around the Uchiha and converged upon his position. Sasuke ducked and weaved around the Drizzle technique's projectiles with a fluidity greater than the bone-user's – better even than Utakata – appearing almost preternaturally gifted at evasion. He turned, unleashing a multitude of orange flames in the blond's direction, and Naruto took several steps away from the statue's edge to avoid them. He watched them shoot past and then angle towards him from their zenith, skipping backwards to avoid each one as it tried to ignite him.

His foot found no further purchase, blue eyes widening as he stumbled backwards into freefall. He twisted in midair as he fell past the upper part of the waterfall, fingers twisting through hand signs as he passed by where Sasuke stood watching atop the river's surface, his mission objective falling out of reach. I won't fail! "Suiton: Kyūzō Surushio no Jutsu!"

Apparently the roar of the waterfall was enough to drown out the rush of the Surging Tide Technique – or he just wasn't paying attention – as Sasuke was caught unaware from behind and swept off his feet, carried over the waterfall's edge to succumb to gravity. Naruto then turned his attention to his own safety, adjusting his midair position so that his arms were tucked against his sides and his feet were angled to hit the water first. He entered with only a small splash for how far he'd fallen, spreading limbs wide and swimming to the surface to take in a gulp of air. A little chakra manipulation had him standing on the surface, water dripping from soaked orange clothing and blond spikes in time to watch Sasuke crash into the waterfall's break with none of the elegance he'd shown in dodging the Drizzle technique. The Uchiha crawled to his feet atop the water's surface and glared at the blond with eyes like rubies. Naruto had only a moment to reflect that he had always thought the other boy's eyes were a dark color before his musing was cut short by his former classmate's laughter. "Kukuku…you? I was expecting someone with actual talent to be chasing me, not some loser who couldn't even graduate the Academy."

The same anger from earlier reared its head; the Uchiha had dismissed him before without even knowing who he was? That was even more insulting than the fact that Sasuke thought he was the same person who'd failed to graduate over eight months ago. "I've come a long way since then, Sasuke!" His anger reminded him of what he'd gone through to get to this point, chakra building in his chest. "Katon: Gōkakyū no Jutsu!"

His cry was echoed by Sasuke, who sent an even larger Great Fireball to counter his. Dazzled by the ensuing explosion, he was caught off-guard as the wayward Konoha-nin burst through the conflagration and punched him square in the jaw. Naruto skipped, artless and flailing, across the water, then backflipped to right himself. Sasuke shadowed his movements, then threw a roundhouse kick at the blond's head that Naruto put up an arm to block—

The Uchiha kicked the arm wide and then brought his other leg around in a wheel kick that connected with the Jinchūriki's temple. Naruto boggled at the maneuver even as his vision swam; that was a perfect block, taught by Rōshi, perfected by Han. There was no way his opponent should've been able to anticipate and then counter it with how he'd attacked. Still processing how he'd been bested, Sasuke appeared inside his guard with a vertical kick to his stomach that slipped past another block and knocked the air from his lungs. He wheezed, taking a knee to his jaw that snapped his head back.

It felt wrong to have gone through weeks of training with Han, months of beatings with Rōshi, painful lessons all around, and still feel like he was coming up short in this fight. Sasuke's taijutsu was fast and targeted, every strike circumventing his defenses and precisely hitting its target. His own movements felt sluggish by comparison, which was strange because neither Hidden Rock Jinchūriki were prone to taking it easy in practice, and there was no way Sasuke was better than either of them. Han's baritone echoed in his mind: Turn the situation to your advantage.

He allowed the next hit to land without any attempt at a block – it wasn't helping anyway – hands focused on forming seals. "Kirigakure no Jutsu!"

Sasuke's kick sent him soaring through the mist that suddenly shrouded the area from the river beneath their feet, a swirl of vapors the only thing to mark his flight. He found purchase on the water and breathed in the cold air, the chill soothing his aching, winded lungs. "You think you can hide from me, Naruto?!" Sasuke shouted. He sounded irritated, his heightened pitch familiar in every setback to master Katon, Doton, Yōton, the Rasengan, taijutsu – every step of the blond's training with the other Jinchūriki – that Naruto himself had experienced. Naruto didn't respond, too many fights with Han and Utakata having taught him that, even though the Hiding in Mist Technique diminished sight, it didn't dampen sound. He focused on the direction the Uchiha's voice had emanated, again performing the signs for the Multiple Water Whip technique in an effort to restrain the other boy. He snuck closer to his (hopefully restrained) opponent, pausing when an annoyed, "Katon: Ryūka no Jutsu!" echoed through the mist, followed by the hiss of evaporating water. "Where did you learn all these jutsu, loser? You're not even a real shinobi!"

"I never stopped training!" Naruto shot back, almost spitting anger. "And if I'm not a real shinobi, then you should be really embarrassed that I'm kicking your ass!"

Sasuke's fist emerged from the mist and slammed into his cheek, the dark-haired boy snarling, "I'm not losing to you!"

The Jinchūriki collapsed into a puddle of water, and Naruto waited until Sasuke's head swiveled to sweep his surroundings before surfacing from the water with a knee aimed at his adversary's back. Sasuke grunted as he was struck and driven into the river with a splash. He turned and tried to punch the blond, but the move was sluggish, restricted by the water, and Naruto caught it easily before planting both feet into the dark-haired boy's stomach. Naruto saw him gasp, red eyes widening with surprise. The Uchiha's feet flailed, attempting to propel himself to the surface, but the blond dove past his opponent and put him in a full nelson. He was no Mist shinobi, but Utakata had put him through enough training to hold his breath, swim faster, and move more fluidly underwater than the average shinobi, especially an untrained Leaf Genin. If he could hold Sasuke underwater long enough to fall unconscious, that would be it—

The mission would succeed.

They fell deeper into the river, and as the light above diminished, a powerful chakra began to swirl around Sasuke. Naruto had a moment for his brow to furrow in confusion before a pair of strange protrusions burst out of the Konoha-nin's shoulder blades and forced him to release his hold. The appendages – wings, he thought, absurd as it sounded – flapped once, twice, then propelled the Uchiha towards the light in a vortex of water. Naruto followed him with a few strong strokes, trying to come up with new strategies now that his opponent had…leveled up? Transformed?

He broke the river's surface as quietly as possible, head poking up like the tip of an iceberg, the Hiding in Mist Technique keeping his presence concealed, and was greeted by Sasuke's maniacal laughter. "This power…you can't stop me!" Then came the sound of a hundred high-pitched chirps, one after another after another, an endless cacophony only temporarily drowned out by the Uchiha's shout of, "Chidori!"

"AAHHHH!"

Pain danced through his veins as whatever jutsu Sasuke was using electrocuted the river, his body still submerged beneath it. His muscles went lax, forcing him into a dead-man's float with wide blue eyes and agape mouth staring into the sky. The mist thinned, his control slipping with the shock, and he could spy the Uchiha flying above him, hovering on wings shaped like hands or talons with flesh-like webbing connecting each digit. He looked as he had when he'd burst from the container during the blond's fight with the bone-user: brownish-grey skin, spiky purplish-indigo hair, a black cross spread across nose and cheeks not unlike Rōshi's Jinchūriki mark, and it only reinforced the image of a demon in human skin. Naruto twitched his fingers, attempting to regain some measure of motor control, gaze fixated on his former classmate. A Great Fireball bore down on him, and the Jinchūriki pushed chakra into the river in a desperate bid of sloppy elemental manipulation, willing it to bend to his influence and creating a shield of water that bore the impact of the flames.

The heat of the resulting vapor that blew over him was stifling, but when his teeth ground together, it was because Sasuke was turning his back and flying up and away. It was just like every fight they'd had at the Academy, every person in his life who'd snubbed him for one reason or another, finding him beneath them, unworthy of his attention. Anger burned in him, the repeated fury of being ignored – especially in this moment, where the fate of his first mission rested in the balance – reaching a boiling point. He roared as strength flooded his body, the noise bestial, rolling onto all fours with working limbs and staring down to find a reflection of red-orange chakra bubbling across his skin in the shape of a fox. The vapor of the thinned Hiding in Mist Technique and the crashing waterfall became humid, weighty with heat. Sasuke's chakra was like a beacon in his senses – dark, foul, terrible – and the nearby elements – water, steam, earth – seemed to feed his strength. Sitting on his haunches, he held his hands out, palms up, and balls of molten rock formed from his chakra with a thought, not a second spared on the frustrations of his Lava Release training to date.

He hurled the balls, one after another, and they exploded against the cliff, barely missing Sasuke. Drops of lava cascaded like rain from the point of impact, burning ragged holes in the demonic boy's fleshy wings and unbalancing his flight. The Uchiha's ascension stuttered, and when he found purchase on the wall to keep from succumbing to gravity, Naruto leaped towards him with one superhuman bound, hand with claws instead of nails slamming into the back of the boy's head and driving him face-first into the rock. Sasuke grunted at the impact, flexing his wings to throw the blond off, but Naruto tightened his grip on the Uchiha's scalp and kicked off the rock, dragging them both back to the crashing water below. They hit with an impressive splash that forced the pair apart, both rocketing to the surface as soon as they got their bearings. Standing on top of the river, two demons fighting for dominance, Sasuke snarled, "Where'd you get this power, loser?"

"Don't underestimate me, asshole," Naruto growled, the water boiling around him. The Kyūbi's chakra – he knew that was the source of the power flooding his veins, could tell by the easy access to Lava Release, by the way the chakra around him felt simultaneously part of him and dissociated from him – fell into the surrounding steam and fundamentally changed it, brown-grey skin sloughing off Sasuke's wings like chocolate melting in the sun.

Purplish-indigo hair swiveled to observe each appendage in turn, the boy apparently unaffected by any pain, if it hurt at all, red eyes turning to fix on the blond. "What kind of jutsu is this? How did you come up with a jutsu the Sharingan can't copy?!"

Naruto didn't have an answer – he didn't know what the Sharingan was, and Sasuke's attitude didn't make him inclined to respond anyway – allowing the Kyūbi's chakra to bubble off his skin into red-tinged, translucent spheres in a parody of a technique he'd seen Utakata use dozens of times. A single roar sent them soaring towards the Uchiha, who called lightning to his palm, white-black bolts shooting off to pop each one. They exploded when burst, and the runaway Leaf Genin couldn't avoid the concussive force of the closest handful. "NA-RU-TO!" he bellowed, his rage momentarily raising his voice above the high-pitched trilling of the Chidori. "Enough of your tricks! Whatever you're doing won't stop me!"

"He no longer needs to; you are within my field of divination. Hakke Rokujūyon Shō!"

Sasuke startled, whirling on the spot, but Hyūga Neji's fingers were already stabbing at him, faster and faster, the lightning in the Uchiha's palm dissipating into black-white sparks, his demonic appearance molting away to reveal the pale-skinned, dark-haired boy beneath. From his haunches, Naruto watched the older boy work, waiting to intervene at the first indication of necessity, until Sasuke slumped forward, inert, only held up by Neji's hand on the scruff of his shirt collar. The Hyūga's white eyes flickered to the blond, holding his gaze despite the fearsome red-orange aura that swathed him, and Naruto thought that the older boy appeared…unkempt, fatigue softening his hard features. Naruto wondered what he'd been through, though relief at seeing him alive and well jolted him. "Uzumaki," he intoned in his stoic baritone, then paused, blinked, and cleared his throat to start again, "…Naruto. Your chakra is…overwhelming. Can you contain it?"

Naruto tried to tamp down on the power flowing through him, but it felt like trying to dam a river with a pebble. After several seconds, it became apparent that the Kyūbi was not going to relinquish the influence it was exerting. He shook his head, growling in a voice low with a bestial undertone, "No."

Neji watched him, and Naruto felt like he was staring at Utakata, the older boy mentally working through something that wouldn't be shared until he'd fully fleshed out the idea. "I may be able to help, if you would allow me." The blond nodded, and the Hyūga approached slowly, dragging Sasuke's prone body with him. Standing next to the Jinchūriki produced a wince from the stoic Genin, and upon reaching a hand out towards the chakra-cloaked body, he withdrew it with a hiss. "The properties of this chakra are…corrosive," Neji observed. "If you could reduce the harmful effects, even fractionally, that would help."

That sounded…manageable. He focused on the chakra's nature, twisting the corrosivity of it – in the steam, the bubbles, the lava – in an attempt to tame it. It resisted, and he engaged in a mental tug-of-war for control, finding a modicum of success. "Try…now…" he grunted. Neji's hand glowed blue with chakra, likely meant to protect himself, and he reached into the shroud again, two fingers gently poking at specific locations on his shoulder, his stomach, chest, thighs, forearms, until the chakra cloak dissipated and exhaustion settled into his bones. He heaved a sigh, sitting down on the water's surface and looking up at the older boy to express his relief. "You're alive. I thought…"

"Mm. It seems Fate…" he paused, swallowed whatever words he was going to say, and then continued, "…things did not go as I expected. Still"—he glanced down at Sasuke, shirt still clutched in his other hand—"despite everything, we retrieved Uchiha Sasuke and suffered no casualties. Our mission parameters were completed successfully."

Neji's last words rang in his ears. "We did it…" he whispered, overjoyed and tired and a million other emotions he couldn't put words to. They'd won…he'd won, despite all the naysayers. "Mission accomplished."

"I told Rōshi something was wrong."

Neither Fū nor Gaara responded, the pair unconscious against a tree trunk, heads leaning against one another for support. Utakata hurried over to them, checking for pulses and breathing in relief when their heartbeats – faint, fluttering, but there nonetheless – became apparent. Dark scarlet liberally painted their skin and clothes, though he couldn't tell how much was theirs. "I hope this isn't as bad as I think it is," he muttered, the trees his only audience. He pulled out his bubble blower and exhaled a sphere large enough to carry the two younger Jinchūriki. It floated over, settled on top of them, and then lifted, and Utakata began the long trek back to Konoha with the renegade Sand and Waterfall shinobi in tow.

Chapter Text

He'd been in self-imposed exile for two months when he finally made contact. His mindscape was surprisingly wet, water cascading upon the enormous form of a four-tailed ape with fur as red as his own short, shaggy strands. Twin, black-tipped, beige tusks framed an open maw of pointed teeth, like the picture of a walrus he'd once seen in a book, and a crest of bone-like material sat upon the creature's brow, a beige tiara with upward-pointing horns colored similar to its tusks. Leathery skin the color of ripe honeydew covered its hands, feet, ears, chest, and face, contrasting its vibrant crimson pelt.

Its muscular body was restrained by large manacles of some silvery metal around its wrists, biceps, and waist – steel, he assumed, based on the seal Mū had described using to secure the demon – forcing it into a subservient kneel with arms splayed wide. "So you're the Yonbi…"

"I HAVE A NAME!" the ape bellowed in a deep voice that resonated throughout the mindscape. "I AM SON GOKŪ, THE HANDSOME MONKEY KING OF SUIRENDŌ CAVE—"

"Do you think I care?" Rōshi cut in. Short arms were crossed over a small chest, an attempt to seem imposing when his 10-year-old stature was anything but.

Pupil-less orange eyes narrowed at the boy. "NO, WHY WOULD YOU?" the ape replied, baritone cynical yet measured. "HUMANS ARE TOO STUPID TO FATHOM ANYTHING BEYOND THEIR OWN NEEDS, AND ALL THEY NEED – OR THINK THEY NEED – IS POWER. MY POWER."

Rōshi scowled, the expression ill-suited for his childish features. "I'm not stupid!" he shot back. "But you're right about one thing: I'm here for your power."

The ape shrieked, its simian cry almost deafening. "I REFUSE! SOMEONE SO DISRESPECTFUL IS UNWORTHY OF MY POWER."

"Fine!" he spat, shouting to be heard over the ringing in his ears. The Yonbi was loud. "Then I'll figure it out myself!"

His mindscape disappeared, and Rōshi was left in the solitude of the cave he'd claimed as his temporary home. And without the Four-Tails' help, it was likely his shelter was going to be more permanent than he'd originally planned.

"Well, let's hear it."

"The mission was a success, Hokage-sama," Shikamaru reported. Naruto thought he sounded as bored as usual, though his normal slouch was absent, and his hands were laced in front of him rather than in his pockets. "While there were some…tribulations"—he appeared to stumble briefly over the word, the fact that Chōji, Kiba, Neji, and Lee had all been checked into the hospital upon returning to the Hidden Leaf a heavy burden—"there were no Konoha casualties. Uchiha Sasuke has been detained by T&I to determine the cause of his defection."

Tsunade steepled her hands and rested her chin on them, scrutinizing the two boys with half-lidded honey eyes. "I see… Well, your performance exceeded my expectations, so at the very least, I believe commendations are in order." Her cheeks flexed, crinkling at the corners, the only visible sign of a smile with her mouth hidden behind her hands. "Congratulations on a job well done." Naruto found himself beaming at the honest compliment, pride swelling in his chest. He'd known from Neji's words, but to hear the Hokage confirm the success of his mission felt better than he could have imagined. The Sannin's eyes flickered to focus specifically on the blond. "I believe you deserve a little more."

Her hands unclasped, and she reached into her desk, pulling something out and placing it on the wooden surface. Naruto stared at the black insignia of the Hidden Leaf engraved on the metal of the hitae-ate, words failing him. "Congratulations, Genin Uzumaki Naruto."

At that, he finally found his voice. "YEAH! Woo hoo, I did it!"

Tsunade flapped a hand at him, bemused and trying to hide it. "Alright, that's enough of that. If you want to keep making noise, get out of here and do it at the house. I've got work to do."

Like a cobra, Naruto's arm reached out and grabbed the forehead protector, afraid that if he left it unattended for too long, Tsunade would change her mind and take it back. For a moment, he handled the blue cloth and bright metal like fine glass, scared that one wrong move would break it. Hands shaking, he managed to bring the hitae-ate to his forehead and knot it at the back of his skull, looking up at the Sannin with an ear-to-ear grin. His vision blurred slightly. "You're the best, Tsunade! Er, Hokage-sama!" he corrected at both her and Shikamaru's arched eyebrow. He turned on his heels and practically skipped out of the office, interchangeably humming nonsense and cheering jubilantly.

When the door closed behind him, honey eyes narrowed and fixed upon Shikamaru once more. "These tribulations you mentioned…elaborate."

"There were four Oto-nin accompanying Sasuke," the Nara began. "Whenever we intercepted them, one would stay behind to stall us. From what I've gathered from my team, each one was capable of utilizing some sort of…extra chakra source that physically transformed them and significantly increased their power. Without intervention…" he paused, dark eyes unable to meet her steady gaze at the admission, "I'm not sure everyone on my team would have survived."

One blonde eyebrow rose in question. "Intervention?"

"There was a third and fourth party who assisted in dispatching the Oto-nin," he elaborated, once again finding the authority of his rank and returning it to his laconic timbre. "One was Sabaku no Gaara; he's a Genin from Suna who participated in the recent Chūnin Exams, and he was the lynchpin of the Suna-Oto attack. When I knew him, he was"—the Chūnin frowned—"well, psychotic would be polite. I wouldn't have expected him to ever come to the aid of another person, but he helped both Chōji and myself and afterwards worked with our team to neutralize a fifth Oto-nin who was not part of the original team. He said he was there to protect Naruto's friends, but before this mission, I hadn't seen Naruto in months."

"You're saying his presence there doesn't make sense."

"Why would a Suna-nin be this far into the Land of Fire, especially on his own, and how does he know Naruto, who wasn't even an official shinobi until five minutes ago?"

Tsunade hummed, and Shikamaru got the impression that she was only giving the appearance of thought. "And this fourth party?"

"Female, dark-skinned, short green hair, orange eyes. Neji said her hitae-ate suggested an affiliation with Taki, and Kiba said she introduced herself as Fū." Another hum, and this time Shikamaru's dark eyes narrowed. "Hokage-sama, do you know—"

"Thank you, Nara, that'll be all." Her voice was curt, the dismissal obvious. "I expect a detailed report as soon as you can get the full statements of your teammates; might take a couple of days until they're out of the hospital and able to talk, but until then, enjoy the time off."

Shikamaru bowed. "Yes, Hokage-sama."

Tsunade waited until the Chūnin left her office before rising and following him out at a clipped gait.

"Oh, Hokage, great timing. We—"

"Don't know how to listen and continue to cause me great inconvenience," Tsunade snapped, causing Utakata to visibly recoil, "yes, I'm well aware. Where are they?"

The Kiri-nin hurried to keep pace with the shorter woman, trying to get ahead and guide her even though she already seemed to know where she was going. "You're talking about Gaara and Fū, right? Because they need your help. They're in this room."

She opened the door he gestured to and offered him a sarcastic, "Great. Now get out." He jumped again, visible golden eye wide, and was about to protest when the Sannin shot him a venomous look. He hurried away at that, unwilling to test the blonde any further, and Tsunade shouted after him, "And find me Jiraiya! Pains in my ass," she muttered, shutting the door behind her. Turning on her heels revealed the prone forms of the two young Jinchūriki Shikamaru had described, each laid out carefully on their own bed. Utakata, as polite as he was, had likely done that. They looked almost peaceful, prostrate on the clean linens, if not for the dried blood coating their skin and soaking their clothes.

Grumbling to herself, the blonde approached Gaara's bedside first. The Sand Genin's physical and mental conditions were intricately interwoven, and while Tsunade had faith that the seal Jiraiya had placed on the boy to restrict the Ichibi's influence would hold, years of gambling had taught her that even the shortest of odds could be beaten. Glowing green chakra encased her hands before she ran them in a diagnostic scan over the redhead. "Three broken ribs, perforated lung, chakra depletion… For a kid who's supposedly never been injured before, you sure get hurt a lot." She forced her chakra to speed the growth of cells in his lungs, simultaneously disintegrating the tiny bone fragments there and repairing the perforated tissue. The scab covering the entry point fell away as fresh skin knitted the wound closed. His chest expanded, filling with air that could remain where it was intended, and a flicker of her honey eyes revealed a hint of color returning to his pale face. Her focus turned to his ribs, chakra directing the broken fragments back into place. She forced the pieces to adhere to his ribcage, pushing them through the weeks-long healing process in a matter of minutes, and then burned the growing infection from his body.

Satisfied with her work on the redhead, Tsunade moved to the green-haired girl's bed, staring down at her with an expression that warred between irritation and sympathy. The girl had proven to be notoriously difficult to keep track of, the only one of the six Jinchūriki under her roof to not subject herself to the conditional examinations and constantly remaining out of sight. She never seemed to go anywhere, just away, but her flightiness was…annoying. Tsunade remembered being young, but her early teenage years had been in the middle of the Second Shinobi World War, when there was no time for whimsy or disobeying orders (Jiraiya's…predilections…notwithstanding), so the Waterfall Jinchūriki's attitude made her a bit of a nuisance. Since there hadn't been any harm so far – and the Sannin had higher priorities with returning the village to its pre-invasion glory – she hadn't pressed, but now seemed like an opportune moment to finally dig into the mystery.

Caramel-colored skin was speckled with dark bruises, arms, legs, and midriff all laid bare by the sleeveless crop-top and thigh-length apron skirt, both white but for the blood liberally staining portions a deep crimson. A surficial scan revealed no open or clotted wounds, so it was likely the blood came from whoever she'd fought, or even Gaara, the blonde mused, sparing the prone boy a quick glance. Tsunade's brow furrowed as her examination deepened; the Taki-nin's internal organs were…she'd never seen anything like it before. There were pockets of cells throughout her body that were completely shredded, random sections of spleen, kidney, liver, and lungs blended to a fine powder. Even some of the nerves scattered throughout her limbs had been severed, though she couldn't tell how – or if – it had affected the girl's bodily functions.

She pushed chakra into the dead spots, unsure what would happen; after a moment, the cells began to slowly split, multiplying to replace the shredded ones. Her body eventually took to the forced mitosis like any other patient the Sannin had treated, and in short order, the Taki-nin's body was mending itself with just minor guidance from the blonde's chakra. Aside from the strange internal damage – and the external bruising – she seemed normal, which was, in of itself, unusual. While the group of Jinchūriki had shown no health abnormalities, the rest had a distinct, physical inhuman trait, not to mention the years of neglect and other psychological abuse they'd all endured. This girl…Tsunade couldn't yet judge her mental state, but by all accounts, she appeared as human as the Sannin herself (albeit not blessed with the pubescent growth the blonde had experienced in her youth).

Tsunade left the room to allow the pair in heal in solitude, crossing Jiraiya's path and interrupting her former teammate's impending question with a clipped, "Watch them. Come find me when they wake up."

Fū groaned into consciousness, stiff but feeling marginally better than when she'd last been awake. Her body was still recovering from her fight with Ukon or Sakon – whoever she'd killed – but the pins and needles feeling that had numbed her limbs and made carrying Gaara a heavy task only tickled now. Orange eyes opened slowly, the Taki-nin slowly attempting to leverage herself to a sitting position.

"She is awake."

Fū gave up moving to turn her head towards Gaara's dry monotone. The redhead was sitting on a bed maybe 10 feet from where she lay, his flat, teal gaze unrelenting. Beside him stood the large white-haired man from their group's first encounter with the Hokage in her office; his name escaped her, even as he opened his mouth and wryly offered, "Yes, I can see that." He walked towards the door, opened it, and said to someone outside her field of vision, "Can you grab Tsunade? Thanks." He returned to the room and stood at the foot of her bed. "Well little miss, I hear you had quite the adventure."

Orange eyes flickered to Gaara, as if seeking approval, but the Suna-nin seemed to miss her silent question, expression unchanged. She couldn't interpret his stony silence, but deciding that he would hopefully say something if she was in trouble, the green-haired girl quietly offered, "I wanted to meet Naruto. Gaara said we should help his friends."

"Did he now?" The older man sounded bemused, and he tossed the redhead a quirk of his lips. Gaara caught and held the glance, but didn't seem to share the other male's amusement, his face betraying no emotion. "Regardless, I'm not here to grill you. Just wanna make sure everything is in working order."

That raised several more questions, but Fū decided to ask the most prescient one on her mind. "How long was I asleep?"

"Rough estimate? Thirty hours. This one woke up yesterday"—he jerked his thumb at Gaara—"but refused to leave. Not that he had clearance from Tsunade anyway."

"I do not sleep," the Suna-nin intoned flatly, almost sounding annoyed, "and so did not 'wake up'. And I was waiting to introduce her to Naruto. That is what…friends do."

The white-haired man continued to grin, as if amused by a secret he was unwilling to share. "I see."

"Alright Jiraiya, that's enough. Let's get down to brass tacks."

Fū looked away from the two males and focused on the blonde woman across from her, her robust frame imposing in the doorframe. It had been a while since their last interaction, but her curt manner of speech was a stark reminder that she was far less free-spirited than her companion, authority cloaking her better than her green haori. "Um—"

"In case you forgot," she continued in a clipped voice, "I had rules regarding your, let's say, continued presence in my village. Putting aside the fact that you have been singularly evasive in submitting to a medical examination, I had also requested that you keep a low profile by staying within these four walls, something which the two of you saw fit to ignore."

"Your requirement was actually to stay away from the main portions of the village," Gaara corrected. Tsunade glared at him, and Jiraiya stifled a cough into his hand. Fū allowed herself a small grin at the redhead's capacity for bland observations, his direct manner slowly becoming a familiar comfort. He seemed unaffected by the Hokage's silent fuming, continuing in a monotone, "We ventured outside the village proper, and thus did not violate your stipulations."

"Semantics aside," she grit out, "the spirit of the rule was clear." She cleared her throat, features relaxing into a neutral expression. "However, preliminary reporting from my rescue squad indicates that you both played integral roles in saving the lives of my shinobi and successfully completing their mission, so for that, you have my gratitude." Gaara's expression remained unchanged, but Fū offered the older woman a hesitant smile that, for an instant, she thought the blonde returned. Then the ambivalent façade was back in place, and Tsunade continued, "Going forward, I'll stress the importance of being discrete, wherever you are and whatever your intentions."

"Yes Hokage-sama," Fū murmured. The Sannin shot a hard look at Gaara, who merely returned the gesture with his patented blankness. They engaged in a momentary stare-off, which the Suna-nin seemed unaware he was participating in, and then Tsunade broke eye contact with a grunt.

"Now that that's out of the way," the blonde announced, turning back to the Waterfall kunoichi, "let's discuss the remaining issues. I performed a medical scan while you were unconscious, and, aside from the injuries you received on your self-ascribed mission, I didn't notice anything out of the ordinary physiologically, although this assumes that whatever you did to your cells was self-inflicted by some jutsu."

"What did I do-ssu?"

Honey eyes narrowed. "Sporadic areas of cells and nerves throughout your body were, for lack of a better word, eviscerated. I honestly wasn't sure whether you could be healed, but I guess your body is used to whatever you did, because with only the slightest prompting, your cells began to regenerate. I've assumed that your body is either acclimated to whatever jutsu you used or it's part of your Jinchūriki power."

Her tone carried the same threatening edge that was becoming a familiar facet of her authoritative village-leader role, and Fū found herself admitting, "I, um, haven't used that jutsu before. I don't know if I'd even call it a jutsu-ssu? He was in me," she cried, barreling through Tsunade's alarmed expression, "I had to do something! You don't know what it felt like!"

"You don't have to defend what you did." Tsunade placed a hand as gentle as her tone on the younger girl's shoulder and was relieved when she didn't recoil; it likely meant there was some other context to her words than what they implied. "For now, let's assume that you made the decision appropriate for the situation." There was a moment of silence while the green-haired girl was allowed to compose herself, and – not for the first time – the blonde wondered at what quality of life she'd lived, that all the Jinchūriki had lived. Temporarily pushing that feeling to the side, she continued, "If you'll allow it, I'd like Jiraiya to perform an examination of your seal. Given your recent experience, I would understand if you'd prefer to post—"

"No—no, I'm okay."

Jiraiya stepped forward then, lacing his fingers together and stretching them out until they gave a loud crack. "Don't worry, little miss, this should be simple and painless. Kid," he said with a sideways look at Gaara, "if there's nothing else, I think it's time you head out."

"I would like to stay."

"I want him to stay!" Fū asserted at the same time. Their simultaneous calls – one emotionless and dry, the other pitched and slightly desperate – echoed in the small room. The two Sannin exchanged glances, and the Taki-nin, abashed, added, "Please?"

"You said you would teach me fūinjutsu," Gaara intoned. "This seems an ample introductory lesson."

"Fūinjutsu lessons, Jiraiya?" Tsunade growled, honey eyes narrowing.

"What can I say, hime? The kid asked."

"Just…" she sighed, seemingly defeated despite her irritation, "get on with it."

"Well, guess we gotta start you somewhere, huh kid? C'mere." Fū watched the white-haired man and her fellow Jinchūriki approach her bedside; Jiraiya offered what was supposed to be a reassuring smile, though she somehow felt more reassured by Gaara's stoicism. They were…friends, and that gave her confidence. "Alright, just relax."

She slumped to a supine position, orange eyes tracking the older man's movements around her bed. Gaara remained stationary on her left side, though his teal eyes followed the Sannin even closer than she did. With a single finger, Jiraiya touched her abdomen, and Fū felt a sudden warmth emanating from her belly. He let out a low whistle, and even Gaara made a noncommittal noise that the Taki-nin thought sounded impressed. "What, what? Is it bad? What's it look like?"

"It's hard to describe—" Jiraiya began.

"Like this," Gaara stated, and sand slithered into the air in a complex pattern of swirls and squiggles. Fū couldn't stop the gasp that escaped her lips, trying to decipher the mess of silica symbols drawn in midair. She didn't recognize any of characters, arranged in two concentric starburst patterns with a single line swirling counterclockwise from the very center until it filled the circular edge of the inner starburst.

"Well that's useful," Jiraiya muttered. He hummed to himself, poking at the grains of sand. "See this, kid?" He gestured to the inner starburst with one large finger, tracing its shape. "This is a Shishō Fūin. It's the backbone of the Uzumaki clan's fūinjutsu, and—"

"Uzumaki?" Gaara interrupted. "Like Naruto?"

"One and the same. In fact, the design itself is almost a dead ringer for Naruto's seal, but…how? The knowledge of this sealing methodology should be extinct; Naruto only has it because of Kushina and Minato. Surely Taki doesn't have access to that kind of expertise."

"I don't know."

"Ah, that wasn't directed at you, little miss." Jiraiya offered her a broad smile that, even to Fū's untrained eyes, looked a touch brittle. He grew thoughtful, stroking his chin with one hand and mumbling to himself, and when he finally looked up to find Tsunade's gaze, his expression was carefully controlled, nothing like the jocular, easygoing man from earlier. "Tsunade, if you ask me, there's no danger posed by her seal. Honestly, I think her seal is the most stable of all of them."

One blonde eyebrow rose. "Really?"

"See this?" He pointed to the outer starburst pattern, following its design with his finger. "This is an extra layer added to what Naruto currently has, which is already stable—"

"Not from what I hear."

"Oh? I'd like to hear more about that later. Regardless, think of each seal as a door with a different lock. Naruto's seal basically has one lock, but this seal has two. There's also an additional component." This time, he pointed to the swirl spiraling out from the center of the design. "See this? On Naruto's seal, it goes the other way, clockwise. It's designed in such a way to allow him to grow with the Kyūbi's chakra mixing with his own. Here, it's the exact opposite; everything is made in such a way so that the Bijū sealed within remains far, far away from the young lady here. For all intents and purposes, she's as human as you or I."

Jiraiya continued talking, but his words sounded muffled, distant, lost behind his last declaration. Human… I'm…human-ssu?

It didn't make sense. If she was human, why was it that no one in the Hidden Waterfall had treated her as such? She'd been a blight on the citizens of her former home, exiled to watch over but not be a part of it, cursed by the Elders to bear a burden no one wanted to explain. It felt especially ironic considering her recent decision to embrace her Jinchūriki title, an appeal to the short list of people who could understand what it was like to be reviled for something beyond their control. And now, to be told that the one trait that identified those she wanted to associate with was no more than a…a title allowing her to masquerade as one of them was like regressing to before her epiphany. No matter what she tried, or how she appeared, she wasn't human, and it seemed like she couldn't even claim to be a demon in the same way as her fellows. So where did that leave her?

Gaara's pale face entered her field of vision, peering at her with expressionless teal eyes. "You are as you are," he intoned, and though his timbre lacked affect, Fū thought his intention was to be reassuring. "To change takes time…and desire."

Fū sniffed to forestall the tears that threatened to leak from her eyes. For as cold and empty as his chakra felt, Gaara was proving to be a faithful friend. "Mm."

"I'd like to do some more comparisons of her seal and Naruto's," Jiraiya was saying. He seemed to be wrapping up his conversation with Tsunade. "There's a lot we can learn from studying two different Uzumaki-style seals that have two completely different purposes. But that can come later. In the interim, I don't think there's anything wrong with releasing her to mingle with the other…guests."

Tsunade hummed in thought and nodded her head. "Very well. That's all for now, Jiraiya. Take Gaara with you; I don't want him in my way."

Fū watched Jiraiya move towards the door, but Gaara's teal eyes remained fixed on her. The older man turned back towards him and, when it became apparent the redhead wasn't going to move, placed a hand on his shoulder. Gaara's gaze swung with startling alacrity to the Sannin, the sand hanging in the air swirling around him like a cloud of wasps. She called his name, and the Suna-nin turned back to her, expression intense. "Go. It's okay."

There was a long moment where the two Jinchūriki stared at each other, and from her periphery, Fū could see Jiraiya's muddy eyes flickering between them. Then the surrounding sand stopped twitching and settled into the gourd on the redhead's back; Gaara broke eye contact and walked to the exit in silence. Jiraiya followed him with a shrug and a careless farewell wave. When just Tsunade and Fū remained, the blonde took a seat in the chair beside her bed and laced her fingers together in her lap. "Now that it's quiet, let's talk." The Sannin's voice was low, but Fū got the distinct impression that it was a command, not a request. "I'd like to hear about what happened on your mission. Leave nothing out."

And so Fū opened her mouth and began to talk.

Rōshi watched from afar as Naruto conversed with a brown-haired boy his age and height wearing a grey jacket trimmed with dark fur on the sleeve cuffs and around the hood. It was the third visitor the blond had received in as many days, and the Iwa-nin had watched them all arrive, speak with the younger Jinchūriki, and then depart with a friendly wave, one after another; with each one, Naruto seemed to grow increasingly chipper, and Rōshi found his scowl deepening proportionally to the Leaf native's good mood. It wasn't natural for a Jinchūriki to be so happy; at least before, when it had just been him and Utakata training the boy, Naruto's strange positivity had been punctuated by periods of annoyance, pride, anger, calm…emotions other than this persistent and unyielding joy.

If he was trying to make up for the rest of the Jinchūriki being so dour, he was doing his damnedest, though knowing how stupid the blond was, it was more likely just a function of who he was. It was little wonder Rōshi preferred the company of Han, whose anger was justified, or even Utakata, who was (at worst) more naively optimistic than happy.

The brown-haired boy fist-bumped Naruto and then left the complex. Gaara approached from the shadows of the compound and seemed to take over where the blond's conversation had left off. It wasn't the first time Rōshi had seen the two interact in this way – Naruto yammering excitedly while the Suna-nin mostly listened – but watching his fellow redhead choose to engage in basic human interaction with what (arguably limited) information he had on the current (and prior) One-Tail Jinchūriki just seemed…strange. He was changing, that much was obvious, and even knowing that Rōshi himself had changed since meeting the other Jinchūriki didn't stop him from being curious as to how this boy – more broken than him – was making such great strides in self-improvement.

So he walked forward to interpose himself in their conversation, lifting a hand in response when Naruto cheerily shouted, "Hey Rōshi-oji!"

He exchanged a nod with Gaara when the younger redhead bobbed his head once in greeting. "Yer pop'lar lately, ain't yeh?"

"Heh, when you're as great as I am, everyone wants to know you!" Rōshi arched an eyebrow, and Naruto had enough self-awareness to look embarrassed; he'd never impressed the redhead with his boasting before, and force of habit wasn't going to elicit any different reaction. "Kiba and I were just on a mission together. He was just askin' about how I got Sasuke back."

"An' what'd yeh tell 'im?"

"That I've been trainin' my ass off since graduation and I'm way better than that stuck-up bastard now."

Rōshi rolled his eyes, though his lips quirked with mild amusement. "Mebbe someone'll finally believe yeh."

"He did not do it alone," Gaara stated. "We provided assistance."

Rōshi released a long-suffering sigh. "So that's why Tsunade's been pissed somethin' fierce, eh? An' who's 'we'?"

"Myself and Fū." The name was vaguely familiar, and Rōshi had a brief recollection of it falling from Utakata's mouth in a hurried, whispered bid for kindness and sanctuary. Gaara looked towards the compound's entrance, and as if plucked from his memory, a girl with caramel-colored skin and mint green hair cut above her shoulders stepped out from the shadowed enclave. Her eyes were downcast, and a blanket cloaked most of her body, adding to the appearance of a withdrawn little girl. She stopped just shy of the clustered trio, and Gaara continued as if her appearance and subsequent walk hadn't spanned a full minute, "Naruto, this is Fū. She desires your friendship."

"Gaara!" Fū sounded horrified. Or maybe embarrassed, he couldn't tell.

"You're the one who helped Kiba, right?" Naruto was peering at her curiously, and Fū only seemed capable of a hesitant nod in answer to his question. Then the blond's face broke into a wide smile. "You're awesome! Kiba was sayin' how you helped him kick the ass of that two-headed Oto-nin." Each word moved him progressively closer to her, until his bright grin was inches from her wide orange eyes. "Uzumaki Naruto, future Hokage! Nice to meetcha, Fū. Thanks for all the help."

And just like that, Fū's hesitation disappeared, replaced with her own beatific smile. "I'm just glad everything turned out okay."

How's he do it? It was a marvel that Naruto could ease someone's state of mind with just a few words and a sunny disposition, neither of which any other Jinchūriki could manage. Rōshi wasn't even confident his niece could swing someone from one end of the emotional spectrum to the opposite as easily as Naruto did, and her life was far less burdened than his.

They were chatting amicably now, companions with a lifetime of shared history, and Rōshi found he could only shake his head at the turn of events. The sound of rustling clothes drew the redhead's attention, and he tilted his neck just enough to spy Utakata in his periphery. "I'm glad that she's finally talking to someone," the Kiri-nin said. Relief was evident in his voice. "Maybe now she won't be so angry."

"Aye, there's already enough o' that."

Utakata stared at him for a moment, looking vaguely bemused. "Was that a joke?"

Rōshi was grateful he didn't have to respond to the younger Jinchūriki's smarm, for Jiraiya appeared from the compound with a single clap of his hands and loudly stated, "Oh good, you're all here." A quick glance to the side showed Han leaning against the building's wall with his arms crossed over his armored chest, the eaves shadowing the upper half of his body. His attention returned to Jiraiya as the Sannin continued, "Now that I have some more details of the so-called Sasuke Retrieval Mission, I think we should have a discussion about what comes next."

Utakata cleared his throat. "Sorry, what do you mean?"

"Well!" Jiraiya replied, as cheerful as Naruto, and Rōshi wondered if that kind of joy was just an affliction all Leaf shinobi were cursed with. "Someone decided to tap into their Bijū's chakra, a heretofore unprecedented event, and one which cannot be ignored. So, as a result, we're going to learn how best to utilize and, more importantly, control this power. To that end, I'd like to discuss how the rest of you have learned to use your Bijū's chakra, or, in the alternative, discuss strategies to prevent losing control. Obviously this one doesn't have much to contribute," he added, jerking a thumb at Gaara, who (to the boy's credit) didn't react to the gibe, "so who'd like to start?"

The nearby Jinchūriki exchanged glances, even Naruto unusually quiet – apparently reading the somber mood – and then Utakata cleared his throat again. "We can communicate with the Bijū. In our heads, in a…mindscape, I guess you'd say. Yagura…" his voice caught, Adam's apple bobbing with a hard swallow, "he said that the way to use the Bijū's power was to talk with them, come to an understanding—"

"That's got ter be th' dumbest—"

"Dumber than trying to gather the Jinchūriki?" argued the Kiri-nin. "Or staying to train Naruto? Or any one of the other half-dozen ideas I've had that's worked out?"

"Yer talkin' 'bout makin' friends with a demon!" Rōshi snarled.

"Yagura's the Mizukage and the only one among us who has full control of his Bijū, so I think he knows what he's talking about in this instance!"

"Yeh don' make a deal with th' devil!"

"Okay, gents," Jiraiya interceded, "let's put a pin in this and take five. I'm not particularly interested in mediating this kind of conflict."

Rōshi let out an irritated huff and then turned and stormed off towards where Han was leaning against the building's wall. The armored shinobi watched him approach with brown eyes shadowed by his red kasa. "You're not always right, you know."

He closed one eye and turned slightly to glare at the steam-user with the other. "Yer takin' his side?"

"You're the one who wants to make allies and amends," the giant noted sardonically. "Unless your words ring as hollow now as they always have."

The redhead's open eye narrowed perceptibly; it was a blatant call-out by his fellow Rock shinobi. "What's yer point?"

"I already told you – you're not always right. Why not prove that you're not too old to learn something new?" Rōshi scoffed quietly, closing his other eye in a bid to block out his surroundings and focus on calming his pricked temper. "Hey," Han said, his deep voice not quite a bark but no less authoritative. The lava-user opened his eyes to give the younger male his attention, but the Five-Tails' Jinchūriki was looking straight ahead, and when Rōshi followed his gaze, he spied Fū walking towards them, expression as downcast as it had been when she'd originally joined them outside. She didn't respond to his call, so Han uttered, "Girl," and she looked up at the pair with startled orange eyes. "Where are you going?"

"Inside," came the quiet response. She'd reverted back to her withdrawn persona, perhaps intimidated by how different the pair of Hidden Rock Jinchūriki were from her peers.

"Why?"

"I can't—I'm not…" she gesticulated randomly, unaware of what point she was trying to make. Her voice dropped even lower, a secret she was ashamed to divulge, "…like you. I can't learn to use my…Bijū's"—the word seemed to physically choke the air from her lungs, a mixture of unfamiliarity and tepid admittance—"ability. What you're doing…it's impossible. I don't belong—"

She quieted as Han pushed himself off the wall and moved towards the green-haired girl with heavy steps. To her credit, Fū remained where she was as the giant approached, his height nearly double hers. "A month ago," he stated, the steadiness of his baritone surprising Rōshi, "this entire situation would have been considered impossible. Whether you can use it now or not is irrelevant. You're a Jinchūriki"—she twitched a little—"if you belong anywhere, it is here."

It surprised the redhead even more when Fū graced the taller Iwa-nin with a tentative smile, apparently finding comfort in his words. Han raised a hand and placed it atop her scalp; Rōshi thought he might tousle her hair, as strange as the gesture would have been – both because it was Han doing it and because of the situation itself – but he simply guided her head so that she slowly turned with the motion until she was facing the way she'd come from. She seemed to accept his suggestion as a command, walking back to where the group of younger Jinchūriki were deep in conversation with Jiraiya. "That was kind o' yeh," Rōshi observed.

Han grunted. "Do you know about the mission they were on?" Rōshi scoffed; it wasn't of any importance to him what the shinobi of the Leaf did, or the stupid decisions the younger and more impetuous Jinchūriki made. "They fought shinobi of Otogakure."

He failed to see the relevance. "So?"

The Gobi Jinchūriki merely stared in response. Despite his natural impatience, Rōshi didn't push for an answer, knowing that anything Han had given over the last month and would continue to give going forward was an improvement over his attitude from when they'd left Iwa. After a long minute, Han made a noncommittal noise and then turned to face the other gathered Jinchūriki. "It's of interest."

Rōshi rolled his eyes. "Pft. Fine. Keep yer secrets." A call of his name drew his focus to the younger demon containers, where Naruto was waving one arm enthusiastically in a bid for the redhead's attention. With a shake of his head, he left the armored giant to his own devices and wandered towards his summoner, stepping up to the group and crossing his arms over his chest while five pairs of eyes watched. "Aye?"

"We'd like to hear your method of training," Jiraiya said, "if you wouldn't mind sharing."

"An' what changed yer mind?"

"Stupid fox doesn't wanna talk," Naruto complained, lips turned in a dour frown.

"The Kyūbi has not been…receptive…to my methods," Utakata admitted.

"Shockin'," was the redhead's wry retort. "Prob'bly better that way. I ain't one fer th' buddy-buddy way o' doin' it."

Utakata frowned at the gibe, and the corner of Rōshi's lips quirked in response; it was always fun to rile the brunet. "Rōshi," Jiraiya prompted, "your method?"

Rōshi spared him a long look, reading nothing off the white-haired man's carefully neutral expression. The Sannin was a man to be respected – the Iwa-nin's brief history with him bore that out – and he seemed to be invested in all the Jinchūriki, not just Naruto, which was…novel. He wasn't used to people caring about him – about any jailor of a Tailed Beast – especially if that someone was his age, jaded by two Great Shinobi World Wars and all the heartache and devastation associated with them. It was dangerous to trust anyone, especially someone who'd once been an enemy – and certainly wasn't a friend, even under these strange circumstances – but the Konoha-nin could probably be trusted with this. "Yeh take it."

Jiraiya let out a long-suffering sigh that seemed out of place considering he wasn't the one who had to steal a Bijū's chakra. "Yeah, I was afraid you'd say that. Nothing's ever easy with you."

"Sorry," Utakata interjected, "you just…take it?" The lava-user thought he sounded deeply offended by the suggestion, his delicate sensibility overrun by sheer impropriety. It was another reminder of how different the worlds they came from were, separated by generations and cultures that had been at odds since before they were born. "Did you ever think that's why you have such a terrible relationship with the Yonbi?"

"D'yeh think I care?" the redhead retorted. "Yer way didn' work, so jus' sit back an' shut up." He turned to give Naruto his full attention, ignoring the mixture of irritation and disapproval that painted the brunet's pale features. When he spoke again, his gruff voice lacked its usual edge. "Yeh used its power afore, aye? Didn' ask, didn' plan, jus' took it, aye?" At Naruto's nod, he continued, "Then yeh jus' need ter remember how it felt ter use it, an' do it again."

Naruto looked distinctly uncomfortable at his words. Jiraiya must have noticed as well, for he asked, "You remember how it felt, right?"

"Uh, well…not really? Like, I got real pissed 'cause Sasuke was being an asshole, and then it just, I dunno, came out."

"Like how I taught yeh Katon?"

"Yeah…yeah, kinda. It was like I could feel everything! There was this really dark presence; I think it was comin' from Sasuke. And the water felt real comfortable, and the earth—"

"Yeh could feel th' earth?" Naruto nodded eagerly. "An' th' heat?"

Another nod, then: "I could use Yōton, too. Super easily."

Rōshi smirked, then turned to face Utakata. "Yeh ever feel like that when yeh use th' Rokubi's chakra?"

The brunet blinked, clearly surprised to be addressed after having been dismissed. "Well…sure, I suppose so. Not in the same way – there's no heat – but it's like…I can feel how things are tied together. Chemically, like their energy, or their composition. It's easier with liquids, that's why I like bubbles or water – solids are more inert, and gas is more volatile – but—"

"Yeh see," Rōshi interrupted, directing his speech back at Naruto, "that's th' power o' th' Bijū. Yeh take their power, yeh control nature."

Awe painted Naruto's features, the same wide-eyed, slack-jawed expression that had colored the blond's face dozens of times before when the Iwa- or Kiri-nin had displayed some talent he'd found amazing. Jiraiya was cupping his chin in thought. "Huh, what an interesting way to look at things," he mused. "The Kyūbi's always been described as a force of nature, or a natural disaster, or a harbinger of one anyway. It always sounded like an old wives' tale, but maybe there's more truth to the stories than we thought."

"Yeh should feel its chakra," the redhead said. "Prob'bly feels like a mix o' ev'rythin'…hot an' boilin' an'…" Dark eyes shifted over to Gaara, studying his position on the group's outskirts for just a moment. "Mebbe a bit electric."

"I can feel it-ssu," Fū piped up. Her voice was quiet, and she seemed to shrink away from the eyes that focused on her, but an utterance of her name by Gaara straightened her spine and bolstered her confidence. When she spoke again, it was with a firmness he hadn't yet seen from her. "It's kind of like all of that…and more. I don't really know how to describe it."

"Yer a sensor, eh? That's all kinds o' useful. Yeh can tell 'im when he's got it, assumin' he can't figure it out 'imself."

Naruto seemed to recognize the Yonbi Jinchūriki's tone, for his brow furrowed in concentration as he tried to – presumably – tap into the Kyūbi's chakra. Rōshi's dark eyes wandered around to observe the other Jinchūriki as their attention turned to the blond. Utakata was watching the younger boy speculatively, right hand cupped over his mouth in silent, hidden appraisal. The redhead could guess the Kiri-nin's thoughts, likely an echo of his earlier disapproval over the Iwa-nin's training methodology; it was familiar territory for the pair, though to the teenager's credit, it had been a while since they'd publicly disagreed. His gaze carried over to Fū, who was watching Naruto with an intensity that rivaled the blond's own during a training session, and then Gaara, whose expressionless visage remained as unsettling as the lava-user's memory of his predecessor's black-rimmed stare. And yet…they seemed to draw strength from each other, and while he knew nothing of the green-haired girl, it was nothing short of baffling to see a jailor of the Ichibi interact positively with another living being.

Rōshi mused on the inanity of it all, on how different things were from what he knew, all of them silent sentinels to the Leaf native's struggles. They stood, watching, for almost an hour, Jiraiya intermittently offering pearls of wisdom for something beyond his comprehension and Fū making minor suggestions, until finally the kunoichi gasped and red-orange chakra sprang to life around the blond. She shivered as if chilled by a winter wind and moved to stand behind Gaara, putting the redhead between herself and Naruto. Jiraiya whistled. "Hoo boy, I'm no sensor, but even I can feel that. Glad I put up that barrier earlier, or all of Konoha'd be freaking out. So kid, now the question is: what can you do with it?"

Utakata looked ready to protest, but Rōshi shot him a scowl that had the brunet biting back his concerns. The redhead returned his attention to Naruto in time to see the younger boy form twin balls of lava in his hands and then pitch them towards the nearby pond. Steam erupted at the impact, then floated towards them in an unnatural path, washing them in humid air.

Rōshi kept a cautious eye on the vapor drowning them in heat, his fight with Han a reminder to be wary of steam in the hands of a Futton-user. It appeared to sway in the still air, matching the back-and-forth flick of the orange-red fox tail sprouting from the base of Naruto's spine. Jiraiya made a noise the redhead thought might be derision. "All that just for a trip to the sauna? C'mon kid, let's see what you've really got."

Naruto rushed the white-haired man with a burst of speed that surpassed anything he'd shown in the months of training with the two older Jinchūriki. Jiraiya bent his knees and delivered a palm strike to the Leaf Genin's jaw that momentarily stunned the boy, then kicked up into the blond's sternum. He growled as the blow lifted him off the ground, hands cupped together with a miasma of red-orange chakra coalescing between them.

The chakra formed into a blackened sphere fractured by cracks of molten yellow-orange, a perfect – if smaller – replica of the Yonbi Jinchūriki's Scorching Stream Rock Technique. It shot from his palms, the Kyūbi's chakra already forming another, and Jiraiya began to hop from side to side to avoid each projectile. Even as gravity brought him to the earth, Naruto continued to form and fire balls of molten rock from his palms, each sphere getting larger and larger until Jiraiya was forced to hold his arm out and call chakra to his hand, a compressed sphere of bright blue whirling into existence.

Rōshi stared at the ball, a shiver of apprehension tickling down his spine. Rasengan… It had been a long time since he'd born witness to the Fourth Hokage's second trademark technique, and the fact that it still had an effect on him, well over a decade later, was a testament to its legacy.

Jiraiya leaped towards the blond with the Rasengan stretched forward, blowing the Scorching Stream Rock Technique into a shower of heated debris and charging into Naruto's personal space. The formation of another molten sphere was abandoned as the Rasengan came within inches of the boy, lava absorbed into the Sannin's blue chakra and spilling around them in viscous globules.

Naruto leaned backwards, using his tail as a fulcrum so his body was parallel to the ground, and planted both legs into the older man's chest. Jiraiya grunted, stumbled backwards, then straightened up and laughed. "Well, can't say I expected that. Tricky little thing. Fine then, let's try this. Doton: Dosekidake!"

Spikes of earth erupted from the ground from every direction surrounding the blond, each point lancing towards the boy with speedy precision. The Jinchūriki avoided the first two, but the third sliced across his bicep, the fourth impaled his thigh, and then a second tail sprouted next to the first one and twisted the boy into a controlled spin that broke each incoming spire of the Earth and Stone Bamboo Shoot technique.

Behind Gaara, Fū seemed to shrink into herself a little more, orange eyes wide. Utakata stepped closer. "Rōshi…"

"Aye, I ain't blind," returned the redhead, his normal scorn absent. Dark eyes flickered between Naruto's two-tailed form and Jiraiya, the pair dancing around each other. "Jiraiya ain't one ter go down easy. Jus' wait."

"Doton: Yomi Numa!"

The ground in a 20-foot radius of the blond turned to sludge as the Swamp of the Underworld took effect. Naruto howled, and the muck transformed into water – the sediments dropping out – and then began to evaporate, steam rising from the makeshift pond as a third tail grew from the Kyūbi's chakra. It choked the air from their lungs, Fū reaching for her throat and falling against Gaara, whose normally ambivalent expression was beginning to look pained.

Rōshi flared his own chakra, saturating the air with an intense heat that dried out the humidity and left the group sweating but able to breathe. Though he kept his focus on maintaining the shroud of heat that was preventing the superheated steam from harming them, the redhead's attention was drawn to the compound, where the clinking of Han's sectional armor was growing into a cacophony. His own curved daggers were straining against their holsters, the metal in their vicinity reacting to a powerful force. Even Jiraiya seemed to notice, letting out another boisterous laugh and joyously prodding, "Yeah, now we're gettin' somewhere! What can you do at this stage, I wonder?"

In a frenetic whisper, Utakata urged, "Rōshi, don't you think—?"

"Are yeh daft?!" the redhead shouted at Jiraiya. Beside him, Utakata took a surprised step back, apparently shocked the older Jinchūriki was finally intervening. "This trainin's gone too far, Jiraiya! Yeh don' piss off a Jinchūriki!"

"What's the worst that could—ngh!"

Naruto's blitz sent the white-haired man careening backwards until he struck an invisible barrier and slumped to the ground. He lifted his head, only to have the blond appear before him and deliver a hammerblow of hardened lava to his skull. His face hit the ground, then was lifted of its own accord by what felt like the pull of his forehead protector. One animalistic claw slashed a series of lines across his cheek, each cut burning like acid.

Jiraiya disappeared in a quick Body Flicker as Naruto launched a flurry of incensed attacks. His thumb swiped a drop of blood from his cheek, fingers blurring through seals even as the blond twisted to face him; he slammed his palm against the ground with a cry of, "Kuchiyose no Jutsu!" as the demonic Genin rushed forward, ramming into a bear-sized orange toad bearing metallic bracers that exploded into white smoke upon impact. The Sannin's hair tripled in size and twined itself protectively around him, its natural unkemptness hardening into spikes that Naruto appeared poised to break through.

"Fungōkyaku!"

Han's Erupting Strong Foot caught the younger Jinchūriki and sent him careening into the same invisible barrier Jiraiya had hit earlier. The older man's hair shrank, dark eyes peering at the armored shinobi curiously. "That's one beastly kick."

"You're in over your head," Han informed him, baritone frigid. He kept the Sannin at his back, maintaining a watchful eye on the Nine-Tails' Jinchūriki. "Whatever your intentions, you do not goad a Jinchūriki, especially not one who is inexperienced in controlling their Bijū."

"Heh, maybe I did go a little too far."

Naruto bellowed in fury, bubbling orange-red becoming shrouded in black as his skin began to peel off, blood vaporizing and darkening his chakra cloak. "Yes," Han agreed in the same unyielding tone. Steam erupted from his armor with a hiss of depressurization nearly lost among the continued clinking of the metal pieces. The steam propelled him forward as the miasma of dark chakra around the blond grew. "Funsuiken!"

He clotheslined the Genin, knocking him backwards against the barrier again. The vapor surrounding them seemed to react to the boy's mutating chakra, a power struggle between originator and manipulator, and then Han reached through the foul chakra to cover the boy's face with his palm, thick fingers clutching his temples, and slammed the blond's head into the barrier. Naruto howled, claws and tails lashing out against scarlet armor without success, and more steam erupted from the armor as the Iwa-nin repeatedly battered his skull against the invisible wall with concussive force.

Naruto's chakra cloak dissipated as the continuous blows finally rendered him unconscious. Han let the beaten boy drop unceremoniously to the ground, then turned to face Jiraiya and warningly intoned, "You are lucky he could be contained before entering his Version 2 state."

One white eyebrow arched in curiosity. "And what, pray tell, is a Version 2 state?"

The steam-user didn't immediately respond, staring Jiraiya down with an intensity that Rōshi assumed his fellow Rock shinobi thought was intimidating. Maybe it was, he mused, but the Sannin was unaffected, hardened – like Rōshi himself – by too many decades of life to flinch at a stern look. For a long moment, all was quiet, the gathered Jinchūriki watching the standoff with bated breath.

Then, chakra exploded from the armored shinobi, his massive form falling to all fours as a skin of red and black encompassed him, leaving round white eyes devoid of humanity. Five long tails twitched behind him, breath steaming out from an open maw framed by serrated teeth. Rōshi shuddered as Han's chakra washed over them all, a simian shriek he hadn't heard in years echoing within his skull. He brought a hand to his temple, disguising the motion by scratching at his red hair, forcing dark eyes to focus on the other demon containers.

Utakata, to his credit (and the redhead's surprise), was silent, only a speculative look and slightly pallid tone to his already pale skin belying his reaction. Fū looked to be on the verge of throwing up, sweat dripping down her face and pallor notably off-color; the sensation of so much demonic energy, especially to someone so sensitive to chakra, was likely overpowering. Beside her, Gaara's expression appeared…hungry, the naked desire on the boy's normally unflappable features a concerning regression in the face of all the progress Rōshi had noted throughout the day.

"Han!" he snapped. "Yeh've proved yer point."

And just like that, the oppressive chakra disappeared, and Han rose smoothly to his feet, right hand sliding beneath his gi to rest over his heart as he walked past a pensive Jiraiya and towards the compound. He paused next to Rōshi and muttered darkly, "And so Konoha is like all the rest, looking for ways to increase its presence on the world stage by any means necessary. How reassuring."

"Yeh stopped 'im, didn' yeh?"

"I shouldn't have to," was the giant's acerbic retort, "and I won't again."

Rōshi's eyes followed him as he returned to the shadow of the overhang, only to be distracted by Jiraiya taking his fellow Iwa-nin's place, looking far too nonchalant for what they'd all just experienced. "Well, that was…something," admitted the Sannin. "I'm a big enough man to admit that I took that farther than I should've."

"Yeh think so?" Sarcasm oozed past his lips. "Mebbe that's 'cause I tol' yeh that yeh took it too far."

"To be fair, I had no idea what would happen. Konoha's never invested effort to train its Jinchūriki to that extent before."

"So why start now?"

"Akatsuki's out there looking for all of you, doing who knows what, and they're not to be trifled with. I'd feel better knowing the kid's got an ace up his sleeve to help him out of a sticky situation rather than risk him getting captured because we were all too scared of what the Kyūbi could do to find out what Naruto can do. Besides, who better than you guys to help teach him how to control a Bijū? And now we at least know some of the lengths we can take the kid's training." Rōshi let out another annoyed huff, recognizing the Leaf shinobi's point yet too stubborn to admit it aloud. "Anyway, I think that's enough for now. I'll come up with a better training regimen in the future. In the meantime…" he reached into his vest and pulled out a small scroll, holding it out to the redhead. "Do me a favor and give this to the kid when he wakes up. Little 'congrats' present for making Genin. Slightly belated birthday gift, too, I guess," he mused to himself.

"I ain't yer erran' boy."

"True, which is why I said it was a favor. I've gotta go take care of some more pressing business, otherwise I'd do it myself." Rōshi raised a skeptical eyebrow, and Jiraiya grinned at him. "You're not gonna make me beg, are you?"

"Hmph." He took the scroll and tucked it into his own shirt for safekeeping. "Whatever yeh say."

Jiraiya tossed him a jaunty salute and then strolled out the Senju complex, leaving Rōshi surrounded by five Jinchūriki in various states of emotional and physical turmoil. He inhaled heavily through his nose, suddenly exhausted. That could o' gone better.

Chapter Text

The white masks of the Mist ANBU – plain but for a single, colored shape, each one unique to its wearer – remained immobile as he approached. The Administrative Building was an impressive, stout cylinder of red-roofed shingles decorating two stories arranged like the bread layers of a sandwich. Between them was a layer of square windows tinted so that the sunlight shone blue against them, preventing anyone from seeing in, but giving the Mizukage an ideal vantage point to watch over the village.

Yagura was there now, perhaps watching his approach.

Utakata continued walking forward, furtively glancing at the looming archway that marked the building's entrance. A fluttering mixture of excitement and nerves built in his gut as the heavy wooden doors appeared more imposing with each step.

He never even heard the swords leave their sheaths, but the pair of katanas barring his path sent his stomach tumbling with dread. "Step back," ordered one of the ANBU.

"I'm here to be assessed as the Mizukage's bodyguard," he replied cordially.

"You're ineligible."

"I didn't realize there were requisites to apply." The brunet's voice was an echo of his master Harusame, neutral yet leading.

"There aren't. You are ineligible."

"I'm not sure…" he trailed off, the thought reaching its conclusion in his mind. Ah. It wasn't his credentials that were in question, but rather his status. The Mizukage wasn't in charge of choosing his own bodyguards, and whomever was likely didn't want one Jinchūriki protecting another. If Yagura was busy running the village, Utakata couldn't be allowed to watch over him; he instead needed to be available for anything else the village required.

Disappointment slumped his shoulders as he turned away from the two ANBU and made the long, slow trek back to the bubble-users' compound. Now what?

Utakata watched the other Jinchūriki from his spot by the Senju compound's pond, golden gaze unfocused. Fū and Gaara were sparring under Han's discerning eyes, the armored shinobi a sentinel to his juniors' training.

In stark contrast to the Iwa-nin, Fū was darting around the Suna-nin, throwing quick jabs at her fellow Genin with hands covered by swirling winds. Since the pair had returned from their self-ascribed mission weeks before, the green-haired girl had come around to embrace their situation, a complete turn from her first month in Konoha. She was chipper and energetic and…unburdened, he mused, not wholly dissimilar from Naruto. It reminded him of her joy when he'd promised to take her away from the Hidden Waterfall.

Even Gaara's attitude in the interim weeks seemed different. Nothing so obvious as Fū's – she'd at least shown some capacity for happiness when they'd initially met – but he was less standoffish now, though he tended to stick close to Fū or Han when Naruto wasn't available, even if the latter seemed to be in a training capacity only.

That they were able to grow with each other was a net positive in Utakata's eyes, especially since Naruto had not been around much to facilitate their interaction, something he'd been counting on. He supposed that whatever adventure Gaara and Fū had been on had forged a bond that allowed them to serve as a surrogate-Naruto for each other, with the real blond reinforcing that connection at the sporadic times he was around.

The Leaf native's frequent absence was due to the plethora of missions Tsunade kept sending him on now that he'd been promoted to Genin, an announcement that had surprised Utakata and his seniors more than the two younger Jinchūriki, judging by Gaara's stoicism and Fū's cheer. Or, a cynical part of the brunet posited (and Rōshi had grunted in presumed agreement when he'd mentioned it), it was the follies of youth; it hadn't escaped his notice that the older redhead tended to make himself scarce when Naruto's rotating band of teammates – a large group of Genin his age, though rarely the same assembly of two or three people – showed up to the Senju compound to collect him.

He would be lying if he couldn't admit that the sight of the three youngest Jinchūriki together didn't spark an ember of envy. It reminded him all too keenly of his friendship with Yagura, of his years-long failure to protect the grey-haired boy from the evil influence controlling him.

Han stepped forward to correct Gaara's form, and Utakata found himself immersed in his own sparring sessions with Yagura, ducking the smaller boy's laughably large staff and learning how to bend his slight form around every attack thrown at him. A sad smile crept around his mouth, the sudden weight of the memories as suffocating as his friend's Rough Sea Spume technique.

Not for the first time, he wondered when Yagura had fallen under the control of Akatsuki, and how he hadn't seen it. Or maybe he hadn't seen it because it had only occurred after his friend had taken up the mantle of leadership. The moment he'd been turned away from applying to be the Mizukage's personal guard had haunted him for two years – right up until he'd fled the village – a failed attempt to retain the close friendship he'd spent six years cultivating.

"Hey, Naruto's back!"

Utakata's head snapped up towards the compound's main entrance at Fū's announcement, finding the blond waving an energetic goodbye to his latest team: a black-haired boy wearing a vivid green jumpsuit, a female brunette with hair twisted into two buns, and a male brunet with white eyes and a no-nonsense countenance. It was hard to tell, but it looked like the white-eyed boy offered someone – Fū or Gaara – a curt nod of his head before turning and leaving with his team, a boisterous yell from the green-clad male accompanying their departure.

Fū raced ahead and threw her arms around the blond, Gaara following sedately behind her and stopping a respectful distance from the pair. "He certainly has a charisma about him," Han noted, deep voice carrying notes of Rōshi's wry humor to Utakata's trained ears as he joined the Kiri-nin. "That he attracts so many different personalities is the mark of a unifying figure."

Utakata shot him a sidelong glance. "So you think he can be the Hokage?"

"Hokage?" The word was delivered with a scoff. "Like anyone in our position would ever be selected."

"Yagura—"

"The Mizukage, yes? And I'm sure he was eager to take the mantle, chose it of his own volition." Utakata found himself mute in the face of the older Jinchūriki's searing sarcasm, his words an accurate reminder that Yagura had been forced into the role in an effort by the Hidden Mist's hierarchy to grow the village's power and prestige. "Duty is a tedious thing. Those with our affliction don't seek the impossible."

Utakata considered the armored shinobi's words, watching the three younger demon containers converse with an ease that hadn't existed upon his first observation of each of them. "Rōshi said something pretty similar when we first started out," he rebutted quietly. "Repeatedly. But I think what we've accomplished so far is a pretty clear sign that the impossible is not as out of reach as you Iwa-nin think it is."

Han scoffed again, arms crossed over his broad chest, and he looked so much like a larger version of Rōshi silently conceding defeat that the Kiri-nin couldn't help but grin. He left the older shinobi, moving towards the trio of Genin with a hand raised in greeting to Naruto's exuberant wave. "Another exciting mission, Naruto?" Golden eyes swept over the blond's form, taking note of the wear and tear displayed prominently across his new uniform.

Jiraiya's gift – a cross between a graduation and birthday present, according to the older man's note – was a grey hoodie with a zipper and convenient front pockets. The long sleeves were decorated with a stripe of orange that contrasted the dark blue pants that fell to his ankles. Apparently the design was very similar to what his father had worn as a Genin, which was probably why Naruto had taken to wearing the outfit with unbridled glee.

"You bet! I was just tellin' Gaara and Fū about how Raiga threw this huge lightning—"

"Sorry," Utakata interrupted, visible golden eye wide, "did you just say Raiga? Kurosuki Raiga?"

Naruto scratched his temple with a finger, offering the brunet an embarrassed grin. "Heh, maybe? Don't know his full name…"

"Green hair?" Utakata probed, the question striking like a bolt of lightning. "Lots of bandages? He'd probably look similar to this," he added, and with a quick sign, he was engulfed in a cloud of smoke as the Transformation Technique took effect.

Naruto's blue eyes gleamed with recognition. "Hey, yeah! That's a pretty good likeness, Utakata-nii. You know him?"

The illusion fell when Gaara and Fū's gazes swiveled to him as well, three pairs of curious eyes waiting for a response. "He was once a member of Kirigakure's Seven Shinobi Swordsmen, if one of ill repute." His explanation was slow, measured, a recollection of information gathered in years of self-learning. They didn't react to the name – and he wondered how far his home village had fallen that their shinobi with the greatest renown had no name recognition to other villages – so he elaborated, "The Seven Shinobi Swordsmen are – or were, I suppose – the best of the best, Kirigakure's elite fighting force. Not only were they experts in Silent Killing, but they were masters of kenjutsu. Unparalleled. Together, it was rumored they could annihilate an entire country.

"Their swords only made them more famous, or infamous, as it were. Each one was designed to do something different, with its own unique ability, and they could only be passed down upon the death of the wielder. Raiga…he used raitō, twin swords that could channel both natural and chakra-based lightning to cut through anything. He got them from a kunoichi named Ringo Ameyuri, who he killed while she was lying sick in bed.

"Ameyuri was…revered. The first and only kunoichi to ever join the Swordsmen, people idolized her. Understandably, the nature of her murder didn't go over well with the people of Kirigakure. See, even though Kirigakure has a reputation of being bloodthirsty, it prides itself on combat and winning in battle. The way Raiga killed Ameyuri was cowardly; it went against everything Kirigakure stood for. So he fled, taking the raitō Kiba with him." He cleared his throat, the history lesson wearing on him. "I'm sorry for interrupting your story, Naruto, but what happened to Raiga? Did he have Kiba?"

"Oh, uh, yeah! He had a couple swords. And he was real big on lightning. But he, uh, fell over a cliff? I think the swords went with him."

Utakata cursed under his breath, but quickly schooled his disappointment and hopefully probed, "Naruto, where was this mission?"

"Um…Katabami…something? Sorry, Neji was in charge. It was in the Land of Rivers, about a day and a half away."

"Much appreciated."

The brunet turned on his heel and walked into the building. His room was one of the closest to the entrance, and he entered with a swish of his kimono. Golden eyes flitted around, directing him to a rucksack Naruto had bought for him during an outing through the village. He took the rucksack to the kitchen and began to rifle through the cabinets, grabbing a medley of non-perishables and throwing them in the bag.

"What're you doing?"

He turned at Fū's voice, finding her watching his movements from the entryway. "I need to find Kiba."

"So you're leaving?"

"Just for a little bit." He returned to foraging through the cabinets for food, only pausing when a caramel-colored hand waved a small tin can before his eyes. Utakata grabbed it, turning it so that he could read the label. "No thanks, I'm not big on nattō."

"It's for me," Fū told him, a touch exasperated. "You shouldn't go by yourself, and two pairs of eyes are better than one."

Utakata almost protested, then decided better of it. Though he knew a great deal about the history of the Swordsmen and each sword's ability, the origins of the blades themselves were shrouded in mystery and mythology. At a minimum, Samehada, Hiramekarei, and Kubikiribōchō were all imbued with chakra; if Kiba was similar, Fū's sensing abilities could be a great asset. Instead, he placed the nattō in the rucksack and offered her a nod of acknowledgment.

When he felt he had enough supplies, he left the kitchen and ventured back into the courtyard, Fū trailing behind him. "Hey, Gaara, Naruto!" she shouted. "Wanna come on an adventure with us? We're gonna find the swords Utakata was talking about!"

Naruto let out a whoop. "Yeah!" Beside him, Gaara looked between the Leaf and Waterfall Genin, then bobbed his head once in agreement.

"Ah, well…" Utakata began, caught flat-footed, "while I appreciate the support, Naruto, you're an official shinobi, and you can't leave without the Hokage's permission."

"Aw man!"

The brunet offered him a crooked grin. "You've done more than enough at this point, thank you. Although, if you could maybe inform Tsunade of our whereabouts, that might help…smooth things over when we return. And I can't ask you to go with us," he directed to Gaara.

Teal eyes blinked at him, slow and methodical. "You didn't."

Utakata didn't know what to make of the younger boy's response, but since it didn't seem like an outright rejection, and Fū was grinning cheerily at him, he assumed the redhead was joining their team. He turned to Han, who was lurking nearby, and politely offered, "If you'd like—"

"Pass," came the giant's swift, curt response. One large, gloved hand came to rest on Naruto's shoulder. "You have training to do."

Naruto's expression waffled between excited and disappointed, granting the remaining demon containers a mournful glance that he couldn't join them. When the Iwa-nin finished steering the blond away, Utakata glanced at the two remaining Genin, both of whom were watching him expectantly. "Well, I guess we're ready to go then."

But for the sound of shoes landing or leaping from branches, silence reigned among the trio. Fū had to keep slowing down to allow her two companions to keep up, her apparent familiarity with tree-hopping leagues ahead of Utakata and Gaara's. The brunet rued that he couldn't use his Drifting Bubble, but the idea of being in an enclosed space with Gaara – who struck him as uncomfortable (at best) when confined – made that a dangerous option.

So they traveled the old-fashioned way, which was tedious, but at least the Land of Fire offered them a scenic view.

"Wheeee!"

Utakata smiled despite his uncharitable thoughts; at least someone was enjoying herself.

"I have a question."

The Kiri-nin turned to Gaara, who was watching him apathetically. "Yes?"

"Your interest in these swords seems to transcend intellectual curiosity. They are…important. I do not understand why."

"They're of significant cultural and military significance to Kirigakure—"

"Yet you are no longer a denizen of your village," Gaara pointed out with bland indifference. "Your allegiance is to the group you have formed, is it not?" Fū slowed down so that she was keeping pace with them, backwards glances allowing orange eyes to flicker between the pair as best she could while still one jump ahead. "You have not displayed a proficiency in handling weapons or Raiton chakra that would suggest this mission is intended to improve your own skills. Therefore, its purpose is of great personal import to you specifically."

Stunned by the Sand Genin's analysis, Utakata couldn't formulate a reply before Fū piped up. "Is this part of your plan to rescue Yagura?"

"That's…they're…separate issues," he managed.

"Inoichi says that to solve an issue, you must identify its root cause."

Utakata stared at the redhead, again unable to find a response, and Gaara met the teenager's gaze with his own even look. After a long moment where neither seem inclined to elaborate further, the brunet finally sighed. "My father was one of the Seven Shinobi Swordsmen," he explained. There was a moment of silence in which he considered what else to divulage, and as the weight of his companions' gazes continued to bore into him, he quietly admitted, "He wielded Kiba."

Fū jerked at the revelation, fumbling her jump and releasing a breathy gasp. Gaara didn't seem to react, instead commenting, "You mentioned a kunoichi named Ameyuri—"

"I know," he interrupted, an uncharacteristic bite to his voice, "and she was. But she took over from my father. He died fighting the Sanbi when I was two, in the same fight that almost killed the previous Rokubi Jin—container," he corrected, eyes flicking to Fū. "I got Saiken, and Ameyuri got Kiba. So yes, you're right that this is personal. But there's more to it than that.

"See, Kirigakure has been in steady decline for a while now, despite having two Bijū and the Seven Shinobi Swordsmen. The Sandaime Mizukage started a tradition of having Academy students fight to the death in order to graduate, which both halved our forces and gave us the reputation of being bloodthirsty and savage. It was the hope of the village's hierarchy that, by raising a Kage who also contained the Sanbi, the village would reclaim some of its original glory. Yagura was supposed to…reverse Kirigakure's trajectory.

"Ultimately, it didn't work. When Yagura took over, Kirigakure's history of bloodshed spread. The graduation ceremony continued, and we exacerbated a systematic purge of clans with kekkei genkai that, until recently, had been more of a pattern of local discrimination and isolated attacks. Since last year – or, well, a year before I left anyway – Kirigakure has been embroiled in an escalating civil war that has set those with kekkei genkai and their supporters against the institution that's been in control since before I was born."

"Absolute power corrupts absolutely," Gaara intoned.

"I…yes, I suppose so," Utakata acknowledged, surprised at the younger boy's insight, "although it wasn't without rebellion. Several of the Seven Shinobi Swordsmen fought back against what was happening, but none were successful. I already told you what happened with Ameyuri and Raiga, but three others – Zabuza, Jinpachi, and Jinin – all tried and failed to overthrow the Mizukage. Jinpachi was killed to set an example; Zabuza and Jinin fled the village. Kushimaru and Kisame stayed loyal, but Kisame's really working for Akatsuki, and Kushimaru was killed by Rōshi. Mangetsu was killed on a mission not long before I left."

"Rōshi must be very strong to have beaten someone you refer to as elite." There was a note of longing in Gaara's voice, and when the bubble-user glanced at him, his normally flat eyes seemed to be gleaming with hunger.

"Gaara!" Fū warned sharply, and the redhead's gaze immediately snapped to her.

He shook his head, and when his feet propelled him forward on the next jump, the look was gone. "Ah…thank you."

"Mm." Fū turned towards Utakata. "When we were in the Hokage's office, you gave her a sword-ssu. Was that—?"

"That was Kushimaru's weapon, Nuibari." He cleared his throat, unsure how to properly segue out of the younger pair's interaction. "The swords provide…clout. As I said, Kirigakure has been struggling for a long time, and returning something of such cultural, military, and historic significance could offer us leverage."

"For what?" Fū asked. "Do you think you're gonna bargain with people who don't care about you-ssu?"

Utakata opened his mouth to reply and again found no words. Fū had a point, especially given her experience in the Hidden Waterfall, and that wasn't even taking into account that he was a wanted man whom the Hidden Mist's hierarchy wouldn't be willing to negotiate with. "The…" he swallowed hard, unsure of what to say. "Kirigakure needs new leadership. If we're able to get Yagura out of there, change the status quo…then maybe… They'll come in handy, I'm sure of it," he reiterated with more confidence than he felt. "We just need to get Yagura out of there."

"It sounds as if you care for Yagura a great deal," Gaara observed.

"He's the only person who really understood what it was like to grow up like me. When things got to be too much, we always had each other." The brunet nearly bit his tongue, bitterly reminded of his failure. "Before Yagura became the Mizukage, I promised that I would watch over and protect him. He used to call me 'Utakata-nii'—"

"Naruto calls you that."

Utakata smiled sadly. "Yes, I've noticed. He and Yagura aren't so different, and apparently where Yagura considered me his older brother, so does Naruto. But when it mattered most, I failed to protect Yagura. I'm hoping to rectify that, not just with Naruto, or by saving Yagura, but…" he shrugged, unsure what more needed to be said. "So yes, you could say I care about him. We didn't really have anyone or anything else."

Gaara was watching him with the same blank visage that seemed a permanent fixture of his persona, his mood unreadable. As the silence among them dragged, Utakata began to feel guilt edge around his conscience. The months of dealing with Rōshi's pessimism had taught him that he apparently had his own short fuse when it came to the Three-Tails' Jinchūriki, and Gaara – his apparent sociopathy notwithstanding – didn't deserve his snark.

He opened his mouth to offer an apology, but Gaara's raspy monotone gave him pause. "Recently, Inoichi and I have been talking about family." Despite the boy's stoicism, Utakata found himself intrigued by his junior's comment, curious to its relevance. "In our sessions, I have noticed he often draws a comparison to his own teammates, calling them…brothers-in-arms."

He paused, teal eyes swallowing their surroundings, seemingly lost in the moment. Utakata arched an eyebrow in Fū's direction, silently asking her if this was normal when she finally caught his gaze. The Taki-nin shrugged, orange eyes flickering to Gaara, apparently waiting for him to continue.

After several seconds, the Sand Genin seemed to recover his thought process, continuing blandly, "He often tries to impress the importance of these people, as if a familial association makes them…special. But I have siblings who also served as my teammates, and they were…tedious. Weak…unimportant…afraid… They were a means to an end my father imposed upon me. That we share blood does not make them important."

"Gaara…"

Utakata held up a hand to forestall the rest of Fū's melancholic whisper. "Do you think that may be because you never had a relationship with your siblings?" Gaara stared at him, and as several seconds passed, his head slowly tilted to the side, teal eyes blinking lethargically. The motion made him seem bird-like, and in the moment, the Kiri-nin thought that he might be able to interpret the redhead's strange mannerisms; he appeared to be learning everything anew, a child studying those around him. "Just because you have siblings doesn't mean you automatically know what a sibling relationship is like. You need to actually have the relationship."

After another long pause, Gaara turned away, unable or unwilling to continue meeting the older Jinchūriki's gaze. "Hm. That is something to consider."

"Someone's near."

Utakata tilted his head towards Fū, Gaara mirroring his movement on her opposite side. They were only a couple hours into the Land of Rivers, traveling in quiet ease after the emotionally charged conversation the day before. Gaara had offered – more like insisted, in his flat rasp – to keep watch the previous night, and despite his initial unease, the Kiri-nin had acquiesced, eventually falling into a deep sleep.

Now rejuvenated both physically and mentally, he was focused on the mission at hand, following Fū's exuberant pace and trusting her direction. "Could it be the village by the mine?"

The Taki-nin shook her head. "It's only five people, and they're moving like us-ssu. Definitely shinobi. What should we do?"

Surprised by the question, Utakata turned from the kunoichi's open curiosity to Gaara's blank expression, looking for an opinion and receiving nothing in return. To the green-haired girl, he asked, "You're in the lead, what do you think?"

"Yeah, but you're the leader-ssu."

Another glance at Gaara was met with silence, although this time the boy gave a slow, single nod of agreement. "I'm…flattered…you think so," he managed, "but we're supposed to be a team, and I trust your judgment." Fū seemed to glow with the praise, and Utakata mused that additional positive reinforcement might help to continue breaking the Taki-nin out of her shell.

There was a moment of quiet while she appeared to focus on her sensory abilities, then, "I think we can avoid them. Follow me." She veered sharply to the south and the two boys followed; after a half-minute of travel, Fū hesitantly said, "Um, they changed their path. I think…I think they're following us?"

Concern began to bubble in his gut, and he forced himself to be calm when he probed, "Are you sure?"

Fū nodded, managing a hurried, "They're moving faster now."

"Let's outrun them."

"Unlikely," Gaara stated. "I cannot sustain a greater pace than our current one."

"Okay…" Utakata allowed, mind whirling, "then we're going to have to incapacitate them."

Gaara's eyes appeared to glimmer with the same madness from the day before, an expression the brunet was beginning to realize was probably bloodlust. "That idea has merit."

The Kiri-nin scrutinized the younger Jinchūriki, trying to judge someone he still knew far too little about and who seemed to be in the process of fighting a slew of personal demons. "Can you control yourself?"

Teal eyes snapped to him. "…Well enough," he said, and his voice sounded almost normal.

Of all the traits he'd observed so far, lying did not seem like something the redhead embraced, so Utakata decided to take him at his word. "Alright, then let's find a more advantageous location. Fū, keep an eye on them." The kunoichi tossed him a casual salute as he passed her to take the lead, maintaining their speed while keeping his head on a swivel for any sign of better terrain.

It only took a couple minutes of travel for the sound of running water to make its way to his ears, and he steered their group in the direction of one of the Land of Rivers' multiple namesakes. The trees opened into a grotto with a small cave whose mouth was protected by flowing water. They stopped in front of the cave, and after scanning their surroundings, Utakata turned to Gaara. "You're good with defense, right?"

"I was raised a weapon."

"So were we all," the Kiri-nin replied, "but that's not what I asked." Gaara stared at him, unblinking, and after an agonizing wait, wherein Utakata wanted to yell that time was of the essence, finally bobbed his head once. "Good. Fū and I will take the lead on offense, and you cover any blind spots from the cave so they can't see you or where your attacks are coming from." He received another nod, this one much more responsive, and as the Sand shinobi stalked towards the hideaway, the brunet plucked his bubble blower from where it was tucked within his obi. Loading it with solution, he brought it to his lips and blew out a slew of bubbles.

Wonder dawned on Fū's face as countless spheres spread out around them, dappled sunlight refracting rainbows off their surfaces. Utakata watched her joy, musing that this was one of the first times, if not the first time, that the green-haired girl had seen him use Shabondama; most of their training at the Senju compound focused on taijutsu, and when Utakata served as Naruto's teacher, it was mostly just to refine the boy's Suiton. "It's a start," he said.

"What can they do?"

"A lot. Keep your distance. And let me know when they're near."

"They're pretty close."

"Alright, get ready—"

A thick drizzle swept through the clearing, and Utakata's bubbles dissolved into the rain. Golden eyes widened with surprised and a small amount of fear. Kirisame…so then—

He ducked the first water whip that shot out towards him from the woods, but the second one lashed around his ankles and bound his legs together. There was a tug, and he crashed to the ground with a yelp. Fū shouted his name, dashing forward and severing his bindings with a slice of her arm. She took up guard around him while he scrambled back to his feet, scanning their surroundings for any inkling of the hunter-nin hiding just beyond his sight. "What's going on?" Fū asked. "This rain is full of chakra, it's hard to sense anything—"

"It's Kirisame," Utakata explained hurriedly, "a jutsu used by Kirigakure's oinin to absorb any manifested chakra of the people they hunt. It's especially effective against my Shabondama, which is why they're using it."

"They're after you-ssu?"

"Indeed," intoned a new voice, deep with authority. Three figures stepped out of the forest, all dressed in neutral colors contrasted by the white ANBU masks that disguised their identity. The lead Kiri-nin took several more steps forward and removed his mask, revealing a pale face with a trim goatee and a long scar cutting through his left eye. "Utakata."

The brunet grimaced, returning the hunter-nin's greeting with a curt, "Tsurugi."

Back in the Hidden Mist, he'd only known of the man by reputation as an oinin division subleader, one of the few people in the running to eventually replace Kushimaru as the wielder of Nuibari. The scar was a memento of an ugly training session with the now-deceased Swordsman, a story that had spread through the village like wildfire. There would likely be no negotiating with him. "Utakata, I'm offering you a single opportunity to turn yourself in, and your companions can leave unharmed. Should you resist, there will be no mercy for any of you."

…Well, that's more generous than I was expecting.

"He's not goin' anywhere!" Fū retorted.

Her heated defense took him by surprise, and if it wasn't for the situation at hand, he thought the support might have overwhelmed him. As it was, it was probably ill-timed. "Tsurugi, wait—"

The hunter-nin slipped his mask back on. "So be it." An ōdachi was removed from its sheath, the three-foot blade held threatening in front of him. He charged the brunet, bringing the blade in a downward slice that nearly removed his right arm; only a last-minute dive to the left saved the limb. Utakata hastened to his feet, only to immediately gag as something wrapped around his throat, constricting his airway. His hands scrabbled against the threat, working fruitlessly against a mass of liquid as his vision began to blur—

He gasped as the noose loosened, golden eyes opening amidst a coughing fit to find Fū leaning down beside him. "C'mon," she urged, and then immediately spun around, a raised arm slicing through an incoming water whip like a blade. "Someone else's comin'."

Utakata spun her out of the way of a second swing of Tsurugi's ōdachi, grunting when the older Mist shinobi kicked his unprotected back. "Shouldn't Gaara be helping?" he hissed.

"Probably!" She spun around him and sliced through another water whip and the wave of electricity that followed behind it.

Assured that she seemed to be able to take care of herself, and pushing the missing-in-action Suna-nin from his mind, Utakata turned to face Tsurugi, racing through viable combat options while the Mist Rain technique was in effect. Without ninjutsu, he was forced to resort to taijutsu, which seemed to be working for Fū, but…it didn't explain how the green-haired girl was so easily countering the oinin's elemental techniques. His periphery caught her negate another burst of water, the spray repelled outward off her forearm. She's using Fūton…I guess Kirisame doesn't stop chakra just being emanated off the user?

That was an interesting tidbit he'd have to keep in mind for any future conflicts.

Tsurugi's fingers twisted through one-handed seals, liquid orbs the size of his head coagulating from the mist. Utakata began to dodge each of the Drizzle technique's projectiles, keeping an eye on the swordsman and nimbly twisting his body around the ōdachi's slashes when they came. With each move, he allowed the protective chakra coating his body to dissipate until only the Rokubi's gift remained, his Acid Armor giving him some measure of confidence with his taijutsu.

When the ōdachi came at him again, water swirling around the blade, the brunet focused chakra to his hand and caught the weapon on its downswing. The metal melted with a sizzle, the sword's tip falling to the ground as the Six-Tails' acid ate through the blade. If the oinin was surprised, his mask hid it, but Utakata managed to slam his left fist into the porcelain while he was momentarily flat-footed.

When Tsurugi staggered back and looked up, an imprint of the Jinchūriki's fist was missing from his mask, revealing a portion of the right side of his face. He glanced at the remaining two feet of blade still attached to the hilt and then threw it to the side. "So you've learned some new tricks in your time away."

"I just leaned into who I am."

Tsurugi made an indistinct noise and then removed the mask, dropping it near his discarded sword. "So be it."

A loud creak caught their attention, the pair looking over in time to jump apart from the shadow of a collapsing tree that hit the earth and stopped all fighting. Standing over the broken base of the tree was a man with a square jaw and short brown hair receding from his large forehead. His face was dark, like cocoa, but as Utakata watched, it faded to a rough tan, a scar clear on his left temple; the rest of his body was hidden by a black cloak decorated with large red clouds that sent dread shuddering down the brunet's spine. Oh no… "Fū, we need to go!"

"So, Kakuzu, what do you think?"

From the shadow of the first Akatsuki-nin stepped a second, this one at least a foot taller, head covered by a grey hood and black face mask, leaving only lurid, pupil-less green eyes visible. Clenched in his hand was the head of a Kiri-nin, the shinobi's body flaccid beside him; with a casual movement, he tossed the corpse into the clearing, where it rolled to a stop, a large gash evident in his chest. Green eyes flitted across the gathered shinobi, from Fū to the two Kiri-nin she was fighting, then to Utakata and finally Tsurugi. "Those two," he said in a deep baritone that reminded Utakata a little of Han's voice. "Utakata and Biwa Tsurugi, both valuable bounties."

"Fū!" he hissed. "Get the hell out of here! FŪ!"

She wasn't moving, and Utakata moved away from Tsurugi to get closer to her. She appeared catatonic, orange eyes wide with terror, and he wondered if the reality of what they were up against – what all the Jinchūriki were up against – was finally hitting her. Another shout of her name finally drew her wide-eyed gaze to him, and when she finally spoke, it was only to whisper, "That's…Kakuzu…"

"This rain is annoying. I leave them to you, Kontsuchi."

"He's after me, not you, so go. Go!" Utakata repeated when she didn't respond.

"Go where?"

Utakata whirled on the spot to be greeted by a hammerblow that sent him soaring towards the cave they'd left Gaara. He crawled to his knees with a groan, looking around to find the dark-skinned, brown-haired Akatsuki-nin – Kontsuchi, he presumed – stalking towards him. Kontsuchi stomped the ground, and a jagged series of earthen spikes raced towards him, but something lifted him off the ground and carried him into the cave, narrowly avoiding impalement. He glanced over to find Gaara's hand stretched out with the palm up, manipulating the sand beneath him. "Thank you, but what have you been doing?"

"Sand and water do not mix," intoned the redhead. The silica beneath the brunet disappeared, only to reform as a veil blocking the cave entrance that shielded them from an incoming punch; it exploded into individual granules that immediately reformed to protect them, and Gaara grunted, "He hits as hard as Han. I cannot hold this long."

"They're after me," the brunet said hurriedly, "and something's wrong with Fū."

Teal eyes snapped to his face, holding golden irises in a deadly gaze. "What is wrong with Fū?"

Utakata shook his head and divested himself of his kimono. "I don't know, but I need you to get her out of here. And take this with you," he added, holding his clothing out for the redhead.

"You can take these men by yourself?"

"I'm not sure, but if I can give you and her the opportunity to escape, we need to take it."

The redhead's stare remained unwavering for a long moment, despite the Akatsuki-nin beating his barrier, and when he finally looked away, taking the kimono wordlessly, he said, "You are a good leader."

Utakata didn't know what to say to that, but in the next instant, the sand barrier dropped and Kontsuchi charged into the cave. The brunet blazed through seals as chakra built in his chest. Funshasan!

Greenish liquid blasted from his mouth and hit the Akatsuki-nin in the chest, drawing a laugh from the man. "You think that'll stop me? My Doton: Domu is as hard as steel, you're not gonna do anything with—ah!" he hissed, scratching at his chest and sidestepping the stream's range.

Utakata cut off the Acid Spray technique to see that the liquid had burned a hole in his opponent's black cloak and had apparently started eating through his hardened skin. Good, I have a chance. "Go now!" he hissed to Gaara. The Suna-nin nodded in response, slipping silently past the Akatsuki-nin while the larger man was distracted. If I keep him in here, I won't have to worry about Kirisame…

"I guess you've got some tricks up your sleeve to make you worth something, huh? Whatever. Doton: Ganchūsō."

Thick pillars of rock shot out from the cave's walls, floor, and ceiling at random locations, forcing the brunet to contort his body around each obstacle. One clipped his shoulder, throwing him off-balance, and a second one slammed into his stomach, knocking the breath from his lungs. The slime covering his skin allowed him to slide off the stone before it could crush him against the wall, and Utakata sent a mental plea to the Bijū sealed within him. Saiken, I need your chakra. I don't think I can take the oinin and two of Akatsuki if we don't get out of here before that other guy comes back.

Likely not, burbled the slug, but be careful.

I know.

Chakra exploded out of him, disguising his form in an amorphous, oblong-shaped blob of mixed red and black. Five equally oblong tails trailed from the base of his spine, and Utakata oozed through the spaces between the columns created by the Rock Pillar Spears technique, body flattening and flowing as if boneless. He made it to the front of the cave, where Tsurugi had arrived and started trading blows with Kontsuchi, the Akatsuki-nin fending off the Mist shinobi with a large broadsword and darkened skin. Tsurugi caught sight of him approaching, movements stalling as he gasped, "Rokubi…"

Then the broadsword cleaved through his torso, and the oinin's body fell into two pieces.

A sliver of sympathy trickled through Utakata, which quickly changed to trepidation as the Akatsuki-nin turned to face him. "So, you're a Jinchūriki, huh? If that was in the Bingo Book, Kakuzu sure kept it close to his chest. Probably didn't want to step on Zetsu's toes, or whatever that freak's got for feet. Guess he'll just have to take the Nibi."

He swung at the Kiri-nin, and Utakata dove under the slash, fluidly avoiding the weapon and lashing his tails around the base of the blade, holding it in place. His acidic skin began to eat through the metal, but with a hard yank, the sword slid from his grasp, cutting through the tips of his tails and eliciting a pained roar. Kontsuchi's leg kicked out, and Utakata grabbed the man's ankle, focusing on the acid covering his hands.

The Earth Spear technique dissolved under his hold, but a block of stone burst from the floor, forcing him to release the older male or risk being brained. Utakata sat on his haunches and observed his adversary, drool leaking from his open maw to erode the stone it dripped on. Chirōkyū!

A cloud of white gas billowed from the transformed Jinchūriki's mouth, engulfing the space between them and turning the broadsword into puddled steel. Kontsuchi immediately released the hilt of his blade, sacrificing it to the Wisdom Wolf Decay, and leaped from the cave to the open air, where the vapor was more likely to disperse. Utakata slithered through his own technique, hiding in its midst, until he was close enough to stretch out his tails and wrap them around the Akatsuki-nin like a constrictor, bringing the brunt of his acidic skin against his enemy's hardened one. Hiruma!

Kontsuchi's dark skin began to erode beneath the touch of the Leech Gap technique; he grunted in pain, flexing against the renegade Mist shinobi and supplementing his form with rock until the Jinchūriki's body was stretched to its limit. A roar spilled from the teenager's throat, acid building in his esophagus, but the Akatsuki-nin moved close enough to grab his head with a stone-encased fist, tightly squeezing heedless of the acid dissolving his defenses.

With a transformation of his chakra, Utakata slipped from his enemy's grasp, body contorting like an eel, and swung his tails like a bat. Kontsuchi grabbed them with both arms – reinforced with rocky armor – just before impact, then lifted the Jinchūriki into an arc and slammed him against the ground with a bellow. Dust billowed around them, and when it cleared, a hole could be seen where the teenager's body had lain. The Akatsuki-nin's hands shed their stone gauntlets to blaze through seals, palms slapping against the earth with a grunted, "Doton: Kaido Shōkutsu!"

The ground formed into a gigantic anthill, a heatless volcano that shot the demonic boy forth amid a cavalcade of dirt and pale green liquid. Kontsuchi hissed and fortified his Earth Spear technique as acid rained down like lava and ash, the liquid eating through leaves, wood, earth, and skin indiscriminately. Then the bulk of the deluge crashed down with the weight of a tsunami, engulfing the once-peaceful grotto in burning fluid. Utakata's trajectory continued through the air unimpeded, the momentum of the Open Earth Rising Excavation technique combined with the Mist shinobi's expelled chakra sending him soaring far from the battlefield.

By the time Kakuzu returned from dispatching the remaining oinin squad members, the Rokubi's acid had left smoking ruins in a small pocket of the Land of Rivers. Kontsuchi laid in a crater that had a depleting volume of acid seeping through the ground, chunks of flesh eaten out of his body, both feet burned off by the pool of liquid. "This was unforeseen." His partner's gaze turned towards him, angry red splotches on his face identifying where the acid had burned him, mouth opening and closing slowly in an attempt at speech. "You're still alive? How fortuitous."

He raised an arm and black threads wriggled out from a suture that kept his forearm tied to his elbow. They wrapped themselves under Kontsuchi's armpits and dragged the man's body out of the pit, setting him on the flat earth before digging under his skin, eliciting a choked sound from the prone shinobi. When the tendrils emerged, the Akatsuki-nin's heart was in their grasp, pulsing a thready beat, and then they returned to Kakuzu's body, assimilating the organ. Kakuzu's green eyes fluttered closed for a brief moment as he absorbed his now-deceased partner's power. He raised his hand and activated the Earth Spear technique, watching his skin darken to a deep pitch in mimicry of Kontsuchi's specialty. "Worry not, Kontsuchi, you shall live on, if in spirit rather than body. Though I suppose that will not be sufficient to prevent Pein from finding me another partner."

Green eyes roved towards the untouched cave entrance, where a body lay protected under its roof. He strolled over and stared down at the torso and head of the oinin Tsurugi. "At least you achieved your goal." With no effort, he slung the top half of the Kiri-nin over his shoulder and then walked back over to his former partner. "It seems you didn't get Utakata, but I think you should serve as a sufficient replacement." He grabbed the corpse's black cloak and lugged him over the other shoulder, both bodies a minimal inconvenience for his six-foot frame.

With one last glance around the area, Kakuzu left the destruction behind, two high-class bounties on his back.

Utakata reclined against the trunk of a sturdy tree and took a deep breath that wracked his body. The momentum of the Opening Earth Rising Excavation technique had carried his transformed form away, where he'd crashed into an unknown area of woods in a shower of acid and debris. His Vat of Acid technique had at least taken effect, and would hopefully keep Akatsuki distracted long enough for him to recover and rendezvous with Gaara and Fū.

Despite the genial relationship he'd nurtured with the Rokubi, tapping into a significant amount of the gastropod's chakra always left him in a weakened state. He wasn't Yagura, with unquestionable control over his Bijū, nor was he Han, who could apparently utilize the Five-Tails' chakra on a whim with little to no consequences.

He let out a groan, hanging his head as another spasm shuddered down his spine. "Well this has gone pear-shaped," he muttered. And to think, all he'd wanted was to find Kiba.

"You are okay."

Utakata looked up to find Gaara standing before him, expression as inscrutable as ever. Fū was approaching at a slog behind him, appearing only slightly less out of sorts than when he'd last seen her. "You got away," he said, breathing a sigh of relief. The redhead nodded, offering the older boy his kimono, and the Kiri-nin took it, asking, "Are you okay?"

Gaara followed the older male's gaze to Fū, and after several seconds of non-responsiveness from the kunoichi, intoned, "We are physically unharmed."

Utakata nodded, but continued to scrutinize the Nanabi Jinchūriki. "Fū…what happened back there?"

"…That was Kakuzu-ssu," she finally whispered. She still seemed traumatized, but the fact that she was talking now was reassuring. "He's from Takigakure. I read about him in a book. He was imprisoned for failing to assassinate the Shodai Hokage—"

"The…the Shodai Hokage?" the Kiri-nin interjected, stunned. "That can't be possible. He would be almost 100 years old!"

"I…I can't explain that part-ssu," Fū admitted, "but it was definitely him. He had a Taki hitae-ate, and his eyes…I would recognize them anywhere; there was a mugshot of him from when he was imprisoned. The story goes that he broke out and murdered the village Elders, but no one knows how. Kakuzu's the best and worst shinobi Taki ever produced. He's…scary-ssu."

Silence reigned among the trio as Fū's shaky words were digested. Utakata decided to break it, saying, "Well, we know more now about Akatsuki than we did before. And we made it out alive. I think we should consider this a win."

"Then we are to continue? You seem…indisposed."

"Yeah, are you sure you're okay-ssu? Your chakra feels…tired."

"It's Saiken," Utakata explained, dragging himself to his feet and gesturing with his head that they could keep moving. "The Rokubi. We're compatible, but we haven't gotten to the point where I can use his chakra in excess without being unaffected."

"Compatible?"

Gaara's dry timbre sounded almost…curious. Utakata spared him a glance, golden eyes flickering over to Fū, whose expression seemed to match the redhead's tone. "Right, I keep forgetting you guys don't really know what it's like to be a Jinchūr—ah, uh, Bijū container. The power of the Bijū cannot be contained by just anyone; their individual chakra have to be compatible, otherwise the host will reject the Bijū, and, well…"

"So…" Gaara stated, absorbing the older boy's explanation, "we were destined to carry these burdens."

The Kiri-nin opened his mouth to respond and, not for the first time, found himself at a loss for words. "I…"

"We never had a chance for a happy life, did we?"

Utakata grappled for some way to relieve Fū's melancholy, finally managing, "It… We… We can't change the past. We can only move forward from here and live good lives, irrespective of the cards we've been dealt."

Gaara grunted, an indecipherable noise. "You sound like Naruto."

"Maybe he learned it from Utakata-nii?" Fū suggested. The brunet shot her a surprised look, startled by the familial address, and received a shy smile in response. He offered her a smile of his own, glad for a definitive sign of the forgiveness he'd been seeking from the green-haired girl for untold weeks.

"I think Naruto's optimism is inherent," he responded, bemused, "but I appreciate your faith in me."

"You're our leader," Fū chirped, cheer nearly drowning out Gaara's intoned agreement.

That simple sentiment pushed their conversation into a companionable silence, Utakata humbled once more by the others' admission, and the trio continued their trek unhurried through the Land of Rivers. The brunet's energy slowly returned as they traveled, posture straightening into a semblance of its usual ramrod.

By the time the lush foliage of the Land of Rivers thinned to reveal a series of more barren, rocky steppes framed by dark mountains, the sun had passed its zenith, and Utakata – sad as it sounded – felt a little more at home, the desolate atmosphere a nostalgic reminder of the Hidden Mist Village. "If this is where Raiga made his home, I can see why."

"Why?"

Fū's curiosity carried the same genuine warmth as Naruto's, and Utakata felt himself smile in spite of the bittersweet atmosphere. "Well, this place isn't so dissimilar from Kirigakure. Not everyone who leaves their village wants to escape it."

"This place is kinda gloomy, Utakata-nii."

"It's not Takigakure, that's for sure," he agreed, shooting the green-haired girl a glance. Her upbeat façade faded, replaced with something more pensive, and the brunet realized he'd erred with his glibness. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean…I was referring to the climate, not that the people there are any better than…" he cut himself off and sighed, annoyed by his own rambling. "Sorry."

"It's okay-ssu. I get it." She took a deep breath. "You're right. We need to keep moving forward."

Gaara's disaffected rasp interrupted their conversation. "There is a town below."

The other two Jinchūriki stepped closer to where the redhead stood on the road's edge, stoic gaze fixed on the civilization hugging the mountainside. "That could be it," Utakata said.

They traversed a winding road built into the mountains that led down towards the village, a thin gloom growing around them as they descended. It was almost a surprise when they finally caught sight of a residence up close, its inhabitant outside taking down laundry. "Oh, visitors. How unusual."

Utakata stepped forward. "Yes, um…sorry for intruding. This might be a bit of an odd question, but have you heard the name 'Raiga' before?"

The woman nodded. "It's familiar, yes. I believe that was the name of the man who took over Katabami Kinzan. The stories we heard from there…"

"Is that where we are?"

She laughed then, genuinely amused by the question. "Goodness no! This is Katabami Ginzan. Katabami Kinzan is further ahead. If you go back up this trail and then continue walking for, oh, maybe another half-day, you'll come across it."

Utakata sketched a hasty bow. "Apologies if I caused offense. Thank you for your help."

The woman waved him off. "Not a problem. Such a polite young man…"

Embarrassed, the brunet took a step backwards to rejoin his companions, gesturing for them to follow him back up the mountainside and offering the woman his final murmured gratitude. He could feel the younger Jinchūriki's eyes on his back as they ascended, and when they were finally well out of earshot of the residents of Katabami Ginzan, Fū commented, "You're so good with people, Utakata-nii."

The Kiri-nin let out an awkward chuckle. "You think so? Rōshi calls it pandering."

"He doesn't really care about being nice, does he?"

"He's…unused to dealing with people," Utakata hedged, obligated to defend their companion but mentally conceding that the green-haired girl wasn't wrong. "I don't think he likes accepting that people have to rely on other people." Gaara made a noncommittal noise that had the other two Jinchūriki turning to look at him. "You don't agree?"

The redhead seemed to stare straight through him, teal eyes intense but unfocused. "…In my experience," he uttered slowly, "people…"

He trailed off, lost in some unknown thought. Utakata and Fū exchanged glances when his silence continued to drag, and the kunoichi prompted, "Gaara?"

The redhead shook his head slowly, as if awakening from a dream. "…are complicated." Teal eyes finally focused on the pairs of orange and gold that stared at him with varying degrees of concern and apprehension. "Once, I would have agreed with Rōshi, but…circumstances have changed. I do not believe I can judge."

"You're still allowed an opinion," Utakata said.

"…Perhaps," the Suna-nin acquiesced after a moment's thought, "but it would not be well-informed."

Utakata hummed in thought, letting his attention fall off the younger boy. He's…complicated. But he was also careful…thoughtful…traits not too dissimilar from the Kiri-nin himself. There, at least, was a (non-depressing) thread of commonality between them.

It only took a couple hours of walking for Fū to comment that she could sense another congregation of weak chakra, likely Katabami Kinzan. With careful direction, she navigated them toward its heart, their long years of training cutting down the woman's estimated arrival time. Gaara, head slowly swiveling like a pendulum to take in the geography, pointed out a sign that identified the village as their target, and Utakata felt a surge of optimism fill his chest. "Fū, can you sense anything?"

"Mmm…maybe? There's something that has a pretty different chakra than everything else-ssu. It's weird."

"That sounds promising. Where is it?"

Fū pointed down, deep into the bowels of the rocky valleys, where swirling mists hid their depths from sight. "Somewhere down there."

"Worth a shot." He brought his bamboo blower to his lips and exhaled a large bubble, casting a glance at the two younger Jinchūriki. "I think this should be quick, if you're willing."

"Yeah!" Fū cheered, and her response prompted the brunet to create another Drifting Bubble before turning his attention to Gaara.

"I will remain here."

"If you're sure…"

With that, Utakata stepped into his bubble, Fū mimicking his actions with the second one he'd created. A wave of his hand sent them floating down into the abyss, and Utakata felt a sliver of trepidation as the air around them grew thick, reminded uncomfortably of being surrounded by oinin and inhibited by the Mist Rain technique. He looked over and spotted Fū with her hands splayed against the bubble, glee stretching her lips wide as they descended.

Her blatant joy alleviated some of his apprehension, and the Kiri-nin felt himself relax. He focused on controlling their descent, the fog thinning out as they neared the bottom to reveal a stream cutting through the grey landscape. The two Drifting Bubbles burst with a quiet pop, and both Jinchūriki turned to gaze at the clusters of rock scattered around them. Fū started walking towards one of the piles and Utakata followed behind, trusting the kunoichi's sensory abilities.

She stopped suddenly and turned to face him, expression solemn. Utakata closed the distance between them and looked down at a scattering of charred bones, most blackened to pitch. "Is that…?" Fū began. The Kiri-nin nodded to her unfinished question, golden eyes fixated on Raiga's remains, and Fū stepped to the side and bent down. "Hey, Utakata-nii, this what you're lookin' for?"

In her hands were two three-foot swords, thin blades ending in leather hilts. Two short, curved protrusions – one near the hilt, one near the tip, oriented opposite each other – stuck out from each blade like fangs, giving the weapons their namesake. Utakata nodded mutely, taking the proffered weapons and wincing as a prickle of electricity – perhaps Kiba's innate lightning-natured chakra – danced down his fingertips, through his arms, and to his feet. It felt vaguely familiar, a memory from his childhood long buried.

"…Utakata-nii-ssu?"

He blinked out of his trance, meeting Fū's concerned orange gaze; he must have lost track of things in the nostalgia of handling his father's blades. "Yes, sorry. Yes, this is exactly what I was looking for." He offered her a small upturn of his lips. "Thank you, Fū."

She smiled back, shy, embarrassed, and the brunet took that as his cue to create another set of Drifting Bubbles that brought them back to where they'd left Gaara. The bubbles popped, and the redhead greeted them with a bland, "Did you find what you sought?" Utakata held up the blades for his scrutiny, a thin bolt of lightning crackling between the two fangs of one sword. Gaara flinched, teal eyes widening for a moment as he stepped away, breathing suddenly ragged, and when he spoke again, it was in a harsher-than-normal rasp. "You must be relieved."

"Pleased, actually," replied the Kiri-nin, tucking the blades back into his obi. "Are you okay? You seem—"

"Fine," Gaara said, and his voice had returned to its normal timbre. There was a pause, then, "Inoichi says healing requires honesty. I have learned that lightning is…deserved respect."

Utakata nodded. "Wise words."

Their journey back to Konoha was done in a roundabout, sedate manner, Utakata cautious (perhaps overly so) of running across any Akatsuki members who might still be skulking around the Land of Rivers. From behind him, Fū kept her focus on their surroundings, stretching her sensing abilities to their limit so they would have advance notice of any interlopers. Gaara, at the rear following a night of guard-duty while his two companions rested, was observing the natural world around them, teal eyes curious at each tree, bird, and mammal they came across.

Eventually, the Mist renegade slowed his pace to drop behind Fū, drawing even with Gaara and asking, "What are you doing?"

For almost a minute, the redhead's eyes remained fixed on the leafy boughs of some towering tree. Then he turned to Utakata and said, "Life is…strange. Plants and animals exist in a balance that humans…lack." Teal eyes returned to their surroundings, pointing with a rigid arm to one of several trees ahead and to the left. "That is a coast redwood. It is very young, as they can grow in excess of 200 feet. The bark holds large quantities of water"—he gestured around, as if referencing the Land of Rivers around them—"which affords protection from forest fires. They have existed for millenia, and have evolved to resist fungi and insect infestation."

"The Land of Wind isn't exactly known for its foliage," Utakata observed. "I'm impressed you know all that."

"I have taken to reading in my spare time." He turned deadset eyes on Utakata, the dark rings that marked his sleep deprivation making the teal coloring all the more prominent. "Of which I have much."

Utakata nodded, conceding the point. "What else have you learned?"

Gaara's slow monotone began, a litany of strange, seemingly useless knowledge about the passing flora and fauna that the brunet listened to with polite interest. It was surreal to hear the normally quiet boy speak, especially for long periods of time, and the Kiri-nin was admittedly curious to hear what could keep the Suna-nin's interest. Fū slowed down to listen as well, the pair asking questions to keep their companion talking.

When his voice eventually grew hoarse, beyond its normal desert-dry rasp, Fū took over, describing some of her studies from the Hidden Waterfall, all innocuous topics, with a heavy focus on the Hero Tree that was a centerpiece of the village. Utakata eventually jumped in, sharing his own stories of being brought up in the Hidden Mist. It was fascinating, he mused as they traded stories, how they were bonding over the most inconsequential things, the topics completely separate from the one thing that did bind them: their status as Jinchūriki. It was probably better that way, given what a depressing thread of commonality that was. By the time their voices were raw, darkness had fallen, and Utakata called for another night's rest.

Their fourth day of travel passed in relative silence, and by mid-afternoon, Fū indicated that she could sense Konoha in the distance. Heartened by the announcement, the trio agreed to pick up their pace, moving into an easy gait that left no room for conversation. Dusk was settling in when the Hidden Leaf's great walls came into view, and Utakata came to a sudden halt outside them, the two younger Jinchūriki skidding to a stop beside him. "Utakata-nii?"

He turned to face them, expression earnest. "I just wanted to thank you both for coming with me. I don't…I know that you may not understand how much this means to me, but…I don't think I could have done this without you both, and I know that you had no personal investment in my mission." He bowed deeply to them, a gesture he was sure neither had ever received before. "So thank you. I'm in your debt."

"Utakata-nii…you saved me from Taki when I thought I had nothing. When I was nothing. And now I'm here, and I've got you, and Naruto, and Gaara…" She paused, perhaps thinking of whether to include the two Iwa Jinchūriki, and simply continued, "We only have each other, right-ssu?"

Utakata glanced at Gaara, half-expecting the redhead to say something, but the Suna-nin only cocked his head to the side and blinked once. If the several days of camaraderie had taught him anything, he took that to mean the younger boy agreed with the kunoichi's assessment. He offered them a smile and another murmur of gratitude, even though it was apparently unnecessary. "If there's any fallout with the Hokage, I'll take the heat."

He got matching nods of assent before leading them through the gate and immediately being accosted by ANBU, one of which stated, "You're to come with us."

"I assumed."

They were taken to the Senju complex, where Utakata was led away, leaving Fū and Gaara alone in the foyer. "Will he be okay?" Fū asked.

Gaara made a noncommittal noise. "One assumes."

He received a nod in return. "Okay-ssu. I'm gonna go to bed. See you in the morning!"

"Sleep well," Gaara offered.

Left alone, he gravitated to his usual nighttime haunt, finding a moon on the cusp of full looking down on him. He stared at it for a long time, musing on Utakata's unfamiliar gratitude, especially towards him. It was novel, being appreciated, especially for something beyond the purpose he'd originally been created for. He hummed to himself, intrigued by the prospect.

"Mm, Sabaku no Gaara. We've found you at last."

Gaara turned his head in the direction of the unfamiliar, masculine voice, and then saw nothing but darkness.

Chapter Text

He awoke beneath the full moon's blue-white illumination. The desert was silent around him, an empty expanse emblematic of the feelings in his heart now that Yashamaru—

"You don't need him."

He clutched his head with small hands, fingertips caressing the fresh tattoo above his left eye. There was a voice – high-pitched, saccharine – cooing in his head. Wide teal eyes focused on the tiny flecks of some shiny metal gleaming in the moonlight. Gold… There had been an altercation with his father then—

"You don't need him either."

"Who…are you?" he whispered.

"I am the only one who will never leave you," murmured the voice. "The only one left you can rely upon. The one who will love you no matter what."

Gaara winced, frazzled mind searching for an answer in an evening filled with bombshells. "Mother?" he whispered, latching onto the one person he'd never met, the one he'd always hoped would support him. Yashamaru's words from earlier seemed like they'd been uttered years ago.

"Yes, dear," came the cooing response. "Trust in Mother."

Utakata collapsed on his bed, the toll of his adventure finally wearing on him. His confrontation with Tsunade, inevitable as it had been, had dragged under her clipped tone and quest for details, especially when he'd mentioned the run-in with Akatsuki. At the end of his tale, she and the silent man with long, sand-colored hair (who the Kiri-nin vaguely recognized as a frequent visitor to the compound) had apparently been satisfied with his recollection, and he'd been dismissed with the twin raitō Kiba still in his possession.

Now, after several days of travel and fighting, his physical and emotional equilibria desperate for stability, he was ready for a long rest.

Bang!

"Utakata-nii-ssu!"

He lifted his head off his pillow just enough to spy Fū appear around the doorframe with panic clear in her orange eyes. Most of her usual shinobi outfit was gone, leaving her in just a ratty t-shirt two sizes too large. At least she wasn't practically catatonic this time, like she'd been when faced with Kakuzu, he mused. "What's wrong?"

"Gaara's gone!"

That forced him into a sitting position, drowsiness buried beneath alarm. "What do you mean, 'gone'?"

"I could feel him on the roof," she explained hurriedly, "and then a bunch of strange chakra signatures came next to him, and then I couldn't sense him anymore-ssu!"

Utakata jumped off his bed, ice running down his spine. Akatsuki… It had to be; somehow, they must have recognized Gaara in the Land of Rivers, or followed up on his own partial transformation, and now they'd decided to capitalize on the Jinchūriki's unpreparedness. It was too much of a coincidence. "Fū, get Rōshi and Han—"

"What's goin' on?"

Naruto, rubbing sleep from his eyes and dressed in a light blue button-down shirt and matching cotton pajama pants, had appeared in the doorway. Fū slipped around him and left with only the brunet's half-spoken instructions. "Naruto, Gaara's been taken. Find Tsunade and—"

"No!" Now he seemed wide awake, blue eyes determined. "Let's go and—"

"Naruto, tell Tsunade. I know you want to help, but you need permission to leave the village, and we can't risk pissing her off again." More than we will, he added silently. The blond scowled at the older boy for a long moment until the Kiri-nin again urged, "Go!", and he took off. Utakata quickly scanned his room for any supplies he would need. Grabbing his bubble blower and chakra-infused solution, he rushed outside and into the courtyard, where Fū met him in her usual white skirt and sleeveless top. "Rōshi?" he probed.

Fū shook her head. "He said it's not his problem. Han didn't answer."

Utakata grit his teeth, casting aspersions on the Iwa-nin in his head. He worried his bottom lip, golden eyes flickering between the compound and the open road beyond the village walls. Trying to convince the redhead that he was selfish and wrong would likely go nowhere; the Four-Tails' Jinchūriki was nothing if not stubborn, and Gaara could rapidly be running out of time. "We need to go. Hopefully Naruto can convince Tsunade to send backup. Can you track them?"

"Mm-hm."

"Then lead the way."

The forest was haunting at night, even with the light of the nearly full moon filtering through the canopy. Their frenetic pace kept the brunet's kimono billowing behind him, drowning out the nearby sound of a hooting owl and the scratching of other nocturnal creatures skittering across tree branches. Utakata could hear his own heartbeat above everything else.

Golden eyes rapidly flickered around, alert for any ambush even though Fū would surely inform him of one before it ever happened. A flood of anxiety that was becoming uncomfortably familiar was coursing through his veins. Was Gaara alive? Why had Akatsuki decided to strike now? Could they save him, especially with just the two of them?

"Utakata-nii…" Fū's voice was a whisper in the night, tentative and scared. "We're catching up. What are we gonna do-ssu?"

He was silent for a long moment, trying to formulate a plan for the unknown on the fly. "Our only advantage is the fact that they don't know we're coming. We'll have to take them by surprise." The Kiri-nin thought of Kisame, and Samehada, and everything he knew about an S-class shinobi the likes of the swordsman. He brought a hand to his forehead and attempted to rub away the growing impossibility of the mission ahead. "Somehow."

Fū shot a glance backwards, but with his eyes shadowed by his hand, her concern went unnoticed. "…Things'll be okay, right? We'll get Gaara back…"

He briefly considered lying and then immediately shut the thought down; souring their relationship, which was on the upswing, would cost more than admitting the truth. "We're going to try, that's for sure."

The silence closed in again, oppressive and cloying. Utakata's fingers twiddled about his bubble blower, twirling the instrument agitatedly as he considered possible offensive measures. Akatsuki's abilities were such a huge unknown that the brunet wasn't sure there was a viable strategy he could come up with that would survive first contact without again resorting to Saiken's power.

A long sigh escaped his lips. With nothing to focus on but the mission, things seemed bleak. He cursed Rōshi and Han in his mind, their propensity for selfishness a scourge to his plans. They'd been operating in relative harmony for long enough now that he sometimes forgot the two Iwa-nin were not necessarily on board with his cooperative agenda to rescue Yagura.

He shook his head as if to rattle the uncharitable thoughts from his brain; that was the surest way to end up in a spiral of depression that would do nothing but distract him. Gaara needed his full attention if they were to save him.

"They stopped. At this pace, we're five minutes behind." There was a pause, and Fū's orange eyes found his. "What's the plan?"

"I'm going to trap them, you're going to get Gaara out, and then we're going to hit them with everything we've got."

"Will that work?"

"We'll find out."

Eventually, an orange glow from ahead threw their shadows into long relief. The two Jinchūriki slowed to find cover in the dark. It spoke of Akatsuki's arrogance that they were willing to stop and light a huge campfire in the middle of the Land of Fire without fear of reprisal from Konoha. He caught Fū's gaze and made a sweeping gesture with his arm. She nodded, disappearing into the depths of the surrounding forest where the growth was too thick for the firelight to pierce. The Kiri-nin peered around the tree he was hidden behind, taking stock of the four figures spread around the flames, and some fifth object lying nearby on the ground. Gaara… He waited another 30 seconds for the Nanabi Jinchūriki to get into position, dunked his bamboo blower into solution, and then brought it to his lips and expelled a flurry of bubbles.

The spheres floated along the outskirts of the makeshift camp, light flickering off their surfaces. His thumb and middle finger came together in preparation to activate Hōmatsu no Jutsu, the bubbles set to spew sticky green slime over the quartet, when a roar broke the quiet of the camp. A bluish-white serpentine creature ripped through his bubbles before they could explode, and he belatedly triggered the rest, spilling dark ooze around the perimeter of the grove. One of the figures stood up, picking up something beside him and then swinging it in the brunet's direction.

Utakata skipped away just before something heavy slammed through the tree he'd been hiding behind with a sickening crunch, creaking wood collapsing behind him. "You might as well show yourself!" called a young voice. The Kiri-nin grimaced, briefly weighed his options, and then stepped into the clearing, taking stock of those arrayed around the fire.

Nearest to him was a young, slight boy with short blue hair restrained by his angled hitae-ate. A white scarf wrapped around his neck trailed down past a dark sleeveless top and matching pants. In his hand was a tri-pronged sword, like a large sai made of gleaming sapphires. Next to the boy was a huge man wearing a silver breastplate shaped like a tiger's head. Chocolate-colored hair curtained his neck, making his face appear small despite his large size; he wielded what appeared to be a mace, large spikes decorating each face of a metal block.

Beyond them sat two more figures, one a woman with dark hair but bright highlights in her bangs, the other a sallow-looking man with dark, dusky hair. They were too far for the brunet to identify anything more distinguishable, but just the glimpse he had was enough to shift some of his anxiety to relief.

No black cloaks, no red clouds.

It's not Akatsuki.

It didn't change their situation – or the fact that they still had to rescue Gaara – but he felt much better about their chance for success now that he knew they were dealing with some random kidnappers. He couldn't see Fū; she must have still been in hiding, waiting for an opportunity.

One he could still give her.

Chakra built in his chest, fingers flying through seals. Chirōkyū!

White liquid spewed from the Jinchūriki's mouth and crashed into the fire, causing it to burst into a massive conflagration. The four shinobi jumped apart to avoid the roaring flames, and then Utakata found himself dodging the mace – which apparently doubled as a flail – followed by the sai-looking sword, its extended blades moving independently of each other, like an octopus' legs covered in glittering gems.

Then the fire he'd fed bent in an unnatural arc towards him, the heat searing against his pale skin. It set the surrounding forest ablaze, forcing the brunet to shield his eyes against rogue embers. Gathering chakra, his cheeks bulged and then expelled a Wild Water Wave in all directions with a turn of his heel.

"Hey, who's that?"

"Kujaku, stop her!"

"Duh, Ryūgan. Senmōfū!"

Wind whistled around them, and Utakata threw up an arm to shield his face from the effect of the Rotating Ferocious Wind technique. A surprised yelp made its way to his ears, and he glanced around to find Fū righting herself several dozen yards to his left. She met his gaze, apologetic, and he quirked his lips sadly in response, as if to say, 'it was a good effort'. As one, their eyes turned to the quartet arrayed before them, all wielding some type of weapon. The sallow-looking one, a black broadsword in his grip, demanded, "Who are you?"

"Eh, who cares, Hōki," complained the young, blue-haired boy. "We know what they want, and they can't have 'im. You and Kujaku should take Gaara and go. Suiko and I can take care of 'em."

"You can't have him!" Fū shouted. "Fūton: Daitoppa!"

The sole woman opposite them swung the pair of swords gripped in her hands. "Kazekiri no Jutsu!"

Fū's Great Breakthrough sputtered and died in the face of the Wind Cutter Technique, and Utakata sped through hand seals to summon an aquifer flowing beneath them. "Suiton: Suijinheki!"

Water erupted from the ground in a wide wall that shielded the two Jinchūriki from the incoming zephyr. The wind sent droplets spraying into the air from the Water Formation Wall, though the barrier held up until a serpentine creature crashed through it, its V-shaped head slamming into the Kiri-nin.

Utakata grunted at the impact, the blow throwing him backwards against a tree. He grit his teeth against the pain, glowering at the cause; the sky blue-colored creature – with its sharp teeth and snake-like body, it reminded the teenager of an eel, or a much more compact version of the Water Dragon Bullet Technique – seemed to jeer back, mocking him.

"Utakata-nii!" Fū kneeled next to him and put a hand on his elbow. "Are you okay?"

"I've dealt with worse." He stood under his own power, shaking the dirt from his kimono. "What is that thing? It moves like a liquid but hits like a solid. Water can do that, if concentrated to a small enough area, but it's still wet; that thing has no other liquid properties other than its fluidity and appearance."

"Not a fan of the Gariantō, huh?" It was the blue-haired boy, his voice too young for its haughtiness. "It is the pinnacle of Takumi's artisanship, so I understand your frustration." The eel-looking thing – the Gariantō, Utakata supposed – retreated to its wielder, swaying to and fro like a hypnotized snake before reverting back into the sai-like sword comprised of individual, sapphire-like fragments.

"Utakata-nii, these guys…I've heard of Takumi. They used to manufacture weapons for the main villages, real high-quality stuff. They've kind of faded into obscurity more recently, but…" she hesitated, orange eyes focused on the strange tools wielded by their enemies, "we should be careful."

"That's enough, Ryūgan." The large man with the mace didn't even glance at his companion, dark eyes watching the two Jinchūriki. Between his physique, armor, and deep, no-nonsense voice, he reminded the brunet of Han. "They don't need to know our cause. Let's crush them and get back to it."

"Fū!" Utakata hissed out the side of his mouth. "You need to go."

"Fine, fine. Have it your way, Suiko."

"But Utakata-nii-ssu—"

"Suiton: Suiwan no Jutsu!" Liquid dredged from the ground affixed itself to the Kiri-nin's limbs, the Water Arms Technique forming long tentacles that batted aside the heavy flail and multiple sword points that came towards him. "You're the only one that can track the two that took Gaara. Find them, beat them, and save him. I've got these two, don't worry about me." He spared her a glance after several seconds; Fū hadn't moved, hesitation apparent in the way she worried her lower lip, and Utakata, sensing their moment slipping away, shouted, "Go!"

She reacted to that, offering him one last look and a nod before leaping into the darkness. There was a shout from the blue-haired boy – Ryūgan – and the eel-like Gariantō swerved to give chase, but the brunet sent the water surrounding his left arm lashing out to strike the transformed sword's serpentine head and send it off-course.

Then the head of the mace rocketed through his defenses and smashed into his right shoulder.

Utakata barely heard the crunch of bone over his own pained howl as his clavicle broke. The Water Arms Technique collapsed, blood spilling over the brunet's blue kimono and through the fingers of the hand that came up to clutch at the wound. Heavy footsteps caused the Kiri-nin to look up into the impassive visage of the giant Takumi-nin, Suiko. "That was disappointing."

The teenager grimaced in response. It's not over yet. He spread his chakra through the ground, reaching for the aquifer he'd pulled from earlier. Suiton: Suigadan!

A spiral of water drilled up through the ground to impale Suiko, but the large man held up an arm, a bracer hidden by his loose sleeves deflecting the attack. The red eyes of the tiger-head armor glowed for several seconds – garnets gleaming in the night – and then faded, the Water Fang Bullet losing its cohesion and collapsing just like his Water Arms had.

"It was a valiant attempt," Suiko said, "but the Mugen Kōgai will stop your chakra." He lifted his foot and slammed the booted heel into – and through – the brunet's head.

The copy burst into greenish liquid and splashed over the large shinobi's boot, eliciting a disgusted frown. He gazed into the hole the teenager's body had been concealing, and after several seconds of examination, lifted his leg to examine a tickling sensation in his foot. The boot he'd used to destroy the Acid Clone was dissolving before his eyes; he shucked it aside and turned around, scanning the surroundings for any sign of the Mist shinobi.

"Where'd he go?"

"Underground, I suspect."

He's discerning, the Jinchūriki mused from beneath them, sitting in a burrow etched out by his acid, but arrogant. He couldn't imagine someone like Rōshi or Han, who had power to spare and had thrown him around enough times to prove it, to give away the secrets of their techniques after just a minor shift in momentum. The good news seemed to be that neither of his opponents were proficient with Earth Release ninjutsu, otherwise he would have been discovered by now; the bad news was that he needed to reengage or risk them going after Fū.

His chakra spread through the earth, saturating the underground. When it had seeped outward in a 50-foot radius, he focused on moving his hands into the correct seals, biting his tongue against the pain of his broken collarbone as he flipped from Snake to Boar. San-Sō!

The earth disintegrated in an instant, the Vat of Acid technique transforming his surroundings into a pool of hissing liquid. Chakra applied to the Kiri-nin's feet buoyed him atop the fluid as everything around him dissolved.

"Ooo, well isn't that a neat trick."

Ryūgan was crouched on a tree bough over 100 feet away. His head was cocked to the side, emerald eyes speculative. Utakata watched the boy, keeping an eye on the serpentine Garian Sword as it swayed back and forth like a metronome.

The brunet pirouetted to avoid the flail flying in his direction, returning to his previous position in time to meet the open maw of the eel-like creature. Razor-sharp teeth bit into his left arm, blood blossoming along the blue of his kimono. Teeth grit in pain, his golden eyes met the green ones of the transformed weapon, his limb a bone in the jowls of a dog. With a thought, the chakra covering his body fell away, allowing the Rokubi's mucus to erode the creature's teeth.

Experience told the brunet it should have taken seconds for the pain in his arm to recede, his acidic skin eating through the transformed sword. But those moments passed, and the serpentine creature only seemed to grin maliciously at him before lightning coursed along its length. His shriek mingled with Ryūgan's laughter, and then the mace that crashed into his sternum carried him outside the radius of his Vat of Acid technique.

"Had enough?" called Ryūgan.

"Your resilience is commendable," Suiko noted.

Utakata kept an eye on the pair as the larger man approached him, the blow from his weapon having dislodged the eel-like creature. This isn't going well.

"Konoha Senpū!"

A green blur zoomed past the Kiri-nin and hit Suiko with its foot extended. The attack sent the giant skidding back a short distance, and Utakata's savior landed between them with feet planted firmly and arms arranged in a ready stance. "You shall cause no more harm while I am here!" he announced.

Utakata recognized the exuberant voice before he registered the one-piece green jumpsuit and orange legwarmers protecting him. "You're one of Naruto's friends."

"Yes! Naruto-kun was most insistent on our assistance."

"Legally, I hope," the brunet muttered.

"We are here at the Hokage's behest, if that's what you mean," intoned another voice. Utakata craned his neck upwards to spy a dark-haired boy with white eyes, as well as a girl with brown hair pulled into twin buns that mimicked bear ears.

"Look Suiko, more main village shinobi!" Ryūgan sounded gleeful. "Now we can really show off Takumi's strength." The blue-haired boy stood up, the sapphire-looking segments of the Garian Sword sparkling. He paused for a moment, then let out a 'huh?', body frozen in place.

"Kagemane no Jutsu, success."

"Flies," grunted Suiko, "coming out of the woodwork." He threw his flail towards the two Konoha-nin, forcing them to scatter, then charged the green-clad boy. The Mist renegade watched them exchange blows for a moment, seemingly evenly matched despite their size disparity, before the long-haired boy slipped behind the giant's guard and quickly stabbed at him with his fingers.

From his periphery, Utakata caught Ryūgan's sword transform into its serpentine form, emerald eyes glinting with malice. It shot forward, unencumbered by whatever was restraining its wielder, sharp teeth opened to catch either of the boys unaware, and the Jinchūriki yelled a warning that was cut off by an authoritative voice barking, "Ino, now!"

"Shintenshin no Jutsu!"

The blue dragon froze feet from the green-clad boy's back, and Ryūgan seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. "Just in time." He dropped the sword, which transformed back into its tri-pointed form before hitting the ground. "Whenever you're ready!"

Utakata watched as the brunette girl appeared beside Ryūgan and slid a blade into his ribcage. The boy's body plummeted to the earth, his crash eliciting a soft whump that caught the attention of his larger companion. The other two boys took advantage of his distraction, the green-clad boy's heel driving into Suiko's chin while the brunet delivered palm strikes to the back of his knees. As he fell to his knees, Utakata heard a cry of, "Nikudan Hari Sensha!" before an enlarged sphere crashed onto the Takumi-nin from above, sending clouds of dust spinning into the air with its rotation. When the Spiked Meatball Tank finally ceased its rotation, a slightly pudgy boy in a green haori bounced backwards from the impact spot, lengths of wire looped through the handles of countless kunai falling slack with the lack of mass supporting them. The large Takumi-nin's unmoving body was buried within a semicircular divot.

The Kiri-nin blinked, impressed by their efficiency, even if they'd had an easier time outnumbering the two Takumi-nin three to one. "Well…" he said, clambering to his feet, "you have my gratitude."

"Ooo, this thing's kinda neat." The bun-haired girl straightened from where she'd bent down, the glistening Gariantō in her grip. Beside her, the exuberant boy in green was examining the weapon with curious eyes.

The long-haired boy stepped closer, followed by another boy with his hair held in a high spiked ponytail, the chubby boy, and a girl with shoulder-length platinum blonde hair. It was the second boy, with the strange hairstyle, who spoke next, timbre uninspired. "You look like you could use some help."

"True," Utakata admitted. Now that the adrenaline of the fight was wearing off, his injuries were becoming more apparent. "But I'm more concerned with my…associates."

"The Hokage sent more than just us as backup. You can relax. I doubt we have sufficient expertise to deal with the extent of your injuries, but…Ino, Chōji, think you can do something?"

"I've got some pills that might help," offered the boy in the green haori.

"Tsunade-sama hasn't taught me much, but maybe I can do something." The blonde girl approached and held up her hands to his injuries; Utakata flinched away from her reach, and Ino startled in response. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"It's not…you shouldn't touch me."

She caught his gaze, and for a moment, he felt transfixed by her pupil-less seafoam eyes, strikingly similar to Gaara's but swimming with emotion. "I don't have to," she replied, voice soft, and when he nodded his consent, the green glow that encompassed her hands illuminated a rosy flush across her porcelain cheeks.

As her chakra took the edge off the worst of his ails, Utakata looked back up at the spiky-haired boy, finding him in quiet conversation with his white-eyed companion. Finally, the latter nodded, and with a curt, "Lee, Tenten," they left in the same direction Fū had departed. "You're all very young to have been recruited for this mission," the Kiri-nin observed. "Numbers notwithstanding."

"Shikamaru's a Chūnin," Chōji defended, placing a pill into Ino's outstretched hand.

"I suppose that's something." He didn't like that his assumptions of late were so off, that the panic of losing one of their own to the most likely culprit – Akatsuki – had forced him to drastic, unplanned action. Of their group, he was supposed to be the calm one, the leader, as Fū and Gaara had dubbed him.

He needed to be better. Do better.

Utakata stepped away from Ino, gesturing that he was fine even though it was clear his body was still broken. "I need to go."

Shikamaru's perceptive eyes narrowed. "The Hokage asked that we accompany any non-hostiles back to the village."

"I'll deal with Tsunade when this mission is over. Gaara and Fū—"

His body froze, words halted at the surprise of losing control. Shikamaru's hands were held in the sign of the Rat. "I'm afraid I must insist."

Fū raced after the two Takumi-nin, desperate to catch them. She wasn't too surprised that Utakata wasn't familiar with the Village of Artisans; unless you were a merchant or weapons distributor, there wasn't much direct contact with it. Takigakure, as a minor village willing to look for alternative ways to increase its strength, had dealt with the craftsmen more frequently than those from the major villages, and Fū, as the Waterfall's (former) overseer, was familiar enough with watching them get trooped through Taki's entrances to eventually recognize their insignia.

It would be a lie to say she wasn't worried about Utakata; the brunet had already seemed out of his depth when she'd left, and it was unlikely that the situation would improve with her departure. Then again, he had just escaped both Akatsuki and those Hidden Mist shinobi, so it was possible she was underestimating him, especially since the two Takumi-nin probably weren't on the level of ninja her fellow Jinchūriki had dealt with, but…

She still didn't like it.

Unfortunately, he was also right that they couldn't get so distracted as to leave Gaara on his own, so she'd replaced her misgivings with trust in the older boy.

She could sense the two Takumi-nin up ahead, setting a decent pace that slightly lagged her own. Resolve to free her friend boosted her forward, and when they finally came into view, the Waterfall kunoichi wrapped herself in winds and propelled herself forward with a whispered, "Fūton: Kazaguruma Kōgeki."

The Windmill Strike pushed air from her hands and feet, sending her into a cartwheel intended to intercept the two Takumi-nin. Just before Fū reached her target, the Artisan kunoichi turned around and slashed at the air with her twin swords. "Senmōfū!"

Fū sliced through the incoming Rotating Ferocious Wind, her momentum slowed enough to give her two targets time to separate. She released her technique and used chakra to stick herself to a tree trunk ahead of them, staring the pair down with hard eyes. "You're not goin' anywhere. Give Gaara back!"

"Sorry, girly," spoke the man holding her friend on his back, "no can do." He reached back, hand going to the hilt of the black broadsword he'd used earlier.

"Hōki, leave this to me." The woman quickly proving to be the bane of Fū's existence brandished both shortswords at her. "You have to complete the mission."

"Hmph. Very well. She's all yours, Kujaku." Hōki turned to leave, and Fū quickly summoned wind to her fist that she aimed at him, releasing a miniature tempest. The Artisan kunoichi dove in front of the attack, slashing through it with her blades and sending it back at its conjurer. Fū moved to avoid it, and when she had found purchase elsewhere, the male Takumi-nin was gone.

As was Gaara.

She could sense their chakra disappearing to the east and made to go after them, but was waylaid by a zephyr that nearly blew her off her perch. "You're not going anywhere," Kujaku said.

"I will when you're outta the way," Fū shot back, fingers twisting through seals. "Fūton: Hikōkaze!"

A massive cyclone sprang up between them to lift her higher into the canopy, obscuring the area with swirling leaves.

"Fūton: Kazekiri no Jutsu!"

She could feel the chakra released from the pair of shortswords, the way the Wind Cutter Technique sliced through her Flying Locust Wind and killed its updraft. A quick application of chakra propelled her to a nearby branch, and then she was forced to release it to avoid the advancing Takumi-nin. The older kunoichi's blades cleaved through the bough the Jinchūriki had just vacated, and Fū twisted in the air, wind swirling around her right leg that blasted towards Kujaku with a kick. "Fūton: Senpūashi!"

Another slash of the swords sent the Whirlwind Foot back at its maker, and a quick Violent Wind Palm pushed her down, out of the way of the redirected attack. She landed with a crunch on the forest floor, leaves crushed beneath her feet, and looked up at the Artisan kunoichi. How's she doing this?

The Takumi-nin's high-pitched laugher caused her to scowl. "You can't beat me," she called. "The Fujaku Hishō Shōken I created amplifies my own Fūton nature to such a level that I can negate any other wind-based attacks." She leveled the Weaklessness Soaring Shortswords so they pointed directly at the green-haired girl. "Gōkūhō!"

Fū sensed the chakra thrumming along the weapons and coalescing in the tips before being released in a series of short, powerful bursts. She dodged the first discharge, coughing when the condensed wind bullet hit the ground with a heavy whump, kicking up dust and debris.

The next slug of wind slammed into her chest and laid her flat on her back.

She grunted with the blow as the Great Vacuum Cannon rained more invisible projectiles on her position. Most struck the earth around her, further obscuring the battlefield, and the green-haired girl instinctively curled into a fetal position to create a smaller target, yipping when one slug crashed into her knee.

After another 30 seconds weathering the hail of wind bullets, soaking several more hits in the process, the assault ended, and Fū stumbled to her feet amidst her opponent's crowing laughter. Orange eyes glared baleful holes through the Artisan-nin. The older kunoichi's blasé attitude and sheer ease at nullifying any wind-related offensive was just a reminder of her uselessness in the last several fights, her fright in the face of Kakuzu's mere appearance and inability to rescue Gaara both debilitating blows to her confidence.

Utakata always fought to persevere, even in the face of overwhelming odds, but the brunet had access to the power of his Bijū, an ability she sorely lacked. Then again, Naruto had the same spirit, and he didn't know how to use his Tailed Beast's chakra; Gaara, too, by his own admission, was training while handicapped and unwilling to accept defeat, drawing inspiration from Naruto.

She was no different; or at least, she was striving not to be. If her fellow Jinchūriki, her only friends, could fight despite the odds stacked against them, then there was no reason she couldn't either.

Wind swirled around her fists, and she punched them both forward with a shouted, "Fūton: Kōha Reppūken!"

Twin vortexes spiraled from her limbs, the twisters combining into a massive cyclone that ripped leaves and branches from their trees. Kujaku brought her two blades together, holding them as if they were a single blade, and swung at the incoming attack. "Kaze Gaeshi!"

A single slash sent the green-haired girl's own attack soaring back at her, and Fū used more wind to push herself out of the impact zone, the returned Hardliner Gale Fist still blowing her off her feet. "Give up, girly, you can't beat me."

"Gatsūga!"

Fū watched two grey twisters spiral towards the Takumi-nin, who deflected them with a wave of the swords and a summoned whirlwind. Kiba? she wondered, the boy's chakra familiar as he and a clone found purchase on a nearby bough. With her sensory abilities active again, two more chakra presences – both vaguely recognizable, although far more obscure to her than the dog-nin's – entered her awareness, the gentler of the two alighting before her with hands held up in a guarded position.

With a dual-slash, Kujaku sent out another Senmōfū. Fū felt Kiba and his clone escape the impact area, but the girl before her remained mostly unmoved, her arms seeming to windmill around her, chakra building around them. The former Taki-nin found herself mesmerized by her protector's movements, barely catching the other girl's whispered, "Shugohakke Rokujūyon Shō."

Chakra formed a protective barrier in front of them, to the Jinchūriki's senses a defensive latticework that the Rotating Ferocious Wind broke against, breezes wisping through both girls' short hair. With a smooth, practiced motion, the Leaf kunoichi's chakra sliced through the pair of shortswords from over a hundred feet away, severing blades from hilts, and Fū could sense the dumbfounded confusion rolling through the Takumi-nin as she stared at the neutered weapons.

The hum of hundreds of insects filled the clearing, darkness overtaking Kujaku's form. She screamed as they crawled from her legs to her torso, and then Kiba came barreling in from behind with a shout: "Tsūga!"

Kujaku crashed to the ground amid a mess of black beetles, and Fū could only watch as they consumed her form. "Her chakra will soon be depleted," announced a baritone voice, its owner stepping out from the shadows.

"Geez, Shino, sound a bit more excited, huh?" Kiba was walking towards them, his clone loping out of the forest and transforming back into the small white dog Fū remembered from their first encounter. "We totally kicked ass!"

"We should not be overconfident—"

"Um, Kiba-kun, Shino-kun, maybe we should—"

"Hi, yeah, sorry to interrupt, but…" Fū's orange eyes flitted among the three Konoha-nin arranged around her, finally settling on Kiba, whom she was most familiar with. "What're you guys doin' here?"

"Mission from the Hokage. Somethin' about Naruto and village safety?"

Shino's frown could barely be seen over the high collar of his thigh-length white-grey jacket. "More specifically, we were tasked with—"

Kiba flapped a hand in his teammate's direction. "I doubt she cares about the details, Shino. Shikamaru's in charge, so whatever. I'm just glad I was finally able to return the favor."

"Gaara's still in trouble—"

"Naruto-kun went ahead to save him."

Fū's senses found the blond even as the dark-haired girl before her explained the heading she'd given him. His chakra was nearing Gaara's and the boy's kidnapper, and all three felt…tumultuous. She turned her head backwards, where she'd left Utakata in an unfavorable position that seemed to have morphed into a different kind of mess. Bottom lip caught between her teeth, she teetered on the edge of decision, finally resolving to return to the older Jinchūriki with a turn of her heel. Kiba let out an 'oi!' of surprise as she bounded into the woods, and an even louder noise of surprise as the shortsword hilts rose into the air and soared east.

Naruto…I'm trusting you to save Gaara-ssu!

Gaara woke, disoriented and searching, to darkness. The last thing he remembered was staring at the moon, and then a voice announcing an unfamiliar presence…

A high-pitched yowl forced his hand to his head…or it would have if he could move his limbs. By his best guess, he was in some sort of coffin-like structure, barely enough room to breathe but for a couple of slits by his mouth. The noise echoed again, like a shriek coming from the bottom of a well, and he winced in protest. This sound…

He used his elbows to wriggle and hold his shirt up, then focused chakra down to his navel. Casting his gaze down allowed him to see the glowing symbol for 'wind' around his belly button, then two more indecipherable markings on either side, higher on his ribcage. The Gogyō Fūin is…coming undone. There must have been a powerful array at work to reverse the Five Elements Seal; Jiraiya had told him it could not be easily overcome, and, in an attempt to assuage his concerns, had taught him how to monitor and, if needed, interpret the status of the seal. That someone else could undo it was…concerning.

With the full moon nearly upon them, and the Five Elements Seal dissolving before his eyes, Mother's voice would only become more pronounced. He wasn't at a point where he could control—

"I can taste freedom!" Mother was giddy. "Give me blood!"

Focus, Gaara chanted, teal eyes shut tight against the squealing timbre in his head. I am not…a monster. Inoichi's calm voice and repeated assurances fought against the panic clawing, like his mother, for escape. I have…value…beyond killing…

"But it would please me! Gaara," cooed the voice, saccharine dripping like saliva, "don't you wish to please your mother?"

"I know…what you are." There was a slight tremor to his raspy monotone, but the words came out assured. "And you…are not…my mother." He opened his eyes, finding a foothold of sanity amidst the clamor of voices suddenly in his head – his father, his uncle, Naruto, Inoichi, Utakata, Fū, Mother – that seemed determined to press their opinions upon him.

Before him were multiple pillars, each comprised of two thick, braided threads of metal: one a dull silver color, the second an oxidized copper. The columns were arranged in a circle, the braids untwining at the tops and showing noticeable wear. Caged among the pillars was a tanuki with skin comprised of coarse-grained tan sand broken by erratic designs of blue squiggles. The creature sat on its haunches, its large tail, easily as long as its body, curled over its head. "You are the Ichibi."

"So the illusion is broken, hm?" The insane giggling that always seemed to accompany the tanuki's speech was gone, though its high-pitched amusement remained in every lilting syllable. "Well, can't say it wasn't fun while it lasted. Being imprisoned for the last several months, even more so than usual…" the voice was suddenly icy, devoid of humor, "not so much."

"You are unstable."

"So I deserve to be locked away, unable to feel the wind on my face, blood in my paws? Should the same be done to you?"

"I do not wish to be that person anymore."

"You ARE that person!" snarled the Ichibi, raising a paw and slamming it against the nearest pillars. A hollow sound like a clanging bell filled the space; Gaara flinched, though the Bijū seemed unaffected by the sound. Perhaps it was just used to it. "It is what we were designed to be."

He heard his own words to Inoichi echoed in the One-Tail's language and found the blond man's soothing responses in their sessions coming to mind. "That does not mean we need to conform to others' expectations. We must live for ourselves. Find another purpose."

"And what is that purpose?"

Gaara stared at the tanuki for a while, pondering the question. It wasn't the first time he'd been asked – Inoichi brought it up with some frequency, sometimes subtly, sometimes directly – but with his experience post-Hidden Sand, he'd never had a response he was confident in (if he gave one at all).

The people of Suna believed him to be a weapon of war, a tool to serve the village and nothing more. Twelve years of suffering under the hatred and fear of the villagers, his father's oppressive indifference, his uncle's apparent spite, all to make the Hidden Sand great. That was the role of a Jinchūriki, according to Rōshi; even Utakata didn't disagree.

But Utakata also said that people could support and depend on each other, a claim Naruto had echoed since their first meeting – one that had stuck with him – and Gaara found that ideal…comforting. Fū, too, despite her history with society, wanted to believe that others could be relied upon, could be friends, and the redhead thought that these people who were like him, people whom he admired for their convictions and strength – both in skills and, as he was slowly learning, of character – must also be assured that their beliefs were correct.

But even after months of weekly sessions with Inoichi and constant contact with the other Jinchūriki, Gaara didn't have an answer to the Bijū's question. It should have come up in his personal studies by now, the nightly hours he spent studying tomes from the Shodai's library, but nothing spoke of the psychology behind human behavior. He'd learned of gravity, astronomy, taxonomy, botany, biochemical processes like the nitrogen cycle and photosynthesis, history…yet he had no greater understanding of people than when he'd been a citizen of the Hidden Sand. Utakata's words from their last outing were stuck in his head, a prominent reminder that there were still many things – important things, the things that made the brunet and Naruto and Fū tick – that he needed to learn.

Naruto had saved him, Fū had befriended him, Utakata held a wisdom the redhead was missing…and despite all that, the Suna-nin still lacked faith in their philosophies. He wanted to believe – he even echoed their words at times, as if saying them would make them true – but there remained a nagging voice, the ghosts of his father and uncle, that insisted it was all hollow.

"Are you ignoring me?!"

"No."

Utakata often spoke of Yagura in a familial context; Naruto and Fū had even taken to referring to the brunet as their older brother, those ties giving them purpose. And they seemed happy with their connection, as if they found joy with one other.

He mused on his own siblings, Temari and Kankurō. Was there ever a time when they'd looked at him without fear? When he'd looked at them rather than through them to see actual people, his own flesh and blood, and not some inconvenience interfering with his homicidal urges?

"…" Nothing was coming to mind. The years between Yashamaru's death and Naruto's intrusion into his life were a whir of memories steeped in hatred and darkness, the moments indistinct. There was nothing during that timespan that was important, not in the same way that things felt now, where he listened to and digested the opinions of others, sought self-improvement, had…friends.

Perhaps that was the connection Utakata had been referring to when he'd spoken of not just having but experiencing a sibling relationship, the brothers-in-arms Inoichi often talked about. Teammates. Siblings. Could Naruto, Fū, Utakata…possibly be that to him?

"…I," Gaara began, coarse voice slow, working through the converging trains of thought, "will prove my strength…by forging connections to people…who will not forsake me."

"I won't forsake you—"

"You…have deceived me…my entire life," he interjected. The edge that had always been present when he'd dealt with his siblings, with anyone who didn't deserve his attention, who was beneath killing, had snuck back into his timbre. He felt, for the first time in a long time – if not ever – angry. "You preyed on the sorrow and solitude of a child who did not know better and only wished for someone to lo—" The word stuck in his throat, unspoken; Inoichi called it a 'trigger', one that he hadn't yet fully resolved.

"I was not the one who chose to be sealed inside a boy too juvenile to accept the power he was bestowed," the Ichibi shot back. "Nor did I ask to be relegated between a tea kettle and you sacks of flesh, the last of which finally granted me the possibility of freedom I have been denied for so long." It shoved one sandy paw forward, pointing at the redhead with a sharp, black-tipped claw. "You are not the only victim of circumstance here, nor am I the only one here to take advantage of the other."

Gaara nodded slowly, digesting the bevy of information the One-Tail had just admitted to him. It seemed his father had wronged more than just himself, which wasn't altogether surprising. "Then it is not to either of our benefit to blame the other for what has passed."

The tanuki cocked its head to one side. "Eh?"

"Perhaps it is time to put the past aside."

"…Well that's different."

"I have learned to consider new information as it is presented to me."

"What a novel concept!" The Ichibi seemed genuinely amused by the notion. "And what have you learned so far?"

"More than can be explained in one sitting. Although…there is still much I do not understand."

"The whole of humanity and everything that precedes it cannot be learned in a single lifetime."

Gaara blinked. "That is…profound."

"I am not the fool my siblings believe me to be."

"You have siblings?"

"Why are you surprised? You've met the container of one of them. The small blond boy." The Ichibi raised a paw and scratched at its head, the mannerism oddly human. "Things are kind of fuzzy. I don't remember much after fighting the Kyūbi's human."

"Perhaps that is the result of the Gogyō Fūin blocking our connection," Gaara mused, cupping his chin in thought.

"Oh? Not bad for a human."

"You say the Kyūbi is your sibling? That the Bijū…are related?" For all his recent musings on familial relationships, it seemed most ironic that the creatures within him, Naruto, Fū, Utakata, even Rōshi and Han, were already siblings, potentially lending strength to the humans' ties to one another. "I am in contact with more than one."

"Ah, I thought I'd sensed that prideful ape, but I assumed it was a figment of my imagination. Anyone else?"

He tried to think of what he knew of the other Jinchūriki; only Utakata seemed okay with talking about their situation, and Gaara hadn't always cared enough to listen to what he said. "You are aware of the Kyūbi inside Naruto. And…an ape?"

"His host would manipulate lava."

"Ah." Rōshi. "Utakata often speaks of a…" he dredged his memory for a name. "…Saiken?"

"Oh, Saiken's here? That's the best news so far."

The tanuki sounded almost pleased to hear that, which was…weird, considering its attitude thus far. Maybe its relationship with Saiken was similar to how Utakata spoke of Yagura? "There is also Han and Fū."

"There's more?!"

Gaara ignored the One-Tail's shock and tried to think if the Iwa- or Taki-nin had ever mentioned what Tailed Beast they contained, but nothing came to mind; just the memory of the Rock shinobi's brief transformation weeks prior. "Han is proficient with steam, when he does not use taijutsu. Fū… She can detect things. And uses Fūton."

The Ichibi snickered, apparently amused by something he'd said. "Sounds like Kokuō and the stupid bug. I guess two outta five ain't bad."

"It does not seem as if you enjoy the company of your siblings."

"Some are better than others. Most are just full of themselves."

"…Mm. I would be interested in learning more about your relationship with them."

"And how is that possible when you have a seal blocking our connection?"

Gaara absorbed the question with his usual stoicism, mulling the conundrum. The Ichibi had a point, which was kind of a shame, because their conversation was proving more fascinating than the Suna-nin would have anticipated. But there was also the undeniable threat that the One-Tail posed to both the redhead's recovering mental state and to the physical well-being of him and his…friends. "Given the years of deception and manipulation, I believe my caution is understandable."

"I already said—"

"The reason for your actions is defensible," he interjected, "even if the actions themselves are not. I cannot offer you forgiveness for what was done, but…nor will I offer condemnation. Especially not after an objective evaluation of my own actions. I think…we have both been mistreated. Perhaps, just as I have received a second chance, you deserve one as well."

The Ichibi stared at the diminutive redhead with golden irises that seemed to spin in their sockets with silent scrutiny. "Heh, you're pretty interesting. For a human, anyway."

"I disagree." The redhead stared at his hands, appearing to trace the lines in his palms with only his eyes. "I am…unremarkable. To think otherwise would be to elevate myself above those who have already proven themselves…greater. I am no more than…someone trying to learn. To…mm, 'course-correct', as my sensei says."

The Ichibi cackled. "How time changes things! I would be quite curious to witness the travels of this new course you speak of. So, what are your terms?"

"Terms?"

"We are at an impasse. You seem to hold all the power right but, but it seems you wish to grow beyond what we once were. So what sort of path forward do you propose?"

"…The others," Gaara began, his coarse voice measuring every word with care, "…they are trained in their abilities. As…Jinchūriki. They are…powerful." He took a deep breath as the last word left his lips, the concept still evoking a lingering hunger despite months of therapy to grow past it. Inoichi said he was getting better every session though. It took several seconds of meditative calm to push past the feeling, and the Ichibi simply watched while he breathed, appearing to understand the moment, the boy's struggle, or both. Finally, he continued, "They also have…control. I desire that."

"Control takes time," the One-Tail replied, "and experience. But…" the tanuki cocked its head to the side, as if listening to something beyond their cavern. "It seems an early opportunity has presented itself."

"You are…amenable to my wishes?"

"So long as you don't shut me out again."

"You cannot usurp my body," Gaara added. The concept had just occurred to him, practically an afterthought. "If I require more of your strength, I…we will work together."

"Heeheehee, look at you with the newfound confidence! You've got spunk for a runt; kinda like a kindred spirit. I can work with that. You've got yourself a deal, kid. Just in the nick of time, too." Gaara noticed that his vision seemed to be wavering. He shook his head, placing a palm to his forehead in an attempt to nurse the effect. "Good luck with the test run."

As everything faded to black, he vaguely registered the Ichibi's voice, amusement clear in its high pitch, add, "If you don't wanna call me Mother, just call me Shukaku!"

Gaara returned to reality with a tingle coursing through his body and sparking at his fingertips. The wooden casket that kept him contained now seemed to have an obvious escape: several metallic latches on his left that resonated with his chakra. His fingers twitched, and the clasps gave way with a series of clicks. The front of the casket creaked open, and the redhead winced against the early-morning light after too long in the dark.

"Gaara!"

He turned west to find Naruto racing towards him, and a rare upswell of some positive emotion he couldn't name in the moment flooded him at the sight. Naruto…followed. It was a pleasant reminder of the blond's dedication to his multiple credos, and the devotion he had to his friends. The Leaf Genin stopped in front of him, blue eyes wide. "You're okay?"

Gaara gave a solemn nod and offered his friend a noncommittal noise. At the reassurance, Naruto began to look around, and the redhead, to his own surprise, asked, "How did you get here?"

After the question left his lips, he realized he meant to ask 'Why are you here?', but Naruto was already stumbling through an explanation that involved Utakata and Tsunade and then a flurry of other names he didn't recognize. The flood of people was cut off when the blond interrupted his own train of thought, posing, "Hey, is that the guy that took you?"

Gaara followed the younger boy's gaze and found a tall man with grey hair that stuck out past his shoulders as thick, straight tufts. The rest of the man's form was shrouded in an oversized kimono, beige but for thin red stripes at the cuffs. A golden circlet glinted around his forehead, and with his rigid posture, he appeared almost regal. He absorbed his surroundings with a methodical slowness Gaara found familiar. "I do not know," he admitted, "but I have doubts."

"Well what about all that stuff?"

The redhead followed his friend's finger, finding several unidentifiable objects soaring towards them…or more specifically, at the old man across from them. A metallic tiger's head settled itself over his midriff, then a tri-pronged sword made of rhomboid sapphires broke into three separate blades and attached themselves at his waist, arcing to the side and over his head like multiple scorpion tails. Green motes of light flashed into existence over each shoulder and at his feet, and as he lifted off the ground, a black broadsword before him did the same, the hilt slotting into the nose of the tiger's-head armor like a rhinoceros' horn. Two shorter swords, blades sheared off, joined together into a sort of glaive that bent around his form and connected to the tiger's head, their sharp edges growing back with a flash of green light.

Gaara blinked. "Unexpected."

Beside him, Naruto swore. "That can't be good, right?"

Then the man's eyes found them, and a vortex of fire swirled around the black broadsword before bursting towards them with a blast of wind. Gaara curled his fingers into a fist, and sand sprang from the earth in an arcing wall that intercepted the inferno. "Whoa," Naruto breathed. "Gaara, that was awesome!"

The redhead's teal gaze was fixed on his hand; it had been months since he'd felt this kind of power, where sand was immediately available and receptive to his command. It reminded him of—

"Gaara!"

His head snapped to the blond, the blood rushing through his veins drowning out everything else. Naruto seemed to be saying something, his mouth forming shapes, but he heard nothing until the Leaf Genin reached out, seemingly in slow motion, and placed his hand on the redhead's shoulder. "—okay?"

"Heeheehee, the power is intoxicating, hm?"

"I—" His mouth was dry. Shukaku's voice in his head seemed especially loud despite the almost normal voice the tanuki had spoken with. "I can handle it," he said, unsure who he was talking to.

"I do not know who you are," announced a deep voice. The two boys looked up to find the grey-haired man floating above them on large green orbs of, presumably, chakra. "But you are in my way."

"You're not goin' anywhere!" Naruto shouted. "No one takes my friend and gets away with it! Suiton: Mizurappa!"

The Wild Water Wave threatened to douse the floating man, but a blast of air dispersed it, and his grey eyes focused on Naruto. The sapphire-looking accessories speared towards the blond, and Gaara reached out a hand to protect the Leaf shinobi.

The incoming blades stopped. Gaara blinked; he'd been expecting another shield of sand to interpose itself between the weapons and his friend, not…this. A twitch of his fingers sent several of the sapphire-like segments clattering against each other, and as he rotated his wrist, the tips of the blades twisted on the wires threaded through each sapphire-like piece to point back at their originator. Sweat dripped down his temples.

There was a weak giggle in his mind. "Sorry kid, not a lotta juice in the tank. Someone drained me."

Gaara stared at the man floating above him, whose grey eyes had switched to watch him instead of Naruto. I assume he is the culprit. But this power…it is…familiar. An image of his father, sitting behind the Kazekage's desk sans hat, came to mind, a cloud of gold dust dancing within his upturned palm. You know Jiton?

"One of my many talents."

Moth—Shukaku sounded smug, though he had a hard time appreciating the demon's conceit when the strain of holding the weapons at bay were making his joints heavy as lead. His prior strength was back, but with it came an unfamiliar exhaustion, every move taking extra energy. Utakata's weakened state on their last mission came to mind, a rebound effect of utilizing the Rokubi's chakra. This must be similar.

Fortunately, Naruto had jumped at the opening, literally leaping towards their opponent through the gap in the blades. He landed a punch to the grey-haired man's jaw, feet finding purchase on one of the many accessories encircling his form in order to grasp the older man's shoulders, flip over his head, and pull him to the ground. Their enemy landed with a heavy thud, and Naruto slapped his palms to the ground. "Doton: Tewonigiru no Jutsu!"

The Grasping Hands Technique formed earthen appendages from the ground that reached out to grab the downed man. They wound around the shinobi's body, holding him down, but then before Naruto's eyes, the appendages fell apart, and a blast of wind sent the boy careening skyward with a yelp. Gaara reached out a hand, and sand rushed to his friend's aid to create a floating platform that cushioned the blond's fall. He brought the Konoha-nin to his side, and Naruto offered him a quick, "Thanks."

"Mm."

"Damn, I thought that would work. Did I do it wrong?"

Gaara again raised a barrier of sand that intercepted a second conflagration of wind and fire. "He seems reliant upon his accessories."

Naruto jumped off the sandy platform to land beside him, fireballs in his hands. He leaned around the redhead's defense, hurling the Flame Attack projectiles at their opponent and then ducking back behind the barrier. "The swords and armor? Makes sense. What're you thinkin'?"

"Separate him from his tools." The silica around them shifted, forming into a cavalcade of weapons. "And do it quickly." His head was throbbing, the heaviness in his bones intensifying.

Naruto nodded, bounding away as the Suna-nin sent the granular weapons into battle, sand clashing against the various blades wielded by their enemy. Teal eyes flitted from one clash to the next, fingers twitching to control how each weapon parried the enemy's. The segmented blue blades suddenly transformed into serpentine creatures – eels, or dragon's heads perhaps – that tore through his sandy weapons like they were wet paper, and Gaara clapped his hands together to summon the scattered silica back to him and create a shield.

He felt one of the eel-things crash against his shield, but the other two diverged around it. Gaara clenched a fist and the sand responded, encasing him in the protective sphere that normally served as a precursor to releasing the Ichibi. They slammed into his defense, and a momentary trickle of…fear, or something akin to it…shuddered through him; the last time he'd been in this situation, Uchiha Sasuke had shoved lightning into his shoulder, and nothing had been the same since.

This time his defense remained impenetrable, and with it, some of his old confidence returned. He placed his pointer and middle fingers over his right eye, closing the lid to focus on summoning his Third Eye. It opened, showing Naruto fighting against the grey-haired man, his taijutsu seemingly ineffective against the man's armor. In fact, their enemy barely seemed to move at all, his weapons doing all the work.

It was confirmation of what he'd guessed; the old man fought like Gaara did, or like how he used to before he'd been forced to branch out. With his left hand, he sent a tendril of sand to lash out and wrap around Naruto's waist, bringing the blond back towards the sandy sphere. The serpentine creatures attacking his barrier turned their attention to his friend, and the blond slashed at them with a kunai to avoid their needle-like teeth. Gaara dropped the Third Eye and sand sphere techniques to create maces from the silica that batted at the dragon-looking weapons.

They were knocked away with a few well-placed hits, and Gaara finished roping the Konoha-nin back to his side. "Hey, why'd you—Gaara, are you okay?"

He could feel a dampness on his brow, moisture soaking his clothes; an entire life in the desert, and he'd never broken a sweat. Something is wrong. Even Shukaku sounded like it was panting in his head. "I have an idea."

Gaara's sand swirled around them, erecting another barrier, and Naruto turned with the motion, slapping his hands to the ground and pushing chakra into it. "Doton: Doroku Gaeshi."

The Earth Shore Return raised a second wall behind the redhead's hasty defense, but the tips of two swords sheared through them, inches above the heads of the two crouching Genin. "I may be able to remove his armor and stop his swords. You will have to attack in that opening. It will need to be strong."

Naruto's eyebrows were furrowed. "I think I've got somethin'," he said, "but will you be alright?"

The blond's concern was touching, and Gaara was honored by his consideration, but he knew there was no time to focus on whatever was happening to him, and Naruto was liable to be distracted if his suspicions were confirmed. So the Suna-nin nodded, managing a raspy, "Go," and they again separated as the three serpentine creatures dove for them.

One peeled off to follow Gaara, and the Sand Genin held out a hand to stall its assault, his Magnet Release finding and holding the metal hidden inside the eel-looking weapon in place. The chakra comprising its liquidy exterior gnashed its teeth at him in a gesture the redhead assumed was meant to be intimidating but instead came off as frustrated. He kept an eye on it, unsure if the chakra could extend much further past its interior blade, and extended his free hand toward the floating man, setting up a magnetic field that repelled the enemy's various blades.

Gaara could see the old man frown as his weapons stopped obeying his commands. His grey eyes turned to the redhead, and a fiery vortex burst from the black sword set into his chestplate. The ground rose in front of Gaara, another Earth Shore Return summoned by Naruto from beyond his field of vision, and the Suna-nin focused his attention on the tiger's head protecting their opponent's body.

Something wet was trickling from his nose, a dribble trailing along his upper lip and poisoning his mouth with a metallic tang. "Blood," Shukaku murmured in his mind, "and it's yours."

For all the years his sand had absorbed blood from others, he'd never actually tasted it himself. It was…unpleasant. There are…larger issues…at hand. He grunted with exertion as the chestplate strained against its harness. This…will…work…

His arms made a pulling motion, and with it came the chestplate, the black broadsword, and the older male's equilibrium. The grey-haired man pitched forward, still floating on his green chakra orbs, and Naruto leaped to meet him, hands held in front of his chest with enough space between them to carry a small melon.

Instead of fruit, the blond was holding a fist-sized sphere of swirling red- and yellow-colored magma. Two feet from the old man, his left arm fell away and his right one thrust forward. "Yōton: Rasengan!"

The orb impacted the enemy's sternum, skin sizzling as the Lava Release technique ate through it. A gasp sounded into the blond's ear, the old man's head hovering by his own. Naruto retracted his hand, the lava in his palm having dissipated after burning through the man's back. He pushed away from the body, landing gently on the ground as the corpse dropped with a heavy whump. "I've almost got it," he whispered, staring at his hands. Victory curled his fingers into a triumphant fist, and he turned around to proclaim, "Hey Gaara, we—Gaara!"

The redhead was face down on the ground, pale form prostrate. Naruto ran to him and turned the boy's body over to check for a pulse. He breathed a sigh of relief when it thumped under his fingers, weak but consistent. "C'mon," he said, kneeling down to hook his friend's limp arm over his shoulders, "let's go home."

Chapter Text

Pupil-less brown eyes opened lethargically to blank white walls and the smell of antiseptic. They roved about the sterile room and fell upon a short man with dull brown hair, thick eyebrows, and a neatly trimmed goatee. Sharp black eyes like coal fixed upon him over a bulbous, freckled nose. "You're finally awake, eh?" The man's voice was a gravelly rasp, like rocks tumbling over each other in an avalanche.

He tried to ask who the man was, but his voice was in even worse condition than his associate's, escaping his mouth in a wheeze. The short man tilted his head with detached curiosity. "Ah, you're recovering from some significant changes, I wouldn't try to talk. I'll make this as short and simple as possible.

"I'm the Tsuchikage. We found you way out in the country following a cataclysmic event; out of convenience, you were selected to contain a renegade Bijū, and brought here for recovery."

He turned away from the bed and crossed his hands behind his back; he began moving around the bed, and brown eyes widened with shock as they took in the sight of the older man floating a foot off the floor. "Your appearance makes it obvious that you're not from Iwa, but your history doesn't interest me; your future does.

"You see, the Bijū are great and terrible weapons. And while you were selected by convenience, I place far more value on loyalty." Coal-colored eyes turned to him, depths void of feeling. "Pledge your fealty to me, and accept the life I can give you, or refuse, and we'll extract the demon and put it into a more willing subject. Your life will be forfeit."

There didn't even seem to be an option, but whatever the Tsuchikage was offering couldn't be as bad as the lightless pit he'd come from. He gave a slow, continued nod, so his acceptance couldn't be confused for anything else. The old man smiled at him, and he was reminded uncomfortably of the way his captors would look at him: curious, cold, and devoid of cheer. "Smart boy.

"Welcome to Iwagakure…Han."

Utakata resisted the urge to fidget under Tsunade's unflinching stare. Her hands were laced beneath her chin, mouth pursed in a thin line, and honey-colored eyes seemed to be staring through him; everything about her expression made him feel like he was being subjected to a crushing pressure, and it was only a matter of time until he succumbed. He could see, not for the first time, why she had been selected as Hokage, her piercing look shrewd and imposing.

He was reminded briefly of how Kisame looked – threatening, possessed of a glimmer of madness and intense bloodlust – but then again, the swordsman wasn't meant to be a leader. They both just happened to…carry themselves with a presence that captured attention.

And Utakata was used to obeying authority.

"I'm sorry about—"

"I'm not interested in your platitudes," Tsunade interrupted. "I get enough meaningless political niceties spoon-fed to me throughout the day, I would prefer not to hear them in my own home. Especially since this isn't the first occurrence." Utakata remained silent at the rebuke, mentally conceding that she had a point. "I am, however, interested in understanding this seemingly repeated need of yours – and your compatriots – to undermine the rules I set in place for you."

"I…understand your frustration," came the slow response, "and I would offer another apology if you were open to accepting it. But I can't stress enough the urgency of this latest…indiscretion. We had only recently escaped an encounter with Akatsuki, and it came to our attention that Gaara had likely been kidnapped, so you can understand our concern."

"Yes, I can fathom the scenario which led to our current situation," Tsunade retorted with exaggerated sarcasm. "And in many ways, your actions could be considered commendable. I can't say that I'm overly familiar with the way Kirigakure inspires its shinobi, at least in modern times, but what you did was in line with our belief in the Will of Fire, and I would be remiss as the Hokage to not recognize that." Her hands moved away from her face, one accusatory finger stabbing towards him from across the table. "However, you are no Konoha-nin, and your actions put my shinobi in harm's way."

"…I dissuaded Naruto from coming," he replied weakly.

"Again, commendable. And inarguably appreciated. But you obviously underestimate the impact you've had on Naruto, which, while admirable to some degree, also makes him a huge pain in the ass. I don't think you appreciate how unprecedented your little group is, nor the precautions that need to be taken when dealing with anything surrounding any one of you." She sighed, rubbing at her temples as if trying to alleviate the headache this very conversation was bringing on. "The resources we're utilizing to track Akatsuki's movements would shock you; that we're still recovering from the Suna/Oto invasion while maintaining normal village functions and responsibilities means that devoting resources – even if they are mostly Genin, albeit highly skilled ones – to extraneous tasks is unnecessarily burdensome."

"…I understand. And you're right. Your hospitality has been more than gracious. I'll try to be more considerate moving forward." There was a moment of silence as he waited for the blonde to acknowledge his concession, but when nothing was forthcoming, he hedged, "If I may ask, why are you so…forgiving? There are many village leaders who would not abide by such insubordination, especially from someone who, as you note, has no fealty to you."

Tsunade drummed her fingers against the tabletop, head resting in the palm of her other hand. She almost appeared bored with the conversation. "Decades ago," she began, "when the Five Great Shinobi Nations were young, my grandfather, the Shodai, attempted to broker peace with the other Kage by exchanging the Bijū under his control for non-aggression treaties. The Sanbi, Yonbi, and Hachibi were all given away as a show of good faith by Konoha.

"My granduncle, who was present at the Kage Summit, was more skeptical than my grandfather. His chronicles indicate that, while he believed his brother naïve, he also could not usurp his authority; in the event the treaties did not work, and with no option but to deal with the repercussions of the Shodai's decision, his hope was that the distribution of the Bijū would provide a power balance among the villages that would create a cold-war atmosphere to stave off future conflict.

"As time has shown, neither of those things came to pass." Tsunade's voice was wry. "The major villages engaged in endless conflict, each of them utilizing their new weapons wrapped in human form."

"Jinchūriki," Utakata breathed. He'd never heard this story before, likely because Saiken had been native to the Hidden Mist prior to his capture and sealing. "But Konoha had its own Jinchūriki with the Kyūbi, did it not?"

"Created only to prevent further assault from one of our own," Tsunade replied. "The first Jinchūriki, my grandmother, was not one to support unnecessary conflict. While Konoha has her own shadowed past, she was not the aggressor in the wars that followed. Nor did Konoha seek the remaining Bijū, as the other villages did."

"…Fair enough," the Kiri-nin granted. "But what does any of that have to do with—"

"I'm providing context," interrupted the Hokage waspishly. "My point is that the old way of doing things has not panned out the way people have intended. The Bijū – and by extension, the Jinchūriki – are powerful chess pieces that have been utilized as instruments of war for nearly a century despite the wishes of my grandfather and granduncle. Removing those pieces from the board may reestablish equilibrium across the Elemental Nations."

"Assuming the other villages don't resent your hoarding of the Bijū, in which case you could be fostering an environment in which the other nations ally against you out of resentment or fear."

"Which is why I have not courted any of you to join Konoha," Tsunade pointed out, "in addition to my continued requests for your discretion."

"Ah…" Now knowing her intentions, he felt properly chastised and even more chagrined. "You're quite unique, Hokage-dono. I don't think any other leader would approach this situation the way you have."

"Those who seek power most often have ill intentions and are further corrupted by it." Her chair scraped against the floor as she pushed away from the table and stood up. "I only seek to prevent bloodshed and preserve the lives of my shinobi as much as possible. That is the credo of an iryo-nin. Now, if you'll come with me…"

Utakata rose slowly at her request, stiff despite the patch job she'd performed on him upon his arrival. "Not to be contrary, but where are we going? And why do you want me to join you?"

"To see your friend. And obviously because the other Jinchūriki see you as their leader." She led him to a different room within the Senju compound, where Gaara's body was lying prone beneath a pristine white sheet. Sitting on the next bed was an exhausted Fū, whose head of mint green hair kept falling onto Naruto's shoulder before shooting upright; the blond's fingers were twiddling in his lap, one leg bouncing in a display of nerves. Tsunade shot the pair a scrutinizing side-eye that then floated towards the room's corner, where Utakata noticed Jiraiya was reclining, arms crossed over his broad chest. The Hokage said nothing, instead moving over to Gaara's side and running green-glowing hands over his form. "He's stable," she announced, and Naruto let out a breath that sounded like he was holding back several questions. "Jiraiya, you reapplied the seal?"

"You betcha, hime."

"No…" croaked a familiar rasp. All eyes flickered to Gaara, whose pupil-less teal eyes were open but hooded. "I have…an arrangement…"

"Explain," Tsunade demanded, at the same time Jiraiya cocked an eyebrow and asked, "An arrangement?"

Gaara's head moved in a slow bob. His normal deliberateness seemed more like an intense lethargy. "With…" he frowned, eyes rolling around in search of a descriptor, "…Shukaku."

"Elaborate further."

"We agreed to…start anew," came the slow response. "Control for…freedom. Or…a facsimile of it."

"You…you made contact with Shukaku and struck an accord with him?" Utakata sounded stunned.

Naruto cheered and pumped a fist into the air. "Hey, way to go, Gaara! If only the bastard fox wanted to play nice…"

"That sounds incredibly dangerous," Tsunade noted flatly, "especially considering how untested this is."

"Ah, Hokage-dono," Utakata interjected. "During our earlier conversation, you mentioned that the actions of our predecessors had not worked out as intended. My experience is that treating the Bijū as our enemies has had similar results. If you want to change the outcome, then a different approach is required."

"And your suggested alternative approach is to allow an unstable Jinchūriki unfettered access to a demonic entity?" Tsunade retorted wryly. "You understand my skepticism."

"In fairness, hime, we were attempting the same thing with Naruto not too long ago," Jiraiya said. "Don't you think we should treat the kids the same if the opportunity arises?"

"I'll remind you that Naruto is a shinobi of Konoha, and thus, despite my misgivings in this particular vein, someone whose growth we should be fostering." Her gaze flickered around the round, and Utakata felt as if her expression was saying 'unlike everyone else here'. Jiraiya appeared unaffected by her tone, and she asked, "So you'll have a strategy for if he loses control and summons the Ichibi?"

"I've restrained him previously, so I don't see that being a problem."

"We can help, too," Utakata added. Naruto was vigorously nodding his agreement in the background.

Tsunade rolled her eyes. "How reassuring. Fine." She pointed at the Kiri-nin. "You have a point, which is really just because it's my point; society cannot improve if those leading it are unwilling to change. Jiraiya?"

The white-haired man stepped up to the bed, fingers lighting up with blue chakra. "Ready, kid? The seal hasn't been on for too long, so hopefully this shouldn't be too painful."

Gaara nodded, body tensing. Jiraiya lowered his hand to the boy's stomach, the Five Elements Unseal eating through the Gogyō Fūin. The redhead's normally bland expression contorted with pain, but only the mildest of grunts slipped through his lips. "How do you feel?" Tsunade asked.

"Fine." He tilted his head, as if listening to something no one else could hear. "I am sorry, it was not intentional, and I… Yes, I have explained our arrangement. It will not happen again. …Agreed." Teal eyes flitted from Jiraiya to Tsunade. "Shukaku is…annoyed, but willing to uphold our previous agreement in light of your…" he looked thoughtful, "interference."

"Wonderful." Sarcasm dripped from Tsunade like the fluids from Gaara's IV. "Since I am apparently running a bed and breakfast, is there any other service I can provide?"

"I would like to speak to Inoichi."

"…I'll get right on that. Jiraiya, they're your headache now. Try not to get maimed too badly." Tsunade left the medical bay, rubbing her temples as she stepped through the doorway and left the group behind. A deep voice uttering her name caused her to stop and turn, one eyebrow arched. "Yes?" she drawled.

Han's armor clinked softly as he pushed off the wall he was reclining against. "You seem to be handing out favors. I have my own."

Honey eyes narrowed. "Exactly how long have you been eavesdropping?"

"You're sympathetic to the plight of the Jinchūriki and seek an alternative path to world peace." The last two words came out as a scoff. "It's a unique, if foolish, endeavor from one in your position. But assuming it's genuine – which your actions with the Suna-nin suggest – then you should be willing to grant my request."

"Taking the hard approach when asking a favor; such a novel attitude for an Iwa-nin," Tsunade noted dryly, ignoring the way Han's brown eyes narrowed with annoyance. "But let's assume that I'm in a gracious mood. What, pray tell, is your request?"

"I need a reprieve from here."

"Ah, yes, you must be stressed living in such squalor."

"Your sarcasm is misdirected, since I've been your most optimal guest to date," Han snarked back, "and I am not asking for anything unreasonable. I do not enjoy having my movements restricted, and this place, as gracious as your hospitality has been to date, is nothing more than an open cage."

Tsunade glanced around, as if searching for the environment Han was describing. "Of course," she deadpanned.

"I don't expect you to understand," the Iwa-nin retorted. "Granddaughter of Konoha's founder, the Shodai Hokage…born in privilege and subservient to no one. I have spent my life imprisoned by your teammate—"

"Former teammate," Tsunade corrected icily.

"—or at the beck and call of the decrepit floating dwarf that calls himself Tsuchikage," Han continued, deep voice rising slightly to drown out the blonde. "Raised by foreigners, only allowed to roam Iwa with guards, trusted to protect the village but not allowed to explore it. And when I was finally allowed to leave, when I had garnered enough trust to follow in Rōshi's esteemed footsteps, I still required accompaniment."

He paused to take a breath, realizing he'd become incensed. Losing his temper at Tsunade, while cathartic in a way, would not help his cause. To her credit, the Hokage remained stone-faced, weathering his tirade with remarkable aplomb. The Iwa-nin picked up his train of thought, voice level once more. "To my point…you seem willing to foster new and unusual connections. Those who would seek to understand rather than abuse the symbiosis of the Bijū and their hosts are beyond rare.

"The Gobi, much like myself, is a creature who enjoys freedom. And while your accommodations are appreciated, I have been remarkably patient with the present situation and this…congenial captivity, especially given how you initially imprisoned me. I wish to run. To escape this open-air prison you call a home, if only for a short while."

"…All of that," Tsunade slowly stated, "just to request a walk? You talk as much as that old windbag, that's for sure."

"To convince you to allow me an excursion," he reiterated, "yes. I would hate to inconvenience you," he added sarcastically. Then, tone neutral again: "I do not believe my request unreasonable."

They stared at each other for a long minute, until finally, Tsunade called out, "Jiraiya."

The white-haired man stepped into sight from the doorway she'd only recently exited, toothy grin in place. "Yes, hime?"

"Take our friend here to Training Area Forty-Four. Let him stretch his legs as reward for his…good behavior," she smirked.

Han's scowl was hidden by his armor, but he inclined his head appreciatively all the same.

Training Area Forty-Four, Han discovered, was a truly enormous forest completely separate from the rest of the Land of Fire's impressive foliage. The trees were equally tall and imposing, but from where he stood beside Jiraiya, the canopy was far denser, offering no clear view of the sky, and the trunks were several times his own impressive height. No noise made its way to his ears.

"Well, here we are," Jiraiya announced, attempting to sound cheery. "Welcome to the Forest of Death."

"Is this not Training Area Forty-Four?"

"One and the same, big guy. It's just a cute nickname this place has been given over the years. Who knows why?" he added lightly, sounding too innocent.

Han spared the white-haired man a skeptical side-eye. "…Indeed."

Jiraiya slapped the larger man on the back, creating a discordant sound of armor clanking against each other. He wore a wide grin that was starting to remind the Iwa-nin of Deidara when he got a little too devil-may-care. "Well, I'll leave you to it then."

"You're not going to stay?"

Jiraiya arched an eyebrow. "I was under the impression you wanted to be left alone."

"Yes, but…I didn't expect I'd get it."

The white-haired man shrugged. "Tsunade's a pretty terrible bluffer, and not given to saying what she doesn't mean. Besides, there's not much damage you can do in there," he added, jerking a thumb at the trees. "Everyone deserves a break once in a while."

With that, Han watched the Sannin's broad back disappear down the path he'd been led, and when it became apparent that he wasn't going to return, the Jinchūriki turned and walked into the so-called Forest of Death.

As the darkness closed in around him and the chirping of insects and skittering of animals started to become apparent, Han felt a rigid tension in his shoulders start to release. He couldn't say that the atmosphere was familiar – the Land of Earth was a notorious wasteland of rock and dirt, where only the hardiest shrubs could (naturally) survive – but it was clear that this place was void of others.

He inhaled deeply, the earthy scent of the woods providing a sense of comfort. Then, with a previously unknown peace, he took off into the forest at a run.

Greens and browns zipped past as his run turned into a sprint, wind whistling through his armor and sending the individual pieces clattering together. It added to the white noise of the native fauna, and Han made an immediate right turn when a tiger jumped out at him from the underbrush, fangs bared. He snorted at the pathetic ambush attempt, grinning with exhilaration.

A deep bark of amusement built into a rolling laugh; in the quiet expanse, the sound reverberated like the clinking of his armor. Glowing eyes peered out from the darkness at him, narrowed and feral, but they passed in a blur. A massive bear, easily twice his size, trundled out of the brush and reared up on its hind legs to roar at him. In response, Han lowered his head and charged the creature, steam spilling from his armor to propel him forward faster.

Claws raked against his armor as he made contact, crashing into the bear's belly with the force of a train and slamming it against a tree trunk. Its roar was cut short, and Han backed away to continue his run unhindered.

Was that necessary?

Han's brows furrowed with annoyance at the voice. Its timbre was almost androgynous, though the nagging subtext of a disappointed parent had always caused the Iwa-nin to infer it as feminine. "It attacked me first," he replied with a defensive bite to his tone. "Can you not just enjoy the moment?"

The atmosphere is tranquil, yes, but the point remains—

"That you're irksome, I'm aware. Your proclivities are nothing new."

Yours neither. And yet you continue to engage in such barbarism.

"Conflict is unavoidable, especially with my goal."

"Oh? And what would that be?"

Han looked up at the new voice, a feminine purr emanating from high above. The woman wore a tan overcoat open over a mesh bodysuit that went to just above her knees, shin guards protecting the rest of her legs; a brown apron-skirt provided a semblance of modesty. It was hard to tell in the dim light of the forest, but she appeared to have dark hair – maybe black, or perhaps a deep blue or purple – and was chewing on a senbon. "Nothing you would be interested in," he called back. "I have permission from your Hokage to be here."

"Heh, nice try. Since when were we friendly with Iwa?"

"That is fair," Han acquiesced, attempting to make his deep voice conciliatory rather than annoyed, "but I assure you, I have no ill intentions."

"You'll forgive me for not trusting your word!" She flipped through seals and spit out a massive gout of flames. "Katon: Ryūka no Jutsu!"

Steam whistled from his armor and formed a barrier between him and the Dragon Fire Technique. Do you see what passivity accomplishes? Nothing.

And so you propose killing this woman? Imagine how well that will play for your diplomatic efforts.

He scowled, unwilling to verbally concede that the Gobi had a point; he couldn't attack this woman and expect that there wouldn't be repercussions.

The woman burst through his steam, a palm strike aimed at his chin, and the Iwa-nin tilted his head to avoid the attack. There was a clang of metal as she jammed a kunai into his stomach, the tip sticking between the gaps in his armor. Tenacious, he mused, gripping her by the arm and throwing her behind him.

Snakes shot out of the sleeve of her overcoat and wrapped around his own limb, creating a flexible fulcrum that allowed her to arc around his back and slam both feet into his head. The force sent the Jinchūriki sprawling to the ground, kasa dislodged and kunoichi straddling his lap. She shoved senbon through the chinks in his armor, piercing muscles and causing the large man to spasm with discomfort. Up close, he could now see her hair was a dusky violet and her eyes were a mirror of his own, pupil-less and brown. Her pink tongue swept along her upper lip in a hungry gesture that tickled a long-buried memory. "Gotcha."

"Hardly," Han retorted, and steam erupted from his body, blasting the woman airborne. He rolled over and rose to his feet while the Leaf kunoichi recovered, observing him from a distance. His kasa was only a few feet away; he spared a glance at it, then returned his gaze to his adversary, brown eyes narrowing with anger.

Do not lose focus.

"Shut up," he growled. He wouldn't kill her, but it would likely be a close thing if he had his way. Water vapor billowed from the furnace on his back, cloaking the area in thick, white smoke.

"Ooo, neat trick." Her voice came from a distance, distorted by the chakra-laden steam, but she wasn't within it or he'd be able to sense her. That she could disguise where she was speaking from was a credit to her skill. He kept his gaze tilted skyward, waiting for an assault from the one place he didn't have covered.

The ground beneath him rumbled, and Han looked down in time to see the jaws of a massive snake open beneath him. His arms snapped out to catch either side of the serpent's mouth, muscles straining. "Fungōkyaku," he grunted, and boiling vapor shot from his boots into the reptile's maw. The creature hissed in pain, and Han used the modified Eruption Kick to propel himself out of harm's way.

It jettisoned him above the white mist, where he used another expulsion of steam to turn in midair and meet the kunai of the purple-haired woman. A venom-green snake that was wrapped around her neck bared its fangs and lunged for his face. He lowered his head and felt the serpent latch onto one of the stubs protruding from his scalp.

Then he slammed his forehead into her face.

She recoiled, blood trailing from her nose. Then her head snapped forwards, face contorted in a leer, tongue swiping the blood from her upper lip. "Well, aren't you tenacious. Sen'ei Jashu!"

Snakes emerged from her sleeves and wrapped around his limbs. Steam erupted from his armor, pushing him into a midair spin. "Funjinshin!"

The angular momentum sent his opponent hurtling into the cloud of steam blanketing the forest floor. Han flexed out of the hold the serpents had on him and then propelled himself after his adversary, diving into the vapor. Shrouded in his element, he could easily sense her presence, and he rushed in the woman's direction. Blind and disoriented, she took his tackle headlong in the back, and the Gobi Jinchūriki's form crushed her against one of the training area's huge trunks, armored arms pinning her effortlessly. "Well…" she muttered into the bark, "this is a predicament." There was a note of resignation in her voice that every experienced shinobi knew.

Death.

Han took a deep breath to calm the adrenaline coursing through his veins. His baritone voice still held a measure of annoyance, but it came out steadier than he expected. "As I said, I'm here with your Hokage's permission. If that were untrue, you would be dead. Unless you think the shinobi of Iwa have lost their edge when it comes to completing missions."

A long pause; she was clearly thinking. "So…you're some sorta liaison of Iwa, eh? And what do you have to offer Konoha?"

"The nature of my business is none of yours."

Now that the altercation was over, the surrounding steam was nearly done dissipating. He was two heads taller than her, and their relative positions gave him easy vantage of her back. The collar of her overcoat was wide and open, allowing the Iwa-nin to spy a tattoo of three tomoe – equidistant from one another – ringed by squiggles inked at the juncture of her nape and shoulder. It was both different and familiar all at the same time, and he found himself growling, "What is this?"

The woman spun in his hold – apparently he'd loosened it in his surprise – a scowl marring her features. Her brown eyes were narrowed with contempt. "As you told me, none of your business."

"It bears striking resemblance to a cursed seal used by Orochimaru."

Her body went rigid at the name, breath coming out in a seething exhale. "And what would you know of that?"

Han was silent for a long moment as the woman's brown eyes bore holes through him, but her patience ran out before he decided on an answer. She scoffed with disgust and poorly disguised disinterest. "Whatever. Like Iwa has any knowledge of Orochimaru."

"You're right," he admitted, and that was enough to stop her, "which is why I would be interested in anything you could impart. You are not the only one to bear his mark."

She let out a bark of laughter. "Prove it."

"You're going to have to take my word for it," he replied, tone brooking no argument. "I don't remove my armor. Besides, do you think it's something to brag about?"

A hand came up to cover the mark on her neck, lips contorting in a grimace. "Fair point." She settled herself into a cross-legged position on the ground, flaring her overcoat in the process. "Anko," she said, and the Rock shinobi took it as an introduction. "So, what's your story? I'll buy you have a seal without seeing it, but you're gonna need to give me something."

Han scrutinized her, but now that they'd apparently found common ground, the kunoichi seemed perfectly at ease. Instead of answering, he walked over and picked up his fallen kasa, his periphery focused on watching her watch him. Settling it upon his head, he rejoined her and sat himself across from her. "There isn't much to tell. I was kept in an underground location as a child and experimented on. I don't even remember receiving the mark anymore.

"By some fluke, I managed to escape. I was found by the shinobi of Iwagakure and…adopted." The venom at his treatment by the higher-ups of the Hidden Rock leaked into his baritone. This woman – Anko – didn't need to know exactly why he'd been brought into Iwa's folds. "Iwa sealed the mark, but no further investigation was done. As a condition of my visitation here, your Hokage subjected me to a medical exam, where I learned that Orochimaru is the progenitor of this mark. I have been seeking additional information ever since."

"For what?"

"To kill him," Han said, voice cold and sure. "My life was completely uprooted, and until proven otherwise, it all leads back to him. I'll have his head."

"Join the club." Anko's brown eyes seemed to glisten hungrily. "What makes you think you can?"

"I am highly motivated."

They stared at each other for a time; it felt like she was appraising him, which was amusing in a backwards sort of way, considering their comparative sizes and skills. Finally, she snorted, running a hand through her purple fringe. "Alright…eye for an eye, right?

"Orochimaru was my sensei as a Genin. He took particular interest in me because I was…special." She practically hissed the word. "That was Orochimaru…interested in mysteries and the unique. I got too close; I'll admit, I was enamored with him. Orochimaru has this…presence that's hard to ignore, even now."

"What do you mean, 'even now'?" Han interjected. "That makes it sound like you've had recent contact with him."

"He interposed himself into Konoha's recent Chūnin Exams under multiple disguises, including the Kazekage. We had a run-in." She grimaced. "It…didn't go well."

Han's fists clenched. He was here, he thought, and I missed him.

Not that he'd even known about their connection at the time, but somehow, in hindsight, it still grated.

"Eventually he gathered a bunch of kids together and gave them this." She yanked at the collar of her overcoat, briefly revealing the curse mark and then covering it up again. "The Ten no Juin, a gift he called it, for a special few. I was the only survivor, but after that, I wanted nothing to do with him. He did something to my mind – even the Yamanaka weren't able to figure out what – and left me for dead. And like you, I swore I'd kill him.

"But here's the rub – Orochimaru is always two steps ahead. He's a bastard, no arguing, but he's studied every special technique native to Konoha, and I'm sure he's had his fingers crawling around every other major village, too. Orochimaru's loyalty to the village always felt…tenuous. I suspect that if he was willing to put me through that hell 13 years ago, then he's been doing it a lot longer than that."

"Most assuredly," Han replied darkly.

Anko stared at him, and for an instant, the Iwa-nin felt like he was back under the watchful, hungry eyes of the madman who'd experimented on him as a child – a predator waiting for him to move. "You're an interesting guy." Han didn't respond to that, unsure of how to take her words, and the kunoichi continued, "I've spent all this time trying to get back at him, and the one opportunity I finally got, even when I put my life on the line, he was just playing with me the whole time. He knows everything about me, and I know next to nothing about him."

"But you know more than most, as little as that may mean. I would take any insight you'll impart."

Anko smirked at him, tongue dancing hungrily across her lips. "Well, if you put it that way, how can I refuse?"

Han could feel the eyes of the ANBU on him as he made his way back to the Senju compound. At another time, the scrutiny would have irritated him, but after a day spent in Training Area Forty-Four, trading information and blows with Anko, he felt more at ease. He still would've preferred to be left alone, but considering the circumstances – allowing a foreign Jinchūriki unsupervised access to even one part of the village – he understood. At least the Leaf shinobi were trying to be subtle; it was more than he could say for his handlers in the Hidden Rock.

November's setting sun painted his armor with splashes of gold, the nearby streetlights flickering to life as he strode the path Jiraiya had taken him along that morning. Not for the first time, he mused at the serenity the Hidden Leaf and Land of Fire emanated. The Land of Earth was quiet, especially in isolation, but his rage and hatred – and the constant oversight – had never made it a peaceful place. Here…

He wasn't sure he could ever consider it home, but it worked well as a refuge.

The courtyard was empty by the time he returned, which was normal. An absent part of his brain mused that it would behoove them to begin training in the evenings; not all combat took place in the daytime, and a good shinobi would take advantage of the darkness.

He frowned. It wasn't his responsibility to prepare the younger demon containers for the outside world, so where had that thought come from?

The foyer was bright but as empty as the courtyard. Muffled voices drew his attention to the closed door where Tsunade performed medical examinations. As he moved past it, the gravelly voice of the redheaded Suna-nin gave him pause; the boy was a devoted pupil, but not a talkative one. Even his conversations with the blond boy he was close to were fairly one-sided. They'd been training together for over two months and really only spoken of things pertaining to that.

He was, in short, an enigma.

They all were, really; the Iwa-nin hadn't bothered spending his time getting to know any of the younger Jinchūriki.

So he leaned against the wall – practiced movements forestalling the clinking of his armor – cast a wary glance for any interlopers, and listened.

"—told me that he resented me…that my…mother…named me so that her grudge against Sunagakure would be known. I was…unlovable." The boy's voice was halting, but Han couldn't discern any other change in timbre that suggested the topic meant any more than a discussion about the weather. He wondered if the sand-user was simply that unaffected or that psychologically damaged. "Then he asked me to die and blew himself up. I remember…giving myself this scar, and then…"

He trailed off. Han assumed he was making some sort of gesture.

The silence trailed for a moment, and then a second voice said, "Well, that is quite the story." Han didn't recognize the voice, but it sounded soothing and conciliatory in a way that reminded him of how the blue-clad Kiri-nin spoke; he almost felt annoyed on principle. "I'm glad you were finally able to share. It's not uncommon to experience some measure of post-traumatic stress after that kind of situation, which, given your reactions to certain words and situations, you likely have."

"I see."

"How do you feel, knowing that?"

"…Broken."

"Gaara, you should know there's nothing to be ashamed of, and there's nothing inherently wrong with you. Many shinobi – and even regular civilians – experience traumatic events and process them in different ways. You're not the first person to have PTSD and you certainly won't be the last. With the right therapy and medication, it's a manageable illness. I'm still willing to help you if you'd like."

Silence. Han was used to the redhead's methodical way of digesting and then responding to information, so the lull seemed normal. Finally, the redhead's dry monotone uttered, "I would be…grateful."

"It's no problem." If this unknown man was anything like the Kiri-nin, the Rock shinobi could almost picture the gentle smile on his face. "This subject will likely be a topic of discussion in future sessions, and I'd like to come back to it later if you're comfortable, but if I may ask, did something happen recently? We've been doing these sessions for some time now, and this is the first time we've been able to discuss anything related to your family."

"…I had a conversation with…Shukaku—"

"The Ichibi."

A moment of quiet; Han imagined the younger boy nodding. "We spoke of how we have each been wronged, and each other's part in that. And then we came to an agreement."

"When we started, the way you described your relationship before sounded symbiotic, or perhaps codependent, albeit toxic, so it sounds like you've made progress in establishing something healthier. I'm afraid to say that I'm only familiar with…Shukaku…by reputation, so you'll have to excuse any, ah, potential faux pauxs on my end as we discuss this. In general, though, I'd say that's a good thing. What kind of agreement did you come to?"

"We would start over. Shukaku would allow me access to his abilities and stop trying to exert influence over my mind, and I would not have the Gogyō Fūin reapplied. In the course of our conversation, we spoke of the other Bijū – Shukaku's siblings. There are those he is cordial with – Saiken and…ah, Kokuō – and those he…resents. His perspective is…not dissimilar to my own, but aged. I wish to learn, and with knowledge and experience, there is room for growth.

"I believe…opportunity should be afforded for amends. If others are willing to forgive my transgressions, it would be hypocritical of me to not do the same."

"That is…a level of generosity you would not have afforded anyone when I did my original assessment of you. You should be proud of your growth thus far, Gaara. It's proof this is working. Do you feel any different?"

"I have noticed…changes."

"Good. You should recognize the work you've put in. Now, let's go back to what your uncle said—"

The second man's voice was drowned out by the sound of rattling from the Iwa-nin's armor. Han stepped away from the wall and reached into his gi, pulling out the river rock inscribed with the Gobi's number of tails. The single symbol was awash with color and heat, a violent call to arms. He scowled at the recurring reminder that he was basically the Tsuchikage's property.

"Yer gittin' th' call, too, eh?"

Rōshi was walking toward him, his own shaking stone loosely grasped in his hand. Han snorted, fingers clenching a little tighter. "It's not the first time."

"Aye, an' it won't be th' last."

Another scowl. "Maybe it should be," he muttered.

"Hm?"

"Maybe it should be," he repeated, louder and intentional. It had first slipped out of his mouth without thought, a product of too many years of frustrated obedience, but now, with several months of stark contrast to his life in the Land of Earth, it was readily apparent that things could be different. His only ties to Iwa were the Tsuchikage's stubbornness and the damn river rock.

He turned on the spot and stalked towards the compound entrance. "Oi," Rōshi called, "what d'yeh think yer doin'?"

"I'm going to give that senile windbag his calling card back."

The redhead's hurried footsteps echoed on the tiles behind him. "An' yeh think that'll go well, d'yeh?"

Han whirled around to glare at the shorter man, rage towering like his height. "I don't give a damn. That bastard may be the Tsuchikage, but he's long past his prime, and I'm a Jinchūriki. I've given Ōnoki twenty years of service and received nothing in return. I have my own life and my own goal, and I will not be subject to the whimsy of a demented old fool any longer!"

Rōshi stared at him as he breathed heavily through his anger. The redhead was silent for a long time, waiting until the armor-clad shinobi was calm enough to hear what he would say. "Yer gonna git yerself killed underestimatin' Ōnoki an' th' power o' Jinton. C'mon." He walked past Han, making for the exit. "Us two got a better chance t'gether."

"You're…going to accompany me? Stand up to him?"

"Yeh sound so surprised." Rōshi's voice was wry. "Yeh don' think I'd support yeh after yeh've trusted me through all this"—he gestured around them—"insanity?"

"I have never considered your motives pure."

Rōshi flashed his own river rock, hot and vibrating. "Aye, it helps me, too. But yeh ain't wrong. Ignorin' it don' make it go 'way."

"Ain't that the truth." Jiraiya melded out of the shadows, arms crossed over his broad chest and a smirk quirking the corner of his mouth. "It's so nice to see you two getting along. And to think there was such hostility during our first meeting." He glanced at Han, smile growing broader with his amusement. "Look at how far you've come!"

"Yeh've got nothin' better ter do than stalk th' hallways, Jiraiya?"

"The reward for patience is sometimes getting to see Tsunade walk around in something a little more revealing, so yeah, a worthwhile venture," he said with a wink. Soberly, he continued, "I heard your little conversation. Good for you, standing up for yourselves. And while I approve of your spirit, it would be beyond even my level of irresponsibility to let you leave here unencumbered."

"Is it your intention to stop us?" Han's voice teetered on hostility, carrying the edge of a threat. It wouldn't be an easy fight, but he was prepared to go toe-to-toe with the Tsuchikage; one of the Sannin wasn't so dissimilar, even in the midst of other Leaf shinobi.

Jiraiya's booming laugh slackened the tension in the armored ninja's shoulders. "Hardly! And before you ask, no, I'm not interested in accompanying you. I don't think I'd be overly welcome trotting into Iwa, with or without your escort. No, I'm just here to provide a little insurance.

"See, I like you guys. Really. And I appreciate what you've done for Naruto, and even the other kids. But Tsunade…" he shrugged. "Well, it's kinda her job to be cautious, especially with foreign shinobi. She's afforded you guys a lot of latitude, and in fairness, you've done a good job of playing by the rules, but going back to your village with any inside knowledge of Konoha is just a step too far, especially considering our history. So, as a precautionary measure, I'm going to have to insist on placing a seal on you."

"What kind of seal?" Han growled.

"Basically, if you try to recall and disseminate any sort of information about Konoha – infrastructure, shinobi, etc. – you'll find yourself frozen. No movement, no speech, nothing until the thought goes away."

"You're talking about a seal that can predict intentions and thoughts."

"I'll take your incredulity as a measure of how impressed you are by me." Jiraiya grinned, basking in his work. "It took a lot of time and coordination with the Yamanaka clan and…some less reputable folks, but for the sake of Konoha's defense and maintaining my spy network, sometimes you have to bend the rules a little. And yeah, I know, you're not big on seals, but when you decide to come back, I'll be happy to remove it."

"You're anticipating our return? Accept it?"

Jiraiya shrugged. "Like I said, you've been pretty good about playing by the rules, which is more than anyone expected, and you haven't really given us any heartache, so yeah, why not? Akatsuki's still out there, and the kids have plenty more to learn." He cocked his head to the side. "Maybe you could pick up something, too, if you're open to it."

Han shot a glance at Rōshi, curious to see if the redhead had any opposition to the Sannin's proposal. The older Jinchūriki simply arched an eyebrow, as if to ask 'do you think there's a better offer?'

I suppose not. Tone gruff, he conceded, "Very well. What do you need of us?"

"Access to your forehead."

The giant shinobi untied his hitae-ate, stepping forward so Jiraiya could sweep the wet thistles of a brush across his brow. There were a few quick swishes, and then the Sannin stepped back and said, "Fūin," the ink seeping through his skin and seeming to tattoo itself on his brain.

As Jiraiya stepped towards Rōshi to apply the same seal, Han flexed his fingers and raised a leg as if to confirm that the older man's fūinjutsu hadn't impacted any of his normal functions. By the time he'd performed a few more simple movements and satisfied his skepticism, Jiraiya had finished with Rōshi and taken a step away from them. "Well, I wish you luck on your journey," offered the white-haired man. "You're gonna need it."

The one good thing about Rōshi as a traveling companion was that he didn't feel the need to fill the quiet between them with conversation. Likely that was a result of the decades he'd spent in isolation – for which Han still harbored a (dwindling) grudge – but at least the weeklong journey was going to be made in silence, and not an uncomfortable one.

Unfortunately, that also left him with a lot of time to think.

Two decades of growing up in and around the Hidden Rock, and the armored shinobi had never found himself introspective. He'd been given a home only to be raised as a weapon, pointed in the direction of the enemy, and then unleashed upon them. And even when he'd been given a sliver of free reign, the solitude – or facsimile of it – had never inclined him to ruminate on his life. He'd always just wanted to punch something, lash out at anyone interfering with his bid for vengeance or freedom (or both).

And now he had a target for his rage – Orochimaru – as well as a burgeoning, accidental mentorship to multiple younger Jinchūriki, which he was…surprisingly okay with?

They were…fascinating, clinically speaking. Personal experience had taught him that the Jinchūriki were all weird – broken, really – in their own way, and he was no exception, which made it all the stranger that they seemed to be…improving. Trying, really, to better themselves in a world that didn't give two shits about them.

"The boy…"

"Hm?" Rōshi looked up from poking at the fire with a stick, hunched over the flames from his seated position on a rock. It was their third night on the road, and their communications until now had mostly been perfunctory. "Yeh've gotta be more specific."

Han watched the firelight dance within his companion's coal-colored eyes. He silently conceded that the older man had a point; they knew multiple 'boys', and he hadn't provided any context to his utterance. In fact, he hadn't even registered saying anything until Rōshi's response. "The Suna-nin."

"Aye, an'?"

"…What is his intention?"

Rōshi raised an eyebrow. "Who knows? Yeh don' ask how th' crazy think."

"Don't pretend you don't have some inkling as to his thoughts. You've got all the subtlety of your father."

"Learn from th' best, they say," came the sarcastic response. "But aye, I've talked with 'im. Jus' a bit. He's lost an' lookin' fer purpose."

"You say that like that doesn't describe a large swath of the population."

"Yeh want somethin' more specific?"

"He was embroiled in conversation with another, speaking on a seemingly personal subject matter. I suspect it's been going on for some time, and I'm curious what his goal is."

The eyebrow rose again, this time accompanied by a scoff. "What, yeh think he's engaged in a…a su'terfuge? He ain't got that kinda foresight."

"Agreed. No, I'm just interested. These children have shown themselves…naïve. They fight for concepts that are incomprehensible." Rōshi was nodding to his words, lips drawn in a smirk. "I would like to know what they are angling towards."

"They ain't seen war," the redhead answered with solemn assuredness. "Sure, some o' 'em been raised same as us, but none served. That changes yeh."

The armored shinobi grunted. "Fair enough."

"'Sides," Rōshi added, gruff voice full of its usual swagger, "ain't like yeh've got goals, so what's his matter?" Another grunt, and the lava-user leaned towards the flames, interest piqued. "Or yeh do, eh?" He gave a rustic laugh, sounding – for the first time the giant had ever heard – genuinely amused. "Well, let's hear it."

"It's no business of yours."

Rōshi straightened his back, eyeing the armored giant speculatively. "Han, yeh know I ain't yer enemy, aye? I ain't one fer Utakata's soft approach ter…life"—he gestured broadly with his arms, apparently unable to find the appropriate words to describe the Kiri-nin—"but I tol' yeh, I'm tryin' ter do right by yeh. I'm goin' with yeh ter give th' ol' man what fer, ain't I?"

"Trust is immaterial," Han replied, deep voice stiff but without the hostility that would have tainted it historically. "I do not need or want your involvement."

"Yet yeh wanna know what drives Gaara."

"Hmph." Han crossed his arms over his chest. "Fair point."

Silence followed his concession, only the crackling flames offering the pair a sense of camaraderie. It was weird that even Rōshi – old, stubborn, unyielding – seemed to be able to learn and grow, a feat Han never would have thought possible. He wasn't kinder or gentler, necessarily, but he was more willing to listen, to work with others after decades of being his own man. It flew in the face of everything the Five-Tails' Jinchūriki had ever known or assumed about the Tsuchikage's son.

Konoha, and the younger Jinchūriki, had a presence that inspired something Iwa clearly didn't. Han wondered if he was undergoing his own metamorphosis, subtle and unseen, resulting from their daily interactions.

The thought was…unsettling.

"If yer curious, yeh can jus' ask 'im," Rōshi suggested. "Th' kids're all open books. Naïve, aye?"

Han only gave a hum in response, and the two Iwa-nin allowed the night to swallow their conversation.

They reached the Land of Earth after another day and a half of travel, the thick forests having gradually thinned to tall savannahs as they entered the Land of Grass and then emptying to sparse, hardy vegetation that dappled a landscape of rugged brown. Han scowled beneath his mask as they crossed the border, and Rōshi – perhaps sensing his companion's sudden irritation – commented, "Yeh ferget how depressin' this place is."

"They really did find the worst place to settle."

"Better than Suna."

Han paused at that, gave it a moment's thought, and then shrugged. "I suppose so."

With that agreement, the two continued northwest toward the Hidden Rock Village, their usual quiet their only companion. Han found himself a little surprised that Rōshi wasn't trying to pry further into his business. Suspicious by nature, the older man tended to fixate on things like a dog worrying a bone. That he was willing to let the armored shinobi keep his secret and not pick at it was just further evidence of his previous observation that Rōshi was different…that he was capable of change.

He let out an amused huff that was lost amidst the shifting pieces of his armor. After the life he'd lived, it was novel to find he could still be surprised.

Han rolled his neck on his shoulders to ease a pulse of discomfort. Rōshi noticed the gesture and grunted, sounding bemused in his wry manner: "Gettin' ol'?"

"Like you're one to talk," retorted the giant. "I don't see you traversing several hundred kilometers in armor."

"Some o' us don' need a crutch."

The hand not tucked into his gi came up to rub at his shoulder blades, trying to ease the muscles through his armor. "Or aren't so rockheaded as to not accept augmentation."

"Eh? If that's yer way o' sayin' yeh need help, then jus' say that. No need ter sound fancy. 'Sides, yeh think yeh'd be used ter th' weight after all this time."

"I am," Han groused, irritated at the throbbing at his neck. It was now a pulsing ache that slowed their casual run to a halt, Rōshi shooting him an expression that the Gobi Jinchūriki might have interpreted as concern coming from someone else. The throb built to a shooting pain, and Han sank to his knees, growling through gritted teeth, "What…is…happening?"

"Ku ku ku…what an interesting development."

The giant shinobi felt a shudder run down his spine. "That…laugh…" He tilted his head up, just enough to glare across the expanse at the source of the voice.

From the ground ahead emerged a pale-skinned, androgynous figure with shoulder-length black hair and aristocratic features. The figure was of average height – shorter than Jiraiya, by the Iwa-nin's guess – though the lanky frame and form-fitting clothes gave the other shinobi the illusion of height. Dressed in a cream-colored cheongsam-looking garb over a long-sleeved olive shirt and loose, gray pants – accented by a garish purple rope serving as a belt – the interloper had the appearance of a woman, but the continuous amused chuckling had a raspy, masculine timbre.

Behind him, Rōshi made a noise of surprise. "Yer…Orochimaru. Yeh haven't aged a day."

"Yōton no Rōshi, we meet again," sibilated the Sannin, sounding bemused. "The same could be said of you."

"You…" Han snarled, and the venom in his voice was nearly tangible. Setting his fists on the ground and using them to prop himself up, the Iwa-nin glared at the renegade Leaf shinobi with brown eyes narrowed to slits. "I will kill you."

"Hm hm hm." Orochimaru's laughter was quiet, but for all the space between him and the two Rock shinobi, it echoed like a shot, persistently mocking. "You're not the first to threaten that…isn't that right, Rōshi? And yet, here I stand."

His voice was a whisper, each word a gentle caress, but framed with a sort of mocking contempt. It contrasted the clinical detachment and scientific intrigue that haunted the few broken memories of his captivity, but that laugh…

Orochimaru's laugh was unforgettable.

"I know of your renown, Jōki no Jinchūriki," the Sannin continued casually, "and would have considered it fortuitous to never make formal introductions, but judging by my mark, we've had the pleasure. Isn't it amusing how circumstance makes fools of us all? And here I'd thought all my experiments were dead or accounted for."

"Th' hell're yeh talkin' 'bout?"

"Ah, you've not told him?" Orochimaru laughed again. "But then, what would a country bumpkin, even one as strong as Yōton no Rōshi, understand, hm?"

From his periphery, Han caught the older Jinchūriki take a step forward, hands clenched into fists. "Rōshi," he growled, and the man's movement halted. "Leave it. He's mine."

"Oh? That would be interesting to see."

"Release me from your…thrall, and I'd be happy to show you."

"Cursed seals are such intriguing creations," Orochimaru mused, seeming to ignore Han's guttural request. "Even counter-seals can be imperfect when the initial seal is not fully understood. They may succeed at repressing the chakra-sensitive portions, but when there's a biological component…well, that would require dissecting the invasive DNA with a skill only a few iryo-nin possess. An arduous process to be sure, but well worth the hundreds of lives to create and perfect." He spread his arms out to his side, palms open as if revealing a particularly impressive sleight of hand. "And even then, to introduce and utilize a biological component requires some measure of compatibility between host and donor. In some ways, it's not dissimilar to the pets you both keep inside. To think one of my creations would ascend to one of Iwa's prized Jinchūriki…" he laughed again.

The Gobi's chakra was surging through his body, and Han allowed it to suffuse his limbs with strength, the irukauma's shroud coating his form in a bubbling orange miasma. The radiating pain – and control – from the Sannin's seal ebbed, and he thundered forward in a Body Flicker that left only a wisp of steam behind.

Vapor billowed out of the armor covering his right arm as his fist slammed into Orochimaru's cackling maw with enough force to snap his neck backwards and send the pale man soaring several hundred feet away.

That felt good.

For a long moment, the Gobi Jinchūriki stood still and stared into the distance, relishing in his victory. Quick as it had been, he was almost disappointed his decades of hatred had only boiled out to this.

Then, from afar, he could see something clamber to its feet, neck long and floppy like a worm before retracting to a normal human form. "What the hell?" he muttered, brown eyes narrowed as the other man approached at a steady pace. His Eruption Fist – especially charged with the Gobi's chakra – had literally knocked heads from shoulders, yet Orochimaru seemed virtually unharmed.

"He's a Sannin, yeh daft moron!" Rōshi yelled. "Yeh think he jus' got that title willy-nilly?"

Han turned his scowl upon his fellow Rock shinobi and again warned him, "Don't interfere, Rōshi. This is my business." He received a grumble and a careless toss of the hand in return, and when he turned back to the rogue Konoha-nin, Orochimaru once more stood only 30 feet from him; his jaw appeared displaced, awkwardly open and angled in a way that Han would have definitively identified as broken until, with a sharp crack, the Sannin pushed it back into place. "You're a confident man to return for more."

"Ku ku ku, I admit, I underestimated the power of a Jinchūriki. It's been so long since I fought one, you see, and I've had decades to evolve. Still…in the interest of a proper test, I propose an accord. Keep your beast under control, and I'll refrain from further manipulation of the seal."

"Deal," Han growled, charging toward the pale man in a burst of speed. He threw another fist at his adversary's face, but the Sannin's neck stretched impossibly long, and his punch transited through empty space. His momentum carried him into the Sannin's noodle-like form, lanky body wrapping around the Jinchūriki's giant frame and constricting like an anaconda. Steam whistled from his armor, and Orochimaru recoiled with a loud hiss, skin cherry-red.

Han spun like a dervish, steam-enhanced foot slamming into the Sannin's left arm and sending the nukenin bouncing across the Land of Earth. He charged after his quarry, taking a vapor-propelled leap into the air and crushing an armored foot into the man's sternum. Orochimaru coughed blood, left arm bent at an awkward angle, and stared with golden, reptilian eyes at the giant hovering over him. "You…" he rasped, seemingly unable to come up with anything further. His mouth remained open in a gape.

Then a set of long, pale fingers emerged, stretching the jaw so wide it no longer bore any human resemblance, and Han was surprised enough that he barely got his arm up in time to deflect the blade stabbing at his face. He jumped back as the snake holding the sword's pommel retracted back to the fallen Orochimaru's mouth, where a new version of the Sannin was emerging, saliva dripping off his body in rivers. The Leaf nukenin appeared whole and unmarred from their altercation, and he chuckled, shrugging carelessly. "It was a good effort."

Every syllable dripped with bemusement and mockery. Fueled by growing rage, steam billowed from Han's armor, and the giant once more closed the distance between himself and the Snake Sannin, but the brandished sword forced him on a divergent path, deeper into his smokescreen.

Wind blustered past him, dispersing the billowing vapors and nearly knocking him off-balance with its force. Suddenly exposed, he found Orochimaru's weapon shooting towards him – literally elongating in a way that seemed to defy reality, even in their world – to pierce his chest. He bellowed when it slid through his armor as if it wasn't even there, brown eyes narrowing with rage and determination. Gloved hands rose to hold the blade between his palms; he rapidly heated the metal with fire chakra, cooled it with water chakra, and then snapped it with minimal effort in a shower of metal fragments. What remained of the sword returned to the Sannin, who chuckled. "So, the lost Terumī child is full of surprises."

"The lost…" Han repeated, brow furrowed. "You know who I am?" he demanded.

Orochimaru's laugh was as disturbing as ever, but it seemed even more sinister this time. "You are the Jinchūriki of the Gobi, the unofficial child of the most senile Kage the world has known – my old sensei included – and one of the most powerful tools at Iwagakure's disposal. What more is there to know?"

"How about who I was before all that?" the giant snarled.

The Snake Sannin's shrug was careless. "It matters not."

"It does to me."

"Ku ku ku…poor child with no past and no memory. You were my ideal target, the errant and dispossessed. The weak," he mocked, "of the strong. Kirigakure was always rife with potential: the Yuki, the Hōzuki, the Ganryū, the Terumī"—he licked his lips, almost salivating—"the Kaguya. At its height, Kirigakure's diversity rivaled that of Konohagakure.

"And when a starving man is presented with a buffet, do you expect him to ignore it?" He chortled as Han continued to clench and unclench his fists; the temperature around them seemed like it was increasing steadily. "The opportunity to study how these clans' kekkei genkai functioned – to learn about Yōton, Futton, Hyōton, Suika no Jutsu, Shikotsumyaku – no one would crucify me for my endeavors."

"Just your methods," Han retorted, seething.

"There was no one to miss those I took for my research." Golden eyes glinted with implication. "And you're the first with the opportunity to settle the score. I'd say my methods are…unquestionable."

"You're grotesque," Han spat. "To call you human would be an indictment on mankind, and I'm barely human myself."

"Your words carry more heat than your jutsu," Orochimaru smirked, bemused. "But come, lost child of the Terumī…show me if you can avenge yourself, if not mankind."

"Gladly," he growled, fist lighting with flames. With a casual gesture, he pointed the limb at the Sannin and muttered, "Katon: Hiken." Fire shot out towards the nukenin, who easily dodged and then proceeded to slither – serpentine – through the bombardment that continued in his direction.

Orochimaru closed the distance between them with impressive speed, rising off his trunk and rasping, "Sen'ei Tajashu!" Snakes burst from his sleeves, a writhing nest of brown scales and slit eyes that wound around the Iwa-nin and began constricting.

"This jutsu is a nuisance," Han snarled, superheated steam whistling from his armor and broiling the serpents to a crisp.

Orochimaru retreated far enough to evade the wash of hot vapor, dipping close to the ground and whispering, "Mandara no Jin." Hundreds of snakes slithered from his open maw and surged towards the Five-Tails' Jinchūriki; dozens rose up and brandished swords at him from their mouths. The Sannin flipped through hand seals, bit his thumb, and slapped his palms to the ground with a hoarse, "Kuchiyose no Jutsu."

There was a puff of smoke behind the giant shinobi that announced the arrival of a snake hundreds of feet long, jet black and sitting on its coils. It bared fangs a couple dozen feet long, forked tongue tasting the air, and snapped forward to swallow the Iwa-nin. Steam shot from the furnace on his back and propelled him towards the massive serpent. "Fungōkyaku!"

His armored foot slammed into the reptile's belly as the creature's head impacted the earth where he'd been standing, and its lengthy body nearly folded in half from the blow. Han landed and grabbed the snake's tail, muscles bulging as vapor blasted from his armor in streams of white smoke. With his Unrivaled Strength and a mighty grunt, he heaved the creature off the ground, spun in a half-circle, and launched it at its summoner.

Orochimaru held up two fingers and dismissed the serpent mid-flight, lips twisted in a contemptuous smirk. Han flipped through seals and barked, "Suiton: Kanketsusen no Jutsu!"

Boiling water burst from the ground, creating a flood that washed away the Leaf nukenin's Formation of Ten Thousand Snakes technique and forcing him to create a divide in the earth that swallowed the deluge. The ground at Han's feet turned into spikes that rose to skewer him; Han laced his fingers together and swung his clasped fists in a hammerblow that shattered the approaching rock. The ground beneath him opened to a 20-foot-diameter pit, and the Iwa-nin plummeted into a hole filled with hissing snakes. Several were crushed underfoot, but the rest swarmed him, uselessly sinking fangs into his armor; another burst of steam, and they were fricasseed. Han leaped from the pit and scowled at where the Sannin was standing, only to find the pale man nowhere around.

A quick glance at his surroundings revealed nothing, but then Orochimaru burst from his hiding place in the earth with the remains of his sword aimed at the giant's throat. The Jinchūriki blocked with his left arm, the jagged blade sliding through his armor and drawing blood. Orochimaru leered at him, open-mouthed with the blade's pommel in his tongue, and Han used his right hand to grab the nukenin's extended tongue and rip it from his throat.

Orochimaru recoiled, blood spewing from his mouth and golden eyes wide with shock, gurgling on the red fluid. The Iwa-nin gave chase, reaching for the man's head and missing when the Sannin dodged. His steam propelled him into a roundhouse kick that connected with the snake-user's flexible torso and sent him skidding over the ground. A labored breath rattled through his mask, turning seething as the pale man stood from where he landed, whole and unharmed once more. "Ku ku ku, we appear to be at an impasse," Orochimaru called across the expanse.

Han charged with a roar, but the Sannin slapped his hands to the ground and summoned an enormous metal gate with a demonic visage that the Jinchūriki's fist slammed into. It deformed under the blow, and Han tilted his gaze up, where his enemy stood over 100 feet above him. Hate burned in his pupil-less brown eyes. "Come down and fight me!"

"Hm hm, I think not. You're nearly impervious to what I've thrown at you, and your attempts to brutalize me have proven…ineffective in the long-term. And while I am intrigued at the possibility of continuing to test your growth, now is not the time or place."

"You're not dead," Han snarled. "This fight is not done."

"An interesting hypothesis, but no. My business here has finished, and so this…intermission, shall we say…is complete. However, I have enjoyed our little…contest, so allow me to impart some wisdom to you."

"Not interested!"

"Ah, I assure you, you will be." Orochimaru's voice was a silky hiss, bemused and arrogant in equal measure. "For you see, the predator never expects to become the prey. And that is what you are: Jōki no Jinchūriki, top of the food chain, an apex shinobi, virtually peerless. But there are those that can challenge you"—he gestured to himself—"and a number of them have banded together to hunt you down. Perhaps you've even heard of them, if the old Fence-Sitter ever deigned to share. Akatsuki." The name was a whispered caress, Orochimaru's tongue flicking out to lick his lips. "And their leader is a man calling himself Pein, who has made his base of operations Amegakure."

"How d'yeh know that?"

Han flinched at Rōshi's sudden question, having forgotten his companion's presence. Orochimaru's watchful eyes turned in the Yonbi Jinchūriki's direction. "Because…knowledge is power. Until we meet again." Then he vanished, disappearing into thin air like a mirage.

The steam-user bellowed, slamming his fists repeatedly into the demonic-looking gate to vent his fury. Each punch dented the metal, the barrier sagging under its own weight with an audible screech. With one last roar, he smashed a hole through the gate's open-mouthed grin, spreading fractures throughout the rest of the structure, which collapsed around him.

When the rubble finished falling, Rōshi plodded up to him through the smoke, hands tucked into his purple clothes and red eyebrow arched with aristocratic skepticism. "Are yeh done?"

Through his panting, Han shot the redhead a scathing look with no actual heat. "There's nothing left."

"Aye, yeh can say that again. He cleared ev'rythin' out."

"…What are you talking about?"

"There's a hideout"—he stomped his foot on the ground twice—"all over th' place. Th' tunnels go ev'rywhere. Shinobi scurryin' 'round like ants while yeh fought." Rōshi shot him a scrutinizing look. "So…d'yeh wanna talk 'bout it?" When silence was his only response, the lava-user threw his hands in the air and rolled his eyes. "Yeh picked a fight with one o' th' strongest nukenin still alive, yeh don' think I've got questions?"

"Rōshi!" Han snapped, worked up and with only a single source to vent his frustration. He breathed deeply when his ire didn't have the desired effect, the older male's impassive stare seeming to bore holes through him. "I…appreciate your concern," he finally allowed when he'd calmed enough, each word uttered with calculated rigidity, "and willingness to accede to staying out of it, so if you could continue to do so…" He allowed the sentence to trail off, either too annoyed to continue or unwilling to admit further gratitude for the older man's compliance.

Rōshi considered his junior for a moment before deciding the giant shinobi had been pushed far enough for one day. "…Fine," he acquiesced. "Are yeh good ter continue?"

"Cauterized the wounds," Han grunted. "It'll hold up until we get back to—" and then he froze. After several seconds, he regained movement, muttering, "Stupid seal," under his breath.

And then he started walking south.

"Wait, where're yeh goin'? How 'bout tellin' off th' ol' man?"

"Less important than the information we got from this bastard. We got the base of operations of the enemy threatening our lives from an unreliable source. We need to tell"—another bout of momentary quiet, followed by a frustrated growl—"we need to return."

Rōshi watched the taller shinobi's back for a long moment. Then he smirked to himself and jogged to catch up, falling in step beside the giant to return to the Land of Fire in a companionable silence.

Chapter Text

"Hey, Sakura-chan! Wanna go out with me?"

"Not on your life, Naruto!" The pink-haired girl returned her attention to the classroom entrance, where a dark-haired boy was just coming through the doorway. "Ah, Sasuke-kun! Let's go on a date!"

The new arrival ignored her, sliding into a seat at the back of the classroom where the female occupants ogled him unabashedly. Naruto glared daggers at the other boy and was pointedly ignored. He turned his attention to the gaggle of girls swooning over his stoic classmate and offered them a scowl that was more thoughtful than angry.

He didn't understand what Uchiha Sasuke had that he didn't, or more precisely, what everyone saw in the stuck-up bastard that they didn't see in him, but he didn't like it.

"Alright kids, who wants to show me what you've been working on this week?"

Fū glanced first to Utakata on her right and then Gaara on her left; the former almost looked exasperated, but masked beneath his normal veneer of politeness, and the latter's expression was as stoic as ever. She returned her gaze forward to where Jiraiya stood before them, one white eyebrow cocked expectantly, careless grin painting his mouth. With Naruto out on a mission and Rōshi and Han on some unknown adventure, it was just the three of them left in Konoha, and she wasn't sure how to respond. Thankfully, Utakata took the initiative. "You're, uh…interested in our training?"

"I'm interested in a great many things!" the Sannin boasted. "Especially if those things involve the size of a woman's—" he stopped suddenly, eyeing first Fū and then Gaara, whose expression remained unchanged. He coughed into his fist, then continued, "Anyway, a shinobi doesn't grow without picking up new tricks, so color me curious to see what you're working on."

"…If you wanted to know how we fight so you can disable us if things go…poorly, you could just say that."

"Ah, to be young and naïve. Trust me, between studying your seals, watching you train, training you myself"—he eyed Gaara again, who remained silent and still despite the attention—"I already have contingencies for if anything was to go awry, especially after our little training session with trying to control the fox. If you'd like a demonstration, I recommend telling your friends this may be momentarily unsettling."

Utakata barely had a second to question what the older man meant when Jiraiya's fingers lit up with chakra. He slammed his palm onto the ground, and Fū shuddered as chakra washed across the Senju compound. She gazed around in awe as a visible barrier burst to life around them, a dome-like structure thrumming with energy to her sensory abilities. Beside her, the male Jinchūriki released noises of surprise. "Saiken," Utakata murmured. He sounded a little lost amidst the shock.

She could feel something different in the boys' chakras. Gaara's was more familiar, a return to how it had felt a week ago, before his supposed arrangement with the Ichibi sealed inside, but Utakata's was more muted. The tide of…stickiness…that had always underlain the Kiri-nin's own soothing chakra – what he'd said was the Rokubi – was gone, leaving the brunet's genial nature fully exposed.

While their natures had always been easy to detect, with the Bijū repressed, they seemed purer – more real – to her perception. She wondered what Naruto would feel like, his sunshine optimism unburdened by the Kyūbi's toxicity.

"Aaaaand back on," Jiraiya said, releasing his chakra and allowing the barrier to collapse. To her senses, the One- and Six-Tails' chakra flickered back to life, and only her nearness allowed her to catch Utakata's low breath of relief.

"Shukaku says he is impressed with your abilities. He did not think there still existed humans with such sealing expertise. That was a large-scale Gogyō Fūin, yes?"

"A mixture of that and some other tricks I've learned. Gotta plan accordingly when you agree to house six Jinchūriki." Fū winced, drawing a glimpse from Utakata and an apologetic look from Jiraiya. The Sannin cupped his chin, appearing thoughtful. "Never been complimented by a Bijū before…not really sure how to feel about that. But!" he added with a clap of his hands, "I think I've made my point. No, I'm just genuinely curious to see what tricks you're picking up. My sensei believed you never stop learning, and I agree."

Fū and Utakata exchanged glances once more, the Taki-nin looking for guidance, but before he could offer a response, Gaara kneeled and announced, "I have been practicing my fūinjutsu."

The kunoichi leaned over to get a better look at what the redhead was drawing, and Utakata stepped around her for his own vantage point. One finger was pressed into the earth and tracing what Fū could only interpret as scribbles. It felt like watching a foreign language being created. When he was done, he stood up and took a step back, then held his fingers in the sign of the Bird.

A piercing shriek rent the air, Fū, Utakata, and Jiraiya all clapping their hands to their ears to dampen the sound. It continued to blare like a klaxon, and Jiraiya shouted over it, "Security seal, huh? Nice! What's the range?" Gaara stared at him, unresponsive, and when the Sannin repeated his question to continued silence, he made a slashing gesture across his throat that had the Suna-nin deactivating the seal. Fū dropped her hands, ears ringing, and watched as tiny granules of sand floated out of her friend's ears. "What's the range?" Jiraiya repeated, boisterous voice a little too loud in the resumed quiet.

"Unknown."

"You didn't put a range into the seal?" Gaara shook his head, slow and intentioned, and Jiraiya dug a pinky into his ear in an attempt to clear out the ringing. "Consider that in your next iteration. Otherwise…very effective." He looked at the other two Jinchūriki, expression thoughtful, and then announced, "Well, I was thinking of doing this one at a time, but I just got a better idea. C'mon, let's go on a field trip."

Utakata looked as flabbergasted as Fū had ever seen him; she giggled, hiding her amusement behind her hand. "Sorry?"

The Sannin turned and beckoned for them to follow him. Gaara was the first to move, and Utakata almost threw his hands into the air in exasperation for the lack of answers, aborting the gesture halfway through and giving him the appearance of an uncoordinated dancer. Fū snorted at his distress – drawing another exasperated look from the brunet – and offered a comforting pat on the back before flouncing after the Suna-nin. She sensed the bubble-user hurry to catch up, and when he fell in step beside her, he commented, "You're taking this all very well."

"Sure," she chirped. "What else are we gonna do? Jiraiya's been supportive the whole time we've been here, and Gaara trusts him, so…" she shrugged, as if that was enough.

Given who they were, Utakata supposed, maybe it was. He offered her a wan smile, trying to find the whimsy in the moment that she clearly did. "He doesn't give you…whiplash?"

"Yeah, but that kinda keeps things interesting, y'know?"

"…You'll all be the death of me," he muttered.

Fū let out a laugh and nudged him with her shoulder. "Hopefully not for a long time, Utakata-nii."

The teenager gave a fond shake of his head, allowing the green-haired girl her amusement; it was a relief that her optimistic mood seemed to be a permanent fixture of her personality now, especially considering her first weeks in the Hidden Leaf. He pushed that thought out of his head as they continued their trek to wherever Jiraiya was leading them, knowing that falling too far down the rabbit hole of past mistakes was liable to put him in a dark place.

Instead, he admired the scenery as they walked, taking a deep inhale that lingered with more of the Land of Fire's foliage than he usually got from inside the Senju compound. He was grateful for the Hokage's sanctuary, but he would admit that it was nice to get out and explore without the threat of repercussions (including her irritation) looming over everything.

It didn't take much longer for them to arrive at an open area with lush grass and a few sturdy-looking ash trees. At the opposite end from where they entered lay a pond nearly 100 feet across, boxed in on three sides by a nearly 20-foot barricade of smooth stone. "That doesn't look natural," Utakata observed.

"Good eye," Jiraiya replied. "Welcome to Training Field 0, original secret spot used by Senju Hashirama and Tobirama, or as you might know them, the Shodai and Nidaime Hokages."

"Quaint," Gaara noted, and if anyone else had said it, Utakata might have thought it sarcasm.

"If this is a secret spot, how come you know about it?" he asked.

"Ah, well, my sensei was trained by Tobirama, so they used it all the time back in the day, and in turn, Sensei used it to train us. Thought it might be a fun little callback. So," he continued, clapping his hands together once, "now that we're away from prying eyes, let's have a little fun, hm?"

"And…what exactly is your definition of 'fun' in this case?"

"Let's say a three-on-one spar," came the flippant reply. "Feel free to use whatever skills you've got, minus your Bijū modes. Since there's no medics around, let's keep it non-lethal so we don't have any accidents, but we'll pretend everything is fatal. Acid, sand, wind, right?" he asked, pointing to Utakata, Gaara, and Fū in turn. They nodded, and the white-haired man grinned. "Excellent."

He launched himself at the trio, taking Utakata – who was expecting the older man to announce that they were ready to begin – by surprise; a barrier of sand sprang to life before him, soaking the Sannin's kick. Fū leaped around the defense with wind swirling around her fists, unleashing a burst of air at their attacker and hitting nothing. Her head swiveled to focus on Jiraiya's chakra signature, finding him 50 feet away and dancing lightly on his feet. "Fūton: Daitoppa!"

Earth crawled up Jiraiya's feet and locked his footing in place, only his clothes bearing the impact of her Great Breakthrough. His fingers blazed through hand signs before he slapped both palms to the ground and said, "Doton: Yomi Numa." A bog opened up between him and the trio of Jinchūriki, Fū boosting herself into the air with an expulsion of wind while Utakata darted for the pond. Gaara looked down as he slowly sank into the Swamp of the Underworld, letting out an 'ah' of mild concern.

Jiraiya looked up at Fū and sent his long white hair shooting towards her, the end opening into a maw that threatened to swallow her whole. The Taki-nin stretched her body out and pinwheeled through the incoming Wild Lion's Mane Technique with her Windmill Strike. She cleaved through his hair and just barely sensed a second presence appear in front of the Sannin before slamming into a metal shield with a heavy clang. A long moan escaped her lips as she staggered backwards, vision spinning. The Sannin's voice echoed in her ears for a moment ("Thanks Gamatate.") before she was grabbed around the middle and thrown through the air.

Utakata – riding the crest of a wave he'd summoned from the pond – caught the airborne Jinchūriki and briefly lost focus, vaguely registering Jiraiya asking for oil and then shouting, "Katon: Gamayu Endan!" He cradled the green-haired girl in his arms and jumped from the swell of water as the Toad Oil Flame Bullet struck and evaporated it. "Full hands, no seals, right kid?" Jiraiya asked.

Crap, he realized, just as the Sannin's red geta slammed into his head.

An ear-piercing shriek compounded the Kiri-nin's sudden headache, and even Jiraiya recoiled with his hands covering his ears. A stream of sand plowed into the Sannin and carried him away from the two teenagers. The silica began to squeeze, a threat of what it could do if left in place for too long, and the Konoha-nin's cheeks bulged before a yellow-brown fluid poured from his lips and spewed over his constraints. In a matter of moments, the sand began to slough off his form in rivulets of toad oil, and once his hands were free, Jiraiya reached into his vest, pulled out an inked slip of paper, and channeled chakra into it. "Torikeshi Fūin!"

Chakra rippled out at the activation, and a moment later, the klaxon of Gaara's Security Seal was silenced. Jiraiya shook his head, trying to clear out the ringing in his ears, and when he looked up, he was surrounded by bubbles. "Ah, that's a problem."

The bubbles exploded, sending the Sannin careening backwards through the ensuing smoke. He found purchase on the ground and immediately felt wind bite into his left clavicle. Jiraiya whirled clockwise to backhand Fū with his right hand, sending her spinning away him. "Whoops…hope that doesn't leave too much of a mark." He glanced at his shoulder, where there was a noticeable rip in his vest and a spreading patch of blood, and let out an amused huff. "Good hit, though. Guess that'll make the rest of this a bit more interesting." He held his left arm behind his back in parody of having lost it and then gestured to the two males with his right. "Shall we continue?"

Utakata glanced backwards at Gaara, as if to confirm the other boy's status, and when he returned his gaze forward, Jiraiya was bringing a knee into his stomach. He gasped with the blow, managing to grab the older man's shoulders and dropping his protective chakra layer so that the Tokeru was active. A dilute acid began to erode through the Sannin's clothes.

Until an orange-sized sphere of swirling blue chakra slammed up into his stomach.

The force was enough to send him skyward, where he plummeted back down into the pond with a loud splash. "We'll call that one down."

"Ryūsa Bakuryū."

Sand rose in a towering wave over him, and the Sannin summoned another Rasengan to his right hand, leaping to punch a hole directly through the incoming Quicksand Waterfall Flow. On the opposite side, Gaara moved his arms, and the particulates swirled from the threatening tsunami into two thick strands that formed into long arms with hands at the ends. The sandy limbs moved towards Jiraiya and slapped the ground in an attempt to crush the man, but he hopped around them with a grace that belied his age.

He closed the gap to the redhead and attempted a flying roundhouse, but Gaara erected a sandy shield that soaked the attack. The Suna-nin folded the sand over the older man's leg, but Jiraiya spat oil at the compacting granules, and they immediately lost cohesion, allowing him to slip free. When he landed in a crouch, he slapped his palm to the ground and said, "Kuchiyose: Gamaguchi Shibari."

A pulsating, fleshy mass grew around them and expanded into a narrow corridor. Gaara looked around, expression speculative. "This looks organic."

"Got it in one, kid. You're lookin' at the esophagus of one of Mount Myōboku's giant toads. It'll keep you contained until this fight's over."

Teal eyes narrowed. "I prefer freedom." The sand swirling around him condensed into a spear that shot towards the Sannin, who dodged with a surprised 'Whoa!' More spears formed and flew at him, forcing the Konoha-nin into a series of complex contortions to avoid them, and after the fourth one went past, he let out a yelp as a stabbing sensation dug into his kidney.

Jiraiya glanced down at the sandy javelin sticking out his back and made to grab at it, only for it to dissolve in his hand, silica slipping through his fingers. "Cute." His hair tripled in volume with the activation of the Hari Jizō, and with his back protected, he returned his gaze to his young pupil—

Gaara's fist – covered in sand to mimic spiked brass knuckles – slammed into his cheek. He staggered back a step and sent his hair roaring towards the redhead with the Wild Lion's Mane Technique. Jiraiya ran his tongue over his teeth and spat out a bloody loogie. "Heh, alright, that was a pretty good hit. I definitely underestimated how much Han has taught you. Guess I'll have to force you to stay. Put. Doton: Yomi Numa!"

For the second time, the redhead began to sink into the Swamp of the Underworld; sandy hands quickly coalesced and pulled him free from the muck with a loud slurp, and while the Sand Genin was prostrate in the air, Jiraiya leaped into another roundhouse that the teenager couldn't block. The attack sent him careening into the fleshy wall, and the esophagus immediately grew over the redhead's body until only his head was free. Jiraiya walked up to the constrained boy and gave him a once-over, ignoring the dour glare shot his way. "Now be a good boy and stay there."

The Sannin walked through the Toad Mouth Bind wall as if it wasn't there and emerged back in the sunlight of Training Field 0. In an instant, Fū was upon him with wind swirling around her fists, and Jiraiya felt the air slice into his ribcage. He lashed out instinctively, but the girl dodged and unleashed a Whirlwind Fist that caught the older man and sent him spiraling into the air. She jumped after him with a burst of chakra, but he righted himself and breathed flames that the Taki-nin tried to block with her fists.

Instead, the wind she was manipulating erupted into a conflagration that blinded her and tore a shriek from her throat. Fū released the winds, the fire dying without a fuel source, but Jiraiya was in her space with a slip of paper in his hand that he stuck to her forehead. "Fūin!"

The seal activated, and Fū immediately fell asleep, her body boneless in midair. Jiraiya managed to scoop her into his right arm and fall gracefully back to the earth. Utakata, water-logged, was seated on the ground and watching with his head in his hand; when the Sannin landed, he got up and moved towards where the white-haired man was laying the kunoichi on the grass. "So, did you learn anything interesting?" Utakata asked, an edge of sarcasm bleeding into his tone.

"One moment," came the reply. "Gyaku Kuchiyose no Jutsu," and then Gaara was beside them, visage annoyed and posture rigid. That done, Jiraiya bent over and removed the seal from Fū's forehead; she jackknifed upright with a gasp. "So, let's talk about what we learned.

"Gaara, not bad. Really. Looks like your control over your sand is back in force, and you're not afraid of engaging in taijutsu, which I think I can safely say no one would expect, especially given your reputation. You have a pretty significant weakness to liquids—"

"Yes, I am aware." He frowned. "If my sand is wet, it is much slower and difficult to reshape. I am not sure there is a solution…" he paused for a moment, cocking his head to the side like a bird. "It is not a problem Shukaku seems to have ever resolved either. The material properties of the sand cannot be altered."

Jiraiya cupped his chin in thought. "It's an interesting conundrum, that's for sure. I once knew someone who had a similar issue."

"And what did he do?"

"She…" he sighed. "I'm not sure. We never got that far. I think you may have to diversify your skills a bit further so you have something that isn't reliant upon your sand." He let that sit for a moment, then turned to Fū. "You're also very impressive. That was a couple of debilitating hits you got me with. Mixing wind and taijutsu is definitely a strong combination, but you could use another skill that gives you more range. Either mastery of long-range Fūton jutsu or something else." Fū nodded once, a small, self-satisfied grin twisting the corner of her lips. Then Jiraiya turned to Utakata, and his normally jovial expression slipped into something pensive, disappointed. "I'm not sure what to say about your performance… I'll be honest, my initial thought was that I expected more from a Jōnin of Kirigakure, especially a Jinchūriki. I've seen you fight, I know you're capable—"

"That's not fair!" Fū protested. "Utakata-nii's fought some really hard battles, including against Akatsuki! He's protected us from some big threats—"

"That's the problem," Jiraiya interrupted. "He's too distracted being a protector for everyone else that his head isn't focused on the actual threat. I took advantage of him when he turned to check on Gaara, when he should've been pushing his advantage instead."

"I'm sorry," Utakata apologized, sounding contrite. "You're right that I've gotten into the habit of…overseeing everyone. Ever since Yagura…"

The Sannin nodded. "I understand. While I may not look it, I, too, have failed on a great many occasions. More than I care to recall. In fact, I've got a book that you might be interested in reading… But! You should be learning from your mistakes rather than repeating them.

"Don't get me wrong, I'm not advocating for you to fight like a Kiri-nin, or at least not completely; fought enough of 'em in my life to know that we believe in very different things. And your desire to protect those you care about is in line with the Will of Fire, which I believe you should be commended for. But you should also temper your desire to protect your fellow shinobi with faith that they can handle themselves. Gaara and Fū are both very capable, and this was a fight with very little stakes."

Utakata inclined his head, a respectful, if curt, bow. "I understand."

Jiraiya clapped his hands together and started walking away. "Excellent! I think we can call that a day then, hm? I'd like to get Tsunade to look over these injuries, maybe get a nice nurse to give me a sponge bath—"

"Uhhh…"

"Ah, but first!" He placed his hand on a large rock, and an array lit up under his fingertips. "Maki Modoshi Fūin."

All around them, Training Field 0 seemed to regrow charred vegetation and fill in divots in the earth, restoring itself to its original pristine condition. The trio of Jinchūriki looked around with awestruck expressions – Gaara's more openly curious than his usual blank façade – and Fū managed to find her voice first, asking, "What was that?"

"Hm? Ah, right. Rewind Seal. The Shodai and Nidaime together were masters of Mokuton and Suiton, and the Nidaime was a prodigy when it came to space-time ninjutsu, so they created this area so that it could easily be reused by future generations. Least, that's how Sensei explained it to me, and I assume that's what the Nidaime told him. Never been able to dissect the seal myself, unfortunately; space-time stuff requires some hefty knowledge that I've never really had the patience to crack, not like the Nidaime or Yondaime. Nowadays, I just leave it alone as a matter of respect. Sometimes you just gotta trust those that came before you.

"Anyway, think about what I said."

The Jinchūriki watched him depart, trailing after him until he disappeared in a Body Flicker, then exchanged glances and continued the trek back to the Senju complex in contemplative silence.

Naruto saw Fū's head tilt upward and followed the movement, several ANBU leaping overhead and settling themselves on the path leading towards the Senju complex. The green-haired girl made a noise of mixed surprise and joy, but it was Jiraiya's drawl from behind them that really answered the blond's unspoken question. "Well well well, look what the cat dragged in. And how was the homecoming? Ōnoki as pleasant as I remember?"

"He don' change none, if that's what yer concerned 'bout."

"We didn't make it back," Han interrupted, baritone resonating with annoyance, "and I prefer to not dither around with these inane pleasantries. Remove your seal, and then we will have words."

Jiraiya released a sigh, though even through his exasperation, his lips tilted with mild amusement. "You guys never change."

Rōshi shrugged; Han's brown eyes remained fixed and unimpressed. "He should come with," the giant added. Naruto followed the older Jinchūriki's outstretched hand to Utakata, who looked as surprised as any of them to be called out.

The Sannin shrugged back. "If you say so. If you'll all step into my office…"

"Jiraiya—"

"Sorry, kid. Hate to be a buzzkill and all that, but it sounds like this conversation is for adults only."

Jiraiya at least sounded apologetic, which was little consolation to the blond. He watched the trio of older demon containers follow the Sannin indoors, pouting at the perplexed Fū and ambivalent Gaara. "What do you think that's all about?"

"Dunno, but Han's chakra is really turbulent," Fū said. "Whatever's going on, I think he's pretty mad about it."

"Eh, Rōshi-oji's like that all the time, too, I think it's just part of who they are, y'know?" Naruto sat down and wrapped his arms around bent knees. Discouragement draped across his shoulders like a cloak. "How come they don't tell us everything?" the blond complained. "Aren't we all in the same situation? We're all Jinchūriki."

Beside him, Fū winced, then settled down on his left and slung an arm across his shoulders. "You could always ask Utakata-nii afterwards? He doesn't like keeping secrets."

Naruto hummed in response, resting his cheek on his knees so he could see her. "Only sometimes," he replied with a note of sourness.

"We hurt the ones we love the most."

Naruto's eyes focused past Fū and onto Gaara, seated beside the green-haired girl with his gaze lost to the distance. The Taki-nin also turned to look at the redhead, then exchanged a glance with the blond, one eyebrow raised. He shrugged in response, just as confused as her. "Huh?"

"An ideology posed by a philosopher," the Suna-nin intoned. "Despite all intentions and logic, people are liable to cause harm to those they care most about. This is likely due to increased interactions, so quantifiably, there are more opportunities to hurt those they interact with on a more frequent basis."

"…And because they're trying harder to do what they think is right for the person they may unintentionally be hurting," Fū added.

Gaara hummed thoughtfully. "I suppose that makes sense as well."

"By that logic, Rōshi-oji must love me a whole lot," Naruto muttered.

"I believe it is a reference to emotional rather than physical pain," Gaara said. "Inoichi is teaching me about various forms of relationships."

"You have to be taught—" He cut himself off as Gaara's flat, teal eyes caught and held blue ones, and it brought him back to their month on the road with Jiraiya, when the redhead had been physically and emotionally adrift. If the Suna-nin had known anything about relationships, familial or otherwise, it certainly wasn't in any capacity to understand the concept of hurting the ones you love. "Uh, right. Sorry."

A caramel-colored arm looped around his neck; on the other side, a second arm fell across Gaara's shoulders. "Well, we have each other, right?" Fū asked. "And we control our own actions. So we should just make a promise not to hurt each other! No secrets or lying."

Naruto found himself grinning. "Hey, yeah! Rōshi-oji and Han-san are such sticks in the mud, we don't wanna be like them. You, me, and Gaara, the inner circle." He held out both hands, the pointer and middle fingers of both extended towards the other two Jinchūriki.

Gaara continued to stare, watching the digits as if they threatened his peace of mind (or what little there was). Fū posed the question the redhead wouldn't. "What's that?"

"Oh, um, it's something we learned at the Academy. Iruka-sensei called it the Seal of Reconciliation. After you finish fighting with someone, you interlock fingers like this"—he moved his hands next to each other, hooking the pairs of the fingers around each in demonstration—"to show that you're still friends. It's more for sparring, but…" he shrugged, seemingly unperturbed by the deviation. "We're, uh…weird, right?"

"Unconventional," Gaara supplied tonelessly.

"Yeah, that! So why not make it work for us?" He proffered the fingers again, and Fū wrapped her own around his left ones. Gaara continued staring, teal eyes flickering up to find orange and blue watching him, the blond's infectious cheer mirrored on the kunoichi's lips. The redhead slowly reached out to finish the seal with both Jinchūriki, and with their vow made, the Leaf Genin allowed their connection to lapse, pillowing his head over his knees once again while he considered his two friends. Gaara seemed to be staring at his hands, as if inspecting them for some magical change now that they'd sworn allegiance to each other, so he focused on the Taki-nin. "Hey, Fū, you're a girl…"

She let out a gasp of mock-offense. "You're only now realizing this?"

He pouted in response. "No! I mean…you know how other girls think, right? So, like, if you kept fainting around someone, or like…had trouble lookin' at and talkin' to someone, what would that mean?"

"Naruto, I…" Fū looked distinctly uncomfortable. "I didn't have any friends in Taki; I'm not really sure what any sort of, uh, weird behavior like that would mean-ssu."

The blond's disappointment was nearly palpable. "Ah, that sucks. Every time I ask, Hinata gets really quiet and then turns red and faints."

"She is obviously attracted to you, likely in a sexual fashion."

Both Naruto and Fū choked on their spit, turning to stare at Gaara with wide eyes. The redhead's expression was as implacable as ever. "Gaara," Naruto began when he was sufficiently recovered, "not for nothin', but you're, uh…"

"Not great with people," Fū supplied. Beside her, the blond was nodding fervently. "Did you also learn that from Inoichi?"

"No." He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small book with a bright orange cover depicting a cartoon man chasing a fleeing woman. "This girl's reaction bears remarkable similarity to the female lead in this book series."

Fū leaned forward to better read the title. "Icha Icha Paradise?"

"Gaara…" Naruto's voice was cautious, with a slight hitch. "Where did you get that?"

"Jiraiya-sensei gave it to me when I asked if he had any suggestions on books to help further my understanding of interpersonal relationships." His timbre remained flat, even as his brow furrowed in as close to a sign of distress as the Sand Genin ever showed. "I admit, I do not fully understand the concepts presented within—"

"Gaara!" Naruto interjected, his protest bordering on embarrassment. "That's a filthy book for perverts! You shouldn't be reading that!"

"…I see," he replied, voice indicating no such thing.

"Wait." Fū turned to look at Naruto. "How do you know what's in that book?"

"…I, uh…" Naruto scratched his cheek with a finger, blue eyes searching the sky for an answer. "It was in the same section of the bookstore where there was stuff I may have looked at to perfect Oiroke no Jutsu?"

"Oiroke no Jutsu?"

"Yeah, I, uh…I'm not allowed to use it anymore," Naruto muttered. "Rōshi-oji forbade it."

There was a moment of silence – Naruto mourning the loss of his first real jutsu while Fū considered the implications of the technique's name – until Gaara spoke up. "As I was saying, her mannerisms remind me of how Kaneko reacts to Hiro here." He turned the book so that his companions could view the spread.

Despite his earlier protest, Naruto leaned forward to get a better look, his head right beside Fū's. On the pages was a series of sketches depicting a dark-haired woman and a short-haired man, the woman clearly adopting a flush of color and turning away from him as the panels proceeded until she eventually fainted. "Wait, the version I saw didn't have pictures," he muttered. "Where'd Jiraiya get this one…?"

"But Gaara," Fū pointed out, ignoring the blond's confusion, "the guy is naked in this scene."

The redhead turned the book around to scrutinize it, eventually letting out a ponderous 'ah'. "And you are suggesting this is influencing her reaction."

"Yeah, that would probably surprise most people."

"But they later go out for dinner. It is portrayed as a romantic gesture."

Fū shrugged. "But correlation may not be causation. I don't think they're related."

"Ah." Gaara's brow was still furrowed. "Then I have no further explanation for your question, Naruto."

"Yeah, I didn't think you…" the blond sighed. "Thanks, Gaara." He received a curt nod in return before the redhead's attention was captured by the book. With the Suna-nin distracted, Naruto focused back on Fū, who met his gaze and shrugged as if to say 'what can you do?' He'd really been hoping the green-haired girl could provide some insight into this phenomenon, but she seemed to be only slightly less clueless than Naruto himself.

It occurred to him suddenly that he didn't know much about Fū's life prior to Konoha. They'd met after he'd returned from the mission to bring Sasuke back to the village and had struck up an easy friendship based on their similar ages and outgoing personalities, but he'd never really dug deeper than that. As he thought about it, he realized he only knew bits and pieces of Utakata's and Rōshi's lives, too, little drips of information they'd provided to spur him to action during their months of training; hell, he hadn't even known the Iwa-nin was the son of the Tsuchikage until their meeting with Tsunade. Han was basically a blank slate, and while he probably knew the most about Gaara from their early travels searching for Tsunade, it was probably only a fraction of what there was to know.

After all, the other boy was apparently reading the Icha Icha series without anyone the wiser.

With this revelation, his friendships with the other Jinchūriki now seemed a lot more lopsided than he was comfortable with. Most of them knew of his hopes and dreams – proclamations to be the strongest, to become Hokage – his past, his burgeoning future, his favorite foods and hobbies, but he wasn't confident he could name most, if any, of those same things for each of the other Jinchūriki.

It was an indictment of how good a friend he considered himself.

Well, that was rectifiable. "What was it like, back in Taki?"

Fū blinked, shifting away just slightly with a mixture of surprise and sadness. "Oh, um…well, I guess it was…boring-ssu? Taki doesn't have a Kage like Konoha or the other big villages, so it's run by a group of Elders who are…paranoid, I guess? Well, there's a village leader, but he generally reports to the Elders, so…" she shrugged. "Anyway, there's a lot of distrust of outsiders there, so they…they set me up to sense for anyone who might infiltrate and threaten the village.

"But Taki's built inside a bunch of mountains, with access only through a series of tunnels protected by waterfalls, so the odds of invasion are super low-ssu. In all the time I watched for them, no one ever made it in…until Utakata-nii."

Naruto grinned despite the melancholy of the kunoichi's tale. "How'd he do that?"

Fū shared in his amusement, summoning a smirk in spite of herself. "Flew in right over everything," she said, raising her hand and floating it over their heads to demonstrate the Kiri-nin's arrival. "It was so cool to see someone…break the rules, y'know? I never…" She trailed off, seemingly ashamed of her compliance.

The blond decided to skate right past her sad self-reflection, thinking it would be better to not focus on it. "Yeah, Utakata-nii's kinda awesome like that. He and Rōshi-oji kidnapped me from a playground in the middle of the day and then spent months training me in secret without gettin' caught. They're pretty smart."

Fū nodded. "Utakata-nii was pretty impressive. He was so different from everyone else in Taki; I guess that's 'cause he knows what it's like to be a Jin…Jin…"

"Jinchūriki," Gaara supplied without looking up.

Fū winced, lips pursed together, then quietly admitted, "People don't really like us all that much."

There was a long silence as the trio digested her statement, Gaara even looking up from his book to glance at his companions. They both looked sad, which wasn't altogether unfamiliar when the past came up. He was becoming used to the yawning emptiness that accompanied their memories, and with Inoichi's help, he was learning how to process the ways he (and the other Jinchūriki) had been screwed out of a childhood.

From their expressions, it seemed that Naruto and Fū weren't quite there yet.

Naruto rose to his feet. "To hell with that. I know we've had it rough, but we've got each other now. Plus, ever since I became a Genin, I've got a bunch of new friends: Shikamaru, Chōji, Kiba, Hinata, Bushy Brows, Tenten…even Neji, Shino, and Ino when they're not bein' mean or super quiet. Although I guess Shino's more like Gaara…" he mused, before shaking his head to rid himself of the thought. "Anyway, you've met some of them, and a bunch of them like you guys, so we're doin' better every day and changin' peoples' minds. By the time I'm Hokage, everyone'll know who we are!" He reached out in camaraderie, watching Fū with blue eyes full of resolve, and she seemed to have no choice but to clasp hands and get pulled to her feet.

The pair glanced over at Gaara, who seemed to feel their gazes and offered his teal-eyed deadpan in response. "I do not yet share your faith in others," he stated, "but I will continue to wait and observe."

"C'mon, Gaara," Fū protested. "We became friends right away!"

"We are similar," the redhead asserted. "We have experienced similar pain…loneliness…retribution. Others…" he raised the book in his hand enough to make it obvious he was referencing it, "I am still learning about." Despite that, he still rose to a standing position, a gesture Naruto took as an indication of his support.

"Aren't you three cute?"

Naruto and Fū turned in the same direction Gaara was facing to find Jiraiya leading the three older Jinchūriki back to them. The blond felt momentarily deflated – he knew the Suna-nin well enough to re-interpret his standing motion as preparation for the others' arrival instead of solidarity – but ignored the swoop of disappointment in favor of giving the Sannin what-for. "Hey, shut up! When you leave us behind, what else are we supposed to do?"

"Yeh coulda kept trainin'," Rōshi drawled.

"We do that all the time! Sometimes it's okay to take a break!"

"Sorry to say, kids, but it's only gonna get more intense from here," Jiraiya said. "It sounds like we may have a lead on Akatsuki's base."

"What's Akatsuki?"

Rōshi rolled his eyes while Utakata glared at the white-haired man. Jiraiya let out a low chuckle of embarrassment. "Ah, whoops. Well, now that the cat's outta the bag…"

Utakata stepped forward and heaved a sigh. "Naruto, do you remember what I told you while we were training? About my friend Yagura and the people hunting the Jin—people like us?"

"Yeah. You said that they were using Yagura to find us, and that he's in danger. We're gonna save him!"

Utakata smiled. It didn't quite reach his eyes. "Well, Akatsuki's that group, and they're…" he sighed, trying to think of what to say without breaking the blond's spirit. "They can't be underestimated. I know you want to help, but they're as strong as—"

"Me."

Naruto blinked, blue eyes roving from Rōshi to Jiraiya to Han, all of whom had spoken. The trio spared glances at each other, the redhead shrugging at the white-haired man in a careless gesture. Even Utakata seemed momentarily stymied by the joint response until he finally agreed, "Yes, that."

The Kiri-nin was much easier to read than the stoic Rōshi and masked Han, and months of interactions with both Utakata and (to a lesser extent) Gaara had taught Naruto how to interpret some of the older boy's expressions. Utakata looked like he expected his revelation to crush the Leaf native, and if he was honest with himself, it hurt; he was trying his damnedest, but he knew that he was still nowhere near being able to take on any of the three Akatsuki-equivalent shinobi on his own. That even the bubble-user didn't consider himself at the same level was a red flag for what they were up against.

Instead, he looked to the side, where Gaara and Fū were silently following the conversation. The Suna-nin's expression gave nothing away, but the Taki-nin looked more nervous than scared. He reminded himself that they'd just made a promise to stand by one another no matter what, and that, on top of trying to save Yagura, he also wanted to do right by them.

But he also didn't back down from a challenge; his first fight with Rōshi, ill-conceived as it had been, was proof of that, and despite the beating he'd received, he couldn't say he'd change anything about their encounter. The Jinchūriki individually were all strong (albeit to varying degrees), but together, the blond had faith that they could overcome anything: the burdens of their pasts, the disrespect of their villages, the strength of Akatsuki…

It was Utakata's vision, but Naruto believed in it wholeheartedly.

He returned his gaze to Jiraiya, who seemed to be leading the discussion. "So what do we do?"

"Well, I'm gonna go see what I can figure out on this lead," Jiraiya said, "and in the meantime, we're gonna have you guys try something different. Nothing against your regular training, but you practice against the same person – or people – repeatedly, and you get used to their movements. So I'm gonna see if we can bring some, ah, guest teachers to shake things up."

"The Hokage will be okay with that?" Utakata asked.

"More than the fact that I've gotta bust my way into Ame," the Sannin muttered. "Ah hell, and here I thought I'd put that dumpster fire behind me."

"You do not have to go," Gaara said, sounding disinterested.

"Alas, if only that was true!" Jiraiya bemoaned theatrically. "Sadly, this is a grand opportunity to turn the tables on Akatsuki. Wrangling a group of S-class nukenin is no mean feat, so if we can cut the head off the snake, perhaps the entire organization will collapse."

Han grunted. "You say that like cutting the head off this particular snake is simple."

"Yeah, I suppose you now have pretty good firsthand experience that that's not an easy task." Another grunt, this one tapering off into a growl. "And I certainly don't disagree. Luckily, that part of the plan is still a ways off. Any other questions, or can I assume you're just concerned for little ol' me and we can skip the teary goodbyes for now?" There was a moment of silence as the older Leaf shinobi waited for a response, and when none came, he clapped his hands together and proclaimed, "Well, then I'm off to speak to Tsunade and then go on a daring adventure. Wish me luck!"

"Good luck, Jiraiya-sensei!" Naruto offered, Gaara echoing the blond's sentiment in his usual monotone. When the wandering Konoha-nin had disappeared beyond the Senju compound's boundaries, he turned to the assembled Jinchūriki and asked, "So what now?"

"You." Han's deep voice cut through the group, and only when the giant's hand fell on Utakata's shoulder did any of them realize who he was talking to. "You know of the Terumī?"

The brunet seemed momentarily flabbergasted before finally managing, "I…yes, of course. The Terumī were famous in Kiri for decades. They had a kekkei genkai, Futton—"

"Yes, I'm aware," the Iwa-nin interrupted. "Come with me."

He began to drag the brunet away, even while the kimono-clad boy protested, "You understand what I know is mostly theoretical, right?"

"Your theories haven't stopped you providing feedback before, why start now?"

Rōshi snorted as the pair disappeared around a corner, lips quirking in a rare gesture of amusement. The expression fell off as Gaara stepped forward, the older redhead raising an eyebrow in silent question. "You have fought Shukaku before," the boy intoned.

"Aye, an' its jailor."

"I would request that you impart upon me what you know of Jiton."

"…I use Yōton," the hermit deadpanned, "what d'yeh think I know o' Jiton?"

"More than our associates. While Shukaku can provide guidance on the intricacies, he cannot physically provide support, and he has indicated that Jiton is…personal to its wielder. I wish to draw on your experience to cater it to my own use."

There was a long moment of quiet that saw the two redheads in a standoff until the Iwa-nin grumbled, "…Ain't any dumber than anythin' else I done so far. Aye, fine, let's see what yeh an' yer caged friend got. Ain't like we don' need th' backup."

Naruto watched the pair of them walk away, turning to Fū when they were alone. "Well, I guess it's just us now. What should we do?"

"Everyone's learning something new," the Taki-nin mused. "I guess we should do the same…"

Naruto's blue eyes gleamed, excited with the promise of a new branch of the shinobi arts. "Yeah?"

"Want me to teach you Fūton? Or sensing?"

"Hell yeah!" He paused, a thoughtful look crossing his face. "But what'll you learn?"

Fū shrugged, seemingly unconcerned. "Maybe I'll learn something from how you fight." She let him consider that for a moment before adding, "You know, Naruto, not that I think Gaara knows what he's talking about – at least, not when it comes to relationships – but…maybe he has a point about Hinata? You guys seem pretty friendly, and I got a sense of her chakra when we went to save Gaara; I'm trying not to judge her based on that alone"—her cheeks pinked, eyes averting momentarily in a gesture of shame—"but she seems nice. If she doesn't hate you, it could be the opposite?"

Naruto was quiet in the face of the green-haired girl's analysis, and so she added a final, "Give it a thought," before pulling a leaf off the ground and handing it to him. "So, let's talk about Fūton."

He spent several days during the quiet intercessions after training considering Fū's words. It was an exercise in reflection and analysis, neither of which were his strong suits, but during the seemingly endless months dealing with Utakata and Rōshi, and then training sessions with Han, he'd developed a greater appreciation for thinking things through if the opportunity afforded it.

The problem was, he didn't really like most of the thoughts that were cropping up.

It was a painful thing to admit that the person he'd been in the Academy was…unlikable. He'd been a braggart, an irritant, and a disruption, and it wasn't like he didn't still tend towards those qualities, but now they were…tempered, he supposed, behind the almost-year of training with his fellow Jinchūriki. Getting reprimanded by Iruka and slapped around by Sasuke paled in comparison to being on the receiving end of Rōshi's temper.

So he could understand why his classmates – and especially Haruno Sakura, his (unrequited) crush – wouldn't give him the time of day.

Which begged the question: what did liking someone really look like, and what was the appropriate way to act?

He couldn't say that he hadn't had a crush on Sakura, but hindsight allowed him to see that he'd probably gone about displaying it in the wrong way. After all, he'd never gotten anything close to a date, and his memory suggested that Sakura's almost beat-for-beat attempts to wrangle affection from Sasuke hadn't gone any better. It suggested that whatever he'd been doing – whatever she'd been doing – wasn't effective.

Or maybe it was just that their targets – Sakura for him, Sasuke for her – weren't interested.

Once, it would've been hard to fathom that as a possibility, given his general awesomeness, but now, it was painfully clear that others did not always see the person he saw himself as. Being loud and over-the-top was useful for attracting attention, but it seemed to attract little else.

Unless what Fū (and Gaara) said was true, and that Hinata did like him.

It was weird to think that someone so different could develop a crush on him, but considering his (unlikely) friendship with Gaara, maybe there were stranger ideas. Then again, with what little he knew of Hinata, it didn't seem like too much of a stretch to assume that her infatuation might show itself in different ways than his and Sakura's had.

He scratched at the side of his head, fingernails digging through sunshine strands, and let out a frustrated noise. Why is this so confusing?

"You alright, Naruto?"

The blond craned his neck off his pillow to find Utakata standing in his doorway, fair features drawn in his patented expression of parental concern. He huffed out an exasperated breath and fell back to his futon, groaning, "Yeah, 'm fine…"

"You don't sound fine." Utakata's voice carried a touch of amusement, and Naruto found himself glad that it wasn't Han – or worse, Rōshi – who had overheard him.

"Utakata-nii, what would you do if someone liked you? Or, uh, how would you know they liked you if they never said anything to you?" Because really, that seemed to be the first half of his conundrum – if someone never said they liked someone else, like he had with Sakura, or most of the girls had with Sasuke – how could he know?

"Hmm…" The brunet stepped into his junior's bedroom and took a seat near the blond's feet. "I wish I could say I have some advice for you, but I'm afraid that you're talking about things outside my expertise. I've never…well, at this point, I don't think I need to explain to you what being a Jin—one of us has meant for interpersonal relationships."

It was easy to understand what the Kiri-nin was referring to; the Leaf Genin's friendless first 12 years were hard to put behind him despite the last year of camaraderie. Rōshi and his decades of isolation; Gaara and his social pathologies; Fū and her duties…none of them really knew how to work with people, and not necessarily through any fault of their own. That even Utakata, who seemed the most normal of them all, didn't have any wisdom for him was both frustrating and disheartening.

"But, for what it's worth, if anyone was going to break the mold, it would be you, Naruto. I can't say whether this…person…may or may not like you, but I don't think that that should sway your decision one way or the other. If you like them, then that should be enough for you to do something, if you want to. Honestly, I'm a little surprised you're putting so much thought into this. Do you want to go out with this person?"

The thought gave him pause. Utakata brought up a good point: why did Hinata having a crush on him (assuming that explained her behavior) play any part in what he should do? It hadn't changed how he had approached asking out Sakura, or how she or any of his other former female classmates had badgered Sasuke.

Maybe, instead of trying to analyze what Hinata's behavior meant, he needed to evaluate whether he liked her. He needed to sit on it, but the decision now seemed far less stressful than it had been. "Thanks Utakata-nii."

"No problem." The Mist renegade stood up and made for the entrance, bidding the younger Jinchūriki a good night on his way out.

After giving it a few minutes of thought, the solution ended up being very simple.

"Hey, Hinata! When we get back, wanna go get something to eat?"

The three members of Team 8 all turned to look at him, visible surprise painted across their faces, which Naruto thought impressive considering Shino's Gaara-like demeanor and recent tendency to wear obscuring higher-collared clothing and larger sunglasses. Hinata's pale skin was rapidly turning a dangerous scarlet, mouth opening and closing in imitation of a landed fish, and Kiba, of the three of them, was the one who managed to ask, "Are you serious?"

Naruto nodded vigorously. "Yeah! I mean, we finished the mission, totally kicked ass"—he offered a fist each towards both Shino and Kiba, the latter of whom gave him a wicked grin and bumped the proffered appendage, with an accompanying bark from Akamaru—"we'll be back soon, and we've done like a dozen of these, so why not celebrate, right?"

"You are proposing a celebration of teamwork, yet you have only extended an invitation to Hinata," Shino noted, stoic voice carrying an edge at being ignored.

"Er, well, I didn't mean to—"

"Yet you did." Naruto's eyes were now as wide as his companions', unnerved at the offense he unintentionally gave to the stoic boy. Then Shino spoke again, voice flattening out into its usual monotone, "However, I suppose these are extenuating circumstances. Your exuberance may be forgiven in this instance."

"Uh, thanks. And sorry."

"No apology needed." It was hard to tell thanks to the Aburame's high collar, but the blond got the impression Shino was smirking at him. "Why? I was making a joke at your expense. It was an opportunity I could not resist."

"Dude…"

Naruto mentally echoed Kiba's sentiment; he wasn't aware Shino even had a sense of humor. He turned to look at Hinata, who had remained silent throughout the entire exchange, only to find her standing stock-still. "Hinata?"

He heard Kiba sniffing beside him, and then Akamaru bark from his place on the boy's head. "Yeah, I think she fainted standing up. That's a new one. I guess we can carry her back?"

"I'll do it," Naruto volunteered. "It's, uh, my fault, right?"

"Astute," Shino deadpanned.

"And you thought the day would never come, eh Shino?" Kiba grinned. The Aburame hummed in reply, and as soon as Hinata was draped over Naruto's back, the group continued the trek back to Konoha. By the time they made it through the Hidden Leaf's great gates, Hinata was still prone on his back, and Kiba offered to take her back to her home while Shino reported the mission's success to the Hokage. Naruto took that as his cue to head back to the Senju complex, where he was greeted by an enthusiastic Fū, who was willing to listen to his recap of his time away.

It wasn't until he was about to tell her about his (failed?) attempt to ask Hinata out that she interrupted, tapping him on the shoulder and pointing to the entrance of the Senju compound. The Hyūga was standing beneath the wooden archway, fingertips poking each other in an unsure gesture. "Oh, hey Hinata!" Naruto rose to his feet and jogged towards the dark-haired girl, who proceeded to blush to her roots and seemed to fight to maintain eye contact.

Fū watched the pair interact from afar, head tilted in curiosity. Her previous observations – and reads of the girl's chakra – suggested that the Hyūga was nice, and she wondered if the kunoichi (and her teammates) would be interested in being real friends…assuming Tsunade would ever allow them to interact at more than just a distance.

"What is happening?"

She turned to find Gaara approaching from behind. "I think Naruto finally figured out the answer to his problem from last week," she replied, gesturing to where the pair of Konoha-nin were heading toward the main village. Her orange eyes gleamed with excitement. "Wanna go see what they're up to?"

Gaara peered back at where he'd approached from, and the former Taki-nin followed his gaze. A thick mist covered a large portion of the courtyard, and within it, Fū could detect the muted chakra signatures of Utakata, Han, and Rōshi, as if the haze was trying to disguise the older Jinchūriki from her senses. "Rōshi acquiesced to Utakata's request for training, so I am…bereft a tutor, at least temporarily," he intoned. "What do you propose?"

Fū didn't bother responding, instead turning back around to follow Naruto and Hinata's path at a safe distance; with her sensing abilities, keeping an eye on them wasn't needed, and Gaara seemed content to maintain their sedate pace. She could feel a pair of ANBU tracking them, but to her surprise, they didn't intervene. The pair of Leaf Genin eventually settled in one spot, and Fū found a copse of bushes where they had a good view of a food stand. The name across the top read 'Ichiraku Ramen', and she could make out Naruto's familiar back – seated at a stool – even from afar.

"Now what?"

"Dunno," Fū replied. "What's your book say is supposed to happen?"

"They engage in pleasant conversation, with the goal of the man to try to…'get lucky'. I do not understand the role one's luck plays in engaging in sexual intercourse—"

"Maybe we leave that discussion for another day," the Taki-nin suggested.

"Mm." He opted to sit down and open said book, quickly becoming absorbed in the pages. After a few minutes, Fū realized he probably had the right idea; they couldn't hear any part of Naruto and Hinata's conversation, and while she could read general contentment – and flickers of shyness and embarrassment from Hinata – it gave little indication of what was actually happening. So they sat, and waited, and sensed (in Fū's case) in the quiet of the mild December afternoon—

"I know you're there, you might as well come out."

"Your abilities are impressive," Shino stated, emerging from the nearby shadows with Kiba a footstep behind. Gaara closed his book and looked up with a questioning noise. Kiba grinned at Fū from over the Aburame's shoulder, and Akamaru trotted up to her, sitting on his haunches and tapping her knee with a paw.

Fū scratched the puppy under his chin, commenting, "Yours, too." She proffered her free hand, over which crawled a tiny grey-black beetle-like insect. "This is yours, right?"

Shino looked…stunned, like Gaara when she'd asked to be friends. From her periphery, Kiba appeared to be choking back a guffaw. "I…it was not my intention to offend. A lone female kikaichū on her own is harmless; she merely provides a scent marker for the rest of the swarm. It allows me to…keep tabs on those of interest."

"Jeez Shino, your smooth-talkin' could use some work."

"Does that mean he is trying to woo Fū?" Gaara asked.

Kiba snorted again, amused despite shooting a wary side-eye at the Suna-nin. Akamaru seemed to follow his partner's lead, swiveling in the redhead's direction and releasing a high-pitched whine. Gaara extended a slow hand towards the puppy, palm up, and Akamaru stretched his nose towards it; he gave a tentative sniff, then gave the proffered fingers the barest lick. Taking that as a sign of trust, Gaara followed Fū's earlier lead and scratched the dog under his chin. "Huh," Kiba mused, "how 'bout that…"

"I'm not offended," Fū said. "You placed her on me back when we rescued Gaara, right?"

Shino nodded. "Yes. Why? I was curious as to your person, ever since Kiba told me about how you rescued him. Our meeting on that mission proved…fortuitous. But…you have known since then? And you have not rid yourself of her?"

"Nah, she's cute," the Taki-nin replied, watching the beetle crawl around her hand. "And since she wasn't causing harm, I figured I'd wait and see what came of it."

"You are…quite unique."

"Thanks!" She glanced over at Gaara, who was singularly focused on gently lavishing attention upon Akamaru. Kiba was watching the redhead with an indecipherable expression, chakra rolling in preparation to react if needed, but remaining contained. He seemed to be trying to reconcile what he knew of Gaara – the version that Fū hadn't known in any real sense of the word, the one who was cold and desolate, a desert at midnight – with this person who seemed at peace with petting a dog. With a shyness she hadn't felt in a while, she glanced at Shino and asked, "Do you…want to be friends?"

The Aburame arched an eyebrow over his sunglasses. "You're not offended by my breach of…impropriety?"

"Nah," she chirped, "I get it."

"…Then I accept."

Fū leaned back on her hands and cocked her head at the two Leaf Genin. "So, what're you two doin' here?"

"You kidding?" Kiba asked. Stabbing a finger in the direction of the ramen stand, he added, "You know how long we've been waitin' for this to happen?"

"It has been…a sojourn," Shino agreed.

"We definitely weren't gonna miss this disaster."

"You don't know that," Fū frowned. "Naruto's a good guy!"

"True," Shino acquiesced, "and I'm sure Kiba did not mean to offend. It is just that…Hinata has been awaiting this moment for some time, and Naruto, despite his intentions, has not been known for his…awareness. Combined, these traits do not suggest a…rewarding social experience."

"Not that I think that Shino's the expert on 'rewarding social experiences'," Kiba smirked, "but he's right about this. We wanted to make sure that things don't go too badly at the end of the day."

"Things will turn out okay," Gaara intoned, interrupting Fū's pending protest. His fingers had stilled in Akamaru's fur, and the dog whined at him. The redhead continued petting him. "Naruto has a way about him."

Shino let out a 'hm' in response. "True enough. We shall wait and see then."

It was a strange asymmetry that, after so much time badgering Sakura for a date, he was finally on one and had no real clue what to do. Hinata at least was making the whole thing pretty easy, but it reminded him that he hadn't really paid a whole lot of attention to most of his classmates back at the Academy.

He supposed it wasn't all too dissimilar from the recent realization that he hadn't been all that great about getting to know his fellow Jinchūriki on a personal level.

Well, at least he could apply the same lesson here.

"So, what do you like to do for fun?"

"O-oh, um, I like to…press flowers." Her fingers twiddled together with nervous energy on Ichiraku Ramen's countertop. White eyes seemed fixated on pale hands, except for tiny glances she kept throwing his way while he watched her.

"That's cool!" he enthused. "You guys have a garden?"

Hinata nodded. "Several. My m-mother…she would bring me outside a-and we would tend to many of the Hyūga gardens together. She grew…beautiful flowers. When one fell off, we would gather it, and p-press it into a book. Mother would say that…life was transient, b-but beauty could be f-forever."

"Huh, that's kinda…poetic." Steaming bowls of ramen were placed before them, and Naruto offered his thanks before digging in. "So you and your mom still press flowers together?"

Hinata, about to take a mouthful of noodles, slowly lowered her portion. "Um, my mother…passed away shortly after my sister was born." If it was possible, her demure voice sounded just a little quieter.

"Oh. I'm sorry." He felt stupid now; lacking a parent felt like one of those super obvious things he should've known going in. "You have other family, right? None of them want to do that kind of stuff?"

"My f-father…does not spend time on things he considers…beneath him. He is more interested in training my sister Hanabi. And my cousin Neji—"

"He's your cousin? You guys are so different!"

Hinata looked away. "I-I know…he is much stronger—"

"Eh? Whaddya mean? You're super strong, Hinata!"

Red colored the Hyūga's cheeks, dark hair fluttering around her as she swiveled to face him, white eyes wide with surprise. She looked pretty like this, Naruto observed, even though it wasn't the first time she'd grown embarrassed in his presence. "Besides," he added, slurping up the last dregs of his bowl, "you're way nicer than Neji. I've worked with him on a few missions, he's kind of got a stick up his butt."

"Neji-nii-san has…not had an easy life. But he's been better recently, a-a little anyway."

Naruto appeared thoughtful. "Y'know, I've known a bunch of people like him, and it seems like it just takes time. I don't know what his issue is, or was, but it sounds like maybe he's coming to terms with it?"

"Is that wh-what happened with Gaara-san?"

"Oh, uh…" He crossed his arms and looked up at the ceiling. "I think so. I hope so, anyway. Gaara's…complicated," he lamented.

Hinata let out a quiet giggle, and Naruto grinned in response. "So just like Neji-nii-san then."

The blond ordered a second bowl of ramen and leaned back on his stool, casting a side-eye at the Hyūga. Hinata was easy to like, and didn't seem as…judgy, perhaps, as some of the people he was used to dealing with: Rōshi, Han, Neji, even Kiba, Shikamaru, and Shino to a lesser extent. It was a lot nicer to deal with the Hinatas and Fūs and Lees of the world, even as he'd learned to adapt to…crankier folks. "You could always knock some sense into him the hard way?" he suggested.

"A-ah, n-no, that would…not end well."

She seemed down, and Naruto was beginning to realize that Neji – perhaps her whole family – was a sensitive subject. "You could come over and train with us anytime, if you wanted. You know Gaara and Fū, er, kinda anyway, and I'm sure Rō—uh, no. But Utakata-nii is smart and kind, and if you ever wanted to get stronger than you are now, maybe we could help with that!"

"You think so?"

He nodded enthusiastically, ramen broth from a few hanging noodles dripping everywhere. "Yeah!"

Hinata watched him for a long moment, thoughtful while he continued to eat. "That would be…nice. Could…could Kiba-kun and Shino-kun comes as well? Kurenai-sensei has us train as a team, and it might help prepare us for…different opponents."

"Sure, I don't see why not."

"Th-then…it's a date."

Naruto blinked, surprised, and then grinned. "I guess it is." Hinata's own smile was smaller, but no less genuine, and the blond realized that all the indecision had been worth it if the end result was bringing everyone together. Yeah, this'll be fun!

Chapter Text

"Why can't I go outside?"

"It's not yet time."

She puffed her cheeks out, aggravated. "Everyone else my age gets to go out and play."

Hard eyes stared down at her from sockets lined with crow's feet, unsympathetic to her childish upset. "You are not like everyone else. It would be best if you stopped thinking you were."

Then he departed, and Fū was left alone with only that sad truth to keep her company.

It was one of those rare early mornings where Fū was full of enough jittery energy that she couldn't sleep in. She liked spending time with Naruto – her primary training partner while Han pulled nuggets of information about Boil Release from Utakata, and Gaara learned Magnet Release under Rōshi's scrutiny – but the blond still got called away on short missions that left the green-haired girl shy her usual partner, and those days left her a bit more amped than usual.

She crept out of her room, down the hallway, and exited to the courtyard, jumping to the roof in one easy motion and making her way to where Gaara usually held silent vigil. To her surprise, the redhead's gaze was fixed not on the breaking sunrise, but on his own left wrist, over which an implement in his right hand was poised with purpose. Concerned, Fū let out a cry of his name and rushed to his side.

Gaara looked up at her with his familiar blank expression and blinked. "Yes?"

Now that she was closer, it was obvious the object in his hand was a fine-pointed brush rather than something sharp, and she breathed a sigh of relief. Though it hadn't been even a remote consideration since she and the redhead had saved Naruto's friends, she couldn't say that the thought of ending it all had never crossed her mind, especially back in the Hidden Waterfall, where she'd been alone and friendless. The only thing that had kept her going was the hope that things might change despite all evidence to the contrary.

Gaara hadn't really struck her as someone with suicidal tendences – especially now – but then again, their histories weren't so different that she thought she could discount the possibility.

Still, his chakra was as barren as usual – not as cold as when they'd met, a flicker of the desert sun having warmed his personality to a more comfortable ambivalence – so Fū didn't think she had anything to worry about; surely something so drastic would show up to her senses, even in someone as emotionally stunted as the Sand shinobi. She sat down beside him and nodded toward his arm. "What're you doin'?"

Teal eyes returned to the wrist, brush dropping to it. "We are Jinchūriki," he intoned, apropos of nothing.

Fū winced; she loved Gaara, but he was not what anyone would consider tactful, and getting over her immediate reaction to the word she'd been denigrated with most of her life was still a work-in-progress. "Yeah…?"

"We contain creatures comprised of exorbitant chakra, both in quantity and by its nature. It occurred to me that our bodies are therefore built to store…things."

"Things?"

"Mm." He quieted for a moment, appearing thoughtful, and then continued, "Jiton…is not like other elements. Suiton, Katon, Yōton…I have seen Naruto and Rōshi summon water and fire and lava from nothing but their chakra. Alternatively, you use Fūton, and wind is present everywhere. They are elements that work based on your need.

"Jiton requires…something more. It does not appear to be inherently usable on its own. My…father"—the word seemed lodged in his throat for a moment, and Fū was reminded that the redhead's sordid history with his family was its own sensitive topic—"used gold to restrain Shukaku. And the Sandaime Kazekage used iron granulated like sand. Shukaku remembers him stealing the theory from a former Jinchūriki.

"All my life, I have borne a vessel to carry my sand. I do not wish to do the same for whatever tools I require for Jiton. But we are already vessels of the Bijū, so why not carry something more in the same way?"

"…You want to seal weapons inside your body?"

The incredulity of the idea was clear in her voice, but Fū also had to admit it was fascinating, and certainly had merit. From her position, she could see that the silica covering Gaara's wrist had scattered away to reveal the pale skin hidden beneath his Sand Armor, inky squiggles painted on flesh. She couldn't decipher any of the meanings – if there were any; sealing was such a fascinating, arcane art – before the redhead intoned, "Fūin," and the ink seemed to tattoo itself onto his skin. He switched hands and began to start painting on his right wrist, but blood-colored eyebrows furrowed within a few seconds. He held out the brush to Fū and asked, "Would you mind?"

"Oh, sure. What, um—" Sand rose into the air before them, creating the same series of marks that she'd briefly glimpsed, and Fū began tracing the patterns onto the boy's proffered wrist. "Thanks." Silence reigned between them as the Waterfall kunoichi drew on her friend's skin, and only when she added the final flourish did she ask, "If you're gonna seal a bunch of weapons, why not seal your sand, too?"

"…Ah." He sounded surprised by the question. "That had not occurred to me. Fūin," he added, sealing the new tattoo onto his right wrist.

"You don't find that gourd…burdensome?"

Gaara glanced at her, brow wrinkled with either an unspoken question or internal debate, she couldn't tell. She remembered dropping her own burden when Utakata had extended his hand in freedom – the red cylinder full only of bitter memories and heartache – and couldn't imagine going back for it.

"It has been a part of me for many years now, I had not…" He paused, thinking through his words in the meticulous manner she'd grown used to. "I suppose it is burdensome, but emotionally more than physically. For a long time, it kept Mother…Shukaku…sustained with…victims." His monotone changed at the end, and a brief read of his chakra suggested remorse or shame, similar to the feelings she registered from Utakata sometimes. "Now…if this works, you are correct that it would be unnecessary, nothing more than a reminder of who I was."

He stared at his wrists for a long moment, thinking, and Fū let him juggle those thoughts uninterrupted. "Inoichi says that change requires accepting what happened to me, who I was, and moving forward. I suppose this is part of that." She felt his chakra gather towards the new seals, and simultaneously heard the shifting of silica as his gourd dissolved. The sand split into two thick streams that disappeared into his wrists, the redhead letting out a hard exhale through his nose as the process finished.

"It worked," Fū breathed, awestruck.

"Mm." With a quick application of chakra, sand trickled from the seals and hovered over his palms, swirling through various shapes; another chakra pulse, and it vanished back into his wrists. "That was a good idea." He turned to look at her, stoic as ever, but the green-haired girl could sense his appreciation in the slight warming of his chakra, the sun rising inside him in mirror of how it rose outside. "Thank you."

Her acknowledgment of his gratitude was a little slow, orange eyes busy scrutinizing him. Gaara seemed different without the gourd so characteristic of his person. Taller…older…a little more self-assured. It was a new look for the reserved Jinchūriki, and to Fū, seemed like a physical manifestation of the redhead's changing outlooks.

She wondered if there was anything about her that had changed so noticeably.

Gaara seemed content to let their interaction lapse into silence, and now that the sun was fully risen, Fū thought it was time to begin the day properly. She bade the Suna-nin a cheery good morning and then disappeared back into the compound.

Fū returned to her room, stripped out of her clothes, and wrapped a white towel around her body, covering herself from collarbone to thigh. She padded silently out of her room and down the hallway, stopping only when another door opened and Han ducked out, the doorway a hair too short for his massive frame. Surprised to see the older Jinchūriki, and not wanting to be seen as unfriendly, she chirped a greeting and asked, "Hey, where're you goin'?"

"Out," he grunted. "I have an idea for one of Jiraiya's recommended 'guest teachers'."

The last words were said with the sort of casual sarcasm that Fū was used to hearing from the Rock shinobi, though it felt less…aggrieved, maybe, than she'd grown used to. It almost seemed like he agreed with the absent Sannin's methods, albeit unable to do so without taking a potshot in his usual manner. She wasn't sure whether she was more surprised by his seeming acceptance of the situation or what his answer implied. "We can go out?"

He didn't respond to her question, and the green-haired girl watched him go, the echo of his armored feet against the wooden floor unnaturally loud. Even after months together, Fū couldn't say she really understood Han any better now than she had when she'd first felt his chakra. It was true that he'd offered her the closest thing to a warm welcome that either Iwa-nin seemed capable, back when she'd taken a chance on Gaara after their self-ascribed mission together, but that moment of camaraderie was an isolated incident. He didn't hate her, but he didn't seem to like her either; they just…existed in the same space.

Being around him reminded her a little too much of how she'd grown up in the Hidden Waterfall.

Until the age of eight, Takigakure's Elders hadn't let her escape the prison of her 'house' (barring the times she'd snuck out on her own), preferring to keep her under their watchful eyes while honing her sensing abilities. They'd been bland and dispassionate and rigid with her upbringing, and she'd longed for nothing more than to explore and meet someone who saw her for her.

By the time she'd been deemed old enough to become useful, a tool of her village, she'd gotten so used to seeing the same four walls that even having access to only the entire Senju compound she currently inhabited – surrounded by several people who accepted her – was heavenly. It seemed a stark contrast to how Han appeared to see their situation.

She shook the armored shinobi's behavior from her mind and navigated the several corners and hallways that marked the familiar path to the baths. Ducking through the curtain revealed Rōshi, Utakata, and – to her surprise – Naruto soaking in the large open-air pool at the back of the house. "When did you get back?"

"Just before midnight," Naruto groaned, sinking further under the water's surface until only his nose and above were visible. He moaned, bubbles forming around his head, and a brief scan of his chakra showed that his usual boundless energy was low.

Fū nodded sympathetically, walking over to the bath and sitting down to put her feet in. The hot water warmed both her extremities and her spirit, and she let out a satisfied sigh, body relaxing. Thoughts uninhibited, the green-haired girl murmured, "Han said he was going out…"

"That moron," Rōshi grumbled, "runnin' wherever he damn well pleases…"

Utakata's golden eyes shifted to look at the Iwa-nin. "My experience so far would suggest that he's likely to get in trouble if he's this cavalier with the rules."

"Eh, I'm sure Tsunade won't give him too much of a hard time," Naruto said, surfacing to speak, even as Utakata shook his head in solemn disagreement. "Nothin' we can do now, right? Come on in, Fū, the water's great!"

His invitation was enough prompting to join them, but just as she was going to step in, a gravelly call of her name stopped her. Her head swiveled to the onsen's entrance, finding Gaara standing just inside the doorway with arms crossed over his chest. "You have visitors," he intoned.

Fū blinked. "I do?" Outside of the Jinchūriki, the only people she really knew in Konoha were the Hokage and Jiraiya, neither of whom should have any reason to ask for her specifically – the white-haired Sannin wasn't even in the village – unless…

She froze. What if Taki was inquiring about her? The Villages Hidden in Leaves and Waterfalls were nominally allies, and while it had been months since she'd been spirited away, it wasn't beyond the realm of possibility that her former home had finally accepted their failure to find her and gone seeking help from someone with more resources. It opened up the opportunity for her to be ripped away from the only people who understood (and even appreciated) her, placed back in the confinement of loneliness, separated from her fellow demon containers, her friends and found-family—

"Hey, what's taking so long?"

A fair-skinned face with baby blue eyes and platinum blonde hair appeared over Gaara's shoulder, the curtain parting at her intrusion. There was a moment of silence in which the collected Jinchūriki stared at the newcomer before the Suna-nin stated, sounding annoyed, "I told you I would let her know—"

The blonde's shriek broke him off. "Ino-pig, what's going on?!" yelled another voice, and then three more heads appeared around Gaara, all of them female and vaguely familiar – Naruto's friends, Fū realized – a crimson glow lit around the cheeks of the white-eyed one she recognized as Hinata.

"N-Naruto-kun…"

"Oh, Hinata, uhh…"

"What are you doing?!" shrieked the first girl. The blonde shoved her way past Gaara and into the bathing area, pointing a finger at Fū. "You can't bathe with them!" she continued, digit moving from the green-haired girl to the three partially submerged males. Fū followed the other girl's accusatory pointing to find Rōshi stone-faced and bored, Utakata's gaze averted away, and Naruto seemingly frozen in place.

Looking between the blonde and the bathing Jinchūriki, Fū thought that the other girl's gaze seemed to flick over and linger on Utakata at random intervals. "I can't?"

A girl with pink hair stepped around Gaara, whose chakra was starting to roil beneath his skin. Fū took a nervous step nearer to the Suna-nin. It seemed like the redhead's aversions to touch and crowds were building, the result of which none of them would want to witness. She was starting to wish she had some idea of what the other girls' names were (barring Hinata) – or that she had a fraction of their apparent confidence (or obliviousness) – so she could warn them to stop testing his limits. "I think what Ino-pig is trying to say is that since all us girls are in town, we wanted to know if you wanted to come to the hot springs with us."

"Sure, that, too—"

The pink-haired girl's hand slapped over the blonde's mouth, ignoring the blue eyes narrowing at her with ire. Friend silenced, she turned back to Fū with a patient smile, bright green eyes warm.

Fū blinked, feeling put on the spot, and managed to say, "Oh. Um…" She looked back at her fellow Jinchūriki, hoping for advice, and probes their chakra with her abilities. Rōshi still seemed bored by the proceedings, and Utakata felt like he was trying to vanish from sight. Only Naruto's attention was on her, blue eyes wide and pleading, his face nakedly begging her to accept.

It felt like he was asking her to bridge the gap between the Jinchūriki and his other friends, she realized with a start.

She supposed it made sense that it was her. Rōshi was sour on any form of camaraderie, even discounting that he was too old to connect with Naruto's peers; Han wasn't all that dissimilar. Gaara's social skills were proven to be nearly nonexistent, and while Utakata was charming, it was generally purposeful to achieving the goal of saving Yagura. Besides, of all the Jinchūriki, she was the one who actually sought friendships, so the presented opportunity seemed kind of like divine providence.

It was just surprising that she was being approached rather than initiating…or rather, that anyone would want to approach her.

A strange mixture of hope and shyness shot through her, and she bashfully acquiesced, "Sure-ssu. I'll, um, meet you outside?"

"Good idea," agreed the brunette still hovering over Gaara. She kept shooting furtive glances at the redhead, as if she was aware of his tendencies and was wary of being around him for too long; given that several of Naruto's friends had seemed to know the Suna-nin (despite him not recognizing them), that was entirely possible. "Come on you guys, the least we can do is let them bathe in peace." Hinata disappeared alongside the brunette, and the pink-haired girl dragged the blonde – whose gaze now seemed fixated on Utakata – past Gaara.

Once they were gone, Fū offered the other Jinchūriki an unsure look. "I guess I'll see you later?"

Rōshi – elbows reclining against the rocks ringing the water, head tilted back to look at the ceiling – grunted, and Utakata nodded, but Naruto's expression drowned out both of their reactions; his face shone with all the brilliance of the sun, as if the green-haired girl had given him his heart's desire. "Have fun!"

As she walked back through the curtain and into the house, Gaara – who had taken up silent post outside the bathing area after the quartet of girls left – fell into step beside her. Now that they were side-by-side, the lack of gourd and his straighter posture was even more apparent than it had been earlier. With the solemnness of one offering their condolences at a funeral, he uttered, "Good luck."

If she didn't know better, she almost might have thought it sarcasm, but that kind of nuance was beyond the One-Tail's jailor. There was a familiar combination of excitement and nerves at the potential lying just ahead. She chirped a quiet, "Thanks," before heading to her room to change into something more appropriate for going out.

Fū walked quietly beside Hinata as they followed the bickering blonde and pink-haired girl through Konoha, a distinct air of awkwardness hovering overhead. She was only slightly familiar with Hinata, to say nothing of the other kunoichi, and it was clear that they – or at least two of them – had enough history that she was an obvious outsider.

Practically a recurrence of how she'd started with the Jinchūriki group.

A gentle hand fell on her shoulder, and Fū's head swiveled to find Hinata offering her a soft smile. "Sorry about Sakura-san and Ino-san," she offered, voice demure. "They can be very…insistent."

"That's a generous way of putting it," the brunette just ahead of them said. She turned around to get a better look at the two girls in the back and added, "I'm Tenten, by the way." Pointing at the pink-haired girl and the blonde in turn, she added, "Sakura, Ino. And it seems like you already know Hinata."

"Yeah, we've met," Fū admitted.

"Don't let these two get under your skin," she advised. "Trust me, you'll go insane trying to corral the loudmouths if you can't learn to ignore them." She sounded exasperated, like her advice was borne of far too much personal experience. "But hey, we play the cards we're dealt, right?"

Utakata had said the same thing a couple of times in the past, normally with a bit more sadness tinging his chakra than she was currently sensing from Tenten. Maybe that was just how normal people felt?

"You know we can hear you, right?" Both Ino and Sakura had turned around to glare at them, the blonde watching with fists on her hips. Tenten smiled at them, sharp and knowing, and Ino rolled her eyes in response. "You get that one," she warned, casting the brunette a gimlet eye. "We're here, by the way."

Fū glanced up to find the entrance to the onsen greeting them. There was a second touch at her elbow, and the green-haired girl again found Hinata at her side providing silent comfort.

Even with the little interaction they'd had so far, it was becoming more apparent what Naruto saw in the white-eyed girl. She possessed the same sort of calming presence that Utakata was often capable of instilling, mixed with Naruto's bright optimism that things would turn out okay despite all odds.

With Hinata at her side, it felt like she could maybe make it through this outing.

They stepped into the building and Fū followed the Hyūga's lead through disrobing and grabbing a towel, making their way to the outdoor baths where Ino, Sakura, and Tenten had already settled in. The former two waved at them as they walked through the door, the gesture lethargic; it seemed like the onsen had already soothed whatever quarrelsome energy was among them. Fū sank into the steaming water to her chin, orange eyes scanning the remaining quartet.

It was one of those situations that the Nanabi Jinchūriki wasn't sure whether to call a dream or a nightmare. On the one hand, she'd wanted nothing more than to make friends, to find people who would like her and accept her, and this seemed like an opportunity to expand that long-sought dream beyond the five Jinchūriki (three if she discounted the two aloof Rock shinobi) she'd bonded with. But then, there was also the fact that these Leaf kunoichi were normal people, who didn't know her, who weren't really obligated to her in the same way her fellow demon containers were, and who could very easily reject her.

It was clear the girls already had a history that she wasn't privy to, one that connected them in ways that excluded her. If the way they bickered was any indication (and was in any way similar to how Jiraiya and Tsunade fought), Sakura and Ino seemed to go way back, which just seemed to reaffirm all that the Nanabi Jinchuriki hadn't had growing up in the Hidden Waterfall.

Ino broke her internal quandary with a long, relaxed 'ahhh'. "Isn't this great, Fū? Much better than where we found you. You shouldn't have to bathe with all the guys. It should be like this, just us girls."

"Why were you with them anyway?" Tenten asked, curious.

Fū shrugged, already feeling judged and trying not to show it. "It's just what we do-ssu."

"Every day?" Ino sounded scandalized. "Does no one know how to respect a lady's privacy?"

The green-haired girl didn't know how to respond to that; it had been her idea from the get-go to share the bath, having nothing to hide from her fellow Jinchūriki and wanting to feel more like one of them, and there really hadn't been any protests to the contrary (though Utakata studiously kept his eyes averted upon entrance/exit, and Naruto typically closed his own, red coloring sun-tanned cheeks). Just because she could identify some more obvious social proprieties, as she'd pointed out to Gaara, didn't mean that she considered them applicable to her; maybe that was part of the reason why the redhead was so confused in reading Icha Icha Paradise, in that their internal interactions didn't match what was "normal." Judging from her companions' reactions, it seemed likely this was a greater social faux pas than she'd considered, not to mention one she should've apparently been more aware of.

But how could she tell them that she barely knew how to be a girl, let alone human? Being a Jinchūriki was all she'd ever known, and they were all she had.

"Um, N-Naruto-kun isn't like that…"

Sakura shot the Hyūga a pitying look. "Don't let your love blind you, Hinata."

"Although," Ino interjected, pointer finger on her chin as if pondering deeply on the matter, "I bet that brown-haired guy isn't like that."

"The one who was also in the bath, Ino-pig?" Sakura's skepticism was tinged with sarcasm. "Who do you think you're kidding?"

"Watch what you say, Forehead, I saw how gentlemanly he could be when I healed him in the forest. Hey, Fū, that's what he's really like, right?"

The Jinchūriki startled at the address, having slipped into a familiar, quiet melancholy at all the experiences she'd been deprived of living in the Hidden Waterfall. "Uh, you mean Utakata-nii-ssu? He's, um…driven," she decided, thinking about how he'd successfully pulled together six Jinchūriki from five different countries, all for the sake of saving his best friend. "Charismatic. Very kind…or at least not intentionally cruel." He'd made mistakes, sure, but never anything that he hadn't tried to apologize for immediately upon learning about them.

Ino was nodding as she digested the other girl's descriptions. "But what's he like?" she repeated, a strange gleam in her baby blue eyes and a salacious grin on her lips.

Fū frowned. "I don't—"

"Ugh, keep it in your pants, Pig," Sakura said, sending a small splash in the blonde's direction.

"Hey, hey, you saw him, right? He's hot."

"So I guess that means you're over Sasuke-kun now, huh, Pig?"

"Duh," Ino replied, and her voice was suddenly far more serious. "He almost got Chōji and Shikamaru killed, and now he's in prison."

"House arrest isn't prison."

Ino waved a casual hand through the air, dismissing her friend's correction. "Might as well be. Whatever. The point is, things change. Don't tell me you still like him?" Sakura's embarrassed silence seemed to be its own wordless confession, and the blonde continued, "There're other fish in the sea, Sakura, and I've got my eyes on Utakata-san." She turned to Fū and asked, "You're not interested in him, right? 'Cause I can handle the competition, but—"

"You mean…romantically?" Fū blurted out. She tried to picture her and the Kiri-nin in the context of the characters in Gaara's book and burst out laughing at the image. "No way."

"Perfect. Hands off, ladies, he's mine," Ino warned, glaring at the rest of the group. Tenten held up her hands in mock surrender, as if to indicate that she had no interest in the blonde's stake. Fū mentally debated informing the other girl that Utakata probably wasn't interested – his sole focus was on rescuing Yagura and keeping the rest of them safe from Akatsuki – but decided it wasn't her place to speak up for her brother-figure. Also, from what she'd seen so far, Ino didn't really seem like the type of person inclined to heed the unsolicited opinions of others. "Sooo…if you're not interested in Utakata-san, what about someone else?"

Fū shook her head. "Nope."

"Oh, come on! There's gotta be someone. Hinata's got Naruto, Sakura's got Sasuke, even Tenten's got Neji—"

"Neji and I don't have anything, he's just the only sane person on my team."

"Yeah, sure, that's what they all say," Ino said, rolling her eyes. "Ignoring that, you're the only one left!"

"I…" The ex-Taki-nin again found herself at a loss. It seemed like (yet another) quintessential moment that catalogued the vast difference in how she'd grown up in comparison to the Leaf kunoichi. There was no good way to explain that, by nature of being a Jinchūriki, she'd been locked away for almost a decade (barring her unsupervised escapades), and by the time she'd been officially released, she'd lacked the ability to interact with a world that wanted nothing to do with her. Being put on guard duty, realizing that no one but other Waterfall shinobi ever came and went, had crushed all hopes of being seen as anything more than a pariah…or a tool.

"Is it Gaara?" Ino pressed. "Or Naruto?"

The green-haired girl's protesting "No way!" was immediate. Despite lacking any sort of romantic experience, picturing either of the two boys in that context – slotting them into the pretend image she'd just had to create of Utakata as the male character in Gaara's book – felt innately wrong. There wasn't anything about her fellow Jinchūriki that intimated any sort of "interest" in the vein the blonde was suggesting; Gaara and Naruto were what she had imagined best friends or siblings would be like back in Takigakure, when such a thing was nothing more than a diminishing dream.

People who would love her without judgment and stand by her side as the days passed.

"You could also be a lesbian," Ino mused.

"Ino!"

Sakura sounded scandalized, and Hinata's cheeks were a deep red. Tenten face-palmed, hand meeting forehead in a loud smack. The blonde shrugged. "What? This is a judgment-free zone, I'm just saying it's a possibility."

"Ignore her," Sakura advised, "Ino-pig has been boy-crazy for as long as I've known her and doesn't realize that some people aren't comfortable talking about some things. Or have any semblance of privacy."

"I do, too!" Ino protested, indignant. "It's just…" She gestured towards Fū, as if that would explain her intention, and continued, "I thought it would be a fun way to learn something about each other. Girl talk, right?"

"Girl talk," Tenten huffed, rolling her eyes. "There's better ways to get to know someone than focusing on boys."

Hinata shifted closer and murmured, "S-sorry about that. It was rude to pry…"

The green-haired girl shrugged, unable to explain to a group of normal teenage girls just how abnormal she was. "It's fine-ssu. I've never really had any girl friends to talk with before." Or many friends at all, she added mentally.

Hinata smiled softly at her. "You do now…i-if you want."

The Jinchūriki returned the gesture, hoping it looked as genuine as it was intended; years of having nothing to smile about meant that she wasn't sure how it would come out, though none of her fellow demon containers had ever commented on it. Again, it was easy to see why Naruto enjoyed Hinata's company – the Hyūga was soft-spoken, attentive, and respectful, endearing traits to someone who had been mistreated his entire life, like the blond had.

Like all of them had, really.

In many ways, Naruto and Hinata seemed like polar opposites, and Fū's immediate inclination was that it was strange they got along so well; like, she assumed, attracted like. All the Jinchūriki, for instance.

But when she considered it further, enveloped by the calming warmth of the baths and more casual chatter of the kunoichi in the background, them containing the Bijū wasn't enough to facilitate friendship. After all, Rōshi and Han were still standoffish (to some more than others), and both Gaara and Utakata weren't so different from Hinata (albeit in very specific ways).

Somehow Naruto got along with all of them well enough, so she supposed it was possible that opposites would fill in the attributes that the other was missing, finding a sort of balance that worked for them.

So, still with a tentative smile, she told the dark-haired girl, "I'd like that."

Tenten drifted over to them and offered her own, almost…exasperated, or maybe weary?…half-grin. "I've heard a bit about you guys from Naruto…that boy can talk. Puts Lee to shame sometimes," she muttered. "He says that you're a Fūton-user?"

Fū blinked, caught off-guard by the sudden conversation. "Ah, yeah. And a sensor," she added, the description tacked on almost by force of habit. She'd gone so long with that being her defining trait that it was strange to have someone know of her without that being the reason.

The brunette's nose scrunched, as if she smelled something momentarily distasteful, and then evened out. "Sorry, bad experience with wind. If you wouldn't mind, I'd like to spar with you sometime, learn how to overcome my weakness."

Another blink, and the Taki-nin felt that same shyness that had cloaked her back when they'd saved the lives of Naruto's friends. It was so…weird…to have someone actually want to be with her, someone who owed her nothing, seemed to need her, and was appearing to extend a hand in friendship. It was part of her goal, which made the whole experience feel even more surreal, a dream she couldn't process. "Sure, whenever you want!"

"I think Shino-kun would be interested in training with you, too," Hinata piped in. "He has mentioned he is very intrigued by your, um, abilities…especially since you discovered his kikai. Kiba-kun, too…he says he still owes you one."

"I thought we were even after…" the whole fiasco saving Gaara, she didn't say. It wasn't like neither of the other girls didn't know – Hinata had helped save her, after all, and Tenten's chakra was familiar as another roaming the woods that day – but just remembering how close they came to losing one (or more) of their family left a sour taste in her mouth. She wasn't sure if any of these girls knew that Naruto was a Jinchūriki, let alone the rest of them, and how that title carried with it more danger than normal; a debt to any of them, while useful, was probably an unsafe burden.

"Kiba-kun believes a great deal in loyalty, and is very proud," the Hyūga murmured. "He doesn't talk much about the mission to retrieve Sasuke-san, but…if your actions saved both him and Akamaru, he may consider our actions to rescue Gaara-san only half-paid."

Fū was silent in the wake of Hinata's quiet explanation. She understood loyalty – once to the Hidden Waterfall (if only for lack of other options), and now to her fellow demon containers – and she understood owing someone (Utakata primarily, for his initial rescue), but she couldn't fathom being that person for someone else. It felt like she held sway over Kiba that she didn't quite deserve…or want. Friendship was supposed to be a two-way street, not an obligation.

Tenten rolled her eyes and muttered, "Boys," in a way that made the green-haired girl think she was used to how little sense the male thought process made.

"They're not so bad," Fū offered, thinking of how her every day involved working alongside Gaara and Naruto and Utakata, led by the latter and the two Iwa-nin and sometimes Jiraiya.

"They have their moments, but they're also just very annoying."

"Neji-n-nii-san isn't—"

"He's a maniac, too, just in a different way," came the brunette's dry retort. "He's been a little different ever since that mission to get Sasuke back." She shot Fū a curious look. "Do you know what happened out there? Neji doesn't talk about it much either."

"Um, well…" Fū looked between Tenten and Hinata, both of whom seemed to be watching her with eager, expectant looks; even Ino and Sakura seemed to stop their own conversation/bickering to tune in. It was weird to have so much attention focused on her, but also kind of nice to be the center of so much interest. She mentally began to shuffle back through the events of that day, editing out any sort of incriminating personal recollections she and Gaara had shared. "Sure."

She launched into a retelling of the day she officially accepted her role both as and with the Jinchūriki, stumbling through how Gaara had protected her and a stocky, brunet boy from the demonic, orange-haired Oto-nin; recalling how she'd interceded on Neji's behalf against a dark-skinned boy with too many arms; and then recounting how she'd joined forces with Kiba to kill the brothers tag-teaming him and his dog. The other girls seemed enraptured by her tale, and by the time she finished telling them how she and Kiba had managed to maneuver their way to where the rest of the team was fighting a monster who used bones as weapons, nearly an hour had passed. Tenten let out a low whistle and breathed, "Wow…"

"It sounds like you saved everyone out there," Sakura noted.

"You and Gaara," Ino mused. "Who would've thought…"

"…Thank you," Hinata said, and all the girls nodded their own gratitude.

"Oh, no, I don't think—"

"Stop that right now!" Ino rebuked sharply. "You did a really impressive thing, going to save people you didn't know and had no allegiance to, and it sounds like you risked your life multiple times. You're amazing."

Well…Fū didn't know how to respond to that.

Her silence didn't prompt any more responses, and after a long moment, Tenten stood up and said, "I think we've been in here long enough." The other girls silently agreed, filing out behind the brunette, Hinata waiting patiently at the end for Fū – sitting in contemplative quiet – to take notice and begin moving.

She dried and dressed in a bit of a daze, still processing the context that these Leaf kunoichi saw her in. Halfway through, while her mind was caught in a maze trying to align her internal perspective and the external views others seemingly had of her, Ino's voice cut through her meandering thoughts. "I didn't notice before, but your clothes don't…quite look like they fit you?"

Fū looked down, slowly registering the blonde's words, to note the worn, loose-fitting blue kimono lined with white, held together by a light grey sash. "Oh, yeah, Tsunade dug out a lot of her old stuff for me to wear since I didn't bring anything when Utakata-nii rescued me, and my normal uniform has been through a lot-ssu." The blood of friends and enemies alike stained her once-pristine white shinobi outfit with blotches of pink, red, and brown in varying shades, not to mention the beatings it (and she) had endured over the months of training with the Jinchūriki.

"Well that just won't do. Come on, we're going shopping."

"Oh, no, I don't have any money for that—"

Ino waved her concern away, throwing an arm around the Taki-nin's shoulders. "Don't worry about it, I've got you." Leaning close to the wind-user, she whispered so only Fū could hear, "You can think of it as an apology for grilling you earlier."

Put like that, it didn't seem like something she could refuse, even if she wanted to; it would be nice to get some new clothes that were just hers, not to mention trading in the last remnants of her time back in the Hidden Waterfall for something that reflected the new her. "Alright."

"Great!" She felt Ino hook her arm into the crook of her elbow and drag her deeper into Konoha, the other three girls following at a more sedate pace. To her surprise, Ino allowed their journey to be made in relative silence, the blonde humming intermittently to some unknown tune. The normality of the moment felt surreal; Fū could barely fathom that this was what regular people did in their usual lives, when they didn't imprison a Bijū that terrified others or had to deal with existential crises.

Fū didn't catch the name of the store Ino eventually steered her into, but judging by the interior, it was well-stocked and catered to shinobi.

She was positioned in front of a rack of different shinobi outfits, all created for the Hidden Leaf's ninja to express some semblance of individuality beyond the green flak jacket that was trademark of Chūnin and above. Ino's hand pushed through each one in turn, sometimes taking one out and holding it up against Fū's body before slotting it back into place. The Taki-nin silently watched, pupil-less orange eyes flicking past each outfit and wondering if it was her style. Back in the Hidden Waterfall, all her clothes had been picked in the haste of finding something that fit without any real consideration for whether she liked it – the higher-ups in her old home didn't care too much about her personal preferences – and so this seemed like the first opportunity to really try and express herself.

"You know…" Ino's voice cut through the green-haired girl's rumination, and the foreign kunoichi realized that her fingers had stopped flipping through the rack of items. For the first time since they'd met that day, she actually sounded…normal. "I know that I can come off a bit strong. I'm smart and pretty and opinionated, but I don't always think about what I say before I say it, so it can feel like I'm a bit aggressive when I talk. My teammates would definitely agree. But I also care about the people close to me, and I would like to be friends, if I haven't scared you off. And not just to get close to Utakata either, though I'd be lying if I said that wouldn't be a benefit."

She turned to grin at Fū, expression equal parts amused and rueful. The gesture felt familiar, and it took a few seconds for the Taki-nin to realize that Utakata, of all people, often wore the same expression, the little half-smile that said he agreed with you, tinged with the sadness of his (or their) past. Behind them, the Jinchūriki could hear Tenten rattling off weapons specifications to a curious Sakura, while Hinata (presumably) listened politely.

It was funny, she mused, as Ino went back to searching through clothes – waiting for an answer – how her life kept turning on its head. Before coming to Konoha, she would've done anything to be treated like anyone else in the Hidden Waterfall, to feel like she was someone who mattered to the people there as more than just an asset. Until Utakata, she'd only had the vaguest inkling as to why she was treated differently – an unknown term, Jinchūriki – and after, with the promise of people who understood, it felt more important to endear herself to her fellows by accepting the curse she'd discovered they were burdened with, even if it wasn't easy.

And now, after acknowledging her lot in life, making friends with the people who were just like her and finding a group where she was treated like the rest – demon containers, inhuman – despite being the most different of them all (the practically human one, according to Jiraiya), she finally found people who didn't know about the Bijū. They thought she was just another person, another girl, and wanted to be her friend.

Was she wrong to think that she needed to be different to be accepted? Could there be a way for her to be both Jinchūriki and human?

"Being strong-willed isn't a bad thing…" she finally managed. She thought of Utakata's perseverance, Rōshi's stubbornness, Han's indignation…Naruto's resilience. "You just need to find people who're willing and able to see past that to the other parts of you. I can do that."

Ino grinned at her, wide and genuine. Instead of offering a response, she pulled an outfit off the rack and held it out. "I think this's a good one! Try it out."

Fū stared past the other girl, orange eyes acknowledging the proffered clothes and recognizing them as a little too close to her old uniform, to the life she'd led where she wasn't allowed to make her own decisions.

When all the Jinchūriki had been treated as nothing more than pawns of their villages.

She reached past the platinum blonde for the next item on the rack, then cast a speculative eye on one of the uniforms Ino had flipped through, moving aside several items to get a better look at it. "Think we can get something else, for a friend-ssu? I'll find a way to pay you back, I swear."

Ino arched an imperial eyebrow. "Something for the boyfriend you claim to not have?"

Fū laughed in response, suddenly lighthearted in the same way Naruto's storytelling often made her feel. "Something like that, I guess."

Fū waved an enthusiastic goodbye to her new friends at the entrance to the Senju complex, cheeks almost pained from smiling too much. In her new outfit, and with the day's success in mind, it felt like another milestone in a journey that was still fairly new.

Noise from deeper within the compound drew her like a moth to flame, and she turned a corner to find Han in combat with a purple-haired woman wearing a brown trenchcoat. The other Jinchūriki were watching – Rōshi indifferently; Gaara dispassionately; Utakata from a seated position, looking scuffed up; Naruto vibrating with excitement – and Fū made her way over to Gaara, who glanced at her with his usual, flat gaze. Teal eyes trailed over her form. "You've changed."

She spread her arms out in a facsimile of a curtsy. Instead of the white apron skirt and midriff top of her old uniform, the green-haired girl wore a deep green, sleeveless, knee-length qipao dress with a collar not unlike Aburame Shino's fringing her neck. It was zipped from navel to collarbone, with one small vee cut out of the collar at her throat, and a second, inverted, larger one starting at her waist and revealing black pants. The dress was trimmed in gold, a weapon pouch strapped to her right thigh. "Whaddya think?"

"It is…" Gaara paused, appearing to consider his next words carefully; Fū wondered if he thought she looked bad and was trying to couch it in an uncharacteristically kind way, "…different. Did something happen that necessitated it, or was it a personal decision?"

"Just thought that we were overdue for a change."

The redhead nodded slowly, as if her logic made total sense to him – even if she was still working through it herself – and then asked, seemingly curious, "We?"

Fū returned his nod with a more vigorous one, passing over the bag she'd been carrying. "For you."

His chakra flickered, momentarily, in a way that suggested he was surprised, and then settled back into a different kind of calm than normal. Even his eyes seemed to relax from their rigid gaze, locking onto the tattoos on his wrists as if searching for an answer. "I see." He took the bag from her and turned to disappear into the building, presumably to change; for as open as Gaara had become with what he thought or did, he was almost as private as Han about being physically vulnerable in front of the other Jinchūriki.

Well, they all had their quirks, she supposed.

Fū watched Han and the unknown purple-haired woman continue to spar, the Leaf shinobi pulling out kunai seemingly from nowhere, twirling around the Iwa-nin and sticking knives into the joints of his armor. Snakes burst from beneath her trenchcoat and wrapped around him in a stranglehold, and steam whistled through his armor like a kettle set to boil. He seemed to grow more aggressive at the attempted binding, blitzing her with a series of blows that she evaded with a litheness Fū was used to seeing from Utakata.

It was hard to restrain the awe she felt watching two high-level shinobi spar. Most of the time, it was a mixture of the more junior Jinchūriki, with oversight provided by Rōshi or Han or sometimes Utakata (depending on who the focus of the training was on), but it was rare to have either of the older two participate in a way that allowed the younger of their group to really appreciate what they were witnessing. Now, outside the thick of battle, it was a rare opportunity to observe how two clearly skilled ninja could fight without distraction.

"Han brought her."

Gaara's droll voice cut through her focus, and Fū turned to spy her friend returning to her side, dressed in the new outfit she'd bought him via Ino. His uniform wasn't too different from her own, with a stiffer, tall collar that almost hid his mouth – even closer to how Shino looked – and colored a chocolate brown (Konoha's clothing manufacturers were apparently big on nature colors when the outfits weren't tailored to a specific person) that contrasted his naturally pale skin. Unlike her zip-up, his knee-length jacket was buckled closed over a pair of blue pants, a two-inch-thick belt wrapped twice around his waist in a stylish appeal Ino had insisted on. Loose, tan-colored shirt sleeves covered his arms up to his wrists, where they'd been rolled back to give easy access to his tattoos.

The outfit looked a little big on him, but since Fū had guessed his size, she didn't think she'd done too bad a job; plus, it gave him time to grow into it. "You look good. How's it feel?"

"Comfortable. You did this…for me?"

She smiled; it was funny – and a little sad – how easy the redhead was to surprise. "Duh! Thought maybe you'd want something for the new you."

"I am grateful. Thank you." He was flipping the garnet Rōshi had gifted him between his fingers in a dexterous series of movements that felt like a subconscious tic. Fū held out her hand palm-up, and with methodical slowness, the Suna-nin deposited the gemstone into it. The Taki-nin examined it with a critical eye, then held it away between thumb and pointer finger. Gathering an iota of chakra, she lined up her other hand, and with a quick flick, sent a small shot of wind through the end of the garnet. A tiny hole appeared, and she pulled out a few long, loose threads from her pants, twined them together, and strung them through the hole.

"You should get something sturdier," she advised, handing back the makeshift necklace, "but it should hold for the moment." Gaara let out a noise of assent, tying the proffered jewelry around his neck and subtly inspecting it. "It suits your new look."

The Suna-nin inclined his head toward the ongoing battle. "They have been at it for over 20 minutes. The longevity is impressive, especially since Han fought Utakata as a warm-up to 'even the odds', according to him."

"Wow…"

Even knowing how powerful Han was in comparison to the younger Jinchūriki, the ongoing spar gave her a little more insight into the debate she'd been having all day about her place among their group. The armored shinobi's endurance was impressive, and it was easy to see that a similar fortitude existed in Naruto, if not the rest of the demon containers; Gaara, at least, seemed to be working himself toward embracing that which made them different.

Something Fū couldn't do because of her seal.

Her life had been spent trying to ascertain where she belonged while society had been determined to label her a pariah, and even in finding a group of similar people, she'd still managed to be on the outskirts. Although she'd worked to ingratiate and better herself, her nonconformity – within society, among the Jinchūriki – seemed like a limiting factor in every direction. It was hard to deny that one of the reasons she'd been willing to train Naruto to use Wind Release ninjutsu without any obvious benefit to herself was that the blond's potential – as a Jinchūriki, as a shinobi – was greater than hers. She hadn't committed to any path, any direction, one way or the other, because she still didn't know where she belonged.

But it was possible she'd been overthinking everything – and underestimating herself – all this time. If nothing else, today had shown that her previous internal opinions were, at least in part, self-imposed. She could be a Jinchūriki, a person, a girl, a friend, strong, thoughtful, all without sacrificing any one piece of herself.

Fū was more human than the other Jinchūriki, less human than those who didn't imprison a Tailed Beast, and greater than she'd ever thought of herself. It was both humbling and motivating.

She could be better than she was, achieve heights she'd previously thought herself incapable.

It was time to prove it.

In a burst of wind, she vanished in a Body Flicker, appearing between the two sparring shinobi with zephyrs swirling around her hands to deliver a double Whirlwind Fist into Han's armored torso. The blow was enough to send him skidding backwards several paces. Fū could sense surprise in the chakra of both the Iwa-nin and the Leaf kunoichi; she couldn't see his expression, but when the steam-user's chakra returned to its previous state, and then pulsed with something akin to amusement, she imagined he was grinning beneath his mask.

Her lips quirked in challenge. "Let's go-ssu."

Chapter Text

He stared at the wall ahead, mind blank, listening for any change in status of his companion. Fū was still unconscious following their (currently inexplicable) return to the Hidden Leaf Village, and he wanted to make sure that he could facilitate her meeting with Naruto.

As he'd promised.

It was, he'd learned (and was still learning) from the blond himself, important to keep one's promises.

Movement in his periphery caught his attention, and teal eyes focused on the doorway, where Naruto walked through leading two boys with dark hair. One had his locks held up and back in a high, bushy ponytail, and the other wore a bowl-cut and a green jumpsuit. Gaara recognized both from the recent mission but couldn't recall their names.

Naruto grinned and waved at him. "Hey, Gaara, you're awake! How're you feelin'? Shikamaru and Lee were telling me that you helped out a bunch on our mission."

"…I suppose so…" he replied, brain trying to parse the rapid-fire statements his friend had thrown out. Now that Naruto had said the other boys' names, he could mentally place which one was which, and how they'd helped each other the last time he'd been conscious.

Shikamaru stepped forward, hands in his pockets, and said, "I suspect your intervention was likely unsanctioned, but I appreciate your help irrespective of that. My team had some pretty serious injuries, but nothing compared to yours, and I suspect we would've had several casualties without you and your colleague"—he gestured to the supine Fū with a jerk of his head—"so thanks."

Gaara didn't know what to say in response, but behind Shikamaru, Naruto gave him a thumbs-up and a wide grin, so he guessed something appreciative would be appropriate. "It was…the right thing to do," he settled on. The other boy arched an eyebrow, but then seemed to accept that that was probably as good a response as he'd get, and simply gave a nod.

Teal eyes flitted over to Lee, and a vague recollection flickered through his mind. "I believe…" he began slowly, pointedly looking at the green-clad boy, "that if we are expressing gratitude, I owe you mine."

"That is unnecessary—"

"I disagree," he interjected in his usual monotone. "It is important to acknowledge when someone has done something good for you, and I recall"—he brought a hand to his head, trying and failing to remember the specifics—"your presence. So…thank you."

Lee blinked, clearly surprised, and then bobbed his head. "It was no problem."

"I also believe…you are owed an apology." Both Lee's and Shikamaru's eyes went wide, and Gaara – penetrating stare still focused on the former – continued, "You were the first person to truly garner my attention during the  Chūnin Exams, and  I…did not act appropriately. I am learning that the way I was before was…damaging, to both myself and others, resulting in actions that I bear responsibility for. While I do not know the magnitude of the pain I caused you during the Chūnin Exams, I suspect it was extensive, and I…am sorry."

Lee immediately flashed him a smile and his own thumbs-up. "That was a very youthful apology, and I accept! Thank you, Gaara-san!"

Lee's attitude seemed very similar to Naruto's, and even though he had no real relationship with the dark-haired boy, Gaara felt a quiet surge of…something…drop to his stomach. It wasn't uncomfortable, and after a moment of thought, decided that it felt like…approval. Despite everything he'd done, in general and to Lee himself, it seemed like confirmation that he was making progress. He gave Lee a nod of acknowledgment, and then returned his gaze to Fū, waiting for her to wake up.

Perched at his usual place on the rooftop overlooking the courtyard, Gaara stared down at the group arrayed below, teal gaze unseeing as his mind juggled with a feeling that reminded him uncomfortably of abandonment. Since meeting Naruto, and later Fū, he'd rarely felt alone, even when he was by himself or didn't want companionship.

This strange bitterness at being left to his own devices was…different. And frustrating.

"I'm still here."

Annoyed – at Shukaku, at his companions, at himself – he Body Flickered himself down to the building entrance and stalked inside, trying to avoid the sight of Fū interacting with her new friends. In his haste, he nearly ran into Inoichi as the older man rounded a corner; the sandy blond caught himself, looking surprised, but quickly recovered to offer the redhead a small smile. "Hello, Gaara. How are you doing?"

He spoke the first thing that came to mind. "I am irritated."

"I see." He looked around as if searching for something before offering, "I can spare a few minutes if you'd like to talk about it." Gaara gave a slow nod of agreement, and Inoichi led him to their usual room, where he took a seat and then gestured for the Suna-nin to do the same. When the younger boy was settled, he prompted, "What are you irritated about?"

"My arrangement with Shukaku affords me access to abilities that are beyond what I knew before."

"Yes, you've mentioned that your control over your sand has gotten better, and that you should be able to utilize Jiton."

Another nod, this one accompanied by something between a frown and a scowl. "But Jiton is…frustrating. Rōshi was helping me to learn, but…" He didn't really know how to explain the process of the last several weeks, though he tried his best.

As Rōshi had pointed out when they'd started, he didn't know anything substantive about Jiton, he'd merely had the (apparently intense) misfortune of fighting one of Shukaku's previous Jinchūriki, an experience he liked to reiterate he wasn't keen on repeating. Having now sparred with both him and Han, Gaara understood the older man's reticence; where the Suna-nin had once considered himself undefeatable, he was now all too aware of the power others possessed, especially the other demon containers. In a real life-or-death battle, either of them would destroy him.

Because of that, he appreciated any time and knowledge Rōshi was willing to grant him. Elemental chakra manipulation was not something he had formal experience with, and trying to properly learn how to use a dual-element like Jiton while also trying to understand what Magnet Release could do was an exercise of patience. Although the Iwa-nin claimed he would never forget fighting the Ichibi's previous Jinchūriki, it had been 20 years since their conflict during the Third Shinobi World War, and what little observational knowledge he'd gathered on Jiton was both old and limited. So what he'd started with was some theoretical knowledge and an almost fugue-state recollection of controlling an enemy's various weapons and armor.

"Shukaku doesn't have any suggestions?"

Gaara gave a slow shake of his head. "From my conversations with him, the abilities of the Bijū are innate. Instinctive. They do not manipulate chakra for jutsu in the way that we do; the control is part of who they are and ill-defined compared to what we know."

Which had led to another deep dive into the Shodai's library for elaborate explanations of physics, specifically magnetic forces. Even before he'd understood what (or rather who) Shukaku really was, he'd always assumed his sand manipulation came from Mother; based on his studies, if he assumed the One-Tail's "domain" – as the demon called it – was Jiton, it suggested that he'd actively been using Magnet Release to control diamagnetic materials like sand all this time.

Why he couldn't apply that control to para- and ferromagnetic materials to the same extent was unknown. In their training, Rōshi's daggers were as pliable to him as his kidnapper's weapons – which was to say, controllable, but only for short stints and under duress – resulting in a technique that was as impractical as it was stressful. He lacked practice, he assumed, or some facet of Jiton he didn't understand and clearly needed to learn.

But without anything more to offer, Rōshi had left him to his own devices. With him and Utakata absent – likely training by themselves – Fū's cheer revitalized through her new female friendships, Naruto sporadically absent due to missions, and Han…doing whatever he was doing (this morning, he'd been seemingly asleep against a tree, kasa pulled low over his face), it was no wonder he was feeling alone. Useless.

It felt like a massive regression after months of slow and painful progress to rebuild (and surpass) his previous strength, not to mention the path of his emotional journey.

"My inability to progress with how to use Jiton and grow stronger is…disappointing. I know I am not weak," he added with an irascible edge, frustrated and glad to vent to someone, "but I feel there should be some measurable evidence of improvement considering the time I've put in recently."

Inoichi hummed in thought, giving the redhead a moment to recenter himself. "Well, I've created a few jutsu in my time, and even with the guidance of other members of my clan who were more skilled in the mind arts, it took a long time to find success. I know that it may feel like it's been a long time, but when you're trying something new, you have to be patient."

"Yes, so you've noted." Gaara's voice was dry, but devoid of sarcasm. "And I have come to appreciate the long-term changes resulting from that patience. But should there not be a difference when learning something completely new versus expanding one's knowledge base? I feel like I have made greater strides in trying to overcome my personal shortcomings than in growing my ninjutsu, which I already held proficiency in."

"Logically, that may seem true," Inoichi allowed, "but think about this: when you're starting from zero, improvement will be much more noticeable than when you're starting at 80%. So while you're correct that your strength in ninjutsu prior to learning about Jiton should provide some advantage with this next step, it also means you may make slower strides in getting better at it.

"I believe you're familiar with the Rasengan, the jutsu I've seen Naruto practicing sometimes?" Gaara gave a single nod. "My understanding is that the Yondaime Hokage, who created it, took three years to do so. Which is to say, things take time; good things, even more so."

"Three years…" the redhead repeated, and then slowly shook his head. "I am not sure we have that kind of time."

Inoichi raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

Gaara paused, considering, and then slowly said, "I do not know if I am at liberty to discuss. Or even if I fully understand the circumstances. But there is an imminent threat that we must be prepared for, and an extended timeline in which to improve is not ideal."

"…I see." There was a moment of silence in which Inoichi tried to figure out what to say, and he finally suggested, "Have you slept on it? A lot of times, solutions come to you when you least expect it, especially when you're resting."

The Suna-nin blinked at his therapist, then leveled him with a flat gaze. "I do not sleep. Bad things happen when I do, and I do not remember them."

"Yes, I recall. From our previous discussions, I believe that was a result of the Ichibi. But now that you and he have reached an accord and are no longer in a contentious relationship, there shouldn't be any reason for him to take over your body while you're sleeping, correct?" Gaara didn't immediately respond to that, and Inoichi rose, patted the redhead's shoulder, and walked towards the door. "Give it some thought, and we can discuss more during our next session."

Gaara barely noticed the older man's departure, frozen with the sudden insight. It seemed so obvious in retrospect, but just like when Fū had pointed out the redundancy of his sand gourd while he'd been creating his sealing tattoos, it just wasn't something that had occurred to him. He was so used to his lifestyle that even when the things that impacted it changed – even as he changed – there were still facets that were so ingrained to his person they remained static. And sleeping…

The things Shukaku had done using his body were just as terrible as anything he'd done while conscious, the only difference being that he hadn't been aware of them. And although he now had something to live for (beyond seeking the deaths of others), the potential for sleep had not seemed any more prescient, even with their evolved relationship.

Slowly, as if the words were stuck in his throat, he asked aloud, "Is he correct?"

"Our agreement holds," Shukaku replied. "It isn't my place to usurp either your conscious or unconscious mind."

"…Ah."

Even with his agreement with Shukaku and the demon's reassurance, the idea of purposefully succumbing to sleep when a lifetime of experience had informed him of how unwise that was seemed counterintuitive.

The redhead left in a dazed stupor and wandered to his mostly untouched bedroom, sitting down on the unused futon with mechanical movements. Slipping off his sandals, he pivoted his body to be fully on the bed and then laid back in a single, rigid motion that placed his head on the pillow. Teal eyes stared at the white ceiling with a vapidness that the Suna-nin thought – hoped – might bore him to unconsciousness.

Gaara woke the next morning feeling like he'd had both the most restful and restless sleep of his life.

Since he possessed an abnormal circadian rhythm, it hadn't occurred to him that trying to sleep in the middle of the morning might not be a successful endeavor. But a bigger part of his restlessness was more likely attributable to the constant awakenings driven by, of all things, a profound terror that his eyes shouldn't be closed.

Fear was a novel concept for the Suna-nin. He'd spent so long being the inspiration of others' fear that being afraid – and whether that was for (or of) himself or for his found-family was something he couldn't quite parse – was, in of itself, terrifying. Awakening every hour or so with the same tightness in his chest that a panic attack induced was…the worst kind of feeling. Ragged breathing had dogged his waking moments, and dampness – sweat, a beyond-rare occurrence – had forced him layer by layer out of the outfit Fū had gifted him until he was clad only in a pair of black boxers.

Worst of all, he didn't think that it had provided him with the answers Inoichi had suggested it might. There hadn't been some grand epiphany, or an obvious solution – a science-based rationale – like he might have found from reading the tomes in the Shodai's library.

Staring again at the ceiling, he took a deep breath and mentally ran through the list of advice his therapist had given him. Perhaps sleeping, like everything else he'd learned to better himself, required time and repetition.

Shukaku laughed in his mind, amused rather than cruel. "You may be overthinking this."

"This is my process."

He slowly rose and got dressed, covering the inherent vulnerability from being nearly nude. Morning felt different somehow, he mused, walking out his room and to the kitchen. He was used to a routine that included watching the sky change from black to navy to orange to bright blue as he waited for his peers to wake from their own slumbers and join him outside. Now the roles were reversed, and it left him awkward-footed, without a fleshed-out plan for how to really start the day.

No one was in the kitchen when he entered, but he rummaged through the cabinets to grab a handful of granola bars, then went to the fridge to get a bottle of water and an apple. With a voracity that surprised him, Gaara scarfed down two granola bars on his way out to the courtyard and emerged to find Fū and Naruto – apparently returned from his most recent mission – next to a blonde, brunette, and dark-haired girl, all of whom were paying rapt attention to an older Konoha-nin wearing the village's regulation shinobi uniform.

As he approached, the man's features became clearer: short-cropped dark hair that shifted from blue-black to a dull midnight depending on the light framed a blocky face and followed a square jawline to form a rough, Rōshi-like beard; a tall stature that towered over the group of Genin but still paled before Han's massive frame; a white sash with the kanji for 'fire' emblazoned on it hung at his waist. Gaara stopped moving when the man's sharp brown eyes found and seemed to scrutinize him without seeming to acknowledge his presence in any other way. There was an experience to the subtle maneuver that the Suna-nin silently acknowledged as demonstrative of the Leaf shinobi's strength, even though it paled before the looks he'd received from the likes of Jiraiya, Tsunade, and Rōshi.

He'd arrived in the middle of some discussion, and caught the older man suggest, "Perhaps a demonstration would be helpful."

"What do you have in mind, Asuma-sensei?" the blonde girl asked. Gaara tilted his head, silently appraising her. She was one of Naruto's friends/temporary teammates, of that he was sure, but he didn't recognize her from when they'd fought the Oto-nin. In fact, she bore a resemblance to Inoichi; he'd mentioned having a daughter on a couple of occasions, perhaps this was her?

The Konoha-nin – Asuma, presumably – gestured for the gathered Genin to give him some space before pointing to the brunette. "Tenten, why don't you try to use your jutsu on me?"

"Alright." The brunette stepped forward and unfurled two small scrolls holstered at her waist. "Sōshōryū!" she called, and weapons of all kinds appeared from the scrolls' depths and surged toward Asuma.

Gaara blinked, the image triggering another vague memory from a time before he'd started to care about his surroundings. In his mind, he could see the same rain of steel descending upon his sister Temari, his sibling rebuffing the assault with a powerful swing of her battle fan.

That battle seemed to replay in real-time as Asuma exhaled his own burst of air that sent the Twin Rising Dragons technique scattering every which way. "This is the most basic type of wind manipulation," he explained. "You use air as an intangible force to repel or push something. Depending on the power behind it, you could potentially force someone off their feet.

"But at the next level, Fūton is known for its ability to cut through anything. Wind is the sharpest of the five elements."

"Anything?" Fū pondered. "Even another Fūton jutsu?"

"Depending on who's using it," Asuma said. He gestured for the green-haired girl to take Tenten's spot, then continued, "You know the Daitoppa? Go ahead and try it. Make it strong."

Fū nodded, fingers twisting through seals, and then threw her hands forward with a shouted, "Fūton: Daitoppa!"

Wind rushed toward the Jōnin, who twirled a pair of trench knives in his hands, slid the weapons over his fingers like brass knuckles, and then planted himself. Chakra thrummed along the knives' edges, blue energy elongating them by over a foot, and with an X-shaped cross-slash, he sliced into the incoming Great Breakthrough.

The power behind Fū's technique dissipated in an instant, Asuma's loose waistcloth not even rustling in its wake. Asuma grinned at the awed expressions on the faces surrounding him. "Does that answer your question?"

"Yeah…not that I didn't already know," Fū murmured. She appeared thoughtful; Gaara wondered what she was thinking about. "You use weapons with your jutsu…"

"S-so did that woman we fought," added the short, dark-haired girl.

Fū nodded. "Yeah. Do they enhance your abilities?"

"I prefer to think of it as augmentation or supplementation for what's already there. Most shinobi train in one or two specific skills between ninjutsu and genjutsu. Some may go into a more specialized field, such as fūinjutsu or bukijutsu"—he nodded to Tenten—"or iryō ninjutsu, to name a few. So, in concert with the basics of taijutsu and shurikenjutsu, you create your own style that allows you to thrive…and live," he stressed. "Konoha can recover from a failed mission; loss of life cannot be so easily rectified."

There was a lengthy pause in which he allowed the Genin arrayed before him to digest the message before continuing, "Fūton ninjutsu has the potential to be widespread, and should be used carefully; you don't want to risk hitting allies, after all. When I was growing up, to develop my fighting style, I figured out a way to channel my chakra into a weapon that would limit any potential incidental damage." He held out the trench knives in explanation. "And so I diversified beyond the basics."

"Kinda like how Rōshi-oji and Utakata-nii and Han-san use their abilities to make their taijutsu better instead of just straight ninjutsu," Naruto mused. "Or like how you use Fūton, right, Fū? Just with your fists instead of a weapon."

"Yeah…but I still need something different. Jiraiya said I should do something to give me some range, but it sounds like I have to be careful learning more ranged Fūton ninjutsu. I'm better up close." She turned to Tenten and posed, "Hey, is there a weapon that I could use like how he does?"

"If I may," Asuma interjected, "if your fighting style utilizes wind to supplement your fists, a weapon like my knives probably won't do much for you. You would want something that has actual range, maybe like a kusarigama?"

"It takes a lot of practice to successfully wield something as weighty as a kusarigama," Tenten said. "Plus, if you're channeling wind chakra like Asuma-sensei, the bladed portion feels a little useless. Perhaps something like a manrikigusari or a jōhyō?"

"Can't say I'm familiar with that last one," Asuma admitted.

"It is a small metal dart attached to a long string that has been historically used to bind and ensnare enemies," Gaara stated. All eyes turned to him – it seemed only Asuma (and probably Fū with her sensing abilities) had clocked his arrival. The brunette was eyeing him speculatively, and though he couldn't decipher the expression, he felt…judged. "I read about it."

"Well, he's right," Tenten said. "I have one somewhere, hold on…" With a twitch of her fingers, the scattered weaponry from the Twin Rising Dragons technique rose into the air and returned to a pile at her feet.

Teal eyes widened at the movement even as the brunette unsealed a jōhyō from a different scroll and demonstrated it for the gathered crowd. As she moved, Gaara wondered if he'd gone to the wrong person for advice; he'd considered his problem a ninjutsu one, but perhaps it was more of a weapons issue.

In his former life, there'd never been a need to consider the so-called basics of taijutsu or shurikenjutsu or genjutsu or even ninjutsu as Asuma professed; control of his sand had been such an innate thing that he'd barely needed to learn the hand signs or chakra transformation that was so integral for other shinobi. With a thought, he could turn his sand into shuriken and send them soaring at a cavalcade of enemies, manipulating their movements for the whims of Mother; what was manmade weaponry like kunai in the face of something so malleable and effortless?

But now…the need to branch out had been hammered into him on multiple occasions, and he'd done that with…well, taijutsu at least, and fūinjutsu to some respect. He still wasn't wholly sure that he needed genjutsu or shurikenjutsu, but with the potential of Magnet Release, if using Jiton alongside non-diamagnetic materials meant combining it with a metal weapon of his own that could be easily manipulated, rather than just controlling enemy weapons, then that was what he was going to do.

He approached the brunette, cleared his throat to garner her attention, and slowly intoned, "Hello…Tenten?"

She turned to face him, appearing apprehensive – or perhaps fearful – for a moment before she collected herself, arching an eyebrow and asking, "Yes?"

There was a note of confusion in her question, and Gaara thought that he probably couldn't blame her. They'd been in the Chūnin Exams together, which meant her perspective of him was likely that of the sociopathic killer who was only interested in finding targets to slake his bloodlust. To have caught his attention in the past was nothing short of a death knell. "I wish to draw upon your expertise and learn your craft. If you would be amenable," he added, almost as an afterthought, and slowly bowed to her in a gesture of respect.

Silence greeted his request, and after several seconds, he raised his head to find the group of Genin, as well as Asuma, staring at him. He wondered if he should break the quiet, perhaps repeat his request, but Tenten finally stepped forward and said, almost curtly, "Sure. It sounds like the answer to how I can counter wind isn't something that's going to be easy to figure out."

"Overcoming adversity is never easy," Asuma placated, "but we'll find a solution that works for you."

Gaara thought she looked…skeptical, but she just offered the assembled group good luck and began to walk away. After a beat, the redhead followed, keeping several paces behind the brunette to appear non-invasive to her personal space. When Tenten finally stopped, they were on the opposite side of the courtyard, far enough away to not be disruptive to the others, but still within sight. Turning to face him, she put a hand on her hip and scrutinized him with narrowed brown eyes. The expression was familiar, if less intense than the ones Rōshi or Han (or even Utakata) had bestowed upon him. "You know," she began, "you and your teammates have been a huge pain to me and mine."

"…Ah." Though his interactions with Konoha's Genin during the Chūnin Exams felt a lifetime ago, and were practically a blur, his recent memory suggested that the girl's grievance was not unfounded. That Lee (at least) had since forgiven him probably meant little to her. "I understand you may harbor a deserved grudge toward my sister," he continued in a measured monotone. "I cannot bear responsibility for her actions. If you hold similar feelings toward me, I offer an apology. While it is no excuse, I spent much of my life in a harmful environment, and I have only recently been afforded an opportunity to grow beyond the intentions of…everyone."

Tenten looked like she wasn't quite sure how to respond; then, finally, her lips quirked. "Guess Lee wasn't wrong in his assessment of you." Wryly, in the same way he'd heard Rōshi comment in the past, she added, "I don't suppose you have any secrets on beating your sister or besting Fūton? Land of Wind and all."

He shook his head, brow furrowed in an attempt at contrition, then asked, "You do not have a Fūton affinity?"

"Never been tested. Guess I should sort that out," she muttered, seemingly more to herself than him. "Anyway, you wanted to learn about weapons? Or sealing?"

"I am familiar with fūinjutsu." He held his arms out so she could see the storage tattoos etched upon his wrists. Tenten leaned forward to scrutinize the markings, and Gaara fought the familiar urge to back away as she encroached a little too close into his personal space. She is here to help, he told himself. She is…an ally.

"That's pretty cool," she remarked, leaning back and meeting his gaze once more. "So, weapons then? What kind?"

…An excellent question. "I do not know. I have recently become aware of an ability to control metal, but it is…not fully realized."

"That seems pretty powerful. But what do you mean it's not fully realized?"

"…Perhaps a demonstration." The redhead stepped away until there was a good 50 feet of distance between them. Raising his voice above its normal monotone to carry across, he said, "Throw something at me."

He thought she might protest or question the command – Fū or Naruto certainly would – but instead she just shrugged and hurled something at him with blinding speed.

It was a strange thing to have to learn to react. His Sand Armor was famously autonomous and protective in a way that meant he didn't have to think or practice in its usage, which was also why he didn't fear Tenten's throw. But Magnet Release as ninjutsu – in the way he was trying to learn to use it – required forethought and control and intention, and what little training he'd accomplished with Rōshi over the past several weeks had built upon what he'd learned from Han about how to rely on his senses and intuition while the Ichibi had been sealed.

His arms stretched outwards, chakra gathered at his fingertips, and with purposeful thought, he reached for the projectile hurtling toward him and commanded it to stop.

A now-familiar strain, like lifting a too-heavy weight, flooded his body – or rather, left it – as the weapon came to a sudden halt in midair. Gaara let out a long breath at the loss of stamina, less than how it had felt drawing on the power against his kidnapper, but still far greater than any effort he'd expended for previous techniques. He pushed down the usual flash of irritation that accompanied his Magnet Release practice and instead eyed what appeared to be a short-handled sickle – a kama, he recognized from his readings – speculatively.

"That's a neat trick," Tenten observed, breaking into his musing. She stepped towards him and reached for the weapon, wrapping a hand around the wooden handle and examining the metal blade, seemingly for lack of anything better to do. "Seems like you know what you're doing, so what do you need from me? Specifically."

"…Advice." The single word was said with a tone that implied it was obvious. Perhaps the strain of using the magnetic chakra wasn't as apparent to others as it seemed to him. "Is there a weapon you can recommend that would…facilitate easy use of Jiton? It currently requires an uncomfortable amount of chakra."

"Well," the kunoichi mused, tossing the kama in the air and then catching it over and over again, "I'm not sure the size or type of weapon would play that big a role in how much chakra you're using, if you're saying stopping a kama took a lot out of you." She was silent for a moment, appearing contemplative, and then offered, "Have you thought about starting with a weapon in hand? Asuma-sensei was just talking about how utilizing elemental chakra can be more potent if you're still connected to it."

"I have no proficiency in weapons and would not know where to begin, so doing so would seem…performative."

"Well, let's start with the basics." She reached down and withdrew a shuriken from the weapons' pouch strapped to her thigh, proffering it to the redhead, who held out his own hand to receive the throwing star. Tenten dropped it into his palm – Gaara absently noted that she didn't touch him, which he appreciated, but also thought was probably more for her own peace of mind – allowing him to bring it to eye level and examine it curiously. He pushed a mote of magnetic chakra into the weapon and directed it to levitate; it floated inches above his palm, twirling on its axis as teal and brown eyes watched.

The first thing he noticed as the shuriken left his hand was that the strain he was used to feeling throughout his body when using Magnet Release, in the core of where his chakra sat, was nonexistent. Tenten's theory about starting with chakra already in the object rather than trying to forcibly insert it from afar seemed to be accurate. Which, he supposed, made sense; chakra was, at its heart, a combination of physical and mental energy. While that could mean many things – one's physical prowess (like Han) or exhaustion or mental state – chakra often came with its own tangible element, as natures like Doton or Suiton or even his own sand manipulation proved.

Second came the realization that manipulating the metal was now just as easy as how he used his sand. The throwing star whirred faster and faster, the whistle of its rotation causing Tenten to move behind him rather than remain in his line of sight. With a thought, he sent the shuriken rocketing forward, then stopped it after 50 feet of travel and summoned it back to his palm. "Fascinating," he murmured.

"Did that fix your problem?"

He didn't answer immediately, instead choosing to send the shuriken spinning back out into a tree, where it stuck fast. Tugging slightly with his chakra returned the projectile to him after a few seconds, the resistance of being embedded in bark barely a hindrance.

It was amazing how the simplest of suggestions could produce such impressive results.

Something close to embarrassment thrummed through his body. He felt foolish for having not thought of this before, but as someone who had grown up without touch, the need for tactile interaction didn't really occur to him as a solution. And so the inertia of the past affects the future, he groused, annoyed with himself.

But then, if he'd been using Jiton to move his sand (as he now suspected), when had he touched the granules to put them under his control? Perhaps some time in his past, though his sand had always seemed to float around him rather than be in direct contact. Or maybe it came from the fact that it cloaked his body like a second skin, and that…carried through to the rest of the sand in his gourd, or kept exchanging between the two?

A mystery for later, he supposed.

"Yes," he finally answered, "although…I am still unsure how to best utilize this ability. Are shuriken the best tool? They seem…unimpressive."

"That may be a strength," Tenten said. "People expect big and flashy, and if you attack with a larger weapon like a sword, your movements are more obvious. But shuriken are generally underestimated, and a projectile, once thrown and evaded, is not anticipated to return." She whipped out a brace of throwing stars and hurled them into the distance; before they'd gone too far, her fingers twitched, and the projectiles reversed direction to return to her. The metal wires connecting her to her weapons tingled to his magnetic chakra; another thing to explore later. "Imagine that, but controlled by chakra rather than wires, so even less detectable."

"I see…" A long moment of contemplation passed, and then the redhead said, "I appreciate your help on this. It has been quite enlightening."

"Sure thing. If you have any other questions…"

"I'll be sure to pull upon your expertise."

Learning how to disguise Magnet Release by starting with throwing shuriken – another rudimentary shinobi skill he'd never had use for – was a repetitive exercise that required a couple days of practice to properly commit to muscle memory. It was like the motions of learning taijutsu with Han all over again, albeit simpler (and less painful), and the greatest challenge came from trying to not give away the game that he could control the metal beyond the initial throw.

Subterfuge was as much a ninja art as taijutsu, ninjutsu, and genjutsu.

Rōshi had made a noise somewhere between a grunt and a hum when he'd stumbled over the younger redhead practicing, and Gaara – used to the Iwa-nin's perfunctory mannerisms, as well as his apparent skepticism for anything related to the Ichibi Jinchūriki's growing strength – had taken it as a compliment. The third-party acknowledgment of something, any sort of progress, was now a pleasant rarity that made him feel…accomplished.

Though he was still adjusting to the ability to close his eyes and not lose his mind, he still liked to see the sunrise, so many mornings found him sitting in his usual place on the Senju compound roof, levitating a shuriken and sending it zipping out and then back with careless thought. As someone who was used to solitude and quiet, Gaara was familiar with the way his brain (and eyes) could focus on nothing for long stretches of time, living with a sort of static that filled the blank space of thought, so when his fellow Jinchūriki slowly trooped into the courtyard, he barely registered them.

He finally snapped to attention when Naruto called his name, enthusiastically waving him down to join everyone but Rōshi. Gaara sealed the shuriken away and jumped down, wordlessly approaching his comrades and stopping before them with arms crossed over his chest. Without preamble, the blond pumped his fist into the air and cheered, "Alright, let's go!"

"You are far too excited about this venture," Han intoned, deep voice somewhere between annoyed and bored.

Teal eyes moved from the armored man to the rest of their quintet. "What is this venture?"

From the front of the group, Naruto turned around so he was facing them but walking backwards, hands laced together behind his head. "I convinced Asuma-sensei to give us a real fight where he could show us all the different ways he uses Fūton! He said to meet at Training Ground Thirty-Two this morning, so that's where we're goin'."

"And that's…allowed?"

"Tsunade has been lax in administering her no-wandering rule of late," Han responded.

"Speak for yourself," Utakata muttered, sounding put-out.

"Would this not be considered…uneven odds?"

Han snorted. "I'm not participating."

"I'm also more curious in observing," said Utakata.

Fū didn't respond, instead tossing the redhead a wide grin and a thumbs-up that suggested she was excited for the battle ahead. From what little he'd intuited of the Iwa-nins' personalities, Rōshi's absence struck him as less odd than Han's presence, but he supposed it was possible the armored shinobi was truly interested in spectating.

He understood that feeling; he too just liked to watch things sometimes.

It only took a few minutes to arrive at what was apparently Training Ground Thirty-Two, which happened to be another open, grassy field ringed by the Land of Fire's usual sturdy trees. Gaara thought the area was like a much larger, more boring version of the Senju compound courtyard…just with a great many more people.

He recognized Asuma from the older man's lesson a couple weeks back, as well as the blonde girl who looked like Inoichi and the two boys he'd rescued from the Sound shinobi months ago, only one of whom he knew by name – the dark-haired Shikamaru. Beside the blonde was a pink-haired girl who also seemed vaguely familiar, and then a dark-haired older woman wearing an equally dark kimono and holding a small pig. She, at least, was a more familiar figure. "There are several more people here than I would have expected," he observed.

"Hey, Ino, Sakura!" Fū waved and started to jog over to them. "What're you guys doing here?"

Ino, he thought, committing the name to memory. Most certainly Inoichi's daughter.

"Asuma-sensei thought this would be a good learning experience for our team," Ino answered.

"Tsunade-shishō said that Shizune-senpai and I should be here in case things get out of hand," Sakura added.

"She thinks of everything, huh?" Fū mused.

Asuma clapped his hands together, garnering the attention of everyone present. He moved away from Shizune and the gathered students, stepping to the center of the field and looking around at the Jinchūriki. "I believe there was a request for a spar."

It almost sounded like a question, but Gaara could sense the challenge in the Jōnin's voice; he'd carried that same timbre on enough occasions to recognize the thrill of excitement for what it was. Naruto stepped forward, and Fū Body Flickered to his side in a swirl of wind. Without really thinking about it, the redhead moved to stand beside them.

Asuma grinned at them, fingers sliding into the grips of his trench knives. "Three on one, huh? Almost makes it a fair fight."

He rushed the three of them, and both Naruto and Fū separated, leaving Gaara the target of the Leaf shinobi's attack. Sand burst from his tattoos and coalesced around the older man, but a barrier of wind around him seemed to keep the silica at bay. A sand shield sprang to life between them, but Asuma's fist struck like a bomb, wind spreading the individual granules like dandelion seeds.

Gaara saw the man's bearded face inches from his own, and then suddenly he was gone, a metal tip attached to thick string and thrumming with chakra passing before his vision. Asuma reappeared next to Fū and threatened her with the same punch, but she ducked beneath the blow and sent her own wind-encased fist at his knee. He kicked up and knocked her elbow askew, then jumped backwards to avoid the geyser of lava that burst from the earth.

Naruto came in like a maelstrom, lava covering his hands and intensity in his blue eyes. He sliced across the older man's back with a chop that seared a line of fire through his flak jacket, then tried to grab Asuma's leg when the Jōnin mule-kicked him. Asuma angled a trench knife under his armpit, and a glowing blade of chakra extended backwards toward the blond, who was forced to release him to avoid being skewered.

The Jōnin briefly returned his attention to Fū, holding his hands horizontally at his lips and expelling a stream of dusty wind with a muttered, "Fūton: Fūjin no Jutsu."

Wind swirled around the girl's fist, and she swung upwards, sending the incoming Dust Cloud Technique skyward with a powerful uppercut.

He looked momentarily impressed by the maneuver, even as a series of small fireballs came soaring at him from behind. A breeze fluttered in from Fū's direction and ignited the flames, mustering up an inferno that swallowed him whole. For a few seconds, a blazing whirlwind rotated around the Jōnin, hiding him from view, but then a pulse of chakra-enhanced wind scattered the flames into embers. Asuma wiped the sweat from his forehead with a sleeve and grinned at the assembled Genin. "You've got some hot moves, that's for sure."

Gaara had enough experience with his own mood swings – with finding a true challenge, like Lee or Sasuke – that the sudden change in atmosphere from the Jōnin suggested things were about to get serious. He summoned shuriken from his seals and sent them out with a thought; Asuma's speed made him seem to flicker among the projectiles before charging straight toward him once more, chakra blades active. Gaara pulled on his magnetic chakra and called the spinning stars back towards him, targeting the Leaf shinobi's back.

Asuma whirled on the spot and sliced cleanly through the incoming projectiles. Gaara frowned as his magnetic shuriken were disposed of, and the Jōnin offered him an almost conciliatory, "That's a neat trick."

The redhead called once more to the residual chakra in the shuriken halves, raising them from the ground and sending them towards the older man as pieces of shrapnel. Asuma's chakra flared in response, wind billowing around him and deflecting the projectiles.

I am starting to see why Tenten does not like Fūton-users.

Asuma charged once again, and Gaara prepared to Body Flicker away, but twin calls from Fū and Naruto preceded opposing streams of wind and fire converging once more on the Jōnin's position. He thought it was successful, until the Konoha-nin appeared behind him and slammed a fist into the shield of sand that sprang into existence at the last moment.

It was a hard hit – not as powerful as Han's or the Oto-nin he'd fought, but still strong enough to rattle his shield. A rain of blows followed, each one tearing apart his defense and forcing him to focus on resurrecting it before he could think of a counterattack.

Naruto came to his rescue, a whirling ball of lava held between his hands. Asuma disengaged at that, wary of the Rasengan, and Fū chased him even further away with a series of punches that sent concussive bursts of wind in his direction. The blond put a hand on Gaara's shoulder and offered him a concerned look. "You okay?"

"I will manage." Teal eyes watched the Jōnin from behind Fū's protection. "Our skills do not seem well-matched."

"Can you look for an opening, provide support while Fū and I try to get him?"

It was a strange question that only his fellow (young) Jinchūriki would ask, that they trusted him enough and thought him capable of being a shield (or distraction) rather than a spear. In a way, it was almost insulting to insinuate that he wasn't capable of being on the offensive, but it was also…novel, he supposed, to be seen as a pillar crucial to his team rather than a weapon to be pointed and loosed.

No one in Suna certainly saw him that way.

He gave a nod and mused on what the best course of action would be as his teammates two-manned the Jōnin. Though he'd improved the finesse of his sand manipulation over time, Naruto and Fū's perpetual movements fighting Asuma made even those improvements difficult to implement in a way that might be useful without potentially endangering them, not unlike what Asuma had said weeks before about Fūton. The Konoha-nin used wind to such a degree that getting close without a direct counter – either a sharper wind, like Fū, or fire, like Naruto – seemed unlikely, and his physical prowess was augmented by his trench knives.

Gaara considered the weapons speculatively. For someone who had never been hurt by conventional metal – couldn't, really, thanks to his automatic defense, although his father's gold was a noted (albeit unconventional) outlier – and never learned to wield it (until now), he'd developed a growing appreciation for shuriken- and bukijutsu over the last several weeks. And Asuma seemed incredibly proficient with wielding them.

This is unideal, but… He reached out to where the three shinobi were fighting and summoned chakra to his palm, focusing on the Leaf shinobi's hands. Come, he beckoned, as if they were pets, and as a wave of exertion washed over him, the trench knives jumped from Asuma's hands and flew across the battlefield.

The sudden motion appeared to throw the bearded man off-balance, and Naruto's lava-covered fist slammed into his cheek at the same time Fū slashed a wind-enhanced line across his lower leg. Asuma staggered under the double blow, but with the reflexes of a Jōnin, substituted himself with a distant rock. Blazing through seals, he called out, "Katon: Haisekishō!" and exhaled a thick cloud of smoke that spread out and engulfed the two Jinchūriki.

Gaara heard his friends choking on the Ash Pile Burning technique and summoned a deluge of sand from his tattoos, sending it toward where Asuma was now alone and unprotected. "Ryūsa Bakuryū—"

"Naruto, get out! Fūton: Hirōkaze!"

The smokescreen combusted.

Fū's Flying Locust Wind activated, spinning the conflagration into a towering vortex.

Naruto went flying from the flaming tornado, looking like he'd been propelled out by force.

Asuma clapped his hands together into the sign of the snake and called out, "Fūton: Suiran Reppū."

Gaara, focused on directing the Ryūsa Bakuryū, was startled when his Shield of Sand activated automatically, intercepting the glowing trench knife suddenly quivering inches from his head. The Quicksand Waterfall Flow technique lost cohesion, and the Suna-nin jerked to the side as wind chakra extended the blade through his defenses. It sliced a clean line across his cheek that forced the Ichibi Jinchūriki to move away, one hand cupping the wound. Blood trickled out the cut and down his fingers, and Gaara stared at it, mesmerized but still…functional.

He couldn't say that the stinging pain emanating from his face was pleasant by any stretch of the imagination, or that the sight of his own blood made him feel great, but this was a far cry from how he'd handled similar, albeit greater, situations during and after the Chūnin Exams. This…normality…of the shinobi life was now manageable.

"Suiton: Kanketsusen no Jutsu!"

Water erupted from the ground and began to rain down, droplets dissolving against the flaming tornado that was still raging. Before it could get too wet, Gaara sent his scattered sand out to smother the inferno. Asuma took advantage of their distraction, exhaling another Dust Cloud Technique in Naruto's direction; the blond was swept away in the zephyr, and when it dissipated, only a puddle remained.

"Mizu Bunshin that quickly?" Asuma noted. "Pretty good." He glanced around, and instead of waiting for an apparent counterattack, performed more seals and turned to Gaara. "Fūton: Shinkū Taigyoku!"

The redhead held out a hand and muttered, "Sabakuha," sand bursting from his tattoo to form a protective wall. The Vacuum Great Sphere slammed into and through the Desert Wave, picking him up and carrying him several dozen yards away. Only his training with the other Jinchūriki gave him the insight of how to right himself and land with a semblance of grace.

"Fūton: Kōha Reppūken!"

An impressive horizontal tornado tore through the spot Asuma was standing; then, the Hardliner Gale Fist bulged slightly, and Gaara could see the bearded man standing in the eye of the typhoon, palms flat against each other and stretched forward to divide the technique around him. Asuma then appeared to suddenly stumble forward, and as the winds died down, Gaara could make out Fū's jōhyō wrapped around the older man's wrists. She pulled again, but Asuma straightened to regain his balance before jerking his arms to try and reel her toward him.

Succumbing to his greater strength, Fū lost her balance, but as the Jōnin stepped forward to take advantage, earthen hands grabbed his ankles and kept him restrained. He glanced down, and in the moment of distraction, Naruto popped out of the ground and slammed his fist into the man's jaw. Asuma staggered backwards as the Grasping Hands Technique dissolved, allowing the blond to plant his feet, withdraw a kunai, and drive it into his opponent's side.

Asuma coughed up blood and stumbled back, grinning despite his injuries. Off to the side, there was a concerned call of the teacher's name, but the older man waved it off and offered the Jinchūriki trio a speculative look. "That's a clean hit," he admitted. "I guess we should put a time limit on this fight before things go too far."

He blazed through seals and summoned enough wind to buffet Naruto and Fū, forcing the two Jinchūriki to bow their heads and hunker down or risk getting blown away. From afar, Gaara saw the advantage Asuma created for himself and immediately engulfed his two friends in spheres of sand that shot out spikes when the Jōnin got too close. Asuma's gaze immediately fell on him, a predator seeking easy prey, and in preparation for the man's assault, the Suna-nin unsealed a dozen shuriken and set them to floating around him.

It was a game of attrition now, and of the three of them, Gaara was the best suited for that kind of strategy. Naruto and Fū were both, in their own way, frontline fighters, and while they had defensive maneuvers, the Suna-nin's abilities truly were made to be a shield. There was a profound irony in that, given how he'd been used by the Hidden Sand Village and how he'd seen himself for many years, but he now had a deep appreciation for usurping people's (previous) expectations of him.

Asuma disappeared with a Body Flicker, and Gaara set the throwing stars to whirring around him in irregular patterns, the sand serving as his armor shifting in preparation for attack. Though the movements of his projectiles were random, much of his focus was set to cover his rear, where he most expected the Jōnin to reappear.

It came as a surprise, then, when he showed up on the boy's right, picking up his fallen trench knife and dispersing the gathered shuriken with a burst of wind generated from his Shunshin. He stabbed at the redhead, and the Genin instinctively willed his magnetic chakra into the blade, immediately halting its progress. Sweat began to gather on his forehead, and he could see the Konoha-nin's furrowed brow as he fought against the power of Jiton.

Gaara made sure to stay out of the immediate path of the weapon's tip, unwilling to fall prey to the older man's wind blade. With his greater reach, Asuma chambered a kick at the boy's knee, but the Suna-nin's sand jumped into action, wrapping itself around the man's ankle and shackling it to his other leg in an attempt to unbalance him. Before he could think to crush the limb, the Jōnin grunted and then growled, "Fūton: Ichigekishin!"

The One Body Blow blasted wind from his entire body, dispersing Gaara's sand and throwing the boy off-balance. Concentration broken, he lost control over the trench knife, but quickly recalled his shuriken, sending them flying at the bearded man. While Asuma dealt with the projectiles, Gaara wrapped sand around himself and muttered, "Suna Shigure," sending globules of sand at his adversary.

One sphere struck the man's back, and before he could be overwhelmed from another bidirectional assault, he substituted himself with a broken tree branch. Gaara let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, looking around for where the Jōnin could've disappeared. There wasn't too much cover in the field, so he turned in the nearest direction where trees were present. Hmm…

Then, Naruto's and Fū's voices echoed in chorus: "Fūton: Renkūdan!"

A compressed sphere of wind flew past the redhead, the surrounding zephyrs requiring him to reinforce his balance with sand. The Drilling Air Bullet entered the forested area and then exploded, sending cutting breezes outward that crushed the trees to matchsticks. In his mind, Shukaku let out an amused cackle. "I know I should be offended by the theft of my jutsu, but I'm actually kind of impressed at the tenacity of these humans."

"I have read that mimicry is the greatest form of flattery," Gaara murmured in response.

"Hahaha! Fair enough."

Asuma strolled out of the wreckage, looking only slightly worse for wear, and called out, "I think we'll call it there." Sakura bustled toward him with Shizune and then Ino a few steps behind, and with the older woman's guidance, she placed hands covered in a glowing green aura on his injuries. Naruto and Fū approached as well, and Gaara followed their lead, positioning himself far enough behind the two of them to be unobtrusive, but close enough to hear what anyone would say. Asuma scrutinized them with a speculative expression. "You three are only Genin?"

Naruto nodded and gave a cheerful, "Yep!" Fū made a noncommittal gesture; Gaara didn't offer any response.

"I'm impressed," Asuma said. "You all have a level of skill with nature chakra that many beginner Chūnin haven't grasped, and especially not in more than one element. That's not even touching on your taijutsu or bukijutsu." He turned his head to Shikamaru and the second boy, who were still sitting on the sidelines, and then shot a pointed look at Ino. "I hope you all paid close attention to that fight. There was plenty to be learned from the teamwork that was on display as well."

It was hard to tell from the distance, but it looked like Shikamaru's brow furrowed. After a long moment, he gave a curt nod, and nearer to them, Ino muttered, "I can't believe we're at the point where we should be looking to Naruto as an example."

Naruto let out a noise of protest, and Fū nudged Ino and then shook her head, eliciting a quiet apology from the platinum blonde. Mollified, the Kyūbi Jinchūriki turned his attention back to Asuma and asked, "Hey, Asuma-sensei, did we push you to your limit? Is that why you ended the fight?"

The Jōnin hummed, lips quirking with…bemusement? "Well, you definitely pushed me further than I was expecting. I didn't think I would have to stretch so far into my arsenal. And I stopped the fight because I didn't want to risk things getting out of hand"—Gaara thought the man's eyes flickered to him for a moment, which seemed paradoxically fair and unfair at the same time—"which seemed to be the direction it was heading."

Sakura took a step back, swiped a hand across her forehead, and said, "Alright, Asuma-sensei, I think you're good to go. How do you feel?"

"Good as new, thank you, Sakura."

She seemed pleased by the simple praise, which Gaara found relatable. Every new journey required starting somewhere, as he had now learned several times, and the thrill that came with success was accompanied by a rush of endorphins that the redhead quietly sought, almost as a replacement to the (abating) bloodlust that had spurred him previously.

This was…empathy, he thought, the connection to someone else because of their shared experiences. Even with the other Jinchūriki, empathy was a fairly foreign emotion; there was some similarity in how they'd grown up, and Gaara appreciated those connections, but he wasn't sure it helped him engage with them on an emotional level, at least not fully. He trusted Utakata, was grateful to (and even envied) Han and Rōshi, and appreciated Fū and Naruto, but none of that really furthered his understanding of the circumstances under which they experienced certain feelings. Even months of therapy with Inoichi couldn't teach him how to relate to others, and no amount of reading tomes on philosophy, psychology, or history made empathy any more accessible. It was a feeling he generally considered beyond him.

Yet here he was, having a breakthrough when he wasn't even trying.

But then again, that was basically how he'd started to develop Magnet Release, wasn't it? Tenten had given him a simple idea to run with, after his own had failed, and he'd grown to silently appreciate the brunette's enthusiasm for weaponry. And now, after trying to use his new techniques to take down Asuma, he also understood her frustration with wind-users.

Hm… Perhaps he was better at empathy than he gave himself credit for. It would require further evaluation, that was for sure.

Asuma appeared to be giving Naruto and Fū pointers on Fūton, while Shizune was in discussion with Sakura. The remaining trio of Genin who had watched had gathered around their teacher and were paying close attention to the Jōnin's dialogue, leaving Gaara to feel isolated once more.

"Hey."

Gaara tilted his head to spy Utakata approaching, Han plodding along behind him. It was the former's voice which had drawn his attention, and the Kiri-nin's expression carried its normal congeniality. "You did well. It's clear you've made some pretty impressive strides with your jutsu."

Han's arms were crossed over his chest, and Gaara saw him give the barest of nods. He felt that same rare swoop of comfort at the pair's praise. "…Thank you," he offered slowly, and Utakata's grin widened a little.

A weight fell on his shoulders, and he could see Naruto and Fū hanging off him in his periphery, both with big smiles. Their happiness seemed to emanate to the rest of the group, and Gaara felt his own lips twitch upward.

Things are good.

"So this is Kumo, eh?"

"No. Do you see any sort of infrastructure indicative of a major village like Kumogakure? We're in the middle of nowhere." The scoff of the man's baritone was filled with disdain. "Idiot."

"Hey, shut up!"

"You are very loud," intoned a third voice dispassionately.

"Tch, who's gonna hear us out here in the fuckin' sticks?"

"Kinda feels like where we picked you up, eh, Hidan?"

"Fuck off, fish face!" Hidan shouted, leveling a blood-red scythe with three blades in the direction of his fourth companion. In response, Hoshigaki Kisame placed a hand on the hilt of the bandaged sword strapped to his back, flashing the shorter, silver-haired man a dangerous, sharp-toothed grin.

Off to the side, pupil-less green eyes enveloped in red sclera turned to the stone-faced third member of their group. "I'm willing to leave them behind if you are."

Uchiha Itachi's emotionless gaze flickered to Kakuzu for a moment before returning to watch their more animated companions. "We have our assignments. Come, Kisame, this is where we part ways."

Kakuzu watched as Kisame backed down and followed Itachi as they went north, sourly side-eyeing Hidan as the shorter man shouted obscenities at their companions' backs. Though there was no love lost for the deceased Kontsuchi, the former Iwa-nin had at least been tolerable. And competent. Devoted to a cause.

The scythe-wielding lunatic slotted as his current partner was frustration personified, but after losing a spate of teammates – in a series of incidents that may or may not have been his fault – Pein hadn't given him much choice in the matter.

As much as he hated being subordinate, Akatsuki had been profitable to a degree he was leery to disassociate with. And, if he was honest, he enjoyed the chaos that resulted from the missions they were hired for; the villages as they stood deserved whatever retribution their organization wrought.

Not to mention that he didn't think anyone would be allowed to leave Akatsuki without dire threat to their life. Orochimaru was evidence enough of that, even if he'd escaped, albeit at great personal cost. And he wasn't particularly eager to fight Pein again anytime soon.

The former Taki-nin let out a muted, long-suffering sigh; his personal feelings aside, someone in their team needed to keep them on track, and it definitely wouldn't be Hidan. "We should begin as well."

Hidan scoffed but shouldered his weapon anyway. "Don't think you're the boss of me, Kakuzu! Now…who're we lookin' for again?"

"The Nibi Jinchūriki. She's a shinobi of Kumo—"

"Ah ha! So we do have to go to Kumo!"

"The Jinchūriki are universally reviled; I have doubts she will be present within the village proper." He made sure his annoyance at being interrupted leaked into the holier-than-thou response to the silver-haired man. "I would also prefer to not skulk through Kumogakure if at all possible. We do not wish to draw undue attention to ourselves, and I am not confident you can manage that."

"Hey, fuck you! Unlike you, I'm not afraid of any of these godless heathens. Besides, we're not allowed to kill this bitch, right? That means anyone else we find is fair game; Jashin-sama won't forgive me if I get into a battle and don't make some sort of offering."

"I do not care."

"Well I don't care about you or any of this other bullshit, but here we are!"

Kakuzu began to walk east, using the black threads stitched throughout his body to detach his arm and trip Hidan as the shorter man rushed to catch up. The scythe-wielder scrambled to his feet and began hurling curses at the Waterfall nukenin, who fell into his own head to ignore the screaming of his partner, letting out another exasperated sigh.

This will be a long mission.

Chapter Text

"So…" Dark-skinned fingers the size of sausages drummed against the chair arm, voice rumbling like thunder. "Bī tells me you've completed your training."

She kept her head down, bowed in deference to the man seated before her, knelt with her left fist on the floor. "Yes Raikage-sama."

"Good." She heard his chair scrape across the blue tile, the heavy thump of footfalls growing louder with his approach. "This has been a long time coming. Although the Third Shinobi World War has ended, we can't be too careful."

He fell silent, and she wondered if he was thinking about how close they'd come to losing Killer B during the war. The older Jinchūriki had regaled her with many, many, many stories over their long 16 months together on the Island Turtle, and their confrontation with the Yellow Flash during the war was not an uncommon one, even if she suspected her senior of embellishing the tale.

That a fully trained Jinchūriki could almost be defeated by a single Jōnin, as talented as the Konoha-nin seemed, was…mindboggling.

"Despite his idiosyncrasies, Bī has an eye for talent." A heavy hand fell on her head of pale blonde hair and rested there for a long moment. "Rise, Nii Yugito, and serve Kumogakure with your best."

Naruto spun his chakra into a sphere within his right palm, his left hand held over the forming ball as it turned a mixture of red, orange, and yellow, the temperature becoming blistering even as his hands remained only pleasantly warm. The neat thing about possessing an affinity for Fire Release – or, he supposed, Lava Release – was a resistance to heat and flames (so long as he was working with it, he suspected).

Not that that helped him resolve the issue of why he couldn't use the Rasengan in the same way Jiraiya had shown him.

He pulled his left hand away, and the orb appeared stable for a second or two before it flattened, spinning out of shape and splattering magma on the ground. "Damn it." Heaving a sigh of frustration, he glanced around the courtyard, trying to draw inspiration from his fellow Jinchūriki.

Han and Utakata were over by the pond, shrouded in a thin haze that showed no signs of dissipating, even in the growing sunlight of March; likely a jutsu controlled by the Iwa-nin then, since Utakata's Hiding in Mist Technique was opaquer. Nearer to the blond, Fū was twirling the jōhyō around her body with impressive skill for someone who'd only recently picked it up, the metal dart whirring through the air and shooting out to stab at an imaginary opponent. Gaara was standing nearly equidistant from both him and the Taki-nin, a stockpile of weapons scattered about his feet even as a cluster of shuriken floated in the air around him. As the blond watched, his friend levitated a bladed weapon to eye level and manipulated its position in midair, almost as if he was testing its weight without actually touching it. "Hey, Gaara," he called, drawing the Suna-nin's attention. "You're smart, can you come take a look at this?"

The redhead wandered over, the shuriken still rotating around him, albeit slowly, as if he was being cautious with the weapons while still practicing control. It was kind of impressive, watching him pay almost no attention to the projectiles while continuing to manipulate them, especially as his teal eyes affixed on the blond. Nowadays, Naruto was so used to the intensity of Gaara's stare that it was actually kind of comforting to have his attention in the open rather than feeling that he was being stalked by a predator. "What are we looking at?" Naruto summoned chakra to his hand once more, spinning it into a sphere of magma with support from his other hand. "Ah, the Rasengan. And what is the problem?"

"It won't…stabilize?" Naruto tried, removing his supporting hand and keeping the technique away from his friend as it spun out once more. "I can't figure out how to hold its shape with just one hand."

"Hmm…" Gaara scrutinized the blond's hands, analyzing the space where the Rasengan had been. "Perhaps it is the nature of Yōton itself," he theorized. "Some elements are more volatile than others. Have you tried it with a different element? Perhaps one to which you are more attuned."

Naruto considered his friend's hypothesis. It was true that, when he'd started going through the motions to learn the Rasengan, he'd started with utilizing the liquid already present within the balloon, a basic Water Release manipulation. And as he'd progressed with the technique, the basis of the chakra he'd automatically leaned towards had been the strongest one he'd learned – Lava Release.

(It was telling that the strongest element he knew was also the chakra nature of Rōshi, arguably the strongest of the gathered Jinchūriki.)

He supposed the red-haired Genin could have a point though. Yōton was strong, but it was also tricky to work with, and using it as the basis of the Rasengan might explain some of his problems. If that was the case, the follow-up question then became: what element should he use instead?

"How do I know my, uh, attunement?"

Gaara dug into the pocket of his tan, knee-length jacket and withdrew a sheet of paper that had what appeared to be nonsense scribbled all over it. The only symbols he recognized were the ones depicting the five primary chakra natures: fire, water, wind, earth, and lightning. More of his friend's growing sealing expertise, he assumed, before asking, "What's that?"

"I created a seal to determine one's chakra affinity," Gaara stated. "I had thought that learning what constituted Jiton might help me with my training." He frowned, channeling chakra into the paper and making sure the Konoha-nin could see that the kanji for both wind and earth were glowing blue. "I assumed Raiton was a component, but that turned out to be untrue. The world is full of surprises."

The elements stopped glowing, and Naruto interpreted his friend's proffered hand as a gesture to take the paper. He obliged, and after shooting a questioning look at the Suna-nin, pushed chakra into it.

Wind lit up first, followed almost immediately by water, earth, fire, and then a momentary delay before lightning completed the set. Naruto took a breath and exhaled an unsure, "Ahhh…huh."

"Considering your repertoire of jutsu, I suppose this should have been expected. However, based on the observed progression, it appears that Fūton may be your primary affinity."

"I've had more practice with Suiton, Katon, and Doton though. And Suiton's kinda…" Naruto made a face, as if to suggest how unimpressive a swirling ball of water sitting in the palm of his hand was compared to molten liquid. It was hard to imagine the damage a Suiton: Rasengan could do when he was already familiar with both the Drizzle technique – which wasn't too dissimilar, albeit sans rotation – and an actual, mostly formed Yōton: Rasengan.

Gaara nodded in agreement, then offered in his measured monotone, "I understand, but it may be the needed next step to understand how to create the Rasengan rather than being considered the final product. It could give you the answer you're seeking."

For lack of any better answer, and because he knew Gaara was smarter at this kind of thing than him, Naruto shrugged and decided to give it a try. Holding out his hands to create a rough cage, he summoned chakra to the bottom palm and focused on converting the swirling mass into cooling water rather than burning lava. Liquid churned from a funnel to a sphere within his grasp, and Naruto had a recollection of how it had felt to burst the water balloon during the first phase of Rasengan training, fluid roiling for an outlet to break its confinement.

With methodical care, he removed his left hand from the top of the sphere until he held the orb only with his right hand, water droplets spinning off. Sweat began to drip from his brow from the effort of keeping the technique stable, but it continued to keep its shape, swirling in his palm. He had to hand it to Gaara – water was easier to control than lava.

"So yeh finally got it ter be blue, eh?"

Naruto almost jumped out of his skin; instead, the technique briefly flattened into a miniature whirlpool before he regained control and it rounded once again. "Rōshi-oji! Where'd you come from?!"

The older redhead shrugged. "'Round. Still don' look quite right…"

"When Jiraiya used it, it looked more like pure chakra than water," Fū said, joining the group and peering speculatively at the orb.

"Yeah, I think you're right…" Naruto agreed.

"Yeh can always test it ter see if it's got th' same juice," Rōshi suggested.

"When we sparred with Jiraiya-sensei, he hit Utakata with the Rasengan."

"Good call, Gaara," Fū chirped. "Hey, Utakata-nii, come over here!"

The Kiri-nin wandered out of the mist several seconds after her summons, coming to stand by the gathering and politely inquiring, "Yes?"

"Please stand there while Naruto hits you in the stomach with the Rasengan," Gaara intoned.

Utakata spluttered incoherently. "S-sorry?"

Rōshi's lips twitched, and Fū covered her mouth with a hand in an attempt to disguise her snort. Gaara continued as if he hadn't just thrown the brunet to the wolves. "You are the only one who has experienced the Rasengan firsthand," he stated. "You should be able to tell if this version has a similar impact."

"That's—!"

"Probably not the best idea."

All eyes turned to where the new voice came from, finding a man of average build with gravity-defying silver hair swept carelessly to the left walking towards them with hands in the pockets of his dark blue pants. He seemed unremarkable from any of the other Leaf Jōnin they'd seen, except for the way his hitae-ate was slanted down over his left eye and his dark blue shirt melded seamlessly with a mask that covered his nose, mouth, and cheekbones, leaving his laconic right eye as the only visible feature of his face. Beside him was Tsunade, expression neutral but teetering towards annoyed. "The Rasengan should not be used lightly, especially against an ally," he advised, tone casual.

At the back of their group, Utakata breathed a sigh of relief that went unnoticed by everyone except Fū. She gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder as Gaara replied, "It seemed the most prudent way to test the jutsu. Tsunade or Shizune are capable to healing any damage that might have resulted."

"I have responsibilities beyond being your emergency healer," Tsunade growled.

"Or we can do a side-by-side comparison," offered the Konoha-nin, stepping next to Naruto and holding out his own hand palm up. Within moments, the whir of moving chakra sounded out, the glowing blue orb of the Rasengan sitting neatly in the man's palm.

"Kakashi-sensei…" Naruto breathed, "you know the Rasengan?"

"Kakashi?" Rōshi repeated, gravelly voice suspicious. "Ahh…yer Sharingan no Kakashi, ain'tcha?"

"Hm?"

"This guy he knows?" Utakata muttered, sounding exasperated.

"Aye, after th' Yondaime's student was killed an' he did a murder spree, ev'rybody learnt ter avoid th' other two," he replied in answer to the Kiri-nin's disbelief. "Didn' know he passed down th' Rasengan, though…"

"Something like that," Kakashi replied, visible eye closed in an expression that suggested he was playing along with the older man's assumption. When his dark eye reopened, it scanned the assembled Jinchūriki with a keen gaze. "I would expect nothing less from the infamous Yōton no Rōshi. Sabaku no Gaara…Utakata of Kiri…what an interesting assortment of friends you have, Naruto."

"They're all good people," he asserted, almost defensively, the Rasengan in his hand splashing to the ground. To the rest of the group, he explained, "Kakashi-sensei found Neji and I after we rescued Sasuke. He taught Sasuke and Sakura, and has led a couple of our missions." Returning his attention to the silver-haired man, Naruto asked, "But you were my dad's student? How come you never said anything? And why are our jutsu are so different?"

"Well," Kakashi began, "the Rasengan was created by Minato-sensei to be the pinnacle of shape manipulation. It uses chakra moving in every direction, but constrained to a condensed shape, to inflict maximum damage on a single opponent."

"Uh-huh…and, uh…"

"You're using nature chakra to create your Rasengan," Kakashi noted, letting his own technique dissipate. "Suiton, in this case. It's not a bad thing, it's just inherently counterintuitive to what the jutsu is intended to do. Depending on what you're trying to accomplish, nature and shape transformations can be difficult to combine, as the nature of an element often has its own shape it wants to follow.

"There were attempts to do so, of course. Minato-sensei tried, though he never figured it out. As for myself…" Chakra collected once more in his palm, but this time, it turned a brilliant blue-white and engulfed his entire hand, shooting off jagged streaks of electricity amidst the high-pitched chirping of birds. The assembled Jinchūriki stepped away from Kakashi to avoid being struck by any wayward bolts, Naruto's eyes wide with recognition. "The Chidori was the result of me trying to combine the Rasengan with my Raiton nature." Light and sound faded away, and he continued, "It's effective in its own right, of course, but certainly not the intended result. As you can see, Raiton kind of has a mind of its own. I suspect your Suiton version might have its own merits, but it won't match the original."

Naruto was frowning, trying to remember if Jiraiya had told him anything of the sort when he'd started learning the Rasengan. The Sannin's instructions had simply been to pop the balloons he'd been given – filled with water and air in turn – and then take those lessons and not burst the final one, and while he'd eventually accomplished that, it hadn't been a one-handed feat. He wondered if that was because he'd been using nature-transformed rather than shape-transformed chakra, which would then change how the technique came into existence.

Utakata's voice interrupted his train of thought. "Not that I…fully understand what, exactly, is being discussed, but pure shape manipulation on the level you're discussing may not be possible for, uh, someone like Naruto."

"A Jinchūriki you mean." The Kiri-nin's golden gaze flickered over to Fū to catch the green-haired girl's quick wince before his pinched expression returned to the Leaf Jōnin. Based on the way his visible eye was crinkled, Kakashi appeared to be smiling at him. "Rōshi is infamous, and I'm well-aware of both Naruto's and Gaara's…status, if you will. I extrapolated for you two, but I see my guess was on the mark, hm? Either way, I'm curious what makes you say that."

Utakata swallowed his surprise, then carefully replied, "…The Bijū…they're constructs of pure chakra. In…most instances, after the sealing is completed, the chakra network of the host becomes inextricably linked to that of the Bijū. As a result, their chakras can be one and the same, so most jutsu manipulation comes out primarily as nature transformation."

Gaara let out a low 'ah', which drew Fū's gaze for a moment. Kakashi cupped his chin and released his own hum. "Interesting…"

"So does that mean I'll never be able to learn the Rasengan the right way?"

Kakashi's visible eye settled on Naruto. "Well, never say never. It just may prove to be more difficult than even the normal training process."

The blond gave it a moment of thought and then asked, "Well, what if I just…use the elemental versions?"

"Versions? As in, more than one?"

Naruto nodded vigorously, a sharp grin alighting his features. "I know how to use four elements, plus Yōton," he said with no small hint of pride, "and"—he gazed around at the other Jinchūriki, blue eyes lingering speculatively on first Utakata, then the haze in the distance that shrouded Han, and finally Gaara—"maybe others."

"And you're only a Genin?" Kakashi asked, the tilt of his head seemingly angled just slightly towards Tsunade. Of the gathered demon containers, only Rōshi clocked the gesture, the three youngest too focused on the Konoha-nin's words and Utakata deep in thought, chin cupped in his hand. "Fascinating… Well, Chidori and its successor, Raikiri, have served me well despite being so-called imperfect versions of the Rasengan, so I don't see why different elements wouldn't also prove effective. Although I have to say that the Suiton version you were trying seems to lack the power necessary to make it…threatening."

"Well, Suiton is an inherently less destructive element on its own than Raiton or even Katon and Fūton," Utakata pointed out, sounding chuffed.

Gaara nodded. "Yes, that was my point earlier. But with this new information about the intended purpose behind the Rasengan's creation and its incompatibility with elemental chakra inherent to the Jinchūriki, perhaps revisiting your original version should be attempted."

The last portion was directed to Naruto, who startled briefly and then nodded eagerly. "Hey, yeah, that's a good idea." Holding out his palm once more, but without the cage of his other palm to restrain it, he warned his friends, "Watch out."

Gaara, Fū, and Kakashi all took steps back as chakra swirled to life in the blond's right hand, red-yellow magma forming the same spherical shape as before. Once it was slightly larger than an orange, the molten liquid began to spin out, tiny globules flecking off the overall orb in the same way the watery version had before. Rōshi – unafraid of the heat or potential danger Yōton posed – leaned over and muttered, "Stop tryin' ter hol' th' shape."

"Right, right, force of habit. But maybe…it still needs something to keep it from spilling out, right?" Instead of trying to hold the entire orb together, with the elemental chakra rotating around in a tightly controlled sphere, he focused on just a central kernel to build the Rasengan around.

To his surprise, the technique retained most of its shape, though it stopped spinning, instead sitting in his hand in a way that tickled the vaguest of memories. Bubbles formed on the surface of the altered Rasengan, each one bursting and then being replaced by another in turn. "Like risin' magma in an active volcano," Rōshi murmured, sounding intrigued.

Naruto shot a glance at the redhead, unused to this more mellow side of him. "What are you thinkin', Rōshi-oji?"

"Yeh gotta test it." With a thought, a clone of the redhead rose from the earth, the original stepping away so that the blond had room to work.

Naruto measured himself up against the Earth Clone, an almost nostalgic feeling overcoming him as he faced off with the doppelganger's emotionless visage. At his back, the gathered crowd moved further away; off to the right, Han finally joined the rest of them, standing near Rōshi, who was watching with crossed arms and a critical eye. With little fanfare, he took two steps towards the clone and thrust his arm forward, burying the jutsu into fake-Rōshi's stomach. "Yōton: Rasengan!"

Lava ate through the clone's earthen exterior as though it wasn't there, and from the corner of his eye, Naruto could see Rōshi clasp his hands together in the sign of the Snake, probably to prevent the body from collapsing as he burned through its fake organs. Works just like it did on that guy that took Gaara—

BOOM!

Naruto jumped at the thunderous noise as lava exploded out the Earth Clone's back like a volcano's caldera. The copy began to fracture, dirt losing cohesion, and magma seeped through the forming cracks until it collapsed into a viscous pile of soil and lava at his feet.

His arm was still extended in attack, the warmth of the Rasengan fading from his fingers. Features painted with shock, Naruto looked around to see mirrored expressions on Fū, Utakata, and (to a lesser extent) even Gaara; both Kakashi and Tsunade seemed mostly nonplussed, though their eyes might have been wider than normal. Rōshi's rusty chuckle drew his attention back to the older redhead. "An' there's th' eruption." He laughed louder, a rare moment of genuine amusement. "Gotta hand it ter th' Yondaime, he sure knows how ter make a jutsu."

"To be fair, he may only deserve half the credit in this particular instance," Kakashi said, sounding bemused himself. "Combining it with Yōton…doubtful Sensei ever had that in mind."

"So…I'm sorry," Utakata piped in, the slightest quiver in his timbre, "are we saying that Naruto can create nine different versions of the Rasengan, all similar in effect to that?"

Rōshi shrugged. "If yeh assume one fer each Bijū, an' one fer each nature…seems like more ter me. Though some are prob'bly better than others."

The redhead's smugness went ignored by the blond (though Utakata rolled his eyes), who was visibly excited by the prospect of so many Rasengans. "What can the other ones do, do ya think? Can I try Futton next? I know I haven't practiced with it a whole lot, since Han-san doesn't use it too much for ninjutsu, but I'm good with both Suiton and Katon, so it should be pretty easy to learn, right?"

The lava-user waved him off with a careless hand, stepping forward to face Tsunade and Kakashi directly. "Don' care, do what yeh want. Hey, Kakashi, what d'yeh say ter a li'l match, eh?"

Kakashi seemed to smile at him, expression guileless. "Hm? What an intriguing concept—"

"Ain't it?" Rōshi asked, lips twitching into a hungry smirk. "Th' famous student o' th' Yondaime…yeh've gotta be one o' th' strongest shinobi here, aye? I'd like ter see myself what yeh can do."

"I'd like to see that as well," Tsunade said, drawing everyone's attention. "Kakashi, your mission isn't so urgent that you need to leave right away. I'll heal any injuries you both may sustain, although if you can refrain from doing anything debilitating, I'd appreciate it. The only animosities here are political and historical, not personal, so I'm sure you can both practice restraint, hm?"

"Aye, nothin' permanent."

"I'm happy to oblige, Hokage-sama."

"Oh shit, we're gonna see Rōshi-oji fight!" Naruto whispered. Utakata stepped forward and shepherded the group of Jinchūriki away, placing them on the outskirts of the arena-to-be, near where Han had distanced himself.

"This should be interesting," the armored man rumbled, arms crossed over his chest.

"Very," Utakata muttered back, golden eyes sharp on the two shinobi settling across from each other. Rōshi reached to his side and unsheathed his curved daggers, holding one in a reverse grip and the other pointed towards the silver-haired man. With no further warning, he blitzed forward and slashed at Kakashi, who brought up his own kunai to block. Rōshi spun in an arc, dagger cutting through the Konoha-nin's knife like butter; the Leaf shinobi then vanished, a flash of lighting marking his departure.

Kakashi reappeared ten feet back from where he'd started, examining the cleaved kunai and then bringing a hand to his chest to rub at the line seared across his flak jacket. He tossed the useless knife handle away and again appeared to smile at the Iwa-nin. "Well, that was a little close, hm? I suppose I should take this seriously." With a practiced motion, he raised a hand to his slanted hitae-ate and lifted it so that his second eye – gleaming a bloody scarlet – was uncovered.

"So, th' rumors're true, eh? An' here I thought th' shinobi who came back were makin' shit up ter excuse their failure."

"Ah, well, you know how stories can be embellished over time."

Rōshi didn't respond, instead flipping through seals while Kakashi's fingers mimicked his movements, and the two of them called out, "Yōton: Shakugaryūgan no Jutsu." A series of molten orbs flew from their mouths and collided in midair, flaming debris scattering about from the point of impact. "It's not a kekkei genkai?" Kakashi sounded surprised. "What a fascinating skill."

"Aye, enjoy it." Rōshi raced towards him, eyes averted from the Leaf shinobi's, and began to slash at Kakashi with his kunai, drops of magma flying off the blades with each swing. Kakashi weaved through the blitz with impressive dexterity, appearing one step ahead of the lava-user; when he finally struck back, open palm filled with shrieking lightning aimed for his opponent's chest, red-yellow lava covered the Iwa-nin's body, and Kakashi pulled his gloved hand back with a hiss.

The Jōnin put space between them and then flipped through seals, summoning a water dragon from the nearby pond that roared towards Rōshi's back. A spire of rock erupted from the ground at the Iwa-nin's back at an angle to protect him from the incoming serpent, which smashed against the protrusion and sent water spraying in all directions. Droplets fell around them, evaporating against the redhead's Lava Armor with repeated hisses, and Kakashi closed the gap to jab at his opponent with fists sheathed in rocky gauntlets.

Lava hardened to obsidian over Rōshi's hands, and he parried the incoming punches, eyes like pitch focused on the Leaf shinobi's midriff. Two clones rose from the earth on either side of the redhead and made to grab him, but he crouched under their reach and summoned three spikes of earth that speared up into the trio of Jōnin. Two of them were impaled and slumped into mud, but the real Kakashi sidestepped the technique with minimal effort and immediately countered with his own Earth Flow Spears technique. They burst from the ground at multiple angles, one after the other near instantaneously, thin like lances, but Rōshi seemed to dance among the protrusions with a flexibility that nearly mirrored Utakata's fighting style.

Watching them, Naruto wondered if maybe it wasn't because of his two teachers' past fights that Rōshi's movements were so like the Kiri-nin's.

Or perhaps he'd always been this skilled, but never been pushed hard enough to show it.

Rōshi's chakra flared once again, a bright corona, and Kakashi raised a hand to shield his eyes. He jumped backwards to avoid a potential counterattack, lightning crackling protectively along his body, but the Jinchūriki remained where he was. Returning his attention to his opponent, the Leaf Jōnin took the brief détente to remark, "You seem to be familiar with the Sharingan."

"Aye, fought my fair share o' Uchiha."

"But the way you move…it must be more than mere practice. I'm guessing you're an earth-sensor."

Naruto leaned over to Fū and asked in a loud whisper, "What's an earth-sensor?"

"Masters of Doton," Han answered instead, arms crossed and gaze unmoved from the Leaf-Rock spar. "They can track a shinobi's movements through even minor vibrations in the earth. They are quite valued in Iwa."

Fū let out an impressed whistle, and Naruto exhaled a 'wow.' Rōshi shrugged, looking smug despite the casual gesture. "Yeh know 'bout earth-sensing, eh?"

"Fought my fair share of Iwa-nin."

With the eyesight of the Sharingan, Kakashi caught the hard expression that flickered across the Rock shinobi's face, downturned as it was, at the glib remark. Furrowed brow, narrowed eyes, pursed lips…it was all there for just a moment, and then his expression was carefully neutral once more. So, he mused, you still have some loyalty for your countrymen, hm?

Or…perhaps just the same stubborn pride as every other Iwa-nin.

An earthen wall rose between them, and before Kakashi could decide on a course of action, the ground beneath his feet began to grow hot. The Sharingan caught the pillar of magma before it erupted, and he avoided the jutsu before it fried him. A series of eruptions followed that the Jōnin was able to track with his kekkei genkai, dodging each one with little effort.

Three small calderas opened around him, and Kakashi substituted himself out of the area. Instead of pillars of lava, the calderas spewed out ash and sulfur, clouding the area in soot, and the Jōnin was forced to close his eyes to prevent any particulates from getting in them. He's sharp, floated past his mind, just as the Sharingan blinked shut.

Hands flew through familiar seals, and he bit his thumb before slamming open palms on the ground. "Kuchiyose no Jutsu!"

He couldn't see the pack of dogs his Summoning Technique brought forth, but he heard their familiar growls as they assembled against an incoming foe. The clink of claws and teeth against something hard sounded out, followed by the whimper of his summons, and Kakashi brought chakra to his hand for the famed Raikiri. The Lightning Blade stretched outward just as something hard and dense slammed into his stomach; it pierced through stone and into flesh even as all the air left his lungs.

"Alright, that's enough!"

Tsunade's bark halted everything, and Kakashi gladly covered his Sharingan with his hitae-ate, attempting a gulp of air that also steadied the wave of dizziness caused by overusing the kekkei genkai. Carefully opening his normal grey eye revealed his arm buried elbow-deep in an armor of pitch-black obsidian in the lower portion of Rōshi's ribcage. In exchange, the Iwa-nin's rocky fist was planted firmly in his midriff.

Tsunade approached from behind Rōshi, grabbed his shoulder, and pulled him away from the Konoha-nin. Kakashi's arm fell out of his front with barely a sound, and as his stone fist moved, the Jōnin gasped a difficult second breath. Hands coated in green chakra moved to hover over Rōshi's wound, and as the obsidian armor crumbled away, Kakashi saw the redhead's skin knit back together, leaving only a ragged hole in his magenta top. When the silver-haired man was finally able to stagger to his feet, Tsunade began to scan him. "No permanent damage," she muttered. "You'll live. Thank you, Kakashi, you're dismissed."

The Jōnin bowed. "Hokage-sama."

As she watched him go, Rōshi stepped up beside her. "I appreciate your restraint," she said. "Kakashi's one of our best, but I still question whether he could go toe-to-toe with someone of our level, even with the Sharingan."

Rōshi grunted, hand rubbing at the hole torn through his clothes. "He don' make it easy, that's fer sure. 'Sides, goin' all out woulda beat th' purpose. Needed th' practice…an' ter show th' others."

"Is that what that was for? Because he had the Sharingan?" Utakata asked, approaching from behind with the other Jinchūriki. He smirked at Rōshi, eliciting a scowl from the redhead. "I knew you believed in the cause."

"Feh."

"Rōshi-oji, that was an awesome fight! Up until he got you at the end—"

"Pathetic to let him get the better of you."

"Like yeh've got room ter talk with th' people yeh've been fightin'."

"I'm not healing either of you if another fight breaks out here," Tsunade warned, "and I have more important shit to deal with, so put up or shut up." She turned on her heel, leaving the two Iwa-nin glaring at each other while the remaining Jinchūriki watched.

When the silence had stretched for long enough, Fū poked Naruto in the shoulder and said, "Hey, don't you have a thing with Hinata you have to get to?"

"Ah, yeah! It's White Day, I've gotta go!"

After he raced off, Utakata took another step closer to Rōshi and asked, "So, did you figure something out during that spar?"

The lava-user shook his head. "Nothin' I didn' already know." To the rest of the Jinchūriki, he said, "Yer all gonna need practice fightin' th' Sharingan. Might as well start now."

Spring was finally in full swing, the bright blue of the nearly cloudless sky making even the Land of Lightning's grey mountains appear vibrant. Pretty, if one cared about that type of thing. If nothing else, it made the journey back from the Village Hidden in Clouds more pleasant, and she didn't have to worry about rain.

She hated rain.

Nii Yugito bounded across the Land of Lightning with all the grace of a mountain lion, the uneven terrain barely an impediment. Much of the last decade had been spent prowling over the mountains, the traveled path basically a muscle memory that allowed her mind to wander.

Kumogakure wasn't a particularly inviting place, but it also wasn't aggressively hostile to people like her. The Hidden Cloud Village had a strange relationship with the concept of Jinchūriki; after obtaining the Hachibi from the Shodai Hokage during the first Kage Summit, the village leaders had immediately tried to control its power. They'd spent decades sacrificing people in an attempt to utilize the creature's power, but no method had proven effective, and the Eight-Tails' rampages were burned bitterly into the collective memory of the village.

So when the Hidden Cloud stumbled across the Two-Tails' haven deep in the mountains, capture and containment was the best they could accomplish. The Nibi was sealed in a large diamond that had been unearthed years before and kept as a treasured gem, protected beside the Kohaku no Jōhei that kept the Hachibi imprisoned when a human container failed.

But people were strange, and exploration of the Nibi's home – a den of charred bones and darkness, primal and macabre – had offered inspiration to a few theologians. They were partially reformed disciples of Jashin, a god of destruction with a smattering of followers across the continent, and they had seen something in the demonic cat's abode that awakened some new precepts.

It was the beginning of the Kyūshō acolytes, reverent to a deity they knew almost nothing about, and they'd moved deep into the mountains – nearer to where the Two-Tails had been discovered – only partially of their own volition; praise for the Bijū in the midst of the Second Shinobi World War was an unfavorable position to take, and they'd been run out of the village proper.

Then the Third Raikage died in battle, his son took over leadership, Killer B became the next Hachibi Jinchūriki, and things…changed. Eventually, over years, but progress was a slow thing. The Fourth Raikage's adoptive brother was easygoing, charming, likeable, and the Raikage himself (more than his father) was committed to raising the newest Jinchūriki right. Carefully, and still as a weapon of the village, but with consideration for his state of being…his person.

Even so, that kindness had not prevented Yugito from being sealed with the Nibi at the age of two (shortly after the Raikage Eī and Bī's return from a training trip to the Land of Lightning's traveling Island Turtle), before she had any concept of what a Bijū was, what she wanted to be, what would be expected of her…anything really. And as the leadership under the newest Raikage didn't preclude the Hidden Cloud from maintaining its status as a militant nation, the blonde was thrown into shinobi training with little fanfare.

It would have been easy to be resentful of losing her childhood to the machinations of a nation which was, as the days passed, growing increasingly ambivalent toward her (in a good way), but the repetition of training seemed to push that bitterness to the side. And if she felt isolated by how the villagers treated her, that loneliness was offset by the whispering voices she often heard late at night. The sounds were nonsense, just overlapping, indecipherable murmurs, but they became more constant – and more understandable – as she got older.

It wasn't until she was a few months shy of turning 13, less than a year after the end of the Third Shinobi World War, that the mysteries of her life, voices included, saw answers. Bī took her to the Island Turtle, to a hidden temple behind what he called the Falls of Truth, and she came face to face with the Nibi no Bakeneko.

The Two-Tailed Monster Cat was a towering creature with mismatched eyes – one green, one gold – and fur of flickering blue and black fire. She – for the feline's echoing timbre had a definite feminine lilt – was…not benevolent necessarily, but at least agreeable in a way that defied the stories she'd heard of the Hachibi.

Guided by Bī's upbeat attitude, the Nibi's own tacit advice, and even some strange oversight provided by the surprisingly genial Eight-Tailed Giant Ox, Yugito slowly learned how to wield the powers of the nekomata sealed within her. But more than that, she began to understand what it truly meant to be a soldier of the Hidden Cloud.

A Jinchūriki for Kumo.

Seven years her elder, Bī had an extensive and fascinating perspective on a life Yugito was only now becoming acquainted with. He was peculiar, yes, and frankly a bit cheerier than she would have expected given both what she'd experienced so far and the stories he shared with her, but she appreciated the foreknowledge of what laid ahead.

Sixteen months later, and the Raikage had blessed the conclusion of her training and given her what amounted to free reign for a Jinchūriki in the Hidden Cloud, which required loyalty to the village and service on missions, but also a place outside Kumo that she could call home if she so desired. Bī had told her of his getaway, Unraikyō, deep inside the Land of Lightning's mountain ranges, and so Yugito took inspiration from that for herself.

With Matatabi's guidance, she returned to where the Nibi had once lived and discovered the temple of the Kyūshō acolytes, who welcomed her with open arms, worshipped her in a way the villagers of Kumo did not.

Similar to Bī, their exuberance was a little much to deal with constantly, so Yugito tended to float between the village, where she was often assigned missions or training (either for herself or up-and-coming Kumo-nin) as another (albeit highly skilled) productive member of society, and the temple, where she was revered as a deity.

In some ways, it was a little masochistic to live between the village, where her presence inspired tepid caution to polite neutrality to excitement (depending on the age of the villager), and the temple, but such was the life of a Jinchūriki. Yugito had long ago accepted the dichotomy of her lot, in all facets.

Such as the constant teeter between life and death.

As if she had inspired the ancient folklore surrounding both bakeneko and nekomata, the Nibi was intricately linked with death and – as evidenced by her fur – associated with fire. Shinobi were no strangers to killing, to their lives always being at risk, but no one else could hear the voices of the dead like she could. That was one of the reasons she preferred the mountains; the solitude from both the living and dead was much more obvious.

…Strange though, that she could hear so many voices this close to the temple. The Kyūshō acolytes held a strange fascination for the cycle of life and death, including a deep respect for the latter and an intrigue for the potential of reincarnation, but they were also in the habit of returning those who passed away to their families for proper mourning.

From the outside, the temple seemed as unchanged as ever, with its stylized antique architecture and artistic interpretation of the Nibi set as guardian statues on either side of the entrance. She opened the doors, expecting the usual warm greeting of the Kyūshō acolytes—

The overwhelming stench of blood hit her, and Matatabi released a yowl in her mind. The temple-goers' bodies were strewn across the wooden floor, sticky red liquid splashed across the walls and puddled along worn tatami mats. Scattered about were arms and legs; a corpse split at the waist was only a few feet away. Osamu's nearby decapitated head stared up at her unblinkingly. Judging by the state of coagulation, the blonde guessed only a day or two had passed since the temple had been attacked.

As she walked through the room, a body at the center drew her attention. It was dressed differently than the acolytes, a long black robe with red swaths painted liberally across it. Pale-skinned and silver-haired, he lay prone on ground, a black rod impaled through his sternum. She stared at him for a long moment, then let out a sigh. Well, at least they took down their attacker.

Vengeance didn't make their deaths any more acceptable, but it was a small comfort in the moment.

Her brow furrowed. Wait—

The temple exploded in flames.

Yugito burst through the open entrance surrounded by swirling fire, blonde hair carrying embers and ash. She landed on all fours, dark eyes flitting around the rugged landscape for the source of the attack. "I know you're there," she called. "I can sense you."

"If that were true," came a dispassionate, measured baritone, "then you would use the element of surprise to your advantage. Either that, or you are as foolish as my idiot partner."

The man who appeared across from her was shrouded in mystery, only the strip of skin around his eyes uncovered. He looked about Killer B's height, with a grey hood and black mask that concealed his head and mouth; the rest of his body was covered in a high-collared black cloak decorated with red clouds, which she realized was probably what the prone man lying in the middle of the now-burning temple was wearing. She'd had enough conversations with the Raikage to know what the outfit represented: the terrorist organization Akatsuki.

And they'd come to the Land of Lightning.

That couldn't be allowed to stand.

"Still got you to come out, didn't it?"

The tall man made a motion that might be interpreted as a shrug. "Your awareness of my presence matters little."

"Fuck! Kakuzu, you asshole, I was almost done with my prayers!"

"Ah," was the droll acknowledgment of the Akatsuki-nin, Kakuzu apparently, "do you see the level of intelligence I must abide?"

Yugito moved so she was no longer directly between the two shinobi, instead standing at the vertex of a triangle that kept both in her periphery, and eyed the foul-mouthed man who had emerged from the temple. His clothes were mostly gone, leaving him in a pair of burned maroon pants, shinobi sandals, and a necklace that gleamed metallic silver on his bare chest. Gripped in his hands was a triple-bladed scythe nearly as large as the shorter man himself, the handle and each blade the color of fresh blood.

Despite the inferno he'd just walked out from, his skin appeared mostly unmarred.

Could he have protected himself? Did he know the attack from his partner was coming?

The blonde rose from her crouch and activated the Claw Creation Technique, fingernails growing nearly a foot and sharp as needles. "You made a mistake coming here," she told the pair, "and an even bigger one by attacking the temple."

"I would disagree," Kakuzu stated. "We found who we wanted, and in a relatively short timeframe. That Hidan's ritual has put you in a heightened emotional state is to our advantage. One might consider this…serendipitous."

"Hey, hey, all this yammering is getting on my nerves," Hidan interjected. "I can't kill this one, right?"

"Nezumi Kedama!"

An indigo fireball burst from the Kumo-nin's mouth and then split into multiple projectiles that shaped themselves into fiery rats and soared towards both enemies. Hidan lifted his weapon and twirled it with surprising deftness, creating a barrier the Mouse Hairball exploded against harmlessly. "Correct, but I would not underestimate her," Kakuzu warned; he, too, appeared unfazed by her attack, unmoved from his position.

"Yeah, yeah… Guess I'll have to hope Jashin-sama was satisfied with all those other sacrifices."

"You…you're a follower of Jashin?" Yugito could feel her temper roiling. "And you killed the Kyūshō acolytes?"

"Heretics, all of 'em! They deserved what they got for betraying Jashin-sama!"

Yugito nearly screeched, lunging for the silver-haired man with outstretched claws. She slashed at his face, but he blocked with the long handle of his scythe and grinned at her, purple eyes wide with manic delight. With a deft flip, the blades came for her back, but the Kumo-nin ducked and then swept Hidan's legs. The Akatsuki-nin stumbled, then stabilized himself with his free hand and somersaulted back to an upright position, using his movement to extend the coil of cable connected to the scythe's end in a loop that threatened to entangle the blonde. She tried to sever the cable with her claws and encountered resistance.

Scowling, she shot a quick, sharp glance towards Kakuzu, who didn't appear to have moved. He was either remarkably confident in his partner's abilities, apathetic to the fight at hand, or waiting for another opportunity.

Any way, she was determined to make them regret their actions.

Blue-black fire blazed along her skin and clothes. She blitzed forward and assaulted Hidan with animalistic fury, the flames fueled by her chakra flaring with each attack. The Akatsuki-nin matched her blow for blow, blocking and attacking as needed with his scythe and metal coil, heedless of any rogue hellfire that licked at his unprotected upper body.

He's impressive. She was skilled in taijutsu, naturally graceful and used to training against the likes of those who were equally capable or practiced in ken- or bukijutsu. Killer B, whom she'd sparred with on many occasions, was one of the greatest kenjutsu practitioners she knew, a wielder of seven blades simultaneously. Yugito preferred hand-to-hand with her Claw Creation Technique, but she'd fought enough weapon-users to be able to judge their skills—

And Hidan was good, especially given the size and weight of his weapon as compared to the man's own physique. She was struggling to land a hit on him, and worse, the niggling suspicion that he didn't even need to block or avoid her strikes was growing; the silver-haired man still seemed completely unperturbed by the flames licking his skin with every attack.

With a quick application of chakra, her toenails grew into claws, and she kicked up while he was distracted blocking her hands. The nails buried themselves in his thigh, and Hidan released a grunt that sounded uncomfortably closer to pleasure than pain. He threw his head forward and crushed her nose, eliciting a yelp from the Kumo-nin. She recoiled from him, toenails flaying flesh from his thigh, and he only laughed in response. Yugito saw the Akatsuki-nin's hand twitch, and she moved aside just as the man's scythe came hurtling back towards him.

He watched her with a fascinated expression, blood smeared across his face, and she stared back as his tongue came out and licked a long, lascivious circle around his lips. "Ahhh, that's the stuff."

Yugito readied herself for his next attack—

Hidan turned away and dashed for the burning temple.

The Cloud kunoichi raced through seals and opened her mouth wide. "Rengokuen!"

A fireball burst from her lips and rapidly expanded as it approached Hidan. The shirtless man stopped, threw his scythe backwards like a boomerang, and then continued running for the temple. Yugito nearly scoffed at the (unprecedented) attempt to combat the Purgatory Flame technique, but then the weapon cleaved through the incoming fire like it was paper and the whole jutsu dispersed into embers. The blonde quickly buried her shock and resolved herself to an alternate tactic, albeit one she wasn't fond of. Summoning the Nibi's blue-black hellfire to her arms, she flipped through a long string of signs, offering silent thoughts to the Kyūshō acolytes. Osamu, Kōsuke, Ryōta, Ji, everyone…aid me once more. "Hijutsu: Shisha no Yobigoe!"

The hellfire ran from her arms to her hands and then into the earth, where it spread out in a ring with her at the center. With the secret technique activated, she arose and sprinted in Hidan's wake—

Something grabbed her waist-length ponytail and pulled; Yugito, lithe and agile, yipped as she was slammed into the ground back-first. Looking skyward, her periphery caught what appeared to be a human hand connected to dozens of black threads returning to where Kakuzu had remained in his silent vigil the entire fight. She rolled to her hands and knees and snarled at the tall Akatsuki-nin, whose appendage slipped back inside the long sleeve of his cloak. "Wait your turn!"

"No. This is becoming tedious, and Hidan is about to initiate another tiresome ritual, although I admit he has gotten further than I expected."

"Oi, what the fuck's all this?!"

Hidan was bodily dragged out the temple doors by spectral bodies wreathed in the blue and black flame utilized by the Nibi Jinchūriki. As Kakuzu watched, it became more apparent they were humanoid in nature, skeletons with black bones covered by semi-translucent bright blue fire. "What a fascinating jutsu," he muttered.

In Yugito's mind, it was, perhaps, an understatement, and that Kakuzu wasn't more disturbed spoke volumes about who the Akatsuki members were as people. The Call of the Dead secret technique was practically a violation of the Two-Tails' 'realm,' summoning spiritual incarnations of the nearby deceased and creating an army to serve at the user's bidding. Despite her normal wariness in using the skill, the circumstances of the Kyūshō acolytes' deaths seemed an appropriate time as any to do so, perhaps even to give them a semblance of vengeance.

With Hidan stymied (at least temporarily), Yugito turned her full attention to Kakuzu and fired off several Mouse Hairballs, followed by a growing Purgatory Flame fireball that she used as cover to close the gap between them. "Hm, I think not. Suiton: Eien no Kōzui."

Something rustled under the tall man's cloak, and beside his covered head appeared a white ANBU mask with blue markings. Its beaked mouth opened wide and expelled an unending torrent of water. Yugito yowled as the Timeless Flood technique caught her in its deluge, washing away the Nezumi Kedama and Rengokuen in the process and rolling her in its wake. She summoned the Nibi's hellfire, steaming rising at the contact between the opposing elements, and she was able to lessen the flood's impact enough to scrabble out of its wake. On all fours, she glared at the Akatsuki shinobi and hissed at him in rage.

"I see the beast behind the shinobi now."

"You haven't seen anything yet," Yugito snarled. Her chakra exploded around her, form growing exponentially until the kunoichi disappeared, wreathed in blue and black flames shaped like a 10-story nekomata. The summoned Nibi turned to face Kakuzu with mismatched eyes – one gold, the other a shade bluer than the nukenin's own emerald – sharp, feline teeth bared in a sneer. She exhaled a fireball the size of a house, and Kakuzu responded with a sphere of water that vaporized on impact, reducing the bulk of the technique's power.

"A Jinchūriki who can transform into the Bijū," he mused, "surpassing even what Kinkaku and Ginkaku could accomplish. Let it not be said that Kumogakure does not train its shinobi to excel."

The Nibi howled, twin tails twitching behind her, and embers of blue flame shot out, formed into swallows, and flocked towards the mercenary. His hands moved through a few signs, and earthen debris rose from around his feet to pepper the incoming projectiles in an inverted dirt rainstorm. With two giant steps, the cat closed the distance between them and swiped at Kakuzu, intending to bat him into the mountainside with a blow that would kill a normal person.

Instead, the paw's momentum was arrested, a tiny pinprick of resistance against her pad, and then a cyclone of water burst into her face with the force of a hurricane. Matatabi backed away, head turned away from the attack, and when it finally stopped, she spied one ANBU mask on either side of the Akatsuki-nin's face. Tails flicking restlessly behind her, she stared at Kakuzu with unblinking heterochromatic eyes. Finally, she sat on her haunches and said, voice an echoing alto, "You're formidable."

"…You…are intelligent." There was a note of surprise in Kakuzu's deep voice. "Moreso than my partner, assuredly. And here the prevailing assumption was that the Bijū were mindless creatures of wanton destruction."

"There is much humans do not understand," came the terse response, a sniff of disdain in her regal timbre. "I am willing to make you an offer."

"…Intriguing. I feel I should be honored."

"Death lingers about you both, but where your partner reeks of senseless murder for an insatiable god, with you, I sense the lives of others. You have a respect for the dead that your partner, whose spirit emanates a putrid disdain for life, lacks. Leave him to face my judgment, to make reparations for those who respected my ways, never return, and I will let you go free without further duress."

Kakuzu huffed an amused sound that might have been a laugh. "I cannot speak to what you see, but I can assure you I have no greater respect for the lives I take than Hidan. My targets are merely those who can fill my coffers, a careful dagger to his explosive tag of rampant murder. That they may continue to live through me in a façade of spiritualism is a religious fantasy I do not consider." He watched the Nibi's expression draw into a frown, tails flickering with increased agitation. "And if I were to return empty-handed, without yourself or my partner, distasteful as he may be, there would be…repercussions."

"…So be it."

She rose to her feet and moved to attack just as a web of black threads exploded from the Akatsuki-nin's back and wriggled wildly around his head, three ANBU masks arrayed in the mane. "Kaminari Harikēn!"

Water and wind spewed from two of them, the latter blowing a deluge of liquid into a massive hurricane that buffeted the Bijū. Lightning crackled in the mouth of a bull-shaped ANBU mask, sending a pulse of electricity into the summoned storm, where it bounced around the water droplets and electrocuted the nekomata. Matatabi screamed under the strength of the Lightning Hurricane technique, and Kakuzu mused, "That you would pose an offer of leniency contrary to your host's desire suggests you are afraid of my power."

The Two-Tails' fur flared, evaporating the watery portion of the storm and breaking the rest of the jutsu before her heterochromatic attention fixed back on the mercenary. "I offered you mercy out of respect, not fear. But I see now you are not worthy of the opportunity." A halo of heat built around her, distorting the atmosphere, and Kakuzu looked up as the weather seemed to morph around the changing temperature gradient. Chakra began to coalesce into small blue or red bubbles that then gathered into a dark orb before the creature's maw. Power wafted off the growing black orb at a level that the Akatsuki-nin could feel in the air, and for a moment, Kakuzu felt a flicker of trepidation he hadn't known since he'd been recruited into Akatsuki, or before that, his failure against the First Hokage.

Then the feline shrieked in pain and staggered backwards a step, mouth closing and chakra dissipating. "Ah, finally."

With the waning sounds of battle, Hidan's maniacal laughter from deep within the temple was more apparent. As Kakuzu watched, a stream of the Nibi's blue and black flames erupted from her rear leg like blood spurting from an arterial wound, and the nekomata, off-balance, fell to her haunches. "What is this?"

"I believe Hidan calls it Shiji Hyōketsu," Kakuzu stated with casual disinterest, sounding dismissive. "I would have expected someone with your apparent knowledge of Jashinism to know its jujutsu."

The Nibi released another yowl as more streams of chakra left her body from the other leg, then from her belly, shoulders, neck—

She shrank, flaming fur wisping off into nothingness, until only the Kumo-nin remained, human, exhausted, bleeding. Kakuzu stepped forward then, approaching the kunoichi, who raised her head to glare at him with baleful, dark eyes. "You think you've won?" she spat.

"This battle, yes."

His hand shot out from his cloak – connected by innumerable black threads – grabbed her head, slammed it into the ground, and then she thought no more.