Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Sunagakure

“Lady Temari is the ideal candidate. She’s the top of her class and the finest kunoichi among the Genin in the village.”

“Siblings have a poor track record in the Games, are we really going to dismiss Lord Kankuro so easily?”

“Does Kankuro really have the…'versatility’ to win the Games?”

“Are you saying something about puppet users, Gonkriki?”

“No, I’m just questioning-”

“The Puppet Corp has produced several Victors in our villages’ history!”

“None in the last 20 yea-”

“MAYBE if we stopped focusing on ‘versatility’ and actually sent our most competent shinobi, we might be able to produce more Victors!”

Rasa sighed. The debate over candidates for the Genin Games consumed the council every single year. The survival competition would see one male and one female genin from every participating village until one individual emerged from this brutal fight to the death. Ultimately a pointless debate, as the Fourth Kazekage he always had the final say over the volunteers. Nonetheless every faction, the Clans, the Puppet Corp, the Wind Style Specialists, and more always feel compelled to push for its own candidate. The fact that his own children are at the center of the latest discussion has made the proceedings seem slightly more morbid than normal.

The reaping of the Genin may officially be random, but no major village worth its kunai would leave such an important selection to chance. Victory in the games meant pride and respect for the village, but most crucially an almost guaranteed uptake in mission requests, something Suna desperately needed. The debates themselves may have been generally pointless, but the selection itself is potentially one of the most important and public decisions he makes as Kazekage each year. Though this year even he might not have a say.

It doesn’t take more than a slight fluttering of gold dust to get the council’s attention. Being a master of the Magnet Release certainly has its perks. With the room’s focus firmly on him Rasa gestured to the turban-clad Jonin standing behind him,“Baki relay to the council the last report you gave me.”

With all the professionalism expected from a shinobi, Baki emotionlessly stated “Gaara has decided to volunteer for the Games.”

The visible look of shock on the councilors’ faces gave Rasa some small satisfaction in the brief moment before the room once again descended into chaos.

“-Can’t send the Monster.”
“-slaughter everyone.”

“It’s too much of a risk.”

“Victory is assured.”

“Remember the Nanabi.”

“ENOUGH,” Rasa shouted. A small display of gold dust wouldn’t be enough to gain the council’s attention this time, as a much more forceful outburst than before regained the council’s attention. The council may bicker, but his authority has always been absolute. With the room’s focus once again on him, Rasa nodded forcefully to one of the most vocal and oldest of the body’s members. “Gonkriki when was the last time a Suna candidate won the Games?”

Gonkriki, clad in a turban and beige robes like most of his, was a celebrated veteran of the 2nd Great War. A noted Wind specialist, the scars running down his neck from his chin were a testament to his experience and his will to survive. Yet even this skilled old warrior could not stand strongly against the scrutiny of his irritated Kage. “Thir-Thirteen years Lord Kazekage. None since young Yura.”

Yura smirked, stroking his sharp goatee. As the village’s most recent victor and one of the youngest members of the council, the elite Jonin had become quite the popular figure. The man was skilled, being groomed to be the next head of village security, but what's worrisome to Rasa was his naked ambition. Keeping an eye on him would be important for more than one reason.

Rasa continued, “And how many of the other Great Nations have won the Games since then?”

“All of them Lord Kazekage.”

“All of them,” Rasa reaffirmed. “Taki, Kusa and Oto have all produced victors since then as well. Mission requests are down 6% in the last quarter. They’re down over 20% over the last three years.” Internally he cursed the foolish short sightedness of the Land of Wind’s Feudal Lord. Slashes to the village’s budget and outsourcing missions were becoming existential threats. “If we can’t improve these numbers the village is at risk of economic collapse. Suna needs more than a strong showing at this year’s Games. We need a total overwhelming victory, a clear demonstration of the quality and strength of our shinobi to the rest of the Elemental Nations.”

His statement was followed by a small cough and a crotchety old voice, “It sounds like you’ve already made a decision on this matter, eh Kazekage.”

Once again Rasa found himself sighing internally. Granny Chiyo and her brother Ebizo had been some of the few quiet voices at the meeting. The two rarely involved themselves with the affairs of the village in their retirement, but were still entitled to their seats on the council. A privilege either hardly ever exercised.

“Do you have an issue with that Lady Chiyo?”

The old bag flashed a seemingly toothless smile, “Who, little old me? Hah, hah, ha” The woman’s eerie laughter quickly dissipated and a far sterner and wiser expression formed on her face. “Only one jinchuriki has ever entered the Games, and that was after the end of the First Great War. To do so now would not be a demonstration of our strength, but rather an example of our desperation. To say nothing of the risk of staking our only Bijuu in the competition.”

He winced. The ‘Cherished Elder’ had touched on the issue Rasa himself had been debating in his head for the last several hours. Theoretically the largest prize in the Games was not the prestige gained for the village, but the candidates themselves. The winner’s village is entitled every year to the corpses of the slain Genin. Several kekkei genkai had passed between the shinobi nations as a result of the Games in their early years. The practice of sending in genin with bloodline abilities into the Games (not to mention jinchuriki) largely ended when Taki was able to win control over the Nanabi in one of the most consequential shifts of power the Games ever produced. Only a small handful of kekkei genkai users had been selected since then and more often than not they would be quickly targeted and eliminated at the competition’s outset.

Nonetheless many had given up on the boy as a weapon. He was certainly unstable and bloodthirsty. Everytime Rasa looked at Gaara all he could see was mindless rage and a desire for murder. He also saw Karua in the child’s eyes and his sand, though that was something he would never admit nor even consciously realize. The boy could make himself useful to the village by winning the Games. Besides no male Genin in Suna would dare volunteer for the Games once Gaara made his desires known. For that matter neither would any kunoichi, no matter how devoted to the village they were.

It was these sentiments that Rasa expressed to the council, and after hours of mind numbing arguing, the council at last agreed to select Gaara as the village’s representative. The thought that many of them would have been unable to stop the Shukaku’s container from competing was swiftly repressed from their minds. Even Granny Chiyo accepted the decision, albeit after quite a few grumbles. At last heading into the wee hours of the night, the distressed Kazekage could sense the end of the meeting. Sadly there was still one issue that needed to be discussed.

Leave it to a victor like Yura to get straight to the point. “What poor kunoichi do we sacrifice to the slaughter.”

Most of the council grimaced at his words. While none of them were strangers to sending shinobi to their certain death on mission, being sent to the Games alongside Gaara of all people seemed squeamish even to hardened veterans. This time they were all happy to look towards their Kazekage without any need for him to make a gesture to grab their attention.

“I’ll have someone make a list of ‘disposable’ Genin from our roster. There’s no point in wasting a kunoichi of potential value to the village when they have no chance of surviving Gaara,” Rasa said. Many of the councilors nodded. “We can’t expect them to volunteer, so we’ll have to rig the reaping to ensure the selected candidate is chosen.”

“Perhaps,” Gonkriki responded. “Perhaps it would be better to allow the candidate to be reaped randomly from this list. Allow each of them a chance at survival rather than straight away condemning one to death.” There were more nods at this.

Grabbing his chance to finally put the matter to the rest, Rasa quickly and assertively agreed. “Rigging the reaping to limit the pool to a small number of genin should be simple enough. If that’s settled and there are no further objections I declare this meeting adjourned.”

At last the councillors filed out of the room one by one. Chiyo sent him one final glare before being escorted out by her brother. Hopefully Rasa wouldn't have to deal with them for another year. With the room empty of all but his Anbu detail, he let out an exasperated groan as he stared at the statues of his predecessors that would tower over the meetings. Not once did it occur to him that the sense of unease he had felt when discussing Temari and Kankuro had vanished when the debate shifted to his third child.

“This is our chance to finally be rid of the demon.”

“Do you really believe that a mere genin will be able to take down Gaara?”

“Maybe not in a normal Games, but a little rumor here, a little intelligence leak there and I think we’ll find the other nations very motivated to step up this year. Nothing gets the hidden villages to escalate like a good opportunity.”

Kirigakure

“Is this intelligence confirmed Ao,” asked Yagura.

“Yes it is Lord Mizukage,” Ao gulped. The normally steadfast shinobi always found himself nervous around the young Yagura. The Mizukage had grown particularly violent in the last months, allowing more massacres of bloodline users without any consequences for the perpetrators. Ao suppressed the urge to reach for his eyepatch. Even if the Byakugan he had claimed in the Games so long ago was not originally his, there was no need to remind Yagura that he possessed it.

Yagura drummed his fingers against the scar on his cheek leading up to his pink colored eyes. A habit not even the strongest of genjutsus could break. “So Suna is sending their jinchuuriki into the Games. I didn’t think old man Rasa was so bold.” A jinchuriki himself, and a fully mastered one at that, this news certainly captured Yagura’s attention. With Utakata on the run, Kiri could certainly use another jinchuriki, perhaps one that he could help guide and train. Yes that was a tantalizing thought!

But who could help bring the Ichibi into the fold? The academy exam had helped Kiri produce several victors and strong candidates over the years. Yet the normal standard of the candidates could hardly be counted on to bring down a jinchuriki at this stage in their development.

Yagura smirked, “perhaps some bloodlines users could be useful after all.”

Kumogakure

“WHAAAAAT! SUNA IS SENDING A JINCHURIKI TO THE GAMES,” A the Raikage yelled, smashing his massive fist through his desk.

Darui and C exchanged a glance at each other. Darui let out a yawn. It was going to be one of ‘those’ days. Mabui, taking her boss’s actions in stride was quick with a response. “Yes Lord Raikage, from everything our sources have gathered this appears to be more than just an unfounded rumor.”
“C! Which Genin have we selected for the Games?”

“Uh..Omoi and Karui from Lord Bee’s team Lord Raikage, Sir,” C replied standing at full attention.

A lowered himself back into his chair. “Hmm..Samui’s teammates. It’s always a good look to use the partners of the reigning victor.” He paused for a few moments, stroking his blond goatee. “Have my brother double their training regime, and teach them all he can about fighting a jinchuriki. Tell him if he slacks off or gets distracted by his idotic rapping I’ll show him the full force of my Guillotine Drop!”

“Yes Lord Raikage,” Darui and C said in unison, eager to flee the mountain embedded office.

“AND TELL HIM THAT HE’S GOING TO HAVE TO DO HIS DUTY AS A JOUNIN SENSEI AND ACTUALLY MENTOR THIS YEAR,” A yelled after them. Despite the latest news the Raikage sat quite confident of victory. After all he had just put the number one jinchuriki expert on the case.

Iwagakure

Kurotsuchi strolled into the Tsuchikage’s office, “What’d you want Gramps?” It was odd that the kunoichi had been called into her Grandfather’s office, especially without her team. That hadn’t happened since she made Genin. Odder still was the presence of her father Kitsuchi. Oh no they couldn’t have learned about THAT, could they? It totally wasn’t her fault, she didn’t mean to melt the stupid statue.

“Damn youngster, try showing a little respect,” Onoki grunted. Kitsuchi quickly put his hand on his father’s shoulder. If the two really got started they wouldn’t get to the point of the meeting. Onoki glanced at his son and sighed. “Kurotsuchi, we called you in today because you’ve been selected as the village’s kunoichi candidate for the Genin Games.”

She pumped her fist. She’d heard rumors around the village that she would actually be selected. She dismissed them, didn’t think her Grandfather would risk her or her Lava style abilities. This was great news, maybe the old geezer had a backbone after all. She was fully confident of her victory. After all, anything Deidera could do, she could do better.

“Now there’s a special reason you’ve been chosen this year.” Onoki could feel the oncoming headache. This was going to be a long discussion.

Amegakure

“The target will be vulnerable outside of Suna,” the blue-haired woman said over endless downpours of rain.

“Our preparations are not yet complete and disrupting the Games would bring too much unwanted attention to the Akatsuki at this moment,” responded the orange-haired figure with purple ring eyes. Both figures were clad in black cloaks with red clouds. “We must send a pair of genin to participate in order to maintain appearances. Konan, I’ll need you to act as a mentor. Observe the Ichibi jinchuuriki, gather any intelligence or information on its weaknesses you can.”

“Yes, Nagato.”

Otogakure

“The Games appear to be particularly interesting this year, Lord Orochimaru,” the assistant stated, pushing up his glasses.

“Indeed Kabuto, so many curious specimens in one place. I would hate to miss out on all the fun.” Orochimaru quickly typed on his computer, observing the results of the latest stage 2 tests. “Very fun indeed.”

Takigakure

Shibuki itched around his collar as the other members of the council argued around him. While the waterfall running through the room did have a calming effect, he still found these council meetings extremely distressing. As Taki’s most recent victor, not to mention the first victor since his father, many saw him as the next potential leader of the village. That’s why he had to sit in on all these meetings, grooming him for the future they say. Honestly this was all a little too much pressure.

This time the council appeared to be discussing the Games, something he actually knew more about than the others in the room. Which they kept looking towards him for guidance and were slightly more disappointed in him than usual when he stayed silent. Apparently Suna was planning on entering their jinchuriki and the council was practically salivating at the opportunity.

Senji, the village’s current leader, and Shibuki’s former sensei was leading the discussion. “With two jinchuriki, Taki could take its place as an equal among the Five Great Nations.”

“But there’s no Genin in the village capable of subduing a jinchuriki, even a young and inexperienced one,” responded some random elder. Honestly he couldn’t tell which one said it.

A lightbulb flashed over Shibuki’s head. “That’s not true,” he stated for reasons he could not tell. All eyes were firmly on him now. Blushing and pulling back he continued, “I-I mean...I can think of one person”. Members of the council started muttering amongst themselves. He really hoped he didn’t say anything wrong.

Konohagakure

The Games were necessary, a substitute for war, but Hiruzen despised them nonetheless. Sending Genin, children, to kill each other just to showcase Konoha’s strength on the world stage and deal with international rivalries was repugnant. The whole point of peace and the Will of Fire was to protect the future generations, not send them off to fight their parents’ wars. The Games ultimately insisted upon themselves. One of the Five Great Nations withdrawing would be seen as an act of weakness and likely lead to others attempting to take advantage of that perception. Possibly with military force. He took a puff from his pipe as he observed the other three figures in his office and contemplated one of his least favorite jobs as Hokage.

“How many candidates are we expecting this year.”

Koharu, one of Hirzuen’s teammates from his own genin days responded. “All of the regular competitors: the Five Great Nations, Kusa, Ame, and Taki. Oto is establishing itself as a regular entry as well. We also expected several of the other minor nations to participate as well. In total there should be over twenty candidates this year. A larger field than normal.”

The Hokage nodded. “Gai’s students Rock Lee and Tenten Yukari have progressed impressively over the last year. Under his training and guidance I believe they have developed into suitable candidates, capable of winning the Games.” He took another puff, with the knowledge that he had just sentenced at least one of these two young ninja to death.

“They are fine choices Hiruzen,” Homura his other teammate said, cleaning off his glasses. There’s one.

“Yes on this matter we will trust your judgement,” Koharu concurred. That’s two.

“Hmph,” a grunt of disapproval from the fourth member of the room.

Hiruzen knew that this already painful experience was about to be dragged out further. “Do you have an issue with the proposed candidates Danzo?”

Danzo Shimura despite his clear injuries and bandages was able to sit firmly with perfect posture, a true testament to the sturdiness of a shinobi. With an aging yet calculating voice he replied “I was merely wondering if you were aware of the rumors?”

So that’s what this was. “Yes I am.”

“Then I don’t understand Sarutboi, how can you nominate a boy with no skill in ninjutsu or genjutsu and a girl who is solely reliant on weaponry to take on a jinchuriki?”

Hiruzen took yet another puff from his pipe. He’d really have to refill that soon. “By all accounts Tenten is the finest kunoichi of her class, her accuracy is beyond her rank. As for Lee, based on Gai’s reports his speed and strength far surpasses a typical Genin.”

“I do not discount that they are decent candidates for typical competition, but the introduction of a jinchuriki to the Games has raised the stakes to new levels. Success or failure this year could radically shift the balance of power. Addressing these games with orthadox methods will surely guarantee failure. Failure Konoha can ill afford.”

“What did you have in mind Danzo,” Koharu asked. Hiruzen just lost one.

“I have a particular prospect that I’ve been developing. He’s highly skilled, versatile and has the will necessary to achieve the optimal result. There are none in the current group of Genin that is his equal.”

Homura looked over to Hiruzen. “Maybe it would be for the best if we allowed Danzo to handle the candidates this year.” Just like that he lost them both.

Hiruzen took another puff, a particularly long one this time. He knew he lost the room, but he still had reason to worry. Even with ROOT disbanded Danzo had a nasty habit of turning children into soulless killers. The worst thing about him was when he started making sense and Hiruzen could saldy follow his logic in this case. Though when Danzo starts sounding reasonable, lots of people tend to end up dead, both the innocent and the guilty alike.

At last Hiruzen surrendered. “I suppose you have a candidate for the kunoichi as well. Someone unorthodox?”

Danzo smirked in his victory, “I do.” Hiruzen found that he was out of tobacco.

Chapter Text

Konohagakure

Kakashi Hatake, the famed Copy Ninja, found himself nursing a raging headache on his way to the Sandaime’s office. Honestly he would rather go another few rounds with an S-Rank missing nin than deal with this hangover. His gravity defying silver hair likely looked even messier than normal. Constant banging from the workers setting up the stage for the reaping tomorrow didn’t help matters. This would be his cute little Genin’s first reaping. Took a few hours to drive it through Naruto's skull that he couldn’t volunteer. Even so as he climbed up the stairs, he made a note to himself to stay close to the blond knucklehead tomorrow. No need to risk anything.

Normally he was better at dodging Gai at the bar. But the man was particularly enthusiastic and ‘youthful’ and was able to successfully challenge Kakashi to a drinking contest. Jounin senseis tended to throw giant celebrations a few days before the Games. They would have told poor bastards whose kids were selected by now, so every Jounin who wasn’t preparing their Genin was probably in a similar state as him at the moment. He had really been hoping for a nice easy day, but when the Hokage sends a messenger first thing in the morning, it has to be important. So with a tired yawn Kakashi knocked on the office door. 

“Enter,” came the worn voice of the Sandaime. 

Immediately Kakashi noticed two things upon entering the office. Or three things? The Sandaime wasn’t alone, his two ‘honored’ teammates/advisors Koharu Utatane and Homura Mitakado were standing behind the Hokage. Did that count as one thing or two things? More importantly however was the complete lack of an ANBU presence in the room. No one in the shadows, no one under the floorboards, there wasn't even anyone stuffed in the cramped secret compartment in the ceiling. Either the ANBU had found some new hiding places even Kakashi couldn’t find (could be possible, at his age he really shouldn’t be drinking that much at Jounin get togethers anymore), or he was about to get a mission. The kind of mission that would take months, leave a long trail of bodies and likely give him a few new scars. Could he leave Pakkun to watch the kiddies? Nah, he might need him. 

He certainly couldn’t read Icha Icha in this meeting, fighting the urge to reach for his favorite book. He ignored the glare of the Hokage’s advisors, seriously he was only fifteen minutes late, that’s pretty good by his standards, and stood attentively. “Kakashi Hatake, reporting as ordered.”

“Kakashi,” the Hokage’s somber tone confirmed his earlier suspicions. “I have a mission for Team 7 in the Land of Iron.”

That last tidbit caught Kakashi off guard. Why all the secrecy, if this was just a basic Genin team mission? Maybe he was losing his touch. “What’s our assignment?”

“You will be escorting our candidates to this year’s Games,” responded the old voice of Koharu. 

The Games. No, NO! Weren’t they supposed to give him at least a few weeks to prepare his Genin? They were just rookies for Kami’s sake! None of them were ready for something like  this. ‘ Kasahahi, stop please! What are you doing? Kaskashi, KAKASHI!’  

He tried to suppress his memories. “Lord Hokage, yes Sauske has the makings of an exceptional ninja, but he’s just not ready for the Games. Especially with everything he’s gone through.”

“Kakashi, Sauske hasn’t been selected for the Games.”

Okay scenario two then. “I know the rumors but you can’t really think it’s a good idea to send Naruto. His chakra’s incredible and he’s unpredictable, but he’s still developing the skill and control necessary for something like this. He’ll die in there.”

The Sandaime pinched the bridge of his nose. “We’re not sending Naruto.”

“You can’t seriously think Sakura is-”

“Kakashi, none of your Genin have been selected for the Games.”

“None of them?” the Hokage nodded, “Then forgive me Lord Hokage, but why am I here?”

Homura stepped forward. “Hatake we’ve selected you to act as the mentor to this year’s candidates.”

“That’s traditionally the job of one of their Jounin Senseis,” Kaskashi stated. 

The Sandaime sighed, “Homura, Koharu could you please leave us for a moment.” The two advisors glanced at each other and for a moment Kakashi thought they would protest. In the end the two nodded and slowly left the room. Hiruzen sighed before removing his hat and placing it on the table. He continued, quite warmer than before, “Kakashi I know how difficult this may be for you. However neither of the candidates currently have a Jounin sensei. As a victor, and more so because of your skills and experience, you are uniquely qualified to do the job. Especially this year of all years.”

Kakashi paused for a moment. “So the rumors are true then? Suna is truly sending their jinchuriki?”

The Hokage nodded again, “We have multiple accounts able to confirm this.”

“Konoha has other victors, some of which have actually mentored before.”

“Danzo has put forth one of the candidates,” Hiruzen allowed that to sink in before continuing. “The boy is a trained and experienced killer. Whether or not he has what it takes to defeat the Ichibi Jinchuriki remains to be seen. It’s likely the other villages have gained the same intelligence as us. A, Onoki, and Yagura will use every resource they have to win this year, to say nothing of the minor villages. Should the boy win, he will likely become the most influential and celebrated victor the Games have ever produced. What Danzo will do with such a figure under his influence…” The Hokage left that thought unsaid. “He will need someone to guide him, both during and potentially after the Games. Someone who understands the effects of Danzo’s control.”

Kakashi slouched, if he was a Nara he would likely call the situation ‘troublesome’. “What’s his name?”

“Sai,” the Hokage replied. He reached into his desk and pulled out a photo befoe handing it to his subordinate. The boy was quite young and very pale, but what Kakashi noticed most was the blank, emotionless look in his eye. A look Kakashi had once recognized in himself. 

“And the kunoichi?”

The Sandaime sighed before reaching into his desk for another photo. “How familiar are you with the Kurama Clan?”

Sunagakure

Matsuri and Yukata found themselves waiting in line with the other female Genin. While they had observed the reaping several times as children, this was their first year as potential candidates. They had arrived at the courtyard with Mikoshi and Lo-Sensei, but had been split up for registration. Matsuri couldn’t see Mikoshi anymore, likely he had already passed through registration, while Lo-sensei had likely run off to stand with the other Jounin. 

“Isn’t this so exciting Matsuri,” Yukata ecstatically said raising up her arms. “We’re finally real Genin.”

“We’ve been Genin for three months, Yuka,” Matsuri replied conservatively. She had largely gotten used to her teammate and friend’s abundant energy. It could still catch her off guard a little when it flared up during inappropriate moments like this. 

“You know they don’t take you seriously until after your first reaping,” she responded just as enthusiastically as before. “Plus my favorite tea shop gives out free dango to Genin on reaping day. We totally have to go with Mikoshi after this.”

Matsuri sighed, sometimes it was just better to go along with whatever Yukata said. Still the girl’s optimism and energy could be infectious, and Matsuri found herself with a small smile despite her nerves. “Yeah, sure thing.”

After about another half an hour of waiting the two teammates reached the registration desk. A bored looking Chunin was sitting at the desk with a much more aware samurai observing. Matsuri had only ever seen samurai during Reaping Day, though this was the first one she had ever seen up close. As a neutral power the Land of Iron would host the Games every year with its samurai acting as the primary escorts for the candidates. 

“Name, team and serial number,” droned the Chunin. Like many Suna ninja the Chunin wielded a fan, though in this case she was using it for its natural purpose rather than ninjutsu. Even by Suna’s standards this was a particularly hot day. Matsuri could already feel herself sweating. The courtyard where the Genin were divided was notorious for its lack of shade. She was not looking forward to standing there for potentially hours. She had no idea how the samurai was able to stay so rigid while wearing that heavy armour. 

“Matsuri Sakamoto, Team 19, 1701284.”

“Yukata Nakatsuka, Team 19, 1701286.”

The chunin checked both girls' names on the list and allowed them to pass through to the kunoichi section of the courtyard. Neither of them noticed the extra attention and care the Chunin gave to listing both their names. In the courtyard they found themselves waiting for another hour before the proceedings got underway, as more and more genin filed in. Matsuri focused on the stage. The Kazekage hadn't arrived yet, though several Jounin, councilors and samurai were wandering around and setting up. She inadvertently found herself reaching for her johyo. Lo-sensei had told all of them to bring their weapons to the reaping, as was tradition. She had also explained that should they be reaped there was no need to panic. Whoever the Kazekage selected would quickly volunteer.

Still Matsuri could quite shake her sense of unease. Lo-sensei had explained that that was perfectly normal for a Genin’s first reaping. Matsuri would be expected to go through a few more before she made Chunin, so she had better get used to it. To distract herself, she ended up glancing towards the boys’ section looking for Mikoshi. After a little while she finally made eye contact with her teammate, who was hanging out with a few other boys from their year. She waved over to him, only to stop part way when she realized he was shaking. It made sense that he was nervous, she was too, but his nerves must have been really bad for him to be shaking. It was only when she noticed who was standing nearby did she realize the reason for his logical terror. 

Nearby wasn’t necessarily the right word. The other Genin had given the pair a wide berth, though Mikoshi’s group was certainly the closest. The Kazekage’s eldest son was easily recognizable, with his black ninja suit, hood, and purple face paint. Though even he looked uncomfortable for reasons other than the intense desert son. Standing next to Lord Kankuro was his younger brother, with his trademark red hair and gourd of sand. She’d only ever seen him a few times, but everyone in the village knew to avoid Sabaku no Gaara. The demon of the desert had been responsible for several grizzly murders, even now she could feel the blood lust radiating off of him. Just as she was about to turn away, the boy turned his head staring directly at her. She went cold despite the heat as his deadly glare appeared to stare into her soul. Like her teammate, she found herself shaking. The one thing that allowed her to stay standing was focusing on the dark rings surrounding his eyes. He appeared to snort before turning his head, though she remained transfixed. 

“Matsuri, Matsuri, Earth to Matsuri,” Yukata said. She had started waving her hands in front of her friend’s face to gain her attention, at last breaking Matsuri from her trance.

Shaking herself out of her state Matsuri replied, “Sorry Yuka, what were you saying?”

“I said they’re about to start. Really Matsuri, you can be such an airhead sometimes.” 

Matsuri took a moment to digest the irony of that statement, but quickly realized her friend was right. The Kazekage was on the stage and was approaching the microphone. 

“Greetings young shinobi of Suna, welcome to the reaping for this year’s Genin Games.” It was practically the same speech every year, yet still Matsuri remained focused on his every word. That might have been the power and authority exerted by the Kazekage or more likely it was a result of her need to think about anything other than the red headed demon standing nearby. The Kazekage continued. 

“Even in times of peace, conflict never leaves this shinobi world. That is the ultimate truth of the shinobi, blood must always be shed. The blood of soldiers will always flow through the rivers, forests, mountains and deserts, as the nations struggle and compete. However in times of peace the blood of innocents at least can be spared. Today the fate of Suna lies not with our brave Jounin and Chunin on the battlefield of war, but with you Genin on a battlefield of equal importance. It is your role, as the future of our village, to demonstrate our strength for all to see, so that no village, nation, rogue ninja, lord or even Kage will dare challenge the people of this land.”

“It is this burden we place on to you, a burden we have placed on each of the generations that have come before you. A burden that you yourselves will place on the generations to come. The champions we select from among you today will be among the very best our village has to offer. At least one of them is certain to die, but do not mourn their passing as a tragedy. Rather celebrate and honor their sacrifice as they will give their life for the village, no different from the shinobi that fall in war. These candidates will fight against the elite Genin our rivals and will compose themselves with honor. They will fight for nation and of equal importance they will fight for glory. In these circumstances, as is often the case in true conflict the two go hand in hand.”

This was where the Kazekage’s speech normally ended, but to Matsuri and the other Genin’s surprise, he continued. “It has been thirteen years, thirteen long years since the village last tasted victory. This is a streak that cannot be afforded any longer. The weight we place on our candidates this year is greater than ever before. It's not their lives that are at stake today, but the lives and livelihood of every person in this village. Nothing short of absolute victory can be tolerated. To the candidates that will be chosen shortly, know that you I wish you luck, and I am certain that you will bring the success Suna requires.”

There were some faint murmerings among the Genin and the civilians watching in attendance. The Chunin and Jounin however remained perfectly silent, displaying the qualities of professionalism expected from the ninja of Suna. After a short pause a polite applause rang out throughout the courtyard. At last a pair of Samurai rolled out two giant glass chalices, each filled to the brim with slips of paper. The Kazekage approached the ball on the left and slowly reached inside, grasping a single slip, before unfurling it. Her last thought before he read out the name, was why did they bother with all this ceremony in the first place if the Kazekage just picked the volunteers anyways. 

“Matsuri Sakamoto.”

Matsuri Sakamoto .

Matsuri Sakamoto.

At first Matsuri wondered why the Kazekage had just spoken her name, before she realized that she had just been selected. Okay no reason for her to panic, she just had to remember what Lo-sensei said. Someone will volunteer. This will just be a fun story she’ll tell in a couple of years. She could probably leverage some extra free dango at the shop out of this, maybe even guilt her team into treating her to barbeque later. Ignoring the worried looks Yukata and some of the nearby Genin were shooting at her, she started looking around for Lady Temari. Everyone knew she was the most talented kunoichi of all the current Genin in the village. At last Matsui caught sight of her, but Temari remained rooted to the spot staring straight ahead at her father. 

“Matsuri Sakamoto,” the Kazekage spoke out again. “Please come down to the stage.”

Matsuri found herself walking towards the stage without even realizing it. Okay still no need for her to panic, this happened every few years. The village just wants to add an extra bit of showmanship. The Kazekage will call for volunteers, someone will come forth in some grand display and everyone will end up cheering. She’s just a bit player in all of this, the set up for the main event. She will be fine. She just needs to remember to bow to the volunteer and they’ll send her on her way. She’ll be a minor village celebrity for a few days and then everything will go back to normal. After what feels like an eternity she reaches the stage, earning the attention of the Kazekage. He nods to hers with a stiff frown on his face. It’s almost over, just a few more seconds and she can start breathing again. 

“Are there any volunteers,” the Kazekage calls out. They are really stretching this out. It better be some spectacle for them to scare her like this, something with music, fireworks and confetti. To Matsuri’s surprise the Kazekage grabbed her hand. She remained perplexed as he raised her arm into the air. “I give you your female candidate for this year’s Genin Games, Matsuri Sakamoto!”

The crowd started cheering as Matsuri began to contemplate what had happened. She was a rookie, she only started being a genin a mere three months ago. She hadn’t even gone on her first C-Rank mission yet. She couldn’t have been selected for the dealidest competition in the world. She looked out to the cheering crowd for her teammates. Yukata looked like she was on the verge of tears, Mikoshi seemed to have already let a few drops go. Even Lo-sensei seemed completely shocked, and had another Jounin patting her on the back. This wasn’t real any second now, she would wake up in the hospital and they would tell she had suffered some head trauma in a training accident. 

The Kazekage put down her hand and walked towards the second chalice. “Now for the boys.”

However before he could reach into the chalice for another slip, a large swirl of sand appeared on the stage. After a few moments the sand cleared, and Gaara emerged to the silence of the entire crowd. The boy’s rapeseed voice somehow rang out for the audience to hear. “I volunteer.” 

The child’s father looked at his son with disdain, before turning back to the crowd. “I give you your male candidate for this year’s Genin Games, Sabaku no Gaara.” Complete silence, not a word or even a gasp could be heard. He turned back to Gaara and Matsuri. “Make the unison sign.”

She heard the Kazekage’s order, but once again she realized she was frozen. She was going to die. Not only that, but she was going to die horribly, likely fully encased and broken in sand if she didn’t suffocate first. She started trembling only for an iron grip to be placed on her shoulder. Looking up she saw the glare of her Kazekage. Quite tentalvy she raised her hand towards Gaara, her still shaking fingers poised to make the unison sign.

The boy stared at her with a fully blank look on his face. She hadn’t noticed before now, but they were the same height. He just continued to look at her, her gesture left unanswered, before turning around and walking towards a contingent of samurai. Her arm still outstretched, she barely noticed when a turban clad Jounin with red facial tattoos roughly grabbed her arm. “Come on now,” Baki gruffly said as he pulled the girl towards the awaiting samurai.

Konohagakure

Suna, Iwa, Kiri, Kumo, Taki, Kusa, Ame, Oto, Shimo, Ishi, Tani, Hoshi and Nadeshiko. Counting Konoha, that's fourteen villages, twenty-seven candidates. Kakashi struggled to remember a larger edition of the Games, his own competition having a mere 16 candidates. It seemed that everyone was taking their shot at the Suna jinchuriki. A tantalizing prize, that clearly none of them could resist. 

Konoha was one of the last villages to hold their reaping, giving the Copy Ninja the chance to observe some of this year’s candidates. While in the past only notable lords and wealthy merchants could observe the Games, improvements in technology such as cameras and film now made the event and its buildup much more watable for the widespread public. While for the general public that meant crowding into the growing number of movie theaters, a select few could observe the Games on personalized viewing sets. While Kakakshi himself could neither afford nor desire one of these rare sets for himself, he was able to make use of one that belonged to the village in the Hokage’s building. 

The reapings for most of the minor villages remained untelevised, but it was a different matter for the 5 Great Nations. As always, Kiri appeared to have ready made killers for genin. That white haired Hozuki boy had flashed an eerie smile at the cameras, displaying his pointed shark-like teeth, as he had walked up to the stage. Unsurprisingly for a Kiri genin, he was wearing a sword strapped to his back. The signature Suika Transformation of the Hozuki clan would likely be a handful. Kakashi made sure to mentally note the boy as a contender.

Iwa was sending the Tsuchikage’s Granddaughter, a surprisingly bold and dangerous pick for the old fence sitter. If the girl possessed the Kekkei Tota then the games would likely be a forgone conclusion. He found it doubtful, Iwa had two jinchuriki, the Ichibi wasn’t worth risking an ability as rare as that. No matter what the kunoichi would surely be extremely dangerous. He also made note of the large male Genin, who could likely give an Akimichi a run for their money. While his size was his most notable factor, Kakakshi’s attention was drawn to his carefree nature, a rare quality for a candidate. No trace of nervousness, determination or fear. Quite unique indeed. 

By comparison Kumo’s candidates seemed positively average. Both had swords strapped to their backs (seemingly a lot of kenjutsu experts in this year’s games) but beyond that there didn’t seem to be anything to distinguish them beyond a typical year’s candidates. Both clearly displayed the nerves and determination one would expect from a candidate. By the standards of the Games they were normal. While many might right off the duo after observing somes of the candidates from the other villages, Kakashi knew better. Normalcy could be the perfect cover for the most dangerous of shinobi.

Then there was Suna. If the Hozuki boy had the eyes of a killer, then the jinchuriki’s eyes were those of a mass murderer. Sabaku no Gaara, even through the screen Kakashi could see the blood lust radiating off of him. Honestly he was half surprised the red head hadn’t murder his kunoichi counterpart right there on the stage. Even with a batch of candidates likely handpicked to kill him, and everyone in the arena targeting him, the jinchuriki had to be the heavy favorite to emerge victorious. 

With this thought Kakashi looked towards a clock on the wall. Huh the Reaping should have started thirty minutes ago. He was kind of disappointed no ANBU had been able to track him down and drag him to the stage yet. He had likely kept everyone waiting long enough, and quickly karwarimied to the stage just outside the building. It took less than a second for the Third Hokage and every other alert official to send him disapproving glares, which he promptly ignored as he searched the crowd for five specific Genin. 

Genin were not the most patient bunch and neither were civilians, as the crowd was growing quite restless from the delay. As the soon to be mentor to candidates, the Hokage had likely insisted that the reaping didn’t start until Kakashi got there. While looking for his Genin, his eyes spotted Gai with the other jounin instructors, but he shrugged off the look of shock his spandex adorned rival was sending him. It didn’t take long to find Naruto and Sasuke. The two were standing together with some of the other rookies from their year. Naruto was hardly inconspicuous with his orange jumpsuit and was clearly making some sort of scene to Sasuke’s displeasure. Tracking down Sakura wasn’t much more difficult, as her defining pink hair also stood out even in a crowd this size. She was paying attention to the stage and unlike the other two, had noticed his sudden appearance. He would have to give her credit for her awareness. 

Kakashi tuned out the Hokage as the ceremony officially got under way. It was a speech he had heard dozens of times before, and would likely hear several more times again. He struggled to find the two future candidates and while cursing the fact that he likely had the most noticeable Genin team in the entire shinobi continent, he missed the Hokage draw and read off a name from the kunoichi pool. 

“I volunteer!”

Yakumo Kurama had been standing closer to the stage than Kakashi had expected. It made sense in a way, the brown haired girl was reputedly frail. As he watched her struggle up the steps, he spared a look back toward the jounin senseis searching for Kurenai. After reading Yakumo’s file he could understand why the Yuhi hadn’t been selected for mentorship, though he still believed that a mentor with a personal connection to at least one of the candidates would likely have been better than him. Strangely enough Kurenai was nowhere to be found. Perhaps the Sandiame had covered all his bases by ensuring that the genjutsu mistriss was out of the village for the reaping on a minor mission.

It seemed strange to send a girl with no skill in ninjutsu or taijutsu to the Games, but if half of what her file said about her genjutsu ability was true, then she was a dangerous wildcard who could help upend the Games. Her unpredictable nature and apparent mental instability made her an asset the village could afford to lose. Distracted by his thoughts Kakashi once again missed out on Sandaime’s next announcement. 

“I volunteer,” a cheerful voice rang out through the crowd. 

Sai, last name unknown, Danzo’s operative climbed the stage wearing the least convincing smile Kakashi had ever seen. Sighing while placing his face in his palm, he realized that was something he would likely have to work with the boy on. How could a mentor teach a kid to fake a smile without revealing his own face? Maybe one of his Genin could help. As the pair made the unison sign and received the Hokage’s congratulations, Kaskashi slowly walked over to make his introductions.

“Yo, I’m Kakashi Hatake and I’ll be your mentor for the next few weeks,” he said with what he knew was an actually convincing fake grin. 

The girl nodded towards him and keeping his fake smile the boy responded “It’s a pleasure Captain Kakashi.” Yeah that smile would need a lot of work.

As the samurai approached them, Kakashi saw his normal genin struggle their way up the stage. He had told them to prepare the night before and to find him as soon as the reaping was over with the justification that they would have a mission right afterwards. While technically true he had purposely left out the details, they weren't quite professional enough yet to be trusted with keeping secret the information that their sensei would be involved in the Games before his role as this year’s mentor was made public. At least they all had their packs ready, though he suspected that Naruto likely had more ramen cups than essential provisions. Kakashi groaned for what felt like the millionth time in the last few days. This was going to be a long mission. 

Chapter Text

Land of Iron

Karin couldn’t stop shivering despite the nearby fire as she tried to brush the snowflakes out of her red hair. It never snowed in Kusa, the grassy plains of her so-called ‘home’ had a rather temperate climate. Having rarely left the borders of the small country, she was rather unprepared for the cold mountains of the Land of Iron.   

However the weather was nothing compared to her frosty traveling companions. Their samurai escorts hadn’t said a thing to her since they left Kusa. Covered head to toe in armor she wouldn't have known they were even human if she couldn’t sense their chakra, which felt sharp and alert. The samurai were certainly decent bodyguards, though they seemed unnecessary at this point.    

No one was going to attack them right outside the Land of Iron’s capital and it wasn’t like she could exactly run away at this point. Even with her sensory abilities she wouldn’t make it two klicks before her ‘mentor’ caught up to her.    

Speaking of the asshole, he was still in his tent going over some strategy with Muku. They did that pretty much everyday and basically arrived at the same conclusion every time. The two of them would avoid the cornucopia and stick to the outer areas of the arena, use Karin’s sensory abilities to avoid the other Candidates till the end and if Muku ever got injured she’d heal him by letting him bite her. If all went to plan, a fresh rested Muku would be able to fight the tired, battle weary jinchuriki and win the games. Not for the first time she cursed Suna’s jinchuriki, without his entrance into the games she probably wouldn’t be in his mess. 

Of course this plan, originally cooked by the village elders, assumed she would die. They didn't care about her, she was an outsider, barely tolerated for her clan’s unique abilities, and completely expendable.    

“The gawkers are back.” 

Karin nearly jumped at the sound of Muku's voice, she must have been really distracted by her own thoughts to have not sensed the pale, pony tailed brunette boy sneaking up on her.    

“Sorry what was that,” she responded, adjusting her glasses as a guise of hiding her embarrassed blush.    

Muku smirked, raising his hand upwards he pointed towards a small group of people at the camp’s perimeter, held back by a pair of samurai, dressed in fine and most certainly expensive robes.    

“Oh...uh I guess they are.”   

Karin must have been more distracted than she thought to have not noticed the group of...she wanted to say merchants? In her defence none of their chakras were particularly noteworthy. While their clothing was certainly high quality it didn’t quite seem to match the wealth that nobles or minor lords would typically display. These were hardly the first set of ‘gawkers’ at their camp as Muku put it. The Kusa genin and their retinue had been camped outside of the capital at their designated site for a few days now. None of the candidates were allowed into the city until the opening ceremonies, which couldn’t be held until all the candidates arrived. While Kusa isn’t particularly close to the Land of Iron, the village is much closer to the neutral nation than some of the other participating countries. 

Many wealthy and powerful individuals traveled to the Land of Iron for the Games to enjoy the festivities, gamble and more importantly show off their wealth and power to their contemporaries. Groups of ‘gawkers’ were generally rich people too impatient for the games to start, who toured the various candidates’ campsites hoping for an early look at the Genin.    

Karin had been introduced to this practice on their very first day at the campsite, when a fat man in purple robes strode into their camp and grabbed her by the face to inspect. She gave the creep a quick kick to his nether regions. Her mentor actually had to apologize to the bastard for that, though admittedly there was something satisfying in seeing the jerk bend over backwards.     

“Wonder what's up with the papers,” Muku said, once again snapping her out of her thoughts.   

Karin scrutinized the gawkers closely and saw that they were all looking at cheap pieces of parchment.   

“Those are tour maps,” she realized.   

“Hah, well that’s just business sense, hope whoever’s selling those is making a decent ryo.”    

“How can you laugh at this? They're treating us like zoo animals.”     

“Not zoo animals,” Muku laughed. “More like celebrities.” To Karin’s surprise he started weaving hand signs.   

“Katon Onidoro!”    

Several fireballs shaped like demon heads formed around Muku, as he proceeded to shoot them into the sky resulting in several firework-like explosions. The startled samurai quickly realized the disturbance was the result of one of their charges practicing, while the gawkers clapped and cheered at the display. Having satiated their need for excitement, the gawkers quickly moved on, as a smiling Muku waved to them goodbye.    

“GIVE ME A LITTLE WARNING NEXT TIME YOU BASTARD,” Karin shouted at her partner for the Games. 

  “Sorry,” he sheepishly responded, rubbing the back of his head with his hand. “Just wanted to make a good impression. Never know, one of them might be a sponsor.”    

“That may be Muku, but you shouldn’t display your jutsu so openly. One of these tourists could easily be a spy from another village seeking information on the competition for the Games,” said Zosui, as the Genin’s mentor emerged from the tent. He glared, standing tall with his muscular physique towering over the pair.    

“Y-yes Zosui-sensei,” Muku stuttered.    

“Maintain vigilance, our village has entrusted you with this vital task and I will not have you risk its prosperity performing for fools.”    

“Yes, sir,” the downcasted genin replied.    

“Now come along boy, I have a few more thoughts on how to deal with the jinchuriki.”    

Zosui guided the boy back into the tent without even sparing a glance back at Karin. She knew that in her mentor’s mind she was just a tool, a weapon that Muku could use to acquire the bijuu the village so desperately seeked. She hated the man, who essentially served as her overseer in the village, Zosui who only gott this prestigious position as result of recommending her and this strategy for the Games. She hated the village elders who agreed to the idea of turning her into a sacrificial lamb.    

She wished she could hate Muku too. There was a warmth in his chakra, not the burning dangerous intensity she would be able to feel from his father, Mui, the Master of Hozuki Castle. She wished she hated Muku, she truly did, because she’s a survivor. Someway, somehow she was going to live through this. Surviving would be easier if she hated the boy she would likely have to kill to win. 

A more aware Karin noticed a strong chakra approaching the camp. It felt as sharp and alert as the guards patrolling the camp’s perimeter. Her suspicions were confirmed when a lone samurai came out of the woods and approached his counterparts at the camps’ edge. They had a short, curt conversation, rather typical for a samurai as she had gathered so far, before the samurai who she assumed was a messner returned to the forest making his way from the camp

 As he exited, one of the guards walked into the heart of the camp, steadily making his way directly towards her. He stopped just a few feet in front of her. 

“Your mentor is in his tent shinobi” he spoke authoritatively, more a statement of fact than a question.

“Uh, yes sir Samurai…sir,” Karin replied rather lamley. “They’re going over their strategy again.”

The Samurai stared at the tent for several seconds. While she struggled to read him under all of his armor, she believed he was mentalyy debating his next actions. Seemingly coming to a decision, he turned back to her. 

“Inform you companions that the rettinue from Hoshi have arrived, all 27 candidates are now present. The opening ceremony will begin tomorrow.”

Chapter Text

Sai didn't understand the need for pageantry. Well maybe that wasn't entirely true. Ceremony could instill an important sense of structure within the ranks, allowing leaders to display their superiority to their subordinates. After all, the Hokage held both a practical role as the military commander of the village and a ceremonial one.

But as the samurai waved in the carriage holding the Kumo Genin, he could not understand the necessity for all these frivaltries. A parade was just an impractical waste of both time and resources. When they were still camped outside of the city, Hatake had explained that the parade displayed the candidates for all the visiting merchants, nobles, and lords (or as Lord Danzo put it, sources of vital income) to see.

However, why did they have to go on display? Surely all these potential clients would observe the Genin and their skills at the games themselves. It was something that he felt determined to decipher, along with why his pink and yellowed hair attendants were so infuriated with him. At least Sai thought they were infuriated, the ability to consistently read human emotions still eluded him.

"KIRI!," yelled the Samurai at the gate, as the next carriage entered the city. A smiling sharp toothed silvered haired boy and a short brown haired girl rode off ahead, smiling and waving, while a booming voice in the distance announced their name to the spectators lining the main street. Sai wondered if he should smile when it was their turn, mentally berating himself for not practicing the expression in the morning.

The shout of "KONOHA" signaled that very turn, yet the samurai responsible for driving the two white horses pulling the carriage made no movement to start their ride. Another shout of "KONOHA" rang out again, a bit frustrated this time if Sai was right.

"Sorry, sorry we were just addressing a couple of final details," came the frantic apologies of his masked mentor, who hurriedly assisted Sai's 'partner' into the carriage.

Mentally he blamed the pink one for this delay, she had insisted on helping the Kurama Clan girl dress for the Opening Festivities. He hadn't needed any help from Uzumaki or Uchiha with his ceremonial kimono, a simple black garment with the symbol of a leaf on the back. Most Genin were wearing something similar. The girl’s garment was slightly more extravagant, an orange and pink kimono that shared both Konoha’s crest and that of the Kurama clan. Even so putting on some clothes and arranging hair shouldn’t have taken this long. They had a clearly defined schedule after all, Konoha's spot as the third set of Genin in the Games had been known for a year.

As the reigning victors Kumo went first, followed by each of the remaining Five Great Nations in order of total victories at the Games. Then the minor nations in an order derived from continuous participation in recent Games, past victories, and just randomly closer to the end of the line. For one of those villages, a little lack of organization would be understandable. For Konoha, it was unacceptable.

His mentor for the Games, Hatake had a reputation for tardiness known even among even the rank and file members of ROOT. Clearly he had passed a trait that left one oblivious to the current time onto his students. A horrible affliction for any shinobi. However the man's skill was undeniable and thus he was allowed his little defects. In Sai's opinion the three Genin serving as his and the Kurama girl's attendants, could not afford such luxuries.

He looked over towards his partner as she at last settled into the cart. Yakumo Kurama, he had read her file and committed it to memory as any ROOT operative would have. No affinity for ninjutsu or taijutsu, only capable of utilizing genjutsu. He could see the logic in Lord Danzo's decision, both of their styles matched up well, both of jutsu utilized art, and she was expendable as her defects would likely prevent her from ever being a reliable shinobi.

There aren’t many methods for overpowering a jinchuriki, powerful genjutsu would give them a chance, and if the reports were accurate, Kurama's genjutsu could be up to the task. Possibly. There was a risk factor, a lot more was being left to chance on this assignment than Sai was used to. She was frail, too frail to be allowed into the academy, something that was clearly evident all throughout their journey. Haruno had spent the entire expedition helping the girl with basic tasks. At least she was taking the role of attendant professionally, compared to the other two.

As the driver steered the horses into the city, Sai couldn't help remembering the last words Lord Danzo gave him in regards to his partner:

"When the time comes for her to die, or if you determine that defeat is inevitable, your final assignment is to destroy her brain."

That thought was pushed to the back of his mind, as they were greeted by the throngs of screaming spectators along the streets. Dimly, he could hear the call behind him for Iwa’s team to proceed.

He had read that large crowds could make people nervous. He turned to smile at Yakumo, for smiling was an established method of reassuring people. From the glare he received from her, perhaps that information was inaccurate.

The cart was slow, at least by a shinobi’s standards. Though it seemed faster than the other carts as the samurai attempted to catch up to the Kiri team. It was a fairly smooth ride, the streets had been cleared of any rocks or litter in anticipation of the parade, though flowers and other items thrown from the spectators littered the streets.

By now Suna and Taki had surely begun their own entrance into the city. Sai had been instructed to only look forwards during the parade, to look back would be a sign of weakness.

He felt a tug on his sleeve, and looked towards his ‘partner’ again. She wasn’t looking back at him, instead still waving towards the audience members as they went by. The hand on his arm was for stability, not to get his attention. Frail indeed.

Further into the city they went. Sai mentally made notes of every potential escape route he could see, though his sight was obscured by the masses, leaving him with very information gathered. Not that there was any need for that information, fleeing the city for any reason would be a black stain on the village, ROOT and Lord Danzo. Still it helped him pass the time.

At long last the cart arrived at the square in front of the towering fortress at the center of the city, the most famous landmark in this country of Samurai. Here the crowds were largest, with tall temporary wooden bleachers set up, and throngs of people standing on top of nearby building hoping to catch a glimpse. He quickly noticed the cameras, whose recording would be playing in theaters around the continent until the Games themselves began.

One by one the Genin in their carriages arrived in the square, forming a semi circle around the entrance, the odd numbered carriages moving to the left, the even ones to the right. As the third carriage to enter the city this put Konoha directly between the team from Kumo and his target.

Here he could afford to look around as many of the other competitors took this chance to size up their competition. Sai had already studied and memorized photographs of the other candidates, yet this first opportunity for a live observance offered opportunity for new insights.

His eyes had been drawn first to his target, Sabaku no Gaara. Sai quickly realized that he wasn’t alone. Almost every single Genin (plus a few of the more aware members of the crowd) was staring straight at the cart carrying the team from Suna. The girl standing next to Gaara was shaking, a poor display for a shinobi representing their village. Was it nerves from the crowd, or fear of her jinchuriki partner? Didn’t matter, she would fold under pressure quickly. Not a threat.

Gaara himself was looking straight ahead with what could only be considered a bored expression, ignoring the dozens of eyes of those planning to kill him. He looked shorter than Sai had mentallly visualized. Despite his indifference, the boy still seemed alert, ready to strike or defend at a moment’s notice, a true shinobi.

Just because the redhead was the primary threat did not mean the others could be taken lightly. The pair from Kumo, seemed well poised and in sync in their brief movements. The rumor was they were teammates of Samui, the previous year’s victor, they’d likely make a lethal duo.

Unlike the rest, Tsuchikage’s granddaughter represents at least something of a known quantity. ROOT had a report on the kunoichi, accurately predicting her selection for this year’s Games. That didn’t make her any less dangerous, dealing with a Yoton user would be tricky. Her massive partner would alp surely be a threat, based on appearances alone he may have the most sheer physical strength of any of the candidates.

The Hozuki boy from Kiri and his partner, likely another kekkei genkai user, represented surprising selections. Kekkei genkei were being eliminated with brutal force all over the bloody mist. However it seemed cutthroat practically had overcome ideology in this particular case.

Sai had less time to observe the 17 remaining participants from the minor villages, but a few stood out from a quick glance. Bright red hair girl, likely signifying an Uzumaki from Kusa, a tall Ame boy with two scars running down the right side of his face, there’s experience there, the sole representative of Nadeshiko, the only village with an exception that allows them to send a singular kunoichi, the pair from Hoshi, rumors were the village had resumed their unique training, and lastly a boy dressed in bandages from Oto with a metal contraption on his arm.

Oto represents a village of intrigue, still the youngest military power among their contemporaries, the village generated incredible interest when they won the games with their first ever entry, though poor results in subsequent years led to that interest waning to a small degree.

BONG

BONG

BONG

With three rungs of a bell the entire crowd became silent. Above the parapets of the fortress emerged an elderly man with a long gray mustache and goatee, with bandages wrapped around his forehead. Mifune: the commanding general of the Tetsu no Kuni’s military forces and the ceremonial administor of the Games.

His booming voice commanded respect, Sai could understand how this man became a military leader.

“Welcome one and all to the 73rd Annual Genin Games. This year we have 27 highly skilled candidates representing fourteen different nations. The largest assembly of candidates in the history of the Games. To the young men and women standing before me, I give you my respect, there is bravery and honor in fighting for one’s nation.”

Mifune gave a slight pause, for the briefest moment Sai noticed the general glancing down towards Gaara, before continuing.

“We have entered an era of peace since the end of the 3rd Great Shinobi War. As we fight in the arena, let us strive to ensure that that is where the fighting stays. That this battlefield should be the only battlefield our continent should have to endure.”

A slight smattering of applause, but also several whispers emerging from the crowd. This was not a typical opening ceremony remark Sai gathered.

“With that in mind, I officially declared the 73rd Genin Games Open!” This time the crowd roared at Mifune’s words, and music began to play. The gates to the fortress opened and one by one, in the same order they entered the city, the carriages entered the fortress.

Chapter Text

This was pointless.

THIS was pointless.

The Games are supposed to be the ultimate battlefield, the perfect place for Gaara to prove his own existence. Even now surrounded by so many potential victims, the young jincuriki could feel his blood lust boil. Yet he had to wait. Forced to go all these ceremonies, distractions from the violence he was promised.

This "Ball" served as the latest such distraction. Typically a Kage's children would grow up attending several of these events, but Gaara wasn't the typical son of a Kazekage. It had taken Baki two full hours to convince him to put on the ceremonial kimono, a dark green garment with the kanji for wind printed in white on the back, and Suna's insignia on the front. He already had to wear one for the opening parade, why did he have to wear a different one for a private dinner and a ball? Explaining that no weapons were allowed ("Yes Gaara your gourd counts as a weapon") in the Opening Ball was an even more difficult conversation. At last Gaara acquiesced to a compromise that would allow him to discreetly keep his sand armor, as long as none of the samurai noticed.

Now he found himself waiting in the entrance way of Suna's suite, standing with his similarly well dressed brother and mentor. Like Gaara, both wore a green kimono, however neither's dressing were adorned with any symbols. However unlike the genin, Baki still wore his forehead protector. It was honestly a little weird to see Kankuro without his normal cat suit (though Kankuro would always be enraged whenever someone called it that). It was even weirder seeing him without his normal make up. While Gaara would never consciously acknowledge this, his older brother bore a striking resemblance to their father without it.

Waiting for a week to enter the city, waiting now for this ball to begin, waiting for the Games, all of it so far was just so pointless. It would be another week before he could enter the arena and at last satisfy his urges. But for now he would wait.

"Ack, what's taking them so long". As always Kankuro was quick to complain. While Gaara silenced the puppet master with a glare, he couldn't help but agree with him. Yet another thing that was making him wait. Gaara did not like to kept waiting.

“Achoo”

“You alright Sasori.”

“I’m fine, someone must be thinking of me.”

“WAIT, PUPPETS CAN SNEEZE?”

"Come on."

At last the door to Matsuri's room opened, and out came Temari practically dragging the Candidate out of the room. It was Termari's job after all as Matsuri's attendant to get her ready, or in this case, force her into the outside world when her courage has abandoned her. Gaara had not once been impressed by the brown haired genin since his father drew her name from the lottery. The girl was clearly terrified off him (rightfully so) and even now seemed like she was on the brink of breaking into tears. Even if she hadn't been selected for the Games, he couldn't imagine her lasting long as a shinobi. 

Thrust forward by Temari, Matsuri stumbled towards Gaara. She wore a dress in the same shade of green as Gaara's kimono, with matching symbols on the front back. Temari's gown was similar, though like Kankuro's it lacked the symbols the Candidates were wearing. 

As Matsuri straightened herself out, she took the rare risk of glancing up from the floor and looking Gaara directly in the eyes. 

"S-s-sorry for making you wait Lord Gaara." Another quick glare had the girl fumbling and looking away. With his 'partner' finally emerging from the false safety of her room, Gaara strode forth opening the door of the suite and entering the hallway. The rest of the Suna shinobi, hastened to follow him out the door, with Temari once again dragging the reluctant Matsuri along with her. 

As soon as they entered the hallway, they found themselves flanked by four samurai. The only time the samurai had been absent since he had volunteered for the Games were the brief hours he had been in the suite. The whole hallway was lined with more samurai as they protected the Candidates from potential espionage and sabotage. Each village had its own wing in the fortress, and between the samurai and countless wards, even the most talented infiltrators would struggle to come anywhere close to another village's suite. Though that didn't always stop some ninja from trying. 

As they walked along the hall toward elevator shaft that would take them down to the private room on the second floor where all the Candidates would share dinner together, Gaara briefly looked outside a passing window, observing a large crowd of nobles and merchants waiting in line to enter the open fortress for the larger ball. At the end of the day this whole celebration was really for their sakes than it was for the candidates. 

With how much they had been delayed, Gaara expected they would be the last Candidates to arrive. After all, punctuality is vital to any shinobi's success. Yet to his surprise there was another team aboard the elevator when the hand-powered lift arrived at their floor. Already aboard stood the Candidates from Konoha, wearing identical clothing to him and Matsuri, except in the Land of Fire's traditional red colors. Both Candidates were noticeably pale, the boy offered him a fake smile, while the girl merely glared at the Suna contingent. Their silver haired, masked mentor offered a much more convincing smile, while Gaara barely made note of the two Konoha attendants; a raven haired boy and an oddly pink haired girl. 

The red clad mentor looked up towards Baki, and once again smiled, crinkling his mask in greeting, "Looks like we'll be sharing."

"Hatake," Baki responded firmly, acknowledging his counterpart from the Land of Fire. 

So this was the legendary Kakashi Hatake then, the youngest ever winner of the Games. Gaara quickly reevaluated the two enemy Candidates. Any genin mentored by the Copy Ninja would surely be a notable foe indeed. 

Gaara could once again feel his anticipation growing for the coming slaughter. With worthy opponents like this, he could surely prove his own existence. Matsuri backed away from him sharply as his blood lust began to radiate as did all the other genin in the elevator, except for the boy candidate from Konoha who continued his fake smile. The two jounin and the many samurai in the elevator would remain tense all the way down to the fortresses' second floor. At last the elevator stopped and all four Candidates, their attendants, and their samurai escorts exited the lift. Their mentors, along with two samurai, remained in the elevator, they would go down to the first floor, straight to the Opening Ball. The Candidates private dinner would be a genin and samurai only affair.

"Good luck kids," Hatake called out as the elevator began it's descent. Baki merely nodded towards Temari and Kankuro before disappearing from view. 

The samurai quickly separated the two groups of genin, and started moving them down the hall of the second floor, the Konoha team going first. This was a fairly short walk as the room where they would all be dining was fairly close the elevator with two more samurai standing in front of the wooden door. Upon seeing the genin, one of the samurai opened the door while the other quickly rushed both groups in, closing the door behind them. 

The stone room itself was rather sparse. No windows, the only decorations a series of torches on the wall, a second wooden door at the rooms' side, presumably leading to a makeshift kitchen where their meal was being prepared. In the middle of the room was a long wooden table that was filled with the other candidates, all of whom were sitting in complete silence. The boys on the near side of the table, while their kunoichi counterparts were on the opposite side. Behind each Candidate, standing against the walls, was their respective attendant. While the Candidates themselves may have been silent, Gaara could detect many soft conversations going on in the background.

Temari and Kankuro, along with the Konoha attendants hurried to their designated spots on each side of the room, and Gaara could immediately detect his siblings' low voices join these conversations. Gaara himself moved toward his own spot near the center of table after noting Suna's symbol carved on the back of an empty wooden chair. Matsuri followed hesitantly as she moved to sit on the other side of the table, directly across from him, as did the Konoha representatives whose spots were next to their's. 

As Gaara sat down he made note that the other Candidates were all dressed in the colors of their respective nations. In the very center of the table sat the yellow garbed Candidates from Kumo, to their right Kiri in blue, Iwa in brown, an empty chair with Taki's waterfall carved on the back (someone else was even later than they were), Ame in navy, Shimo in white, Tani in Silver and the lone kunoichi from Nadeshiko in pink. To Kumo's left, after Konoha and Suna came the light green Kusa, the gray Oto, the orange Ishi, and finally the purple Hoshi. 

Upon seeing 24 of his 26 opponents all in one place, Gaara at last understood the point of this little dinner. It would give him his first chance for an extended look to study all of his prey in close quarters at one time. 

He wasn't alone in this evaluation, as every single candidate, except for Matsuri who was looking down at her own feet, was studying the red headed jinchuriki. Not for long as behind him the door slammed open, grabbing the attention of every single person in the room, even his. 

"Hi everyone, I want to make 100 friends," shouted the new entrant in the room. 

The sear on the pork was perfect, the meat itself was tender and juicy. They had clearly slaughtered a prize pig to prepare the chops. The side vegetables had been seasoned masterfully, and a rich aroma wafted from the little bowls of broth. Altogether an exceptional meal. 

Sadly Kurotsuchi hadn't been able to enjoy any of it. 

"Have you tried the peppers yet Kusu, they're soooo goooood," exclaimed the mint haired girl sitting next to her, which bizarrely matches with her dress. 

From the moment she had burst through the door, Fu had done everything possible to drive Kurotsuchi insane. The whole playful, friendly, naive act was clearly the single greatest act of deceit she had seen in her all of her days as a Genin. Did she have a lot of experience with enemy deception tactics? Not really, at the end of the day as talented as she is Kurotsuchi's still a genin. But still, the Taki's genin performance was ridiculous.

"Kusu, have you tried the peppers? Kusu? Kusu?"

That nickname was also driving Kurotsuchi crazy. She had been taken off guard when Fu first entered the room and plopped right down in the designated seat next to her. If she had been ready perhaps Kurotsuchi would have stayed silent when Fu asked her her name. Instead she cursed her lack of foresight for sharing that detail, as it took Fu a mere two seconds to start calling her 'Kusu'. According to her, friends were supposed to give each other nicknames. Kurotsuchi had no idea how she had given her the idea that they were friends. For Kami's sake, didn't the girl know that their nations were historically enemies. 

"Oh man the eggplant is just as good! Kusu you've gotta try the eggplant," Fu exclaimed as she shoveled piece of the vegetable from the platter onto Kurotsuchi's plate. Fu had done this with every dish she had deemed delicious, which was all of them. Kurotsuchi had at first thought her new "bestie" was trying to poison her, but after all this time together, she was coming closer and closer to the horrific realization that all of this was genuine. 

Kurotsuchi could have tolerated the nickname, the food and the complete lack of social graces if Fu hadn't been talking non-stop to her for two hours. Two hours! She was so distracted she hadn't had any opportunities whatsoever to observe any of the other Candidates. The constant noise prevented her from attempting to listen in on any of whispered conversations of the attendants, who unlike the Candidates moved freely around the room gathering into small clumps.

She could only hope Akatsuchi was able to pick up something. A dinner's often the perfect place to pick up information on a target, a lot can be learned about another's personality from the way they ate and composed themselves in a social setting. The more one knew about their personality, the easier it would be to predict what kind of actions they may take on the battlefield.

There wasn't as much talk at the table as there was on the walls, but everyone had spoken at least a little in an effort to trick information out of their competitors. Well except for the Suna pair, but the clear reasoning for each of their silences still revealed information about them both. Now if only Kurotsuchi had been to gain any other intelligence at all during the whole affair. But no she had really only gained information to form a profile on one other genin this whole time.

She had learned a lot about Fu, that she was excitable and easily distracted. While that could be useful to know going into the Arena, it was also something she could learned have sitting on the opposite end of table with how jubilantly loud her neighbor had been.

"Oh Kusu, they're bringing out dessert, man I hope they have mochi. Have you ever tried mochi?"

Okay dessert, they were finally at dessert. That meant this dinner would finally be over soon. Then just a quick stroll to the main hall, a short dance with Akatsuchi to show off to all the nobles and rich men in attendance, then this night would finally be over.

Kurotsuchi had kept her composure the entire meal, no signs of weakness, no outward signal that she would crack and lose control as a result of the constant annoyance. Had someone acted like this back in Iwa she probably would have bashed them over the head within a few minutes. Not here though. Above all else she was a ninja and this was just a part of the mission. She could keep her cool. She was a professional. 

"They do have Mochi, oh you've got to try one!"

"WON'T YOU JUST SHUT THE HELL UP!"

To Kurotsuchi's surprise this outburst didn't come from her own mouth but from one of Iwa's other neighbors at the table. The Hozuki boy from Kiri (his name was Suigetsu she recalled) was standing, leaning over the table and shouting towards Fu. "YOU HAVE NOT STOPPED TALKING THIS ENTIRE TIME".

As the target of the annoying bits of conversation, she hadn't considered that somebody else might be equally annoyed as her. Though maybe she shouldn't have been so surprised that a boy lacked her self control.

An angry Fu quickly joined in the shouting, standing as well, "DON'T TELL ME TO SHUT UP, YOU SHUT UP!" With this she slammed her fist into the table, the force of which knocked a small bowl of broth lying between her and Kurotsuchi off the table. Kurotsuchi quickly jumped up to avoid any splatter, a stained dress would make a bad first impression on the shallow sponsors. Sadly this action was perceived to be her jumping up in defense of her newfound best friend. 

Suigestu sneered towards her, "Oh here comes Iwa, fucking backstabbers!"

"Don't you talk to her like that!" An enraged Fu was leaning closer and closer to Suigestu. It wouldn't take much longer for the two genin to engage in an all out brawl. 

Luckily Kurotscuhi wasn't the only one to notice this as both of the screaming fools were grabbed from behind by two samurai each, and dragged out through the two separate doors kicking and screaming obscenities at each other. 

As the doors shut behind them a cold silence settled over the room. Suddenly Kurotuschi realized everyone in the room was looking at her, as she was still standing. Blushing as she sat down, like with the meal she found herself unable to enjoy the silence as a result of the embarrassment. Gradually all eyes turned back to their own plates as the candidates started to eat their dessert. Except for the eyes of Suigestu's partner, a Funato kunoichi (or maybe pirate would be a better moniker) by the name of Seiren, who was sitting next to Kurotsuchi on her other side and glaring sharp daggers her way.

Iwa and Kiri would never be on friendly terms, but making enemies before the games began was certainly not the best idea. 

A few minutes later, the boy from Konoha turned to Gaara and joyfully asked "So how many people have you killed?" 

The sounds of two attendants slapping their own faces with the palms of their hands could be heard around the room. Clearly every other village's genin were insane. 

"Trust me Sai is a natural, almost as talented as I was at that age," Kakashi said to an elderly nobleman from the Land of Lightning. 

Kakashi would rather go eights rounds with an A-Rank missing ninja than schmooze rich people out of their money. Though wearing a mask his entire life did help him master the art of bull shitting. He might not have liked being a salesman, but like most things he did, he was quite good at it. It's not arrogance if it's accurate. 

"That's high praise, though if I recall you were quite a big younger during your own games," responded the lord. 

"Well think about how good I must have been at his age then." That elicited a fake chuckle from Kakashi and a real one from the nobleman. 

"Ha, well I'll keep an eye on the young lad then, but what about the girl does she have the same talent as the boy?" the nobleman asked, raising a white eyebrow in the process. 

"I wouldn't have decided to take on a mentorship role if I didn't think we had a pair of potential Victors in our Candidates." Kakashi felt disgusted at himself with that statement. Briefly he wondered if he could have helped other candidates over the years survive the Games but quickly banished that thought from his mind. Considering his complete inability to connect with Sai or Yakumo this entire time, he doubted he could have helped any of them. So there were some things he wasn't good at after all. Still these kids were his comrades, and he would do whatever he could to protect his comrades. At the moment that meant doing whatever he could to secure some sponsor money.  

"If that's the case then you and I may be speaking again quite soon."

"Thank you Lord Kuzan." The two bowed and parted ways. Lord Kuzan walked away grabbing a glass off of a tray from a nearby server. He was likely heading off in search of another mentor to try and get a grasp of their Candidates. That or to talk to some other lords or businessmen.

Finding good sponsors could be the difference between life and death, as Kakashi could attest to. The well timed delivery of a pack of flash bombs or a medical kit, had saved the lives of numerous Candidates in the past. These gifts were exorbitantly expensive and would often require a few sponsors to chip in a portion of the cash. The villages themselves were forbidden from funneling money to aid their Candidates, and Kakakshi wouldn't be able to solicit donations from any resident or citizen from the Land of Fire. That made things a little harder, but not much.

A Victor essentially owed a life debt to their sponsor, and having a powerful shinobi owe you a favor would be valuable for any enterprise regardless of which nation the ninja came from. Plus a bit of prestige always followed those associated with a Victor. 

He'd been pitching these potential sponsors for a good two hours now. Several hundred of them were in the Great Hall with several hundred more likely wandering around outside in the courtyard. Probably more value within the fortress this evening than any other location in the world. 

Kakashi himself grabbed his third glass of the evening from a passing waiter. The drink was purely for the sake of appearances, he hadn't drunk a single drop of alcohol all night, dumping the contents of his glass into whichever one of the numerous flower arrangements that adorned the Hall was nearby, pretty good chance most of the plants would be dead by morning. If samurai didn't hate shinobi, then their florists surely did.

He doubted any of the other mentors had drunk a drop either. Well except maybe Shibuki. The Taki mentor was clearly in over his head. While the Chunin wasn't the only Victor among the mentors, he was the most recent one at the Ball and as a result probably got more attention than a Taki representative typically received. If the young man needed a little bit of liquid courage to steady his resolve, who was he to judge. Not like he didn't have his own vices, as he subconsciously reached for his Icha Icha book which he had purposefully left in the suite. 

Ao, the third and final victor among this year's mentors was busy pitching his Candidates to a shipping magnate from the Land of Waves. Kakashi had talked with the businessman earlier and it hadn't taken long for him to decudce that the short man was only here to gamble and be seen, and had no serious interest in sponsoring any of the Genin. Ao would likely arrive at the same conclusion in a short while and find reason to excuse himself. 

Most of the other mentors were one of their candidates' Jounin-sensei which was pretty typical most years. Wearing their nations' colors, they all stood out in the crowd which is generally the opposite of what a ninja would typically strive for. Talking with one of them would be taboo, they're here for the nobles' sake not for each other. Kakashi knew all of his counterparts from the Five Great Nations by reputation. He'd ran into Baki of the Wind Blade earlier in the elevator, the giant son of the Tsuchikage was likely here to look out for his daughter, but the most notable name, even more notable than Kakashi's own, had to belong to the representative from Kumo.  

Killer Bee, the Raikage's Brother, but more importantly in this case the jinchuriki for the Hachibi, certainly cut a figure that coincided with his mighty reputation. It was clear that even if Kumo were sending a typical contingent of Candidates this year, they were coming in with the full intention of emerging victorious. Who better to plan the defeat of a jinchuriki than another jinchuriki, one with full control over his Bijuu at that. 

Kakashi was once again glad that he left Naruto back in the suite. Only one attendant for each Candidate could attend the private dinner and he certainly lacked the...tact of his teammates that was necessary for such a complex social situation. While he could've of brought his final genin with him to the Ball, Kakashi had a job to do, and keeping Naruto out of trouble would of made that a lot harder. Besides with Gaara's impending arrival, having three jinchuriki in a room probably wasn't the best idea. 

(He'd have to get a soup bone from the kitchen to thank Bull for literally genin-sitting and yet another bowl of ramen to ease over any ill feelings Naruto might have)

Sakura and Sasuke were definitely the right calls to attend the dinner. While he had been scrounging up sponsor money the two had hopefully been working on their job of securing an alliance by talking with the other attendants. There were really so few opportunities to interact with the supporting members of the other villages before the Games began. The samurai would let him send two or three letters out to another wing but that would be it. Those would be needed to finalize any details and close the deal, but the framework of an alliance needed to be set tonight. 

With a jinchuriki in the Arena an alliance was necessary. Alliances in the Games between the Great Nations tended to fair poorly, too much bad blood built up from past wars. No an alliance would have to come from a minor nation, ideally one of the larger ones. Kakashi had made it clear to Sakura and Sasuke that their primary goal at the dinner would be to secure a deal with Taki. The villages had relatively good relations for neighbors and joint long standing animosity toward Iwa had made them natural allies in the past.

He told them he trusted their discretion to reach an agreement. Obviously he'd have final say of course, but he was putting a lot of faith in the two of them, this was truly their biggest assignment yet. Big, but likely not too difficult. It would be a mutually beneficial agreement with very few obstacles in the way and both sides needed the alliance. 

Suddenly horns started to sound, and the party guests all started to clear the area that was designated as the Hall's dance floor. The main event was about to begin. 

At the entrance of the Hall stood all 27 tributes, each one hand in hand with their respective partners (Shizuka, Nadeshiko's kunoichi stood with their attendant). As they entered the Hall in the same order as they entered the city during the parade, Kakashi breathed a sigh of relief.

Yakumo appeared to be walking with Sai at a steady pace. Her frailness would inevitably be revealed once the Games started, but any shakiness now could doom their chances for sponsorship before the Games even begun. Once they began dancing Sai could simply lead, move her along and everything would be okay. 

Kakashi had tried to instill in the two the importance of the opening dance. These nobles largely lacked anything resembling combat experience, but most of them had received serious training in dance their whole lives. As a result, in their own way they could pick up information from watching a dancer, judging them on their elegance and skill. He may have been skeptical about the extent to which dance skill translated to combat ability but it didn't matter. Sponsors would make judgements from this performance and that would affect many decisions on how they should spend their money. 

As the Candidates began the traditional couples' dance, Kakashi couldn't help but pick up a little bit of information himself. The clothes of Suigestu from Kiri and Fu from Taki were both a little ruffled, maybe one had tripped into the other at some point leaving dinner. Probably not the best sign from a potential ally, but he'd wait to hear the details from Sasuke and Sakura. Matsuri from Suna was squirming as she and Gaara moved in a barley passable dance. Kakashi could understand, most genin would likely do the same in her shoes, but the girl wasn't doing herself any favors. 

The pair from Shimo were surprisingly graceful, that may earn their mentor a few extra visits from potential sponsors after the dancing ended. On the other end of the spectrum, the giant boys from American and Iwa were a little clumsy, but given their size no one would penalize them for that. 

As the music played on Kakashi turned his attention back to Sai and Yakumo. The two moved perfectly adequately, they wouldn't gain anything from this little display, but they wouldn't lose anything either. He could live with that. 

The music finally came to a halt and the whole room burst into applause. As the Candidates bowed in thanks to the other party guests, a weight lifted that Kakashi hadn't realized was there. The night was over for the genin, they would all be escorted back to their rooms by the samurai. He'd still have another hour or two of work, now that the dance floor was open he'd be expected to share it with a number of noblewoman before he could return to his suite and debrief the team. But the hardest part of his night was over, only a few sponsors would be interested in meetings at this point in the evening. For the most part they would just want to dance and drink. 

Day 1 might as well be done and far as he was concerned, nothing had gone wrong.

Of course it was in that exact moment that a smiling Fu let go of her partners' hand, turned around and hugged Kurotsuchi who was standing behind her.

She hugged Kurotsuchi. She hugged the Tsuchikage's granddaughter. With everyone in the Hall looking at them. 

A new round of applause broke out. Considering the history between the two villages, a Taki ninja hugging the granddaughter of the Tsuchikage was a powerful moment for most in attendance. A sign of friendship between two girls symbolizing peace between two nations where very little had existed in the past.

But for all the mentors this embrace meant only one thing, an alliance in the arena whether Iwa wanted it or not. As far as potential sponsors were concerned, these two girls were now linked for the remainder of the Games. Civilians tended to be swayed by emotional gestures. Any sign of going back on this act of "friendship" before or during the Games would be seen as the fault of the Great Power, and all the sponsor money would dry up . 

More importantly if Iwa was seen rejecting such a public heartfelt outreach of peace in front of so many perspective mission clients with large networks and multinational organizations, why, the village's economy could actually take a hit. The second Fu had wrapped her arms around Kurotsuchi their alliance was written in stone, no pun intended. 

But this was more than just a simple alliance between two villages. Considering her lineage and likely ability, Kurotsuchi represented potentially the most powerful genin in the Games after Gaara. Even Kakashi could admit that if any genin had the chance of triumphing over the jinchuriki it was likely her, making Iwa the most sought after alliance this year of any nation.

No that hug likely spelled the doom for some of the smaller villages, whose best chance at victory was a powerful alliance to take down Gaara. In the end it was a masterstroke, Kakakshi could feel his respect for Shibuki rising. A complete out of the box plan that thrust his village into the spotlight for all the sponsors to stare at in wonder, and gained them an ally that gave them an actual fighting chance to win these Games. 

Taki had come to the party without a date and left it with the Belle of the Ball on their arm. 

They had also left, Kakashi without his best chance for a dance partner. Okay not a problem. Surely between their combined initiative, cunning and grace Sasuke and Sakura had managed to lay the foundations for a potentially fruitful alliance with another village?

Oh Kami, this wasn't good, he needed to talk to somebody tonight. To hell with Taboo, going into these games alone, these specific games, would be suicide. There was just too much power being thrown around. 

As the Candidates were escorted out, and couples began to move onto the dance floor, Kakashi quickly glanced around the hall trying to avoid looking like someone who was desperate. Ao was raising a glass towards Shibuki who now found himself surround by a larger crowd of potential sponsors than ever before. Kiri was non-starter, both personally and professionally. 

Tani? No the Land of Rivers has survived this long by doing whatever it could to appease both Suna and Konoha. They may be here to win, but an action seen as helping Konoha could tip their balancing act in a way they wouldn't risk. 

Oto? Maybe. It was a relatively new village so there wasn't exactly a history of animosity there. It's growth was certainly impressive and that showed the kind of ambition that could produce quality shinobi. But there was just something about their mentor, a dark haired man in a ponytail, that left him with a growing sense of dread.

There. A dash of navy out of the corner of his eye. 

Kakashi walked slowly, yet deliberately towards his target, who just so happened to be talking to Lord Kuzon. While Kakashi doubted that he was the first to notice his approach, Lord Kuzon was the first to acknowledge it. 

"Aw Kakashi, is there something else I can do for you young lad," the Lord kindly asked. The man was beginning to get a little bit into his cups. 

"No, I'm sorry my Lord, I'm actually hoping to talk to your companion."

"By all means," a feminine voice called out, "say what you need to say".

Kakashi did his best to look nervous, after all this was a conversation that the samurai would frown upon. He could already feel one of their stares burning a hole in his back. He'd need a good excuse for having it.

"May I have this dance," he asked, putting his hand out for the taking. 

Lord Kuzon drunkingly laughed, probably a little louder than intended, "Who am I to stand in the way of young love". That outburst served Kakashi's purposes fairly well. With the party back in full swing, there was too much noise for anybody outsider of their general vicinity to hear it, but the samurai following him was close enough to hear it.

He doubted anyone actually involved with organizing the Games would believe he'd had come over here to merely talk to a beautiful woman. There would be some kind of penalty for this, but Kakashi had his excuse for starting this conversation and he was sure he could wriggle his way into making the penalty a light one.

The  bluenette Ame mentor paused for a moment, likely making all of the same calculations as him and a few of her own. After what felt like an eternity, but was really only a second, she took hold of his outstretched hand, "I'd love to."

Lord Kuzon slapped Kakashi on the back, laughing loudly again as he wandered off to find yet another drink. With his new partner in hand, the two walked slowly to the dance floor as the musicians began to prepare another song. 

This wasn't going to be easy, smaller countries tended to resent it when the Great Nations used their lands as a battlefield. But the only other viable option at this point was Kusa and they presented the same problem. Plus he doubted anyone would buy the idea that he'd want to dance with the Jounin acting as their mentor. He'd already taken his shot, at this point it was Ame or nothing. That'd she was willing to talk to him was hopefully a good sign. 

As they made it the center of the dance floor she put her other hand on his shoulder. "You can call me Konan."

"Kakashi Hatake," he responded as he place his hand on her waist.

"I know who you are. The question is what can I do for the 'great' copy ninja." The musicians started to play, Kakashi recognized the song, they'd have about 2 minutes and 18 seconds to complete this conversation. Maybe an extra 10-15 seconds considering the musicians' pace on earlier songs.

The two began swaying along to the music. "I was wondering whether you'd consider an alliance between our candidates." Straight to the point, though she had likely guessed his intention the second he had approached her. It was probably also obvious why he had decided to make such an approach at this point in the evening. 

"Konoha has used my nation to further their own ends in the past, why should we help you now." There it was, a combination of historical resentment and smugness in the knowledge that for once the Great Nation needed the minor power more than the other way around.

"There are several mission requests in the region along our border, we'd be happy to open up the area to some joint missions, share a bit of the income." It was an offer that Team 7 had been given the go ahead to make towards Taki, he hoped the Sandaime would let it stands towards Ame. Hanzo and the Hokage would have to figure out the details themsevles. He might get a few extra D-Ranks with the kiddies for making an unauthorized offer, but the Hokage would understand. 

"Does that offer stand regardless of success or failure?" 

He dipped her, speaking as he leaned over. "It'll stand if both teams survive forty eight hours."

Konan responded as they rose back up, "make it twelve hours." 

He didn't really have a choice at this point, he was definitely looking at more D-Ranks, "twelve hours."

She smirked, there was about a minute left in the song. "Tempting, but I'm not sure if I want to blow up any potential deals my team made for that."

She had complete control and they both knew it. Ame had options, Konoha didn't. Kakashi found himself uttering the worst words anyone could say in a negotiation: "What do you want?"

The smirk turned into a grin, "Any intelligence you may have on Sabaku no Gaara."

Konoha had a few stolen mission reports and a reasonable attempt at creating a psychological profile. Not much, but likely more than anything Ame had. Still sharing any intelligence with another nation, even information that would likely be public knowledge when the Games began was generally grounds for imprisonment. But the reports were given to him to distribute at his discretion. That may have been intended only in regards to the five genin he had with him on the mission, but he technically had the legal power to give it to whoever he saw fit. The song was at it's last few notes. 

"I'll send a courier tomorrow." D-Ranks for the next three months. 

The song ended, and various couples left and entered the dance floor as the musicians began to prepare for the next one. Konan's grin was now a full on smile as she broke contact from him. "Well then I believe we have a deal." Without a doubt this was a skilled and dangerous woman. 

With that statement, she turned around and proceeded to walk off the dance floor. Kakashi prepared to return to the throngs of potential sponsors, but found the same samurai who was following him earlier blocking his path. Looked like he was getting kicked out of the party early. Well if that was the only punishment Kakashi received for all his actions tonight than he'd be happy. It probably wouldn't be though.

Chapter Text

Kakashi Hatake left Mifune’s office properly reprimanded. A couple penalties would keep the Copy Ninja from repeating his offense at the Ball. Rules are rules after all though the most astounding thing was that it had three days to get Konoha’s mentor into his office. While he had found this delay infuriating (ninja truly had no sense of discipline) by the time he had finally gotten Kakashi into his office, the whole matter seemed trivial compared to what really mattered. 

With Hatake sent back to his quarters with his tail between his legs, the General sighed, steeling himself to focus on the matter that had been plaguing him since the end of Candidate demonstrations that morning. As expected every Candidate from the major villages was a complete monster, well except for the kunoichi from Suna, that girl screamed ordinary. Matsuri wouldn’t be the first to conceal their abilities in the hope of tricking their enemies into underestimating them. But no one in the Games is ever underestimating a genin from the Five Great Nations, and if this girl was putting on an act, then it’s the best one Mifune’s ever seen. 

Regardless he and the rest of the panel of judges had submitted their scores from the demonstrations and they’d be released to the public within the hour, to great fanfare. Betting would go through the roof that night, as the gambling houses would announce their first set of odds shortly after Mifune’s own announcement. However Mifune’s focus this evening wasn’t on the scores of any genin from the five great nations, not even Matsuri’s jinchuriki teammate Gaara. After all, the boy’s status was the worst kept secret of the Games, though it would ultimately be the source of all of Mifune’s problems.

No, at this very moment Mifune’s attention lay outside the major powers, as he waited for confirmation of what he already knew to be true. 

It was at that moment one of his guards opened the door to his office just a crack to peer in. A quick nod from the general, and the samurai escorted his final guest of the evening inside. Hardly proper etiquette, but on a night like tonight proper etiquette could be pushed aside. 

As always, a nervous Shibuki entered the office, quickly sitting down before Mifune. A true warrior needs to be sure of themselves, but despite Shibuki’s skills as a shinobi, the mentor hadn’t seemed to grow out of that flaw since Mifune had last spoken to him several years ago, after the Taki’s shinobi own victory in the Games. In all actuality it was hardly surprising, the Games tended to stunt the emotional growth of its survivors. 

Still, even if Shibuki’s win was a little lucky, no Victor could walk out of the Games without a high degree of ability. If he had anything to do with Taki’s selection for the Games and their little stunt at the ball, then he had clearly grown into a cunning ninja. That or a reckless fool who had just doomed the entire continent. 

“E-excuse me Lord Mifune,” Shibuki asked, “is everything alright?”

Mifune took a breath from his pipe, unconsciously wishing that he was smoking something stronger. “I just need confirmation before we proceed.”

“Confirmation?” The guilt on Shibuki's face betrayed his knowledge. It was clear he knew exactly why he was here. That was all Mifune truly needed, but he was going to pull the truth from his guest, no matter how uncomfortable the extradition would be. Even 99% percent certainly would not be enough for this case. 

He leveled a glare, one that had been hardened from decades of being a soldier and a commander of men. The kind of glare that even a Victor would flinch under. Part of Mifune enjoyed making Shibuki squirm, an inadequate punishment for what Taki was about to unleash on the world. 

With all the authority the General could muster, he continued. “The kunoichi Fu Takume,” at her name Shibuki flinched once again, “is the Chomei Jinchuriki.” There was no question in Mifune’s voice. Her private demonstration to determine her score had made it clear. This was a statement of fact. 

Shibuki paused for a few moments, they both knew there was really no point in hiding it any longer, after all in a few days the whole world would learn that truth. Yet Mifune would not let him go until Shibuki said it. 

“Yes,” he replied with a sigh and a nod. 

The final confirmation shook Mifune to a far greater extent than he expected. “Why? One Jinchurki changing hands shifts the balance of power. Two, two will knock it off its axis entirely.”

“Fu’s entry was…my idea. I didn’t think the elders would actually go for it.”

Of course they would go for it. The chance to acquire a second jinchuriki and potentially replace Suna as one the Five Great Nations, was obviously too tantalizing a prospect for Taki to pass up, damn the consequences. Despite the record number of skilled Candidates this year, a Suna victory had seemed guaranteed. It would be an outcome that may anger some of the other nations as many of them were gambling a valuable asset or a kekei genkai, Gaara’s victory would have consequences, but not to the extent that it would guarantee a war. 

Two jinchurikis changed everything. A Taki victory wouldn’t just be the final blow guaranteeing Suna’s steady decline from great power status, it would give the Waterfall two jinchurikis something its great power neighbors, especially Iwa, would never accept. Whether Suna’s instability would force it to lash out or Taki status as a potential military threat would force another power to launch a preventive war didn’t really matter. The Fourth Great Ninja War would be a certainty. 

There was also now the possibility of the jinchurki taking each other during the Games, allowing another major power to seize both. Any great power suddenly adding two additional  Bijuu to their their arsenal overnight would immediately be seen as the continent’s supreme military power, provoking a coalition and likely starting a war within weeks if not days of the Games’ conclusion.

The die had been cast, and only Taki and Mifune were aware of it. With all that settled Mifune dismissed Shibuki, who was happy to exit quickly, leaving the old samurai alone with his own thoughts. It was almost time to announce the Candidates’ scores, yet Mifune was still stuck at his desk. 

He sighed and reached into a drawer for a bottle of a Sake he had planned to drink at the Games’ conclusion. With little hesitation he took a swig straight from the bottle, before putting it down. He considered having another, but ultimately decades of trained discipline won out. 

Gaara was the Shinobi World’s only chance for peace, an ironic thought as the boy was by far the most monstrous and bloodthirsty of all the Candidates. Hell he would likely be the most violent genin to enter the arena since Zabuza Momochi had slaughtered every single other Candidate at his own Games. 

Yet a Suna victory was the only hope for some stability. The desert village gaining another jinchuriki would be a concern, but at the end of the day it wouldn’t give them a decisive edge over the other great powers, and it wouldn’t threaten the status quo, unlike a victory for Taki or another minor village. 

As the Grand Organizer of the games, Mifune was sworn to neutrality. As much as he wished he could, samurai honor demanded that he remained neutral and avoid interfering in any way that may give Gaara an advantage in the ring. Yet for the first time ever, he found himself praying for a specific Candidate's victory. The barrier surrounding the arena had already been strengthened as soon as he had been made aware of the “rumor” surrounding the Suna jinchuriki’s participation, but he would order it to be reinforced yet again. He might not be able to prevent a war, but he could prevent two Bijuu from rampaging throughout his country.

The last few days had been an embarrassment for Kurotsuchi. First the dinner, then the ball, and finally being forced to ally with the source of her humiliation had been a complete ordeal. Her father nearly had a volcanic eruption over the fiasco at the dance, and had chewed her out quite thoroughly for being politically outmaneuvered. She was the granddaughter of the Tsuchikage after all, social etiquette and political implications were areas where she should have shined. 

Yet the picture of her being hugged by her…new best friend Fu….had already been spread across the continent. She could only imagine how everyone back in Iwa reacted. IMAGINE how Grandpa Onoki must have reacted. Her father made it clear that they could really only make the best of a bad situation, so she and Akatsuchi were stuck with this alliance with Taki. Her only real hope was that Fu would die off in the initial bloodbath and everyone would forget about the whole thing. 

This had left her very frustrated, and Kurotsuchi had taken out these frustrations in her private demonstration. She might have gone a little overboard, Akatasuchi said that it took them roughly 30 minutes to clean up everything after she was done. She didn’t necessarily need to melt every single training dummy, but they had more in storage so it was all okay. Just as long as she got the highest score, which was the reason that she and the rest of the Iwa delegation were standing on a battlement in the middle of this very chilly night. 

The scores for all the candidates would soon be projected onto the night sky for everyone in the fortress and the city to see. This would be one of the last major events before the Games began, so the sounds of many revelers out and about in the city could be heard. Presumably the other delegations were all watching from separate battlements, or from cordoned off areas in the courtyard below. 

The candidates would all be scored based on their private demonstrations on a scale of 1-10. Besides affecting the betting odds and influencing sponsors, the scores could have fairly tangible benefits for a village. Even if a candidate was taken out early in the Games, a high score relative to the competition tended to see a correlating rise in mission requests. Typically candidates from major villages scored in 6-8 range with the occasional prodigy earning a 9. The minor villages usually had to settle for 4s and 5s and particularly uninspiring Candidates scoring even lower.

As she looked out over the parapet, she could hear the heavy footsteps of her long time friend and teammate behind her. Akatsuchi could be stealthy when he wanted to, but he would never sneak up from behind on a friend. 

As much of a comfort the boy had been in the past, she didn’t really want to talk. “Go away Akatsuchi.”

“But, I’ve got honey coated bean buns,” her friend responded in a high pitched voice that didn’t really fit a boy of his size. 

Kurotsuchi’s stomach picked that moment to unleash a large guttural growl. She had been too focused on the scores that she had forgotten to grab food that night. Plus honey coated bean buns were her favorite. 

“Give it here,” she said as if she were the one doing her friend the favor. Akatasuchi sat down next to her, handing over the bun, while preparing to eat one of his own. Kurotsuchi tried to make the dessert last, but before she knew it was gone in three quick bites. Turning to her friend she was surprised to see he hadn’t even taken a single bite out of his yet. 

She knew him well enough to know that that probably wasn’t the best sign, still she wasn’t really that great at the whole being supportive thing. But for Akatasuchi she would try. 

“You feeling alright.” Okay maybe not the most creative approach, but she’s trying alright. 

“You’re not scared?” Akatsuchi replied softly. 

“Of the scores? Not really anything scary about that. Besides I’m pretty sure I nailed it, and knowing how crazy muscular and strong you are I’m sure you did too.” There, she was reassuring, hopefully that would be enough to calm Akataasuchi’s nerves, though it didn't take long for her to realize her words had no effect. 

“I’m Not Talking About The Scores,” Akatashuchi didn’t quite shout. Kurotsuchi was taken aback, her friend usually left angry outbursts to her. “I’m not talking about the scores,” he said a little more softly, “I’m talking about the Games.”

Realization dawned on Kurotsuchi, or at least she thought it did, as she softly put her hand on Akatsuchi’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about that, we’ll get through it, we always have right?”

“But no matter what, at least one of us won’t Kurotsuchi.”

There it was, the painful reality she had been avoiding. Kurotuschi was no stranger to death and she was fully prepared to do everything possible to win and bring glory to Iwa. That one of those things could mean killing her oldest friend was something that she’d been trying to ignore. 

“Well…”, the sound of the loud horns blared throughout the city, allowing her to banish those thoughts from her mind for a few more minutes. Soon the sky was covered with a bright light as the symbol of the Games was shown for everyone to see. Loud cheers of excitement followed, though they were quickly silenced as Mifune’s booming voice brought everyone to silence. If there was anything out of the ordinary regarding Mifune’s typical speech patterns, Kurotsuchi didn’t notice it. 

CANDIDATES, CITIZENS, HONORED GUESTS, TONIGHT I AM PROUD TO PRESENT THE ABILITY SCORES FOR ALL 27 OF THIS YEAR’S CANDIDATES. AFTER OBSERVING THEIR SKILLS, WE’VE THOROUGHLY DEBATED AND ANALYZED THEIR PERFORMANCES TO ARRIVE AT THESE RESULTS. NO WARRIOR’S ABILITY CAN TRULY BE CAPTURED BY A NUMBER, BUT LET THESE RESULTS STAND AS A TESTAMENT TO THE HARD WORKING EACH OF OUR YOUNG CANDIDATES HAVE GONE THROUGH TO GET HERE TODAY. 

Scattered cheers could be heard, but nothing compared to the earlier revelries. This was just the warm up, and like the crowd, Kurotscuhi was waiting for the night’s main event. 

FIRST WE HAVE THE CANDIDATES FROM KUMO!

Louder cheers erupted as the face of male candidate from Kumo, Omoi was projected on the sky. Below his face, his name along with then number 7, was printed in big black letters for all to see. A respectable score, but considering the crop of candidates this year, not one that would likely grab too much attention. His partner Karui’s results were the same, considering both wielded swords they likely had a similar skillset. Kurotsuchi was sure hers would be better. 

It took no time at all for someone to surpass Kumo’s score, as that idiotic asshole Suigestu was awarded an 8 much to her chagrin and the crowds’ excitement. His partner Seiren followed with a 7, while both Konoha candidates managed to score 8s of their own. Something was clearly off with that Sai kid, that was only things she had been able to gather at the banquet. He’d be dangerous. She hadn’t had the chance to pay attention to his partner Yakumo, but clearly the girl would be deadly as well. 

At last it was Iwa’s turn, she could feel Akatasuchi squeeze her hand as his face graced the sky. She hadn’t even noticed they had started holding each other, out of nerves or anticipation she couldn’t say. 

Though any nerves they may have had, at least regarding the events of tonight, were unfounded as a giant 8 quickly appeared under his picture. Her father Kitsuchi slapped Akatsuchi on the back and laughed as he and their attendants had walked over to stand behind them, another thing she hadn’t noticed. The boy smiled uneasily, hardly the famously large grin he was known across the village for. Before she had any time to examine her friend’s discomfort any further, it was time for her own score. 

The loudest shout of the night escaped her lips, as it did for her father, their attendants and the onlookers throughout the city as a 9 appeared under her name, the highest score yet of any candidate. She’d done it, any shame brought on by the events of the ball would be wiped away with a score like that, even Gramps would be excited by such a high result. Only a small handful of candidates in the history of the Games had ever received a 9 and more than 3/4s of them went on to win their Games in dominating fashion. Without a doubt she would be the one to beat. 

They would’ve celebrated all through the night if the very next picture had not been Gaara with a big, giant 10 on fully display. 

10.

10!

The roars of the city fan outstripped the now seemingly humble cheers she had gotten just moments ago . A fucking 10, she knew he was a jinchuriki but that was ridiculous. Only one candidate in history had ever received a 10 before. For onlookers, and sponsors this was a once in a lifetime moment, but for her it was clear just how difficult her job would be. No matter, she knew that going in. He scored a 10 so what, that didn’t mean he was better, and if she couldn’t overpower him, she would just have to outsmart him. 

Looking back to the sky she saw Taki’s waterfall symbol, realizing that she missed the result for Suna’s female candidate; Matsuri. Even if Gaara was her target, that didn’t mean Kurotsuchi should ignore the threat of his partner.

“Psst, Akatasuchi, what did the Kunoichi get,” she whispered.

“3,” he whispered back. 

“No seriously, what did she get?”

“I told you a 3.”

That couldn’t be right, had to be an act. Though it was a pretty big misplay on Matusri’s part in Kurotscuhi’s option. If she had a normal score most Candidates would likely ignore her in favor of her record tying teammate. But, now Kurotsuchi was more curious about Suna’s 3 point genin than ever before. 

Nakari, Taki’s male competitor, scored a measly 5. This alliance was looking worse all the time, he and Fu would be useless against the likes of Gaara. Still she and Akatsuchi could handle it, they were teammates after all. 

Of course the universe chose that exact moment to give Fu of all people a 10 score of her own. 

For the first time all night the Land of Iron descended into a dead silence. But it only took a few seconds for the loudest applause and cheers Kuortsuchi had ever heard to ring across the land. People were stomping their feet, banging on windows and shooting fireworks that had been saved for the conclusion of the night’s festivities, into the air. She wouldn’t be surprised if travelers could hear the roars for miles outside the city’s walls. 

Already, specters, sponsors, and gamblers were declaring that this would be the greatest Games ever. Going from one 10 in the previous seven decades to having two in one night, this would surely be a spectacle unlike any other. 

But not a single word was spoken among any ninja observing the skies, outside of a certain pair of mint and blond haired blabbermouths. For them, and shortly afterwards for their leaders back home, this was a moment of silent reflection upon the new dangerous reality they were facing. 

Kurotsuchi barely paid any attention to the remaining scores. From what she gathered it was mostly 5s with a few surprise 6s and 7s thrown in and even an 8. Normally these would be astounding numbers for minor villages, and a clear sign that they were going all in to achieve success but compared to Gaara and Fu’s 10s, even Kurotsuchi’s own 9 was a mere afterthought. 

She would wait till morning to truly analyze these scores and memorize the results of her remaining competitors, but for now she only wanted to rest and digest all this information tomorrow. As she mindlessly walked towards her room and collapsed on her bed, Kurotsuchi’s final thought was that she was no longer the alliance’s main attraction. 

Chapter Text

He wouldn’t have risked revealing himself if he didn’t think these games would be particularly interesting, but even without a single drop of blood shed, they had already gone above and beyond his wildest expectations. Even the one he longed for most had made an appearance. Chaos, chaos was coming, and if there was anything he knew it was the perfect moment to strike. The Hatake brat and Pain’s little angel were unforeseen obstacles, but when the time comes, they would be dispatched like all the others. 

As much as he wished the boy who’d taken his wife from him would simply disappear, he never imagined Gaara could possibly lose. Until now. The Games had changed, in a way he hadn’t foreseen. A failing on his part, in attempting to satisfy his own greed he underestimated everyone else's. As he signed the order recalling all ninja on non-essential missions, and another one to increase stockpiles of weapons and medical supplies, he knew all he could do now was prepare for the worst case scenario. 

It was rare for anything to catch him off guard, yet this latest intelligence report had left him surprised for the first time in many years. His decades of experience and knowledge allowed him to arrive at the natural conclusion, one that Sarutobi and the other four kage would surely arrive at as well. Victory…no, survival would be decided in the days to come. 

Getting any intelligence in or out of the fortress was essentially impossible, even for an organization as skilled as theirs. Nevertheless, in an organization with such a one track mind, it didn’t take long for her to make a logical assumption. Moving openly now would be impossible, they weren’t ready, and even if they were striking here would bring the full might of the world down upon them. No for now she would maintain her original mission, observe and gather intelligence. Except now she’d have two targets instead of one. 

On that day, historians would note that the Great Nations were a little quicker on the uptake, but the minor ones, whether they were participating in the Games or not, only took an extra day or two to quickly follow suit. Across the continent orders were given to begin the first stages of mobilization. 

Shinobi creeped the hell out of Yuki. If anybody knew the actress turned commentator’s history, they’d find that sentiment pretty understandable. Even discounting her father’s murder and her subsequent exile from her homeland, Yuki no Kuni’s long lost princess believed she would still find this group of knife wielding children extremely unsettling. 

Sadly the last Princess Gale movie had bombed at the box office, essentially killing the franchise. Past her 30th birthday, most projects were looking for someone younger, the next big thing. So when the offer came to be the new host of the Genin Games, her agent had been able to pressure her into accepting. 

The villages were selling more than just the skill of their ninja, they were selling a story, one that would get clients and sponsors invested in their genin, and one that would inspire the people of their country. Ultimately it would be Yuki’s job tonight to craft a story for each of the Candidates tonight, no matter how drab and boring they may be. 

It wasn’t all bad, virtually everyone in the world would at least see a recording of this broadcast. Smile, be charismatic, remind the world why they loved her and ignore how each of the twenty seven children she was about to interview would gut her like a fish without the slightest hesitation if given the order. 

It was gonna be a long night, but she was a professional. She could handle the next few hours. 

“5 minutes, 5 minutes to showtime, can we get Yuki on stage?” 

And that was her cue, as she put out the cigarette she’d been smoking to calm the nerves she absolutely did not have and made her way on stage. The audience, already in their seats, quickly applauded her entrance. A couple of smiles and waves were enough to satisfy those jackals, as the stagehands adjusted her mike and made the final preparations for the broadcast. To her left she could see a couple of them herding her interview subjects into an orderly line, though they seemed to have some trouble with some of the more rambunctious ones.  

“And going live in 5, 4, 3, 2,...” well time to play her role in this little horse show. Was it too late to go into theatre? As the Games’ anthem began to play it was time to put on her games. Spotlight, smile, here we go.

“To our esteemed audience members, mentors, honored Candidates and all of our viewers around the world, welcome to the 73rd annual Genin Games!” Once again the audience broke out in applause. 

“Tonight we introduce to the world 27 remarkable young men and women before they put everything on the line for their nations, I’m your host Yuki and I will be here with you every step of the way, now let’s meet our first candidate, the male Genin from Kumogakure, Omoi!”

Another loud applause, as the production assistant practically shoved Omoi on stage. The boy clearly had stage fright, an odd trait for a ninja. But considering all the pieces of plywood called actors she essentially carried through the Princess Gale franchise, she could make this work. 

As she settled down into a rather comfy red chair (thank Kami the samurai didn’t impose their standards of comfort on everyone else), Omoi sat down in the seat next to her, already twiddling his thumbs. He wore a fairly crisp suit, a departure from the normal standard of Candidate fashion. With all the monsters in this year’s games, it seemed every village was desperate for a way to stand out. 

“Omoi, it’s nice to have you and may I say well done, an impressive score.”

“Uh, yes. Yeah me and Karui really, uh…really killed it.”

A poor attempt at a joke, obviously thought of in advance. Yuki noticed Omoi, sucking his teeth for the barest of moments, a habit she herself often had when she’d gone a long time without a cigarette. 

Shinobi were supposed to be adults, but someone as young as Omoi smoking just didn’t feel right. But the boy was missing some sort of crutch at the moment, that was for sure. Better to pivot before he stumbles all over himself. 

“Well it sounds like you and Karui will make a deadly duo in the arena, but if I’m not mistaken, she’s not your only teammate with us tonight. After all, aren't you on the same squad as Samui, the Silver Blade?”

There was a loud cheer from the crowd at that statement. After all, the reigning Victor was particularly popular, even compared to other winners of the Games. Men, especially rich men, tended to be suckers for a pretty face. 

“Can we get a camera on Samui?” Another cheer from the crowd, as a spotlight shined on the blond Victor, sitting in the mentors and teammate section. Ever the graceful professional, Samui quickly stood up and bowed. 

Yuki had managed to kill a solid minute from Omoi’s interview, plus by shoving his association with last year’s champ in the entire world’s face, Yuki was really doing him a favor. Regardless of how badly he could bomb the rest of the interview, people would still support him, hoping for a repeat of an exciting Games. 

Hopefully that short breather would allow the young Kumo genin the chance to recompose himself. 

“So Omoi, could you give the audience any previews for what we should expect from Kumo this year?”

“Well, I’d say we’re really prepared for pretty much anything,” he responded, notably more confident than before. “Our sensei has really helped us put together some great strategies. Get ready everyone, cause we’re building a dynasty”.

Louder applause than before, a very nice rebound, no one would remember his earlier stuttering. 

“Though I guess we didn’t prepare for giant man eating bats. What if there are bats, or some other flying carnivorous creature. Or maybe deadly gas or a flood, what if there’s an avalanche that destroys the entire arena and I get separated from Karui, or I win and all the girls back home tear me apart because of how much in love with me they all are, or…”

And just like that he was spiraling. Okay she could pull him out of this, play it off as a joke. 

“Hah, well it seems like Kumo truly is prepared for every possible scenario,” some scattering laughs from  the crowd. “Really show us civilians the levels of in-depth planning that bright young Genin like Omoi here put into the Games.”

With those final words, the gong sounded, thankfully signifying the end of Omoi’s time. Yuki grabbed the boys’ hand (he blushed a little, who could blame, she IS a world renowned actress) and raised it into the air. 

“Omoi from Kumogakure, everyone.”

Polite applause, as Omoi exited the stage on the opposite side from where he entered, waving with a nervous smile. Yuki mentally sighed in relief, before turning to see Karui preparing to come on stage. Damn, she had 26 more of these to go. It was gonna be a long night.

Gaara could barely contain himself. Just one more event, one more night then he could finally prove his existence, not just to himself but to everyone in his world. Part of him wanted to crush the Iwa kunoichi standing in front of him in the Candidate line off stage right then and there. But he had waited this long, he could survive just a little bit longer. 

Besides, Matsrui and the Taki boy were standing in between him and one he truly wanted to kill, the one who despite her intense energy, had the same eyes as him. 

Speaking of Matsuri, it seemed like she was going to hyperventilate, though in the brief weeks he had known her, that was basically her default status. Barely worth killing. It was a shame her dress didn’t have any pockets, she couldn’t bring that stone she’d been fiddling around with for the last few days to calm herself. 

Not taking any time to wonder why he’d bother to notice the  tedious habits of his so-called partner, Gaara returned his full attention to the interviews. Surely there would be some valuable information he could glean from his prey. 

The girl from Kumo was a lot more confident than her partner, though she did seem annoyed by his performance, given her testy answers when asked about the boy during her interview. Unlike the boy she had a fighter’s set of eyes, the makings of a worthy competitor. 

The Kiri pair took a more aggressive approach than their lightning counterparts. The loud shark toothed boy who made a scene at dinner the other night, boisterously proclaimed his victory as inevitable and went into rather vivid details on how he would cut opponents to pieces. He was sure of himself, but Gaara could tell that he was a true killer. He might be loud and idiotic, but he would likely be able to back up his arrogance.The girl apparently had a pirate background, and used it skillfully to paint herself as a cunning and deadly Candidate. 

Konoha was where things finally got interesting. Oh not the emotionless pale boy who asked a million annoying questions, even with the efforts of the host, he still came across as charismatic as a dull kunai. The girl on the other hand, actually stumbled before coming on stage, leading to a minor delay between interviews. A stagehand ultimately helped her up, and no one in the audience had seen what had happened, but Gaara had, as had all of the other Candidates. 

She ultimately made it on stage with no further issues, and answered the questions with the grace of someone with a noble upbringing. But it was clear to Gaara that there was something wrong with this girl. If that was so, why was she here? A sacrificial lamb like Matsuri? Perhaps he should be keeping a closer eye on the pale boy, if he was skilled enough to cause Konoha to forgo sending a competent kunoichi. Or perhaps there was something else about her, something that made up for her defects. Either way, Konoha was keeping something close to their chests.

The boy from Iwa, was big, strong and jovial, attempted to laugh and joke with the host, but his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. Meanwhile, the Tsuchikage’s daughter bristled when the host introduced her as  the first half of the Twin Pearls, the nickname the public had drummed up for the Iwa/Taki alliance. 

“Thank you Kurotsuchi,” said Yuki as she ushered the genin off stage. “Now give a warm welcome to the male Candidate from Sunagakure, the second Candidate in the history of these games to score a perfect 10 in evaluations, Sabaku no Gaara!”

Best to get this over with. 

Gaara slowly walked onto the stage taking his time to sit down in the Candidate’s chair. The host smiled at him, despite his glare, but he could tell she was afraid of him. Good. 

“Gaara it is a pleasure to have you with us here today, and on the topic of that perfect score, can you enlighten us all on how you earned that 10?”

He strongly considered not answering her at all and staying silent for the whole interview, but anticipating Baki’s reaction to that strategy, he decided that would bring more trouble than it was worth. Fine, he would deign to give them all the answer they were looking for. 

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

“No”

“Well folks it looks like Gaara’s is keeping all his secret close to his to his chest.” That elicited a few chuckles from the audience. 

Yuki would ask him several questions, and each time Gaara responded with a simple yes or no. Each time he did the audience’s laughter grew louder, thinking it to be a bit on his part. Some might have expected Gaara to be engaged by this laughter, but he didn’t care for the opinions of spineless worms who would never see combat for a single day in their lives. 

There was about 30 seconds left in the interview, when Yuki ran out of pre-planned material. But the former actress was quick to adlib. 

“Gaara, according to our records you're the son of the Fourth Kazekage, Rasa. I know elaboration isn’t your thing, but could you speak to his role in shaping you into the fine young man and extremely capable shinobi before us today?”

In that moment Gaara, inadvertently leaked his killing intent. Wrong question to ask. His intensity in that moment was so great that even a boisterous crowd fell into silence, and every shinobi and samurai in the theater instinctively steeled themselves for an attack. 

How dare she. More than anything he wanted to tear this silly human into pieces, feed her blood to his sand. But that would cost him the opportunity to face the one Mother called out for with all of her furry. So as he had over the course of his time in this country, Gaara managed to restrain himself. 

“No.” 

The host nearly jumped out of her seat at that response. If he cared about that sort of thing, he would’ve been impressed by her professionalism to have not fled the stage entirely. 

Luckily for Yuki, and everyone else in the audience, the gong sounded, perhaps a second or two early, preventing her from asking another tripwire question that would get everyone killed. 

Gaara walked off stage, with no proclamation of thanks from the host or applause from the audience. The other candidates in the waiting area off stage all took a step away from him. He may have stifled his killing intent, but the expression of sheer rage that he could not wipe from his normally stoic demeanor, was just as intimidating. 

They were right to fear him, he knew he would kill them all in the next 24 hours. He would kill them all. Then he would go back to Suna and show his ‘Father’ just how skilled of a shinobi he had shaped him into. 

“Are you alright Lord Gaara?”

That sentence snapped Gaara out of his rather violent train of thought. He was surprised to see Matsuri standing before him with a look of worry on her face. He’d been so focused on his own anger he had missed her entire interview. Judging by the Taki boy looking at him fearfully a few meters away, he had also missed the subsequent interview as well. 

Which meant his prey, no his opponent, the other half of the ‘Twin Pearls’ was likely talking off the ears of the entire audience at the moment. But rather than watching this interview in an attempt to glean any further info for the arena, Gaara’s full attention was on Matsuri. 

She looked away under his stare, back to the fearful mess she’d always been. It must have taken her several minutes to work up the courage to approach him, and all the other Candidates were looking at her as if she was insane. 

Gaara couldn’t remember the last time someone had genuinely asked him that question. It must have been Yashamru…no his uncle was a liar who hated him.

Matsuri certainly hated him too, she was a liar just like the rest of them. 

“I’m fine…thank you Matsuri.” 

Gaara was as surprised to hear those words come out of his mouth as anyone in the vicinity. As far as he could recall those may have even been the first words he had ever directly said to her since the reaping. 

Matsuri looked up, still afraid, but there was something different in her eyes, something Gaara didn’t quite recognize. 

“Are you sure?”

Before Gaara could respond, a loud high pitched voice quickly grabbed all of the Candidates’ attention. 

“I absolutely crushed it out there, guys. Oh Kusu you were so great, you had me in stitches, and your dress. It is so beautiful.”

It seems like he missed Fu’s entire interview, he had to get himself under control. No more mental lapses, he was a shinobi, a demon, a killer, and right now he was wasting an opportunity by missing these interviews. 

So he gave Matsuri his normal glare, and just like that any sign of something different in her eyes was gone and the coward he had come to know had returned, as she averted her gaze and scurried to another spot in the waiting area. 

With that distraction removed, he returned his attention to the interviews as the boy from Kusa had begun his attempt to win over sponsors with a rather charismatic speech about the pride he took in his village, even if he came from a minor nation. 

As Gaara observed he kept an ear open to listen in on the Twins Pearls’ one sided conversation. Though he probably wouldn’t have been able to tune it out even if he tried. 

“Thank you, Shizuka.”

Yuki mentally breathed a sigh of relief when the Nadeshiko genin’s interview was finally over. Not that the girl was a tough interviewee, Yuki honestly found the story of an all female hidden village to be an interesting one, might be an interesting basis for a new film franchise, with herself as the lead of course. 

No, Yuki was just glad that the whole interview process was finally over. 27 Candidates were a lot to get through and she was exhausted. Plus she still hadn’t really gotten over her interaction with Gaara, even over an hour later her heart was still beating fast. The scarred Ame boy, the Oto Candidates, and those creepy twins from Tani hadn’t helped her calm down

Sumaru from Hoshi was also particularly intense during his interview. Yuki hadn’t wanted to bring up the boy’s mother after what had happened with Gaara, but her producers gave her no choice. It was remarkably rare for a village like Hoshi, minor even among the minor villages, to have produced a Victor. To have that victor’s son competing in this year’s games, no she couldn’t avoid bringing that up. 

It wasn’t all bad, she barely had to ask anything during her interview with Fu, who had been more than happy to just ramble for 3 minutes. There was also a brief interruption when a blonde hair boy in the teammates’ section of the audience made a scene after Yuki introduced Karin Uzumaki. They weren’t able to resume until one of the mentors had dragged the loudmouth out of the theater. Those were welcome breaks, and Yuki didn’t know if she would have been able to make it through the whole evening without them. 

But the evening wasn’t completely over yet. She still had one final scene in this performance. 

“We’ve had a fun time tonight getting to know so many great Candidates tonight. Every single one is truly remarkable in their own right. I think I’m not alone when I say that I truly truly believe that these will be the greatest Games we have ever seen!”

A loud round of applause followed that statement, though the mentors and teammate section were far more subdued. 

She could only fake this enthusiasm so long. At least on a movie there were a lot more breaks between filming scenes.

“Well if you enjoyed our program tonight, then please join me tomorrow for the main event, at 12:00, noon, for the start of a very special Genin Games!”

A final roar from the audience descended on Yuki, as the curtains were brought to close. She didn’t even wait for one of the stagehands to remove her mike before she lit a cigarette.

Kami, she needed that. A nice bottle of sake, a bath and a long night’s sleep, that’s what she needed, but she knew she wouldn’t be getting any of that. It was already late, and she’d have get up to prepare for her announcing duties. Hopefully these Games would be short, though they often lasted for weeks. Plus side, there was a lot of money in town, and she wouldn’t have to cover the Games 24/7. Maybe she could find a rich fool one night who’d be willing to fund her Amazon Ninja idea. 

As Yuki took another drag from her cigarette, she knew that regardless of whether someone funded her or not, there was no way she was doing this again next year.  

Chapter Text

As a shinobi Sai could operate at peak efficiency for several days without sleep, however he could understand Hatake’s logic when his mentor insisted that he and Yakumo go straight to bed after the interviews. They’d be getting up early to be escorted to the arena, and according to Hatake “Every little bit of rest helps.”

But it was a bit hard to get a full night’s rest when Naruto had broken out of the suite on three separate occasions during the night, each time in an attempt to reach his potential “long lost baby sister” (Naruto’s words not Sai’s).

The first attempt lasted a grand total of 15 seconds, before a samurai carried him back in and shut the door. Hatake had tried to calm down his Genin, but the fact that the Copy Ninja did nothing to stop either of Naruto's two subsequent attempts showed Sai that his mentor didn’t have the heart to crush the blond’s dreams of family. He hoped Hatake wouldn’t show that same sentimentality during the Games, the mission had to be achieved at all costs. That would mean the death of Karin Uzumaki of Kusa, and that of either Yakumo or himself. Sentimentality could only get in the way of results.

Naruto managed to make it about 15 minutes into his second attempt, waking Sai in the process. He managed to nod back off to sleep after a handcuffed Naruto had been violently thrown back into the suite, bound and gagged.

Haruno must have helped him out of his restraints, for Sai was awakened by Naruto’s third and most spectacular escape. He actually hadn’t woken up until after Uzumaki had already left the room (perhaps Sai was more tired than he thought), it would have been impossible to sleep through the loud series of crashes and explosions coming from the courtyard that followed. In spite of everything and the complete lack of stealth that was typical of even an average shinobi, he couldn’t help but grow a grudging respect for his jinchuriki attendant’s determination at the very least.

Sai estimated that it took about an hour and 17 minutes for the Samurai to catch Naruto. This time he didn’t return, instead a rather annoyed and scuffed up samurai had entered their suite and informed an insomniac Kakashi Hatake (who had zero intention of following the advice he gave his Candidate regarding a good night’s sleep) that his Genin would be held in the fortresse’s dungeon until after the Candidates reached the arena.

So Sai once again went back to sleep only to be woken a mere 30 minutes later at the strike of 5:00 in the morning by Hatake to begin making their final preparations. No more ceremonial garb, he dressed in his typical ROOT outfit, and tied his headband directly across his forehead. He prepared his scroll with its attached brushes and ink, the only equipment he’d be allowed to take into the Arena. Every Candidate was allowed to bring in one weapon of their own, but that was it. If he wanted a blade, any kunai or shuriken, paper bombs or even basic medical supplies he’d have to get them either in the Cornucopia or from a sponsor.

Unlike him, Yakumo, Sakura and Sasuke were visibly groggy, consequences of Naruto’s midnight excursions. Yakumo was wearing a dark purple battle dress, which should allow her to blend in at night. Like Sai she was also bringing a scroll and brush into the Games, though she would utilize paint instead of ink. That was one advantage they had, once one of them died, the other would be able to utilize the other’s weapon for their own jutsu.

Kakashi handed them both a couple food pills and a canteen of water. “Best to eat and drink now, it could take awhile to find a source of water in the arena, and there isn’t always food in the Cornucopia.”

“Not much of a last meal,” Yakumo barely whispered. She had remained calm and determined throughout most of the Games' preparations, yet now the weight of the upcoming battle was clearly breaking down her confidence. Sai had overheard her talking with Haruno a few nights before, about how she hoped to restore the prestige of her clan by winning the Games.

The Kurama clan, despite their reputation for Genjutsu, hadn’t produced a single Jonin in twenty years. Sai knew the reports that this girl’s Genjutsu abilities far outstripped anything the clan had ever produced and he would never question the decisions of Lord Danzo…but she had never even been on a mission before. It was doubtful she had the will necessary to win these games. If the strategy Hatake had developed showed anything it was that she would be a burden more than anything else.

Typically a village like Konoha would be expected to participate in the opening battle of the Games, colloquially known as the Bloodbath. Yet Hatake had made it clear that they were to meet with the Ame Candidates and flee the Cornucopia as quickly as possible. If they had a chance, maybe grab a tanto or a med kit if one was on the outskirts, but not if doing so would risk the group. In all the chaos, and without the proper time to prepare her jutsu, Yakumo would not last long by herself, so Sai’s very first task was to locate her and reach her side. A mission inside the mission.

It was not ideal, but he would accomplish his mission nonetheless.

So they sat, ate their food pills, drank their water and waited. Yakumo and Haruno whispered to each other in the corner, while Uchiha brooded and Hatake observed them all with a sad smile. It felt unusually quiet in the suite, Naruto would typically fill the awkward silences the group often endured, but without him there were no distractions. While Sai welcomed the respite, Yakumo clearly needed a distraction as her already pale complexion gradually lost more and more color as the clock ticked closer to 6. Haruno, despite her best efforts, was not as capable of a source of diversion as her blond teammate. Though she was also clearly losing her nerve despite not participating in the Games herself.

Strange that one could be upset by something that would have no direct impact on them. At last the clock struck 6 and the door opened as two samurai entered the suite. As the four Genin prepared to get up, the one Jounin in the room gestured to his two students to sit down.

“Sorry guys, I need you two to wait here. One of the samurai will come back in an hour and take you down to Naruto. Keep him company for now. They’ll release him into your custody when the Games start. I’ll send a messenger with an update when I can.”

“But Kakashi-sensei...” Haruno attempted to argue. She was quieted when her sensei gently put a hand on her shoulder.

“I’m so proud of you both, you’ve fulfilled your duties with grace and professionalism, but now your duties are done. There’s nothing more you can do for them,” he said, gesturing to Sai and Yakumo. “But I promise you Sakura, they’re my comrades too, and I will do everything I can to bring them home. The best thing you, Sasuke and Naruto can do now is be there for each other.”

Rather than cry out or shout, Haruno merely nodded towards her sensei, displaying a level of maturity Sai hadn’t expected from her. Yet, she still didn’t quite have the maturity of a proper shinobi, as she turned around and hugged Yakumo, who tightly hugged her back. The two had formed a close bond over the last few weeks, something Sai never bothered to do with Uchiha or Naruto.

“I believe in you,” Haruno whispered just loud enough for Sai to hear it.

“I’ll win. I promise,” Yakumo softly responded.

As the two girls ended their embrace, Sai turned towards the samurai ready to leave, only to feel a pair of arms around him from behind.

“Take care of yourself you arrogant asshole.” Despite the harshness of her words, Sakura spoke them with nothing but kindness. It took Sai a few moments to realize this was a hug, he didn’t think he had ever experienced one before. It felt…well he didn’t know.

As Sakura released him Sai caught a glimpse of Sasuke, who merely nodded towards him respectfully. Sai, without even realizing, found himself nodding back.

A Samurai coughed into his hand, they had dallied long enough. It seemed anyone who spent enough time around Kakashi Hatake was destined to pick up his habit of being late. Not even Sai was immune.

Without turning around to acknowledge Sakura, he strode out of the suite, shortly followed by Kakashi who guided Yakumo out into the hall. As the door closed behind them, he found his mind returning to the thoughts of Team Seven, of Naruto’s relentless enthusiasm, Sasuke’s verbal tics, how Sakura would angrily react whenever he called her ugly. Odds are he would never see any of them ever again.

The emotional weight of that realization was something that Sai, like other ROOT operatives, was able to easily banish from his mind.

So they walked towards the elevator, surrounded by a large contingent of Samurai who had been waiting for them in the hall. The elevator slowly lowered itself to the ground floor, seemingly moving slower and slower each time it passed a floor, yet in truth it moved at the same speed it had every time Sai had ridden it.

After what felt like an eternity it stopped at the ground floor. He and Yakumo were quickly split off from Kakashi by the samurai and ushered into separate rooms, where Sai found a group of medics and a pair elderly Samurai, welding brushes rather than swords, waiting for him.

The head medic looked him over dispassionately and told him to disrobe. One final inspection before the Games.

Some Genin might have been taken back by the following evaluation, but he was no ordinary Genin. Stripped of his clothes, the medics poured over every inch of his body searching for potential hidden weapons or seals, while two more inspected his clothes and scroll for any potential hidden compartments.

Meanwhile the two elderly samurai with brushes quickly painted two elaborate seals on his back. He was informed that one was designed to track him during the Games.

“And the other one?”

One of the samurai chuckled. “Let me just say son, you won’t have anything to worry about anymore if the conditions are met for this seal’s activation.”

Sai passed the examination with flying colors, as he had with every evaluation he had ever been given, only to be hurriedly escorted out of the room and to the fortress’ main courtyard arriving at the same time as Yakumo.

Like everywhere else in the fortress, the courtyard was flushed with samurai with Sai estimating over a hundred soldiers surrounding 27 horse drawn carriages in the courtyard center. A few workers were repairing a wall on the opposite end of the yard, which had several holes in it and oddly enough was covered with massive splotches of orange paint.

Each of the carriages held a large steel box, just about big enough for a person to stand upright. While most of the boxes were open, 4 were sealed shut, enclosed with chains and with an intricate paper seal placed on their front. The symbols for Kumo and Kiri had been inscribed on these boxes; it didn’t take a significant leap of logic for Sai to guess their cargo. It only took a moment to find the containers with Konoha’s insignia.

He instantly walked towards his arranged transportation, only to be stopped by Hatake’s hand on his shoulder. While there was a certain amount of chaos in these proceedings, he had no idea how he could’ve missed his mentor.

Yakumo hadn’t missed him, she was standing at his side, looking straight up towards Hatake. Despite having one eye covered, their mentor somehow managed to meet both their gazes.

“Find each other, find Ame, get as far away from the Cornucopia as quickly as possible. If you don’t have time to pick up a weapon, that’s fine, you have your brushes, you have scrolls, and we have enough sponsor money to send you some kunai if necessary. I’d rather save that for something more important later on, but worrying about frugality isn't a good reason to pick a fight with a bloodthirsty Kiri shinobi over a pack of shuriken.”

Sai and Yakumo mearley nodded, it wasn’t anything Hatake hadn’t said before.

“If it’s a desert priority one is finding water, if it’s a forest or jungle identify a safe food supply, if it’s rocklands, look for high ground.”

Thinking his mentor had finished his final speech, Sai started to turn around only for Hatake to kneel down and embrace both him and Yakumo with one arm each. Two hugs in one day. This one felt….no he’s a shinobi, feelings don’t matter.

Kakashi whispered his final bits of advice.

“Look after each other, no matter what happens who you ally with or what happens you two are comrades. Protect each other. Whatever you need, whatever the situation, I will get it for you, even if I have to make a deal with the Devil himself.”

Just like that the embrace was over, as a pair of samurai separated Sai and Yakumo from Kakashi.

“No physical contact,” one of the samurai gruffly muttered to Kakashi, probably a little sterner than necessary. Judging by the splashes of orange paint on the samurai’s armor, it was probably a good bet that Konoha wasn’t his favorite village right now.

Just like that, Sai was forcefully ushered toward the carriage and container he had been willing to walk over to by himself a few moments earlier. Up into the carriage he went as he was practically thrust into the box. The door to the box immediately slamming shut behind him.

As Sai heard the sound of chains wrapping around the box, he was able to just barely pick up the faint sound of rustling paper, before all of the outside noise of the busy outside courtyard vanished, and Sai found himself in complete silence and darkness.

There was nothing left to do, nothing left to prepare. All he could do was wait.

Several hours passed for Matsuri in the darkness. No sound, nothing, she couldn’t even tell if the carriage had even moved a single inch. The Fourth Great War could have erupted outside of that box, and she would have had no way of knowing. If she couldn’t hear the sound of her own breath she’d have gone insane. Maybe she already had.

What the hell was she going to do? She didn’t have a strategy, Baki had given her zero advice beyond the early preparations for the Games. Suna, and by extension her, had no allies.

She clutched her Johyo tightly, her only weapon, but more importantly the only object she had from back home. Kami, Suna, what she wouldn’t give to be back at this very moment. To be staring at the endless desert night sky, to gossip while eating pork skewers with Yukata, to even doing all the relentless team exercises their sensei had forced on them that they would all complain about. Not for the first time since her name had been announced to the entire world, Matsuri wished she had taken those exercises more seriously. Not that it would have made much difference.

Still the worst part of it all was that she never even had the chance to say goodbye, just thrown the wolves to be devoured without a second thought from anybody involved.

Every minute, no every second, her chest became tighter and tighter. Despite everything that had happened, part of her over the last few weeks had held onto a delusion that this wasn’t really happening or that someone would realize they made a mistake and pull her out of the Games. But that delusion, that faintest sliver of hope in the back of her mind was completely gone the second she’d been thrown in this box.

This damn box. No matter what she did, she couldn't banish the original thought she had that it felt like a coffin. Matsuri couldn’t run from the box, she couldn’t run from the Samurai, or the reaping, the Kazekage or Gaara. Gaara, in all this time she still didn’t know anything more about him than she had before the reaping.

Well maybe that wasn’t entirely true, spend enough time with a person and she was bound to pick up something. Like his tendency to skip breakfast, how he’d mumble to himself when angry, how he’d never drink anything during a meal. He was still terrifying, but in some ways he seemed more human than before. Yet his presence, his killing intent, felt more inescable than ever.

While Matsuri couldn’t run away from the Games, ironically running from the other Candidates was her only real option. She wouldn’t last two minutes in the bloodbath, no her best bet was to run, hide and hope everyone else just killed each other. But in her heart she knew that wouldn’t work, that the Games always ended in a final confrontation, that eventually someone (probably Gaara or that Fu girl from Taki with the perfect score) would track her down and kill her.

Matsuri was doomed, that’s what she kept telling herself over and over again, no matter how much she begged her mind to come up with a separate thought. At last her brain or some deity relented allowing a new concept to take over her psyche.

So what? So what if she was doomed? That wasn’t a reason to give up. She’s a shinobi dammit, and if there’s one thing she was trained to do it was survive. Pride might not be the word most people associated with her, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have it. If this was her last day then she’d go down making her best effort.

That spark of...well not confidence, but it was certainly a spark of something, was well timed, as without warning the darkness that had encompassed her was suddenly lifted, as the walls of the box fell outwards.

She instantly stretched her hands forward, desperate for more space and movement only to touch an invisible barrier. Even with the metal walls gone, she was still essentially trapped in a cage. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust, but thankfully the new space she found herself in was not particularly bright, allowing her to gather in her surroundings.

She was in a massive cavern, illuminated by a glowing green moss on the dark blue stone walls. The platform she was standing on was directly on the edge of a large pool of water in front of her which appeared to be in the center of the cavern. In the middle of the pool was an island of rock holding the Cornucopia. The steel structure contained a plethora of weapons: kunai, shuriken, swords and even the occasional ax littered the ground. Several packs and scrolls, contents unknown, were also scattered around and in the Cornucopia along with a number of canteens. Deep inside the Cornucopia were several wooden crates, likely stocked with rations.

Behind her the cavern floor was covered in a large array of stalagmites, each one standing a little under two meters. It was rough terrain, not necessarily the best for running away. Running away. Escaping. Fleeing. It was an enclosed space, how the hell was she supposed to get out of here. That was when Matusri noticed that beyond the stalagmites was an entrance to a small tunnel directly behind her, only wide enough for a single person to fit through at a time. It wasn’t the only one, there were identical tunnels to both its left and right. In fact as she looked around the cavern, she noticed more and more tunnels, each one the same size and shape. While she couldn’t quite see all of them, if she had to make a guess she’d assume there were 27 of them, one for each Candidate.

The Candidates! They all surrounded the cornucopia several meters apart. To Masturi’s left was the boy from Kusa, she couldn’t remember his name (Mushi? Muto?). However, to her right, was one of the few Candidates who likely left an impression on every other Genin in the Games. Suigetsu from Kiri, gnashed his shark like teeth and wore a large sword on his back, about a meter long. He wasn’t as intimidating as Gaara, but he was still fairly menacing in his own right.

As for Gaara, she couldn’t see him at all, likely he was on the other side of the Cornucopia blocked from her vision. At least that gave her a chance of making it out of the cavern alive.

‘Bong, Bong, Bong, Bong...’.

Matsuri had watched the Games enough to know that the final countdown had begun, in under sixty seconds the Games would begin.

‘Bong, Bong, Bong, Bong…’

Around her, her fellow candidates either unsheathed their weapons, started preparing jutsu, or positioned themselves to run towards or away from the Cornucopia, waiting for their barriers to drop. No more time to evaluate, no now was the time to get ready to run.

‘Bong, Bong, Bong, Bong…’

She turned her back towards the Cornucopia, setting herself into a sprinter’s starting position.

‘Bong, Bong, Bong. Bong…’

Once again her thoughts turned to home. If she was there she'd probably be standing with her team in the very square where she was reaped, nervously watching the big screen, while praying, (rooting if she was being honest) for the Suna candidates to make it through. Or perhaps Lo-sensei would have bought the team tickets to watch the first day in a theater to celebrate making it through their first reaping, taking them all out for BBQ afterwards.

Matsuri wondered what her team was doing now. Could they bring themselves to witness her potentially die with the rest of the village watching. Maybe Lord Kazekage had set up a sort of private viewing for them, so they could watch respectfully without the fixed eyes and whispers of other onlookers. No, the Kazekage wasn’t considerate like that.

‘Bong, Bong, Bong, Bong...’

Typically when someone is dreading something time has the tendency to speed up. Yet these last few seconds felt like an eternity. ‘Run, hide, live’. She pounded that mantra through her head. She might not have broken any speed records at the academy, but she was quick. More importantly she was a shinobi, and she would survive.

‘Bong!’

The barrier fell, the Games had begun.

Out of sheer battle instinct, something she didn’t even know she had, Matsuri fell backwards rather than jumping forward, just avoiding being bisected by the sweeping cut of Suigestu’s blade.

She hadn’t even noticed the boy preparing himself to target her, whether that was a failing of her observational skills or a testament to his ability to mask his intentions, who could say.

What Matsuri could say was that the boy was much faster than her to have covered the space between them so quickly. He had anticipated her to jump forward as soon the barrier fell, angling his strike accordingly. This was the only thing that had saved her life at that moment.

In dodging the surely lethal blow, Matsuri had completely lost her balance, falling backwards, splashing into the surprisingly deep pool of water behind her. She braced herself, Suigetsu was from Kiri, surely he would follow up with some water based jutsu if not dive in head first after her.

Yet neither scenario occurred, as Suigetsu ran on water’s surface directly above her sinking form, heading straight for the cornucopia and not even bothering to spare a glance downwards.

That didn’t make any sense. It was unlike a Kiri shinboi to pass up the chance for a kill, and extremely out of character for someone like Suigetsu based off of what she had gathered from his personality in the lead up to Games.

That was strange, the water around her started turning red. She had seen the rocks that made up the cavern, none of them should affect the color of the water in a such a way

Matsuri finally noticed the pain in her abdomen. She thought she had dodged Suigestu’s attack but she was sadly wrong. She may have avoided the worst of the strike, but it seemed the tip of the long sword had cut her across the stomach.

So that’s why Suiguestu had ignored her. As far as he was concerned, she was already dead. Matsuri heard the muddled sounds of metal clanging and people shouting as she continued to sink.

1 minute earlier

Sai had Karui to his left and the target of the previous night’s escapades, the Uzumaki girl from Kusa to his right. If Sai was a different person, someone who waxed poetically or contemplated the mechanisms of the universe, he would have thought of that as an ironic twist of fate, to be placed so close to the one thing Naruto had fought so hard to reach. But Sai was a shinobi, so any thoughts of cosmic mockery never even entered his mind.

Instead he searched for his “allies’ and his enemies. Luckily Yakumo was relatively close to his right, a mere 4 figures separating the pair of Konoha Candidates. Shigure, the male Candidate from Ame was even closer, just on the other side of Karui. He was a tall scarred boy, dressed in the standard Ame uniform. However that was where their luck ended as Shigure’s partner Ajisai was nowhere in sight, likely on the other side of the Cornucopia.

Furthermore only a single Candidate, the girl from Hoshi, Hokuto, separated Shigure from Gaara.

For the first time that Sai observed, the jinchuriki appeared to be smiling. While Sai’s study of the facial expression was still in its early stages, even he could recognize that this smile seemed different from the ones he was accustomed to witnessing. He was fairly certain that whatever emotion was driving Gaara was not joy.

This positioning left Sai with a conundrum. Yes his first objective was to grab Yakumo and escape the bloodbath, but he had an opportunity here. While she might not have been on the same level as Gaara, Fu or even Kurotsuchi, Karui was a fairly strong competitor. If he and Shigure attacked from both sides perhaps they could remove a notable threat at the game’s outset.

But Yakumo’s justu would take time to prepare, too much time if some minor village Genin had the courage to attack a kunoichi from the major villages the second the barriers fell. Most of the Candidates had seen her stumble before the interview, was that enough to make her a tempting target to a village with something to prove?

He observed the Genin surrounding Yakumo. Dosu from Oto seemed to be prioritizing the Cornucopia from his stance, while the Genin from Shimo seemed to be looking elsewhere. If neither went straight for Yakumo, then he should have enough time to launch an attack at Karui, but if they couldn’t take her down quickly that would both leave Yakumo vulnerable and the battle would likely draw in other Candidates, the other Kumo Genin Omoi for one.

Sai made his decision as he unfurled his scroll and quickly drew a sketch, just a few more seconds before the barrier fell.

‘Bong!’

The hawk roared to life from Sai’s scroll. Jumping on its back, he took to the air, heading swiftly towards Yakumo. Behind him he heard a clash of steel, evidently Shgure had gone straight for Karui only for the Kumo kunoichi to counter with her blade.

However what caused Sai to involuntarily turn his head back towards the direction of his Ame “ally’ was not the sound of metal on metal, but a pair of blood curdling screams.

The screams had startled Karui and Shigure as well, who quickly disengaged after their initial exchange and were slowly backing away from the sight before them.

As far as he could tell, everyone on Sai’s side of the Cornucopia was frozen in place, simply staring at the writhing masses of sand floating in the air. It seemed Gaara had entrapped the two candidates unfortunate enough to be lined up on his left and right.

The two floated in the air, screaming for help from their village partners, their allies, their mentors, Sai believed he even heard one of them scream for their mother, as sand seemed to constrict around them in slow motion. Then an audible squishy crunch and suddenly there was no more screaming.

The lumps of sand collapsed from the sky onto the very platforms where the two Candidates had been standing just mere moments before. As the sand receded from its likely unrecognizable victims to return to its master, the bodies were shrouded in a bright white light, before sinking into the ground below. So that’s what the other seal on Sai’s back did.

Gaara merely stood on his own platform, his sand surrounding him, his eyes darting around the arena looking for a target. When his eyes made contact with Sai in the air, the Konoha Candidate for the briefest of moments, felt a heavy thump in his chest, before Gaara looked away. He wasn’t the one the jinchurki was looking for.

Not finding his target the Gaara ignored those around him and started to gradually walk forward onto the water, toward the Cornucopia.

Suddenly the sounds of jutsu and combat from the other side of the Cornucopia seemed to flood into the cavern, breaking Sai and virtually every other candidate who had been on this side of the Cavern out of their stupor. He hadn’t even realized that he was simply floating in the air staring. He couldn’t waste any more time, he was a shinobi and this was a battlefield.

So he turned back towards Yakumo, who remained on her platform transfixed on Gaara who was still walking towards the Cornucopia. Luckily it seemed everyone near her had scattered in an effort to get as far away from Gaara as possible. Sai’s hawk dived towards his partner, landing on the ground right behind her.

The sound of Sai’s landing startled Yakumo, though the girl’s expression turned to one of relief upon seeing her partner. She grabbed onto his outstretched arm, as he pulled her onto the hawk.

As they once again ascended into the sky, Yakumo’s shout may as well have been a whisper as the noise from all the battling Candidate seemed to be amplified by the echoes of the cavern. Yet he could still hear her words.

“How do we fight that?”

That was a good question. Objectively speaking Sai always knew that he wouldn't be able to take Gaara out head on, but seeing the jinchurki’s power was different from reading the reports, analysis, and estimates ROOT’s intelligence had drummed up. No matter, he didn’t need to take out his target in a frontal assault. Indirect methods were often the most effective in his line of work.

But before he could articulate those thoughts to Yakumo, the ink hawk they were riding suddenly spun out of control. Grabbing his partner, the two lept from the hawk down onto the hard rock floor below them, barely avoiding an unusually sharp stalagmite on the ground. On closer inspection it seemed every stalagmite in the cavern had been honed to a sharp point. Clearly a game maker designed feature.

His hawk wasn’t as lucky, being impaled on a number of the spear like rock formations. As it dissipated into a puddle of ink, he noticed an arrow clatter to the ground. It seemed that there was an archer in the arena, an unusual choice of a weapon for a shinobi.

At least the numerous stalagmites provided some cover, likely shielding Sai and Yakumo from the site of whatever marksmen had shot them down. Considering the speed of the hawk, and its status as an aerial target, this archer had to be quite skilled and powerful to bring down Sai’s creation with a single shot, likely signifying that whichever Candidate had fired the arrow, came from one of the Five Great Nations.

The status of this archer would cost the Konoha genin their air superiority, as they would surely make a far more tempting target from the air than they would on the ground. Especially since Sai had no idea where the archer had fired from, an unfortunate situation that seemed unlikely to be resolved given the new status of the Cornucopia.

A thick black fog had enveloped the island in the center of the cavern, obscuring both the Candidates presumably fighting within the fog and the structure that housed all the weapons and supplies the gamemakers had been generous enough to lay out. Surly a jutsu of some sort, the Gamemakers would never release a hazard that would negatively affect the audience’s ability to observe the action.

Any remaining thoughts of attempting to grab a blade from the Cornucopia were banished from his mind. Between the black fog, the archer, and Gaara the island would be a death trap. At the moment the fog was their largest concern as it seemed to be expanding from the center of the cavern at an alarming rate. Sai estimated that the fog would cover the entire cavern within the next ninety seconds.

That didn’t leave a lot of time to find their allies and escape the bloodbath. Speed would be of the essence. He grabbed Yakumo, who let out a startled yelp, and pulled her onto his back. A piggyback ride was hardly the stealthiest method of travel for shinobi, but in this scenario it would be the quickest.

With his training the extra weight barely impeded his normal speed, as he zigzagged from stalagmite to stalagmite, attempting to keep cover in case the archer still had the pair in their sights. Racing for the outer edge of the cavern, he once again caught sight of Shigure who was on a stretch of ground between the end of the ‘forest’ of stalagmites and the tunnels on the outer walls.

Sadly it seemed the Ame genin had resumed his battle with Karui. Worse than that, Shigure was clearly losing this duel, as the swordswoman had him on the backfoot. While the genin’s umbrella did seem to double as a weapon in hand to hand combat, Sai could tell even from here, that that was not its primary purpose.

Shigure kept trying to back away, to make some distance between himself and Karui, likely in effort to utilize his weapon and jutsu to their proper purpose. But Karui would not let up, pressing her opponent further, with an impressive mix of power, determination and skill. Much likely sooner rather than later, she would run him through.

Yakumo on his back, a growing cloud of black fog chasing after them, an ally on the brink of defeat and the potential threat of an archer just waiting for an opening. If Sai was to get out of this with himself, Yakumo and the alliance intact he would have to pull off his next move perfectly. Shouldn’t be a problem, above all else his training with ROOT demanded perfection.

As he burst forward from the forest of stalagmites into the open space, he adjusted Yakmo on his back, allowing him to pull out his scroll, quickley drawing two superbeasts and summoning them forth. The whole motion took less than a second, a testament to years of torturous hard work and practice. One beast jumped over Sai landing behind him, to shield them from any potential attack while the second leapt forward towards the dueling Karui and Shigure.

Karui, to her credit, had not been solely focused on the opponent in front of her, displaying a keen awareness for the battlefield and her surroundings, by leaping away just as the super beast nearly pounced on top of her. A startled Shigure nearly fell down, as he jumped away from the ink creature. A quick look around allowed him to notice Sai, and his expression of surprise turned to one of relief for having received the aid of an ally. Evidently Shigure had not left his battle with Karui unscathed, and was sporting a rather nasty looking cut going down his left side. But despite appearances Sai could tell the damage was largely superficial, and the Ame genin would not be notably impaired by the injury.

Seeing herself now staring down three enemies instead of one, Kauri leapt back into the forest of stalagmites, running towards the black fog, A wise retreat, though by running into the darkness she likely forfeited any remaining chance she had of finding her teammate in the chaos.

Sai’s first superbeast remained to defend his back. It seemed the archer had moved onto other targets. That or they were dead, but it likely wasn’t in their interest to stick around and find out.

The fog was nearly at the edges of the stalagmites. It was unlikely they would be able to find Shigure’s village partner Ajisai. Three out of four of the alliance members surviving the bloodbath was surely an acceptable ratio, though it would be hard to predict Shigure’s emotional response if they abandoned his teammate. He might get angry, but Sai was confident the logic of the situation would win out.

Confident that Karui was not simply hiding in the fog waiting for a chance to strike, Sai turned to Shigure ready to convince him to flee the bloodbath, only to catch a figure moving along the cavern walls. Turning scroll unfurled ready to face this potential new enemy, only to see very Ame genin he had planned to abandon a moment before, darting towards them from along the shadows of the wall. .

It seemed Ajisai, a short dark haired kunoichi who like her partner was wearing the standard Ame uniform, had run straight for the edges of the cavern from the opening gong, and had been slowly, and discreetly circling the area in search of her allies. An admirable strategy.

The four of them stood (well three, Yakumo was still on Sai’s back after all) staring each other down. He would complete this mission, for better or worse, this was his team. The fog had moved past the stalagmites, and they stood only a few meters away from the cloud’s outer edges.

“What are we waiting for, let’s get out of here,” Yakumo stated with a surprising amount of force from a person being given a piggyback ride.

Shigure nodded towards the rest of the group, and sheathed his umbrella in a holster on his back, not too different from one a person would expect from a swords’ wielder, before turning towards the nearest tunnel, and breaking out into a run. Sai followed after him, and from the barely audible sounds of her feet on the rock floor, he could tell that Ajisai was following after him. Without speaking a word they had instantly created a formation, as the group ran single file through the tunnel.

The instant after Ajisai entered the tunnel, the entrance collapsed behind her, stranding them in complete darkness. But the alliance did not break their stride or look back. They needed to create distance between themselves and the center of the arena, and a blocked entrance wouldn’t stop a determined enough adversary.

So they ran in the dark for minutes on end, sometimes on a level path, sometimes uphill, but the group never stopped running. Any sounds from the bloodbath faded as they ran further, and as their little sprint reached its 20 minute mark, Sai wondered if the battle at the Cornucopia was reaching its end.

Even running single file with Shigure (surely the slowest of their group after Yakumo), leading the formation this tunnel was taking much longer to escape from then Sai had originally estimated. But near the 30 minute mark there was at last a sign of light ahead, as a small circular opening the same size as one that led them into this cavern appeared.

It took an instant for even Sai’s highly trained eyes, to adjust but it seemed that there was a small creature, roughly the size of one of Kakashi’s smaller ninja hounds, standing at the tunnel’s exit. Shigure clearly noticed the creature as well, and as the formation reached the cave entrance the large Ame Candidate, unsheathed his umbrella, swiftly striking the creature without breaking his stride.

The Ame and Konoha shinobi burst out of the tunnel at last coming to a stop. However, unlike the entrance in the cavern, this one did not collapse behind Ajisai after the group exited. Sai felt a tug on his shoulder, and instantly lowered himself to the ground, allowing Yakumo to finally get off of his back. He heard a briefly muttered “thank you” from his partner before the girl glared at him, and began dusting herself off.

He took in their surroundings, the tunnel had taken them to a clearing in the middle of a forest filled with real trees rather than pointy rocks. Good. While Sai was trained to deal with any environment, even he couldn’t deny that like most Konoha shinobi, he was most adept in the forest. In the distance, he saw a large mountain, the largest he had ever seen, and likely the location of the underground cavern.

Ajisai was also making note of their surroundings. She had all the air of a professional, maybe not on his level, but he could work with that. Shigure meanwhile was hunching over the creature, which he’d knocked nearly halfway across the clearing with his strike, seemingly killing it instantly.

The Ame Genin rose with a smile, displaying the creature to the rest of the alliance. “Protein.”

On closer inspection it seemed the creature was some type of wild cat, not unlike a lynx, but it wasn’t a species Sai recognized, though admittedly his ROOT studies of flora and fauna did not extensively cover the continent’s felines. Regardless, it was unlikely to be poisonous, and Shigure was right, it would be a good source of protein. Enough to give all four of them a satisfying meal that night.

All at once Sai realized just how quiet the forest was. Sure there were the normal sounds of wind rustling through the tree branches but those were the only sounds in the forest. There were no birds flying, no sounds of small creatures scurrying around, not even the sound of any insects chirping.

Sai reexamined the lynx. They could just be in an oddly empty area of the forest, and closer inspections of the surrounding areas may uncover other signs of life, but he could not dismiss the possibility that this singular small feline could be their only source of food in the arena.

30 Minutes Earlier

The fog was becoming a problem. Butchering the two candidates that had been unfortunate enough to be placed along his sides, did leave Gaara with some satisfaction, especially after going weeks without being able to satiate his desire. By advancing towards the Cornucopia, he had hoped to find his target in the melee, someone with the same eyes as him wouldn’t pass on the chance for combat. But this massive dark cloud that had emerged from the other side of the structure, had made tracking them down nearly impossible.

Painful truth of the matter was that he wasn’t a sensor, something he had never regretted before, but now as his prey scattered among the darkness, fleeing the cavern, he wished it was an ability he possessed. He tried scattering small particles around the area in an effort to find an opponent but there was a certain weight to the fog that prevented them from spreading. Temari would’ve been useful in this situation, perhaps she could have cleared the air, but no his father’s daughter wasn’t here.

No he would have to make due with zero visibility. The sounds of battle ceased a few minutes after the fog descended, and stealth became the game at hand. Even the slightest sound could give away a Candidate's location and bring down upon them the blades of every other competitor in the area.

There was a quick muffled scream on the other side of the Cornucopia. If there was anything Gaara was good at it was identifying screams. This wasn’t one of fear or drawn out pain, but rather the surprised shout of a Candidate who had been eliminated with quick ruthless efficiency.

Less than a minute later, he heard a second identical shout. It seemed someone, likely the caster of the jutsu, was able to detect their targets in this fog.

The enemy might have the advantage of “sight” but Gaara’s ultimate defense didn’t need visibility to activate, as a wall of sand formed to block an arrow aimed straight for his back. Finally, some combat.

With all the speed and brutality he could muster, he lashed a quick whip of sand in the direction the arrow came from. Nothing. Well it was literally a shot in the dark. A few more arrows and he'd be able to pinpoint the archer’s location.

Gaara got those arrows, however the first one came straight from the front, aimed for his forehead, while the other simultaneously came from his left, attempting to pierce his side. A clear attempt to test his automatic defense, one he passed with flying colors as the sand blocked both arrows with ease.

Two arrows shot at the same time from different angles, both from a different direction than the first one. Either he was dealing with three archers (unlikely since all three arrows had the same silver handle) or he was facing an opponent who could manipulate their projectiles in flight.

Impenetrable darkness and arrows that could come from any conceivable direction, a deadly combination. Well for anyone other than Gaara. It was clear that the archer’s arrows were neither fast enough to get around his shield, nor powerful enough to pierce through it. A conclusion the archer had likely reached as well, as no more arrows came in his direction. Just when it seemed like things were getting interesting, he was once again left alone, unsatisfied.

A blood curdling scream in the distance beyond the pool surrounding the Cornucopia. Another candidate dead, but this was unlikely the work of the archer, the scream was far more drawn ott and pained than the previous two kills. Yet the location of the scream was a sign that the other Candidates were retreating from the Cornucopia and likely fleeing the cavern rather than risk being picked off one by one.

This was supposed to be the Bloodbath, yet with only two unsatisfying kills to his credit, it was not living up to the implicit promise that came with the name of the Games’ opening engagement. Still not all hope was lost, whoever ‘won’ the Bloodbath would typically attempt to seize the resources of the Cornucopia for themselves. He would just have to wait for the fog to clear, someone would surely still be here, tempted by the weapons and supplies.

So Gaara made his way to the very top of the Cornucopia, surrounding himself with his sand shield and waited. And waited, and waited. There were no more screams, no sounds of combat. Oh there were a couple muttered whispers on the outer edges of the cavern, but they were gone before Gaara could make a decision on whether or not to investigate. The only other noise was the sound of collapsing rock, as tunnel after tunnel closed.

After five minutes of waiting, the fog at last dissipated, leaving Gaara alone in a seemingly empty cavern. The pool of water now had quite a bit of red running through it, and the weapons around the Cornucopia seemed a bit more scattered than they had at the opening gong, a few with a few splashes of blood covering the ground as well. But for all the signs of battle there were no other Candidates.

All that waiting and not a person in sight, he wanted to scream, unleash all of the pent up rage and bloodthirst he had built up in the last few weeks. In a rare moment of self control he avoided doing so. Lots of places to hide among the stalagmites, no he wasn’t alone, he was sure of it. Someone was still here, someone who could help him prove his existence.

He would find them, all he needed was a little perspective. His sand shield collapsed around his feet, before solidifying again into a platform. Using the platform, he slowly lifted himself into the air, until he nearly reached the cavern ceiling. For the first time he could observe the entire area.

The cornucopia was placed perfectly in the center of the pool water, which itself was a perfect circle. On the edge of the cavern it seemed the entrances to nine of the tunnels had collapsed. The gamemakers clearly wanted to separate the Candidates, but in reality they did Gaara a favor. He could make his way through a few rocks easily enough, and at the end of each of those tunnels he’d surely find at least one other Candidate. By using the cavern as a base of operations, he could hunt the others at his leisure, knowing exactly which routes to follow.

But he’d have to control the cavern first, and while it seemed empty even with an aerial view point, he remained convinced that he was not alone. There was another Candidate in the cavern and priority one remained exterminating them with extreme prejudice.

There! Something was moving by one of the stalagmites by the edge of the pool. Gaara dared to smile, a monstrous, demonic smile. Countless viewers watching this moment around the continent, felt their blood run cold, as they stared upon the image of a true killer.

In that moment, as Gaara prepared to unleash his full fury on whoever or whatever was lurking among the rocks, the pool of water below him exploded.

He just barely managed to move the sand platform out of the way of the massive torrent of water, as this human made geyser slammed into the ceiling with the force of a dozen paper bombs, shaking the entire cavern, causing stone debris and water to rain down below. However despite this tremendous pressure, the ceiling held, sparing the cavern’s occupants from a cave in. Water from the blast splashed across the entire space, with large puddles forming in the spaces between the stalagmites.

Even though he avoided the attack, the force of the blast had thrown Gaara off of his platform, sending him hurtling towards the rocks below. But even with all of the chaos and debris, his sand was of one mind, one purpose, catching him before he could be impaled on the rocks.

While that was a much softer landing than potentially getting skewered, it still knocked the wind out of him. Gaara found himself in the rare position of gasping for air, as he struggled to sit up and observe his surroundings.

He was floating just near the edge of the pool which was now a lot shallower than it was mere moments before, as much of its contents were now pooling around the cavern. On closer inspection it seemed the water level was actually continuing to recede.

“Aw man that was supposed to finish you off,” a cocky voice shouted out.

Gaara whipped his head towards the Cornucopia, but still no one was there. However, between him and the island, a large sphere of water was gradually rising above the pool’s surface. He watched as the sphere continued to grow and take shape. Within moments it was several meters tall, dwarfing the cornucopia in size. Protrusions resembling spikes grew out of the sphere, and its front seemed to open, creating a sharp toothed mouth.

“You know how long it took to prep that? I must have been molding chakra for at least five minutes there.”

Once the sphere (well now it looked a lot more like some kind of demonic fish made of water) had finished forming ,the head and torso of a white haired figure, with shark-like teeth of his own emerged as a protrusion from the ‘fish’s’ head.

Suigetsu smirked as he unsheathed a blade almost as tall as himself. “Well I guess it wouldn’t be any fun if you went down that easy,” the Kiri Candidate stated. “Now come on, let's settle this, monster vs monster.”

By this point Gaara was completely on his feet as his platform continued to float above the rocks. Fine. If Suigetsu wanted a monster, then Suna’s Jinchurki would give him one. He emptied his remaining sand from his gourd, forming it into dozens of floating orbs which he used to surround himself. He was ready.

For a moment the pair of Genin just stared at each other, daring the other to make the first move. Everything other than the two combatants seemed to fade away.

At last, Suigetsu launched forward, moving his entire creature with him, as he moved forward, sword raised, bearing down upon Gaara at a surprisingly rapid speed.

Suigestu was fast, but Gaara was faster as he launched six of his floating orbs toward the approaching Suigetsu with the speed of bullets. He didn't expect his counter attack to be lethal, honestly it would be a little disappointing if the fight ended on the first exchange. There was a certain joy in playing with one’s food after all. But the Kiri Candidate’s reaction would be an interesting test of his opponents abilities.

To Gaara’s surprise, Suigetstu neither attempted to block nor dodge his sand, rather continuing to move straight forward towards the jinchuriki with reckless abandon. He watched as each of the sand bullets tore through Suigestsu’s face and torso, but rather than the spurts of blood Gaara was accustomed to witnessing as a result of such blows, the effects of the attack were splashes of water.

A water clone? No it would’ve been dispelled by the sand bullets.

Gaara had no further time to contemplate his opponent’s unique biology, for in an instant, Suigestu was upon him. With a strength that had been developed by years of intense upper body training, Suiguestu brought his blade down upon Gaara, aiming straight for the jinchurki’s head.

The sand orbs might not have effective projectiles, but they quickly reformed together into a new shield to protect their master from potential decapitation. Sword met sand, but despite the resistance of this new found obstacle, Suigestu continued to push his blade downward, trying with all his might to to push through the barrier.

The shield bent, but it did not break, ultimately halting the sword. Despite a layer of sand being the only thing between Gaara and a sharp piece of steel only a few centimeters from his forehead, he smirked. His opponent might not know it, but he had already won.

Sands tendrils sprouting from the shield quickly wrapped around the sword holding it in place, and making their way up the shaft, towards Suigestsu’s arm. The boy might have been made of water, but Gaara would figure out a way to crush him nonetheless. Given time anything was possible.

Suigestu struggled to pull his blade out of the sand,, but it was ultimately a futile effort. If he was smarter he would’ve simply let go of his sword, and retreated to force distance between himself and Gaara, but Suigetsu wasn’t the sharpest kunai Kiri had ever produced. More than that he was a swordsman, and a swordsman would never surrender their blade to the enemy.

Just as the sand reached the hilt of the blade, one of the spikes from Sugiesestu’s hydro fish form, shot off from the creature, slamming directly into Gaara’s sand shield drenching it with water. With the sand softening from the water absorption, Suigestu was able to at last rip the sword from the tendrils, falling back a few meters in the process.

10% of Gaara’s shield was now practically unusable. Water users were always the most annoying opponents, as their attacks would weigh down his sand. Annoying but not a real problem, he would be able to use his chakra to expel the water in time, and he could just make more sand to fulfill his needs in the meantime. Discreetly, out of Suiguestu's view, he detached a portion of sand from his platform sending it to the rocky cavern floor behind him. Suigestu might have the power to call upon the sea, but Gaara would drown him in an ocean of sand.

He could hear Suigesu’s heavy breathing. The original geyser attack must have taken an enormous sum of chakra. Maintaining this hydro fish body of his was likely draining whatever he had left at a fairly quick rate. Yet, the shark toothed Hozuki clansman, merely brushed the remaining grains of sand off of his sword, never once losing that cocky smile he had matinted since revealing himself.

With renewed determination, Suigetsu launched himself again towards Gaara, this time shooting several water spikes as he swung his sword.

Gaara had learned his lesson from their previous exchange, splitting his shield into several parts, using just enough sand to block each spike, while protecting his remaining supply from getting drenched. What he had left once again blocked Sugiestu’s slash.

However instead of retreating this time, Suigetsu pulled his sword back and struck again, simultaneously launching two more spikes in the process. Splitting his sand once again, Gaara blocked the spikes and the blade, but with each exchange, his shield became thinner and thinner.

That was when Gaara realized the true problem he faced. He had been so focused on Suigetsu, that he had overlooked the environmental impact of his opponent's opening attack. The hardrock of the cavern was drenched with water making it too difficult for the small portion of sand he had sent out to break it down and create more of itself in sufficient time. If he was going to win this battle he’d have to do it with the remaining sand he had left.

Suigestu continued to push forward, relentlessly striking at Gaara with each of his attacks supported by a barrage of water spikes. For the first time in his life, Gaara found himself on the backfoot of a fight as he struggled to keep up with the Kiri Candidate’s attacks.

Occasionally Gaara would counterattack, lashing out with a whip of sand, but Suigestu showed no regard for his own safety allowing each strike to hit him directly, using water from the hydro fish to replenish his body. If he wanted to win he would have to separate Suigestsu’s creation from his body.

Gradually Gaara lowered himself to the ground, allowing him to use the sand from his platform to reinforce his shield. But even so, his supply of sand continued to fall at an alarming rate.

Luckily the volume of Suigestu’s hydro fish had also greatly diminished over the course of the fight as he was clearly dipping into the last of his chakra reserves. This was no longer a battle of skill or power, but rather one of quantity as it became about what would run out first; Gaara’s sand or Suigestu’s chakra.

With one hand, Suigetsu swung his sword diagonally towards Gaara’s neck, repelled by a shield of sand, but this time rather than holding firm the shield burst apart at the force of the impact.

Yelling triumphantly Suigestu swung again, Gaara’s sand rushing to reform but not moving quick enough to block the cut.

Suigestu’s sword seemed to move in slow motion. Gaara couldn’t block it, he couldn’t dodge it, he could only watch as it came closer and closer to his neck. Was this what Yashamaru experienced all those years ago? He closed his eyes for the first time in years.

“What The Fu-!”

Gaara’s eyes reopened just in time to watch Suigestu’s sword clatter to the ground. The Kiri Candidate’s sword arm had burst into water from the wrist, as Gaara noticed a small dart attached to a rope was piercing through it.

Sometime Earlier

Matsuri didn’t know how long she’d been under water. She didn’t know if she was alive or dead, she couldn’t see a thing in the darkness. Her stomach still hurt and she was pretty sure she was still breathing. Okay alive, she was alive. Probably.

Her mind was clouded, she was in a daze, but the one thing Matsuri still had was her instinct to survive. She pulled herself out of the pool, doing her best to remain silent. She still couldn’t see anything, but she crawled on her hands and knees forward. Keep moving forward, keep moving forward.

What was it the academy instructor said? When you’re wounded in enemy territory you were supposed to…what, what was it?

‘Find cover silly girl,’ said a voice in her head that sounded suspiciously like Lo-sensei. Or maybe it was her Mother. Probably not a good sign when she couldn’t even keep track of the voices in her head.

The pain in her stomach grew worse, even this minimal form of exercise was causing her body to scream out in agony, but she refused to utter a single groan or wail of pain, and kept moving forward. At last, feeling around in the fog, she reached a stalagmite, and did her best to maneuver herself behind it, using what was left of her strength to lean her back against the rock.

Okay she had cover. Not great cover, or even good cover but she did have cover. Lo-sensei would be so proud. Or maybe just disappointed that Matsuri couldn’t even make it a few seconds into the Games before getting wounded. No, Lo-sensei wasn’t like that. She rewarded successes rather than punish failures. She was a good sensei, Matsuri just wished that she was a better student.

Her eyes felt heavy, but she refused to close them, clinging onto consciousness. Yet even with her eyes open she still saw nothing but darkness. Her hand involuntarily clenched. She needed something to hold onto, something to fiddle with. Her hand moved into her pocket and grasped her Johyo. A weapon probably wasn’t the best stress ball, but it was the only thing she had.

It was probably for the best that she was holding it. She couldn’t hide forever, sooner or later an enemy would find her and she’d have to be ready. Well as ready as a bleeding Genin fresh out of the Academy, soaked head to toe in water could be.

Light! That was light. She could see! Well sort of, her vision was still a little blurry. Matsuri wasn’t sure if that was from the blood loss or sudden change in light. If it was light again, then she wouldn’t be the only person who could see.

As ‘great’ as her cover was, her stalagmite wouldn’t protect her from view for long. She had to get out of here, find one of the tunnels and maybe she could apply one of the rudimentary medical techniques she learned in the academy to her wound. It’d be tough, she was barely past the point where she started when the Games first began, but she could do it, just have to be quiet and avoid open space as much as possible.

Still clutching her Johyo in her right hand, Mastrui slowly made the effort to stand up using the stalagmite as support. With a bit of struggle she was able to fully stand up, though admittedly she was still leaning against the rock.

BOOOM

The ground shook, and the sound of the explosion behind her drowned out the noise of her startled shout. She fell back downwards, hitting the stalagmite harshly, as she collapsed to her knees. Already drenched from her time in the pool, Matsuri found herself covered in a new layer of water as it splashed down from the ceiling. Water wasn’t the only thing raining down on her, as a heavy rock fragment just barely missed hitting her directly on the head.

Every time she felt like she was getting her bearings together it seemed the Games had other ideas for her. She was disoriented for a few seconds, though in her defense the arena was a fairly disorienting experience, before hearing a voice call out from the direction of the pool.

Matsuri crawled to the side of the stalagmite and dared to poke her head out from her hiding spot, only to see Suigestu emerging from the pool of water. To make matters worse he seemed to be staring down Gaara who was only floating around 10 meters from her locations.

The universe hated her, that was the only explanation. Why else would it be cruel enough to put her in the Games and now have her trapped in the same vicinity as the two most terrifying genin she ever had the misfortune of meeting. She rather stared down the Kazekage himself than deal with those two right now.

However, perhaps the universe was finally smiling down on Matsuri as it seemed Suigestu and Gaara were about to face off. If they were too distracted fighting each other, then maybe she could actually escape from the cavern.

They might not have noticed her yet, but they were a little too close for comfort, standing and running would probably just draw their attention. Looked like she was gonna have to crawl away again.

But Matsuri didn’t run or crawl away as she watched, Suigetsu and Gaara launched their first strikes against each other. Her mind screamed at her body to flee, but her body remained transfixed to its spot behind the stalagmite to watch the fight in its full glory.

She’d never seen Gaara actually fight before. Oh she heard all the stories, of the sand and especially of the blood, but it was different seeing it for real. Her ‘partner’’ despite all of his brutality and use of overwhelming force, fought with a certain elegance she hadn’t expected. An elegance she’d never seen from another Genin.

Yet despite that elegance, even she could tell he was losing. That was impossible, the Jounin called him the ultimate weapon. He was unbeatable. Yet here he was being pushed to his limit by the very same swordsman who had nearly cut her in half only a little while before.

The two clashed over and over again until at last Gaara’s sand, after such valiant and persistent resistance, seemed to falter. Suigetsu pulled back, preparing to lunge forward again with a strike that would surely find its mark.

The thing about Matsuri was that she didn’t have great aim. Oh she could hit her target more often than not, if it was close enough, but she was hardly a markswoman. She couldn’t pin a bird by its wings or hit a small moving target on the outer edge of her Johyo’s range. No she was just a little above average, with a weapon almost no else actually trained with.

She hadn’t even realized she was standing, nor did she realize she had launched her Johyo until the dart was already in flight. She’d heard veterans talk about how sometimes a moment in battle could seem to move in slow motion, but she’d never actually believed it until that throw. She watched the entire flight of the dart, as it flew straight in the air toward the combatants, piercing straight through Suigetsu’s wrist.

If she had attempted that throw ten more times, she probably would’ve missed ten times, but it didn’t matter. She’d thrown it perfectly on the only attempt that actually mattered.

Suigetsu’s sword clattered to the ground, and the wild eyed and bewildered Kiri Genin turned his head searching for what had attacked him. His eyes locked onto Matsuri, who had completely forgone her cover to launch that attack, and she saw a confused look of recognition on his face, as he realized who had literally disarmed him.

That distraction proved costly for Suigetsu, for while Gaara had been vulnerable for a few seconds, that brief window of opportunity was gone. With perfectly a horizontal slash of his now reformed sand, Gaara took advantage of Suigestu’s wayward eyes, to cut through his torso, completely severing Suigetsu from his hydro fish and the pool of water he had been using to replenish himself.

Separated from it’s maker, the hydrofish collapsed back into the pool, as Suigetsu himself collapsed down onto the hard rock floor of the cavern. If he had been lucky he might have been able to crawl into the pool, reform his now misshapen body and escape. But if he was lucky he wouldn’ have been fighting Gaara in the first place.

Every last bit, grain and particle of Gaara’s remaining sand seemed to descend on the prone Suigetsu, attempting to smother him. The Kiri genin struggled and thrashed as he was covered, head to toe in the deadly substance, until he was completely entombed in the sand.

Even trapped in this inescapable coffin, Suigestu continued to resist, as Matsuri could make out what seemed to be arms writhing in the mass of sand, desperately trying to claw their way free. But the movements became slower and less erratic and after a minute of struggling, they had ceased altogether.

A bright white light shone through the sand, and just like that it was over. One more Candidate down.

Matsuri had been so transfixed on the sand that she had nearly forgotten about its master, but he had not forgotten about her. She felt his eyes bearing down on her as she slowly turned to face her teammate in name only.

As she faced Gaara, her adrenaline faded and her body once again screamed in protest at the exertion she had undergone despite her wound. But she stayed on her feet, as she looked towards Gaara in their eyes. She did not look away or avert her gaze.

Rather she laughed deliriously, louder than she had ever intended, louder than she ever would have in a public place surrounded by people who would have judged her. After all, despite Gaara and her being the only two people remaining in the cavern, there truly was no place more public than this, as every broadcast of the Games displayed this moment for it’s confused continent wide audience. Even Gaara seemed startled by this uncharacteristic reaction from her.

But neither the thought of all the people out there watching, nor the thought of a violent reaction from the often homicidal jinchuriki entered Matsuri’s mind, as she looked into or rather around Gaara’s eyes. In her state, her mind had grasped onto one stray thought, one she could not escape nor distract herself from anymore.

“You look like a raccoon,” Matsuri laughed out, as at last she gave into her body’s demands, losing consciousness as she fainted, a surprisingly soft layer of sand catching her before she could hit the hard cavern floor.

Chapter Text

Kurotsuchi didn’t like jerky. It was tough, dry, and little bits always seemed to get stuck in her teeth. Jerky was a popular provision among shinobi on missions. It didn’t spoil, it was easy to carry in sizable quantities and it was a good source of protein. Which is probably why it was the only food in the pack she had wrestled away from Omoi at the Cornucopia.  If she had known that was the only contents of the bag (well along with a spool of ninja wire and a roll of bandages) she would’ve let the Kumo swordsman have it. She had managed to kick him into the pool just as the fog hit, and had no idea what happened to him afterwards.

If she hadn’t been lined up only a few candidates away from Akatasuchi, odds are she would never have found him in the first place. Sadly he wasn’t the only one who had been nearby at the Games’ outset. 

“Pass the jerky Kusu,” came the annoying voice to her side. 

Kurostuschi had been hoping the chaos of the Bloodbath would give her the chance to ditch Fu and the so-called ‘Twin Pearl Alliance’. But sadly, the mint haired menace had been positioned right next to Akatsuchi. They didn’t know what happened to her partner from Taki. Nakari had been on the other side of the Cornucopia when the Games began and finding him in the fog was practically impossible. 

Especially with a hidden archer seeming to pick off Candidates one by one. Kurusutchi had just barely been able to dodge an arrow aimed straight for her forehead, losing a couple strands of hair in the process. No, sticking around the Cornucopia any longer than they needed to just wasn’t an option.  It took the combined efforts of both her and Akatasuchi to drag Fu out of the cavern without Nakari. That was a lie, the two of them had barely been able to make her budge. Kurotsuchi never thought she’d meet a Genin physically stronger than Akatsuchi, much less someone as tiny in comparison like Fu, but without a doubt the Taki kunoichi had a monstrous strength. 

A few hushed whispers from Kurostuchi has been enough to convince Fu that Nakari had likely already fled the cavern. After all Gaara must have been on the other side of the Cornucopia as well, and from what Kurotsuchi had gathered from the boy, he wasn’t one to run directly into the path of an insane jinchuriki.  She didn’t know it but Kurotsuchi had likely extended the lives of every single Candidate in the arena with those words, as Fu’s relentless determination would’ve driven her straight into Gaara’s parth. Two jinchuriki going head to head in an enclosed space would have surely forced a cave in that would’ve killed them all.  Had Akatasuchi tried to calm Fu down back in the cavern, he surely would’ve failed. While Kurostuchi was ignorant of her ally’s status as one of the nine most powerful weapons on the planet, she was even more ignorant of just how much Fu had come to value her in such a short time. 

Kurotsuchi reluctantly took a bite out of her jerky. Even now she could feel a bit of getting stuck in her molars. That was gonna bother her all night.

 This wouldn’t have been a problem if Fu had caught that lynx at the end of the tunnel. But no she had been so enamored by its “cuteness” that she had allowed it to scurry away. They could be eating fresh meat right now, and with literally no other signs of life in the section of the forest their tunnel had emerged from, they could use every bit of food they could find. Well at least they had plenty of sponsor money, if worse came to worst, they wouldn’t starve. 

Though it would be more accurate to say Fu had plenty of sponsor money. Kurostuchi’s father had told her that Taki had collected the largest pool of sponsors of any village competing in the Games. A rare feat for a second-rate village and sadly another reason they had to keep Fu around. 

“So what do you guys do for fun in Iwa?” Fu asked, interrupting Kurostuchi’s inner musings. Even with their smoldering fire, just strong enough to give the barest amount of light while not giving away their position to any Candidates on the prowl, Kurotuschi could make out the smile on Fu’s face. Seriously, where was her off button? 

“I love rock climbing,” Akatsuchi responded. He seemed to genuinely like Fu’s relentless energy. Of course he did, Akatsuchi liked everybody. Why couldn’t he see that this girl was insufferable?

“Rock climbing?” For the first time since Kurotuschi had met her, Fu seemed confused. “Isn’t that a little easy? I mean we can all walk up trees and walls.”

“It’s a lot more fun without chakra,” Akatsuchi chuckled, somehow his mood seemed lighter than it had been in the days leading up to the Games. “And it’s great training”.

“No chakra! Aren’t you afraid you’ll fall?”

“Falling down’s part of the fun isn’t that right Kurotsuchi.” Akataksuchi playfully elbowed his partner and longtime friend who sent him a glare in response.

“Oh you like rock climbing too, Kusu! Maybe you could teach me how,” Fu exclaimed with her usual excitement. 

Kurotsuchi merely grunted, hoping that barrest of affirmations would be enough to end this conversation. Sadly Akatsuchi was a friendly extrovert.

“Oh she loves it. One time when we were still in the academy we tried climbing this large cliff right by her Grandpa’s house. Kurotscuhi lost her grip about halfway up and ended up falling the whole way down. Knocked out her two front teeth. First thing she said was ‘Leth go again’”. Akatsuchi had put an extra emphasis on the ‘th’ sound in his impression. 

Kurotsuchi’s face turned red as she stood up and slapped her best friend in the arm, not quite hard enough to hurt but with a little more force than a person would describe as playful. 

“That’s not funny Akatasuchi!” It took two months of treatments from the medical ninja to regrow those teeth, some of the dumber Genin in their year still made fun of her for it, though most of them were smart enough to know not to needle someone who could wipe the floor with them. However, by the sound of Fu struggling to suppress her laughter, she could tell that even today she was the only one who didn’t find that story funny. 

“It’s not funny!” she repeated. “You just told that story to the whole world!” 

Akatauschi, still with a smile on his face, nonetheless looked a little apologetic. “I’m sure it’s alright. I mean they’ve got to have something more interesting to broadcast right now than the three of us sharing stories around a campfire.” 

“I’m sorry Kusu, I shouldn’t have laughed.” Kurotsuchi could tell Fu’s apology didn’t quite reach her eyes, which still beamed with a foolish joy. 

She was cursed to be surrounded by idiots, that was the only explanation. They were trapped in an arena with nothing but enemies wanting to kill them, and these two were cracking jokes. However, part of Kurotsuchi's subconscious was relieved to see Akatasuchi returning to his normal jovial self, even for a moment. 

“So Fu what do you do for fun in Taki?” the large boy asked. 

For the first time since Kurotsuchi had met Fu, the girl's smile was gone. Despite the small kindling of a fire burning in front of them, it felt as if the temperature had dropped several degrees. Fu brought her knees to her chest.

“I guess I didn’t really do anything,” the suddenly sullen mint haired girl replied. 

“Nothing?” The word had inadvertently escaped Kurotsuchi’s lips. Despite privately vowing to stay out of this conversation, she found herself continuing to speak. “Didn’t you and your friends do anything?”

Fu flinched as if she had struck her. Kurotsuchi almost found herself feeling bad for her ally. She didn’t know what she had said wrong, but obviously whatever it was had tripped some kind of wire for Fu. She wasn’t trying to be hurtful, though all of her attempts at being hurtful since the trio had escaped the cavern had been interpreted as good humored ‘ribbing’. But now it seemed she had brought Taki kunoichi to the brink of tears without even trying. 

“I don’t really have any friends in Taki,” Fu muttered. “Everyone’s too afraid to be my friend.”

The idea that anyone could be afraid of Fu was practically absurd. Sure Kurotsuchi feared their interactions, but that was a reaction born out of annoyance. There was nothing Fu had done that could be considered even slightly intimidating in the buildup to the Games. 

Well that wasn’t entirely true. The girl was strong, absurdly strong, she’d seen that, or more rather felt that in the cavern. She also scored a perfect 10 in training. Considering the only Candidate who had ever accomplished that feat before this year’s Games would grow up to kill a 1000 Iwa shinobi in a single battle, Fu had to be an incredible prodigy, probably the best Taki had ever produced. 

That kind of ability would definitely scare a few kids on the playground. Kurotsuchi knew that better than anyone. Kekkei Genkai, Tsuchikage’s Granddaughter, the proclaimed future of the village, those things intimidated quite a few of her classmates. Not a lot of kids were brave enough to be friends with a person like that. Except for Akatsuchi of course. She didn't know what she would have done if she didn’t have him around growing up. Looking at Fu now, Kurotsuchi felt more grateful than ever for her longtime best friend. 

Speaking of said best friend, she felt him gently nudging her with his elbow. Looking towards Akatsuchi, he nodded his head towards Fu, who had now buried her face in her knees. What did he want her to do about that? He was the comforting one in their friendship, Kurotsuchi was the one who beat up anybody who looked at them funny. She tried to convey this idea of their dynamic to him with a look, but he merely once again nodded in the direction of Fu, who Kurotuschi could now hear a few muffled sobs coming from. 

As much as she disliked the Taki Candidate, it wouldn’t do them much good to have a despondent ally in the arena. Kami, how could such a skilled kunoichi be so vulnerable to her own emotions? Okay Akatsuchi wanted her to be the comforting one, she could do that again. For the sake of the alliance. Any part of her that was starting to sympathize with Fu, had of course nothing to do with her decision to be nice. Nope, nothing to do with it all. Purely a logical decision based out of reason and her own desire to survive.

Right. 

“We’re not afraid.” Not the most eloquent sentence but it was the best Kurotsuchi could do. Why was everyone looking to her for comfort these days?

“Huh,” Fu looked up. Fu looked towards her with confused eyes filled with the barest hint of hope. 

She wasn’t a gambling girl, but in this case it seemed better to double down. “We’re not afraid,” Kurotsuchi repeated as gently as she was capable of. 

Fu stared at her for several seconds. Kurostuchi had no idea whether the girl would cry or scream, but she braced herself for anything.

Yet she still found herself unprepared for the squeal and subsequent tackle, as Fu threw herself at Kurotsuchi in a bone crunching bear hug, laughing as she knocked them both to the ground.

Maybe the clear lack of any harmful intent had left Kurotsuchi vulnerable to Fu’s ‘attack’, but regardless if any her instructors in Iwa had witnessed this display, they’d have been ashamed by her inability to defend herself. Oh wait this was an international broadcast and unlike their little conversation around the fire, there was no way the producers weren’t broadcasting this moment to every theater on the continent.  

As she struggled to wrestle a still smiling Fu off of her, Akatsuchi himself broke out into a roar of laughter. She was hardly the embodiment of dignity that the Tsuchikage’s granddaughter was supposed to represent. She was not looking forward to the lecture she was gonna get from Gramps after she won the Games. 

Luckily the Games’ anthem blared throughout the arena, distracting Fu just enough for Kurotsuchi to push her off of her. She was an Iwa shinobi, so she didn’t really care that much about being covered in dirt, but the principle of the matter still left her disgruntled. She turned to berate Fu, no longer considerate of the Taki Candidate's feelings, only to see her staring straight up at the sky. Akatuschi was similarly transfixed as a large projection covered the night sky. 

Right, the anthem. It must have been midnight. They were going to see who had bought it during the  bloodbath. The sound of a gong had rung six times shortly after they had emerged from their tunnel, and it hadn’t rung once since. The other Candidates were likely more concerned with finding shelter and food since escaping the bloodbath rather than hunting each other down. There’d be time for that in the days to come.  So six Candidates were down then, 21 still left. Kurotsuchi would have hoped for a higher casualty rate on the Games’ first day, but there wasn’t anything left she could do about that. Unless she bludgeoned Fu to death before the anthem was finished, something she was sorely tempted to do. But nevertheless in a testament to her self control, dignity, and grace, she refrained. 

The anthem continued as the first picture graced the night sky. Suigetsu’s smiling face seemed even more unhinged than normal given the context. Kurotsuchi couldn’t help but smirk. The prick had talked a big game but he couldn’t even make it through the first day. It was nice to know there was some justice in the world. 

Kin from Oto was next. Kurotuschi hadn’t really paid much attention to the girl, her mummy like partner Dosu definitely grabbed a lot more focus. If she was dead she probably wasn’t worth paying any mind to in the first place. Still, her picture being the first one to follow Suigetsu still had some significance. It meant that all the other Candidates from the Five Great Nations besides the aforementioned shark tooth boy had survived the bloodbath. Shame. 

Fu released a sigh of relief next to her. That’s right Oto didn’t just come after the Great Nations in the Game’s pecking order, it came after Taki, Kusa and Ame as well. So Nakari was safe. Or as safe as a minor village Candidate wandering around the Arena by themselves could be. 

Then came the girl from Ishi and both Candidates from Tani. A little unlucky for one village to be completely out of the Games so soon. Unlucky but to be expected from such a small village that really had no business throwing themselves into the ring with real shinobi. 

Hokuto, the girl from Hoshi, was the final picture of the evening before the music came to a stop, the projection disappeared and the night sky returned to its normal black hue.

So the first day was officially over, but the first night was still in its infancy. Kurotsuchi looked towards Fu and Akatasuchi who both stared back at her questioningly. Clearly they lacked direction. Fine, stepping up and taking charge was something she was actually good at. 

Kurostuchi stood with a commanding posture, doing her best to ignore the ruffled and dirtied state of her uniform after Fu’s little display of affection, as she dictated terms to her two companions, soon to be subordinates. 

“We’ll sleep in rotating three hour shifts. I’ll take first watch, then Akatsuchi you can take the sec-”

RAAAAAWWWWWWEEEERRRR

Kurotschi immediately shifted into a battle stance, her instincts screaming danger as her eyes darted around her surroundings. Fu and Aktasuchi had similarly jumped into fighting positions and three instinctually formed a triangle to cover each others’ blind spots, their backs nearly touching as they scanned the forest for whatever had made that sound. 

RAAAAAWWWWWWEEEERRRR

Another roar echoed all throughout the arena. It was far louder than any sound Kurotsuchi had ever heard an animal utter before. She doubted there was a single candidate who hadn’t heard the guttural scream. Even though the cry was undoubtedly inhuman, she couldn’t deny sensing a deep hatred coming from whatever creature was out there in the night. 

Another roar followed suit, with another one shortly afterward. Soon the cascading roars washed over them, forming a monstrous melody as they reverberated all throughout the night. This wasn’t the work of any one creature. These were the cries of a pack…no, a horde of enraged beasts ready to descend on whatever prey had the misfortune of wandering into their domain. 

Kakashi examined the screen. Sai, Yakumo, Shigure and Ajisai were sheltering by some trees next to a nearby stream. Good, they had a source of water and a good location to rest for the night. Kakashi had spent most of the day studying the main feed once the bloodbath concluded, and there weren’t any other Candidates in the nearby vicinity. In fact most of the Candidates had been spread pretty thin. Outside of their respective allies, none of the groups of Candidates were really that close to each other. The Gamemakers clearly wanted a long competition this year, the tunnel system they created out of the cavern had effectively separated the Genin. 

“Seems like it will be a quiet night,” a silky voice said next to him. 

Each mentor had their own station from which they could directly observe their own Candidates and dole out sponsor gifts. But Ame’s mentor Konan had sat herself directly at Konoha’s station right next to Kakashi. To be fair they were allies, and this wasn’t exactly an uncommon practice. Many of the other allied mentors were sharing a station at the moment. Easier to coordinate when they were sitting together. Still, something about the bluenette unsettled him, and Kakashi had survived as a shinobi this long by listening to his gut. 

Still, he needed this partnership to work to have any chance of getting Sai or Yakumo out of the arena alive. So he would put his reservations to the side for the moment, but he’d still keep his uncovered eye on her when he had the chance. 

“Yeah, it doesn't look like they’ll have to worry about the other Candidates, at least for tonight,” the Copy Ninja agreed. 

“We should really agree to a sleep schedule. Someone needs to keep a watch over them, but we need to rest too.”

It was a sensible proposal, Kakashi definitely didn’t want to have to rely on one out of Sakura, Naruto or Sasuke to alert him if something went wrong. Those three had a tendency to get distracted by something that would get the entire team in trouble. He made a note to himself to have Pakun follow those three for the remainder of the Games. 

As much as he hated to admit, sooner or later he would need to sleep. But even though they might be allied, he couldn’t trust Konan to have the interests of Konoha’s Candidates at heart any more than she could trust him to have Ame’s. But an alliance needed at the very least the facade of willingness to cooperate if it was going to last. 

 “We can work one out tomorrow. I want to keep an eye on them for their whole first night at least.” There, a tacit agreement to her proposal. He’d follow through to an extent. He could try to get a few hours of rest, even that could go a long way. However, he’d make sure to have at least three of his summoning dogs watching the Games at all times. If there was an emergency he knew they would wake him as quickly as possible.  

“Fair enough,” she replied, “I’m sure both of us can operate functionally without a day or two’s sleep.”

He mentally snorted. Right, just a day or two. 

Kakashi looked back towards the screen “The food situation is going to be a problem.”

Konan grimaced as she nodded in response. Despite Shigure’s attempts to wade the stream, it appeared to be completely empty of fish. Every single group of Genin had seemed to encounter a lynx after exiting the cavern, but since then Kakashi had seen no signs of wildlife in the arena. Nor did he notice any edible plants or fruit. The only food in the arena, beyond those solitary lynx so far, seemed to be at the Cornucopia, and with the chaos brought by the black fog during the bloodbath, very few Candidates had emerged from the cavern with any rations, and what they had ultimately amounted to scraps. 

This left Kakashi with a conundrum. He had originally planned to send Sai a blade, but a weapon would be a fairly expensive sponsor gift. He hated to admit it, but Konoha’s sponsor funds were low, much lower than the normal sum for a Great Nation. Suna and Taki had received the vast majority of sponsor money since Gaara and Fu earned perfect training scores. No lords or merchants seemed to want to invest in any other Candidates. If it wasn’t for a pair of generous donations from Lord Kuzan, who had been very enamored by Kakashi and Konan’s ‘romantic’ display at the opening ball, then Konoha and Ame’s Candidate treasuries would be in even more dire straits.

If there wasn’t another food source in the Arena, Kakashi would have to stretch out his meager funds in order to keep his Candidates nourished. As long as they were allied, the Ame Genin would need to eat too and it didn’t help matters that Konan had already been forced to deplete a good portion of her even smaller pool of cash to send Shigure some medical supplies. 

Another problem was that none of Sai, Yakumo, Shigure or Ajisai were hand to hand specialists. Sai was adept with a tanto but that skill wouldn’t do him any good if he didn’t actually have one. If the group got trapped in some close quarter fighting a gifted blade could be the difference between life and death. Food or a weapon? Safety from hunger or the ability to defend themselves? 

Not for the first time since he started this mission, hell since he became a Jounin sensei if he was being honest, Kakashi longed for the days of solo missions. Things were always a lot easier when his life was the only one he had to worry about. 

But there were no enemy Candidates near his kids, and they had enough meat from the lynx they had caught to feed themselves for the night. He could still delay this decision a little longer, see if the situation cleared up in any way. 

He looked back towards the main feed which had spent the last several hours cycling between the different sets of candidates. Not the most interesting entertainment, but the masses would likely still be satiated by Gaara and Suigestsu’s clash for a little while longer. Speaking of the Suna jinchuriki, he had definitely received the most screen time since the bloodbath had ended. 

Gaara was still in the cavern by the Cornucopia. That was surprising to Kakashi who didn’t think the boy would waste any time trying to hunt down his competitors. However his partner Matsuri received a pretty nasty wound during the scuffle and was still unconscious several hours later. Gaara’s surprising attempts to tend to the girl’s wounds likely earned him some sympathy points among civilians, but it was clear to anyone with even the slightest bit of training that he had no idea what he was doing. Clearly the boy was a skilled killer, but lacked even basic academy level field medic training. 

Between the conditions of the cavern, Gaara’s shoddy efforts at bandaging the wound and the complete lack of effort to sterilize the cut, Matsuri’s injury would surely become infected. The girl would inevitably succumb to fever in a matter of days. Kakashi wouldn’t be surprised if she never woke up from her slumber at all. 

Few in Suna likely cared about Matsuri’s impending demise, the girl had already played her part and put on a respectable enough showing by saving their ultimate weapon. Baki, sitting alone at Suna’s mentor’s station, certainly gave no signs of concern for the young Genin. 

However Gaara continued to stand over Matsuri, transfixed by his comatose partner who was resting on a bed of the jinchuriki’s own sand. He had only ever moved from that spot to retrieve medical supplies and water from the Cornucopia, and there were no indications that he planned to leave the cavern or the girl anytime soon. 

The prudent part of Kakashi was grateful for this situation. As long as Gaara remained in the cavern he wouldn’t be an active threat to Sai and Yakumo, that would potentially give the pair time to prepare for an eventual encounter. At the same time another part of Kakashi was dreading Matsuri’s death. Who knew how Gaara would react when his partner finally succumbed, and a mentally unstable jinchuriki was practically a walking natural disaster.  

But Gaara wasn’t the only threat in the arena as the feed suddenly cut away to the Taki-Iwa alliance. It seemed Fu had launched herself in a flying hug toward Kurotsuchi, and the large boy Akatasuchi was now laughing as the two rolled on the ground. Kakashi could practically feel the glare Kitscuchi was sending Shibuki from the Taki-Iwa station. Despite the seemingly innocent nature of the interaction, Kakaski reminded himself that this trio was likely the most dangerous group in the Games. 

It seemed four alliances had successfully been formed in the Games buildup. The Konoha-Ame alliance certainly had one advantage going for them at least, being the only group to have all four candidates involved leave the cavern alive and together in a single group. The aforementioned Taki-Iwa alliance was down a member, with Nakari from Taki wandering around with a fairly noticeable limp on the opposite side of the mountain that seemed to be at the Arena’s center from the rest of his teammates. There was little chance he’d be able to reunite with the others. 

Kiri and Kumo had formed a rare alliance between Great Powers, though with Suigetsu’s death they were missing their heaviest hitter. Still Kakashi had seen that Karui was a skilled swordswoman from her clash with his Canidates, and Yuki the announcer for the Games, had credited Kiri’s remaining Genin, Seiren for unleashing the black fog during the bloodbath, also crediting her with two of the kills that said obstruction had prevented the audience from witnessing. Her status as the jutsu caster likely accounted for her ability to meet up with Karui and Omoi despite the chaos. The group had set up base around a small pond in the forest, and were currently roasting the lynx they had caught at the end of their tunnel. 

The last alliance seemed to be an even rarer three village agreement between Oto, Ishi, and Shimo. It seemed the minor villages felt like they had to go big or go home if they had any chance of coming out on top. Unfortunately for them this alliance had already essentially been cut in half with Oto and Ishi losing their female candidates in the Bloodbath, while Shimo’s male Candidate had been separated from the rest of the alliance, and was currently camping by himself on a ledge about half way up the mountain. 

All the Candidates who’s tunnels went out onto the mountain seemed to be by themselves. Shizuka from Nadeshiko was set up in a cave on the opposite side, while Hoshi’s Sumaru had emerged close to the mountain’s peak. It was a fairly tall and steep summit, though the weather was fairly mild all things considered. No one would freeze to death, unless there was an ice jutsu involved. 

The last set of Candidates were the pair from Kusa, Karin and Muku. These two were on the furthest edges of the arena, seemingly doing their best to stay as far away from the other Candidates as possible.

Karin Uzumaki. 

Kakashi looked over towards Kusa’s mentor Zosui. He promised Nartuo he’d dig up any information he could on the girl, but he knew that would be a futile effort. Any attempt to pry information from Zosui would be immediately met with suspicion and doomed to failure. It wasn’t surprising that Kusa had an Uzumaki, odds are a fair number of villages had 1 or 2 running around, but this was the first one Kakashi had encountered in some time other than Naruto and Kushina. 

Naruto’s parentage might be a state secret, but Uzumaki clan history wasn’t. Kakashi vowed to himself that once the Games were over he would sit down with the blond boy and tell him everything the law allowed him to. 

“What was that?” Konan’s suddenly worried voice snapped Kakashi out of his thought process as he stared back at his screen. 

All of sudden the largely laid back atmosphere of the mentors’ center shifted into one of alert attention, as a series of loud roars rang from every station and the main feed. Kakashi looked to the screen as Sai, Shigure and Ajisai sprung to attention, quickly assembling into a formation around Yakumo, and slowly backing away from the trees towards the stream. However Kakashi’s eye was not on the Genin even as Sai unfurled his scroll, and Shigure unsheathed his umbrella. Rather he stared into their surroundings. 

While Kakashi's normally proficient night vision was limited by the quality of the broadcast, he could still make out a shape in the shadows. 

Slowly a large black cat emerged from the treeline, growling lowly from the back of its throat, as it moved forward. He had seen his fair share of wildcats in his career, but nothing quite like this. In many ways it resembled a panther, but it was at least twice the normal size for the species, its fangs were so long they could’ve been mistaken for tusks and they were as sharp as finely honed kunai. Its claws gave off the airs of well crafted knives. Its eyes were more golden than yellow, and betrayed an abnormal level of anger for an animal. It seemed too intelligent to be a natural creation, yet too feral to be a summoning. 

Despite its physical traits the most disconcerting aspect of the creature was its grace and the purpose with which it stepped forward. Even with his Sharigan covered, he could tell there was no wasted energy in this movement. It proceeded with a natural born efficiency that a shinobi could only achieve with years of training. That it had been able to get so close to the Genin before they noticed, only revealing itself with its cries, spoke volumes to this beast’s capabilities as a hunter. 

Worst of all it wasn’t alone, as several more of these saber toothed panthers emerged from the treeline. Kakashi was able to count around a dozen in total creeping towards the Genin.

By the shouts coming from the other mentors all across the room, he could tell that this wasn’t an isolated incident. Packs of these creatures were surrounding every single Candidate in the Arena. A glance towards the main feed, which was quickly cycling through shots of the different groups confirmed this. 

As the seconds ticked by, it seemed everyone both in and out of the arena was holding their breath. Then hell broke loose. 

As one, every single panther in the entire arena simultaneously roared. Even through a screen the sound of the collective scream was deafening. An experienced shinobi withstanding that roar would be discombobulated. A Genin would be reduced to a wreck. 

But Sai wasn’t a normal Genin. As the first panther pounced forward, his face was blank slate, completely composed. Moving his brush across his scroll with a speed most shinobi would envy, he summoned forth a super beast, which collided with the panther in mid air, wrestling it to the ground,

Even in the dark of night, Kakashi could see splotches of ink splattering onto the ground, as the Panther bit into the neck of Sai’s creation. The panther quickly began to overpower the construct, and within a few seconds it burst apart, its neck crushed by the creature's powerful jaw. 

The remaining panthers had hung back watching the Genin, studying how they reacted, observing and learning. Kakashi could hear shouts and the frenzied animalistic sounds of violence coming from the main feed, but remained focused on his own Genin’s fate. 

It seemed the pack had deemed Sai’s response to be an inadequate deterrent, for now four of the panthers jumped forward, each one targeting a different Candidate. However the other three had managed to regain their composure, in the brief few seconds Sai had bought them. 

This time Ajisai lept to the group’s defense. The young Ame kunoichi had brought a package of seals into the arena with her for the one designated weapon each Candidate was allowed. She had pulled out one of said seals the second the panthers had first emerged from the treeline, and as this wave jumped forward , she activated it. 

A large blinding light flooded the night as Ajisai’s seal appeared to be the equivalent of a hand held flash bomb. The panthers were stunned by the sudden flash, their eyes likely designed for hunting in the darkest hours of the night were particularly vulnerable to such a bright light. Those that had leapt forward missed their marks and stumbled as they hit the ground, the rest shied from the glare. 

Ajiasai must have signaled the rest of the group because they were prepared, closing their eyes right before the flash. They wasted no time while the panthers were stunned as Sai drew and conjured a large hawk from his scroll, pulling Yakumo onto its back while Shigure and Ajisai also jumped aboard. They took off before the predators could recover. In such a brief time, the quartet seemed to have already formed an effective unit. 

Kakashi breathed a sigh of relief. 

“GET OUT OF THERE.” 

The panicked shout grabbed the attention of every mentor in the room and had come a few stations over from Shibuki, who seemed like he was on the verge of a complete breakdown. Kakakashi looked back towards the main feed.

Nakari had broken out into a full sprint in an effort to escape the pack pursuing him. The boy was fast, with an athletic build, in some ways he reminded Kakashi of one of Guy’s students. Under normal circumstances he may have even been able to escape his pursuers. But the boy’s injury from the Bloodbath had left him hobbled, and he was gradually losing speed. 

The panthers following him, however, showed no signs of tiring and were quickly gaining ground. Anyone could see that the outcome was assured. 

Nakari jumped into the trees, hoping that the height would be enough to help him escape, but the panthers displaying powerful hind legs also leapt into the tree, continuing the chase, hopping from branch to branch as adeptly as any shinobi. If anything they were catching up even faster now, as their claws allowed them to gain traction on the branches allowing them to launch themselves faster and further with each leap than the Taki Genin. 

It was during one of these jumps that the inevitable finally happened. As Nakari attempted to jump from one tree to the next,one panther that had been jumping from the very peak of the treetops, landed on him in midair, its claws piercing his back, tackling him straight down into the hard Earth below. He screamed the whole way down, silenced by the loud ‘thunk’ of the impact. 

The remaining panthers leapt down from the trees, and surrounded the pinned down and barely struggling Nakari. For Shibuki’s sake, Kakashi hoped the young mentor averted his eyes for what came next. At least it was over quickly, as a bright light shone through the huddle of feasting panthers, and the sound of the gong rang through the arena as Nakari’s body sank into the Earth. The cries of anguish coming from the Taki-Iwa station led Kakashi to believe that the former Victor had watched every blood curdling moment. 

Konan nudged Kakashi and pointed to their own screen, “They’re in trouble.”

She was right, the quartet’s escape from the panthers seemed short lived. Sai’s ink creature, while capable of holding him as they flew through the air, wasn’t designed to carry four people at once. It still managed to stay aloft, but it wasn’t moving any faster than Kakashi could estimate the group could run and it was only barely flying higher than the tree tops, as it flew down the course of the stream. As the other group of panthers had down with Nakari, their pursuers had taken to the trees and were quickly gaining ground on the ink hawk. 

Sooner or later the hawk would crash or one of the panthers would get close enough to make the leap and bring it down. But that was the conclusion Kakashi was sure that Sai would reach too. In the brief time he had attempted to get to know the boy, he had learned that the ROOT operative was a cold calculating strategist with a keen eye for analysis. He would get his team out of this situation one way or another. 

Suddenly a rain of senbon descended from the hawk. By the yelps and startled growls, it seemed like they had managed to piece at least a few of the panthers. The feed caught sight of Shigure standings at the end of the hawk smiling with his open umbrella. It was a decent attack but the majority of the pack seemed unfazed by the deadly rain, and continued their pursuit unimpeded. Still or 8 or 9 pursuers was better than 12, if it came down to a fight Kakashi was confident the 4 Genin would be able to win. But they wouldn’t be able to fight and escape unscathed, and as Nakari had illustrated mere moments before, even a small injury could lead to certain death in the arena. 

The ink hawk continued to fly down the path of the stream for a good kilometer, until the stream led into a large lake. This seemed to be the moment the Genin were waiting for, as another large flash gleaned from the Hawk. Ajisai must have set off her light bomb seal a second time. 

The seal was just as effective in the second use, disorienting the panthers with many of them losing their footing in the tree and falling down to the ground below. It would be wishful thinking to hope that fall would kill any of them, but the distraction was just what the Genin were looking for, as the hawk took the temporary reprieve from its pursuers to dive straight into the lake. 

Smart. The water would wash away their scent, and hopefully by surfacing on the other side of the lake they’d be able to finally escape the predators. 

The sound of the gong once again rang out through the arena. Kakashi looked back toward the main feed to witness the replay of the death of Shimo’s male Candidate. It seemed the boy had been using a few ice based jutsu in an attempt to fight off his attack, but stuck on on the rocky uneven edges of the mountains, had lost his footing and stumbled. 

Which had been just enough of an opening for a panther to jump on him, pin him down, lower it’s head and bite. The fangs had gone straight into the boy’s neck killing him instantly. This was shaping up to be a bloody night.  

As Kakashi waited for his Genin to surface, he kept his eye on the main  feed which continued to rapidly cycle through the other Candidates' battles with these saber-toothed creatures. 

It seemed Dosu’s metal arm was some kind of sound based weapon, hardly a surprise coming from Oto. The low hum coming from the weapon seemed to have an adverse effect on the panthers, who kept their distance from the mummy boy and his allies. But the boy seemed strained by the action, probably only he could say how much longer he’d be able to maintain the jutsu. 

Far more impressive were Omoi and Karu, who's teamwork and swordsmanship managed to fend off the large wildcats while their ally Seiren’s arrows picked off any beast that tried to outflank the pair. They’d manage to cut down half of their attackers already, but those that remained had learned from their predecessors' mistakes and were hanging back just out of reach of the pair’s swords, waiting for an opening. 

Stuck on the mountain’s peak, Sumaru would have in theory been trapped with nowhere to go, but it seemed that Hoshi had resumed it’s star training, as the boy managed to hover above the mountain outside of the jumping range of the panthers, thanks to a set of purple chakra wings that almost resembled a butterfly. Further down the mountain, Skizuka outraced the panthers, who’s sharp claws were less adept for climbing rock compared to trees. 

The feed suddenly switched again to Karin and Muku, with the latter attempting to fend off the panthers with a series of explosive katon techniques, as they ran away. This method of defense had started a small forest fire, creating an unintentional barrier between the two Kusa shinobi and the panthers. Fire was certainly a useful tool to fend off a dangerous wild creature, and it seemed that like the panthers chasing Kakashi and Konan’s own Genin, this set was just as sensitive to bright light.

But the fire wasn’t quite as bright as Ajisai’s flash bombs and the flame and smoke was likely doing just as much to block Muku’s view of the creatures, as it was deterring their ability to track him. Which is why he probably didn’t see a singular panther that had managed to maneuver around the flames, until its fangs were biting straight through his leg. 

To the young prodigy’s credit as a shinobi, he didn’t scream out in agony or even panic, rather quickly dragging out a kunai, shoving straight into the panther’s eye socket, killing it instantly. The sounds of panthers roaring, indicated that the rest of the pack had also found a path through the flames, and were gradually making their way closer. Muku somehow managed to gather enough chakra through the pain, to blast another barrage of fiery willow wisps to fuel the fire, desperately attempting to buy himself a few more minutes with the flames. 

Nevertheless, as he pried the dead panther off of him, it was clear the creature had taken out a pretty big chunk of leg. No one short of Tsunade would be able to get him walking again, and even she would likely need several hours of surgery and medical ninjutsu treatment to pull that off. But Muku didn’t have hours or the world’s greatest medical ninja in his corner. The remaining panthers would catch up to him soon, if he didn’t bleed out first as a large pool of blood was forming around his leg.  

It was at this point Muku at last cried out, but it wasn’t the wail of pain or a plea of desperation that Kakashi expected. Rather the yell sounded like a command. 

“Karin!” Muku shouted with whatever energy he had left. 

The feed cut to a shot of said Uzumaki girl, who had been several steps ahead of the boy when the panther had attacked, and had been frozen by the sight of her village partner bleeding out on the forest floor. Kakashi saw a look of hesitation, and maybe even strangely a glimmer of hope, before she relented and rushed towards the fallen Muku. As a former ANBU operative, and a self declared expert of body language, the silver haired mentor detected little love lost between the duo. 

But Kusa was a village that emphasized the importance of teamwork, maybe not to the extent of Konoha, but to the point that abandoning a wounded teammate would surely be considered a fairly heinous action. Still Kakashi didn’t really know what good Karin could do as she attended her partner. She wasn’t going to outrun the pack if she was carrying him, and even if she could, his blood loss would kill him soon enough. 

Kakashi, where are you? KAKASHI PLEASE.

A bead of sweat formed on Kakashi’s brow. That wasn't a moment he liked to remember, but it had been at the forefront of his mind a lot in these last weeks. A lot of unpleasant memories had started resurfacing since he took this mission, not that they ever truly went away in the first place. They were an important reminder, those who abandoned their comrades were worse than trash, and whether or not Karin had ever heard a similar sentiment in Kusa, the girl was right not to abandon her partner, no matter how bad his condition was. 

Though no one watching the Games, sans Kusa’s mentor, likely expected what happened next. As she attempted to pick him up, Muku ripped off Karin’s sleeve and bit down hard on the girl’s uncovered arm. Had the pain and fear of his imminent death driven the boy mad? Wildcats weren’t venomous, but maybe the Gamemakers had coated the panther’s saber-like teeth with some kind of hallucinogenic. No, that was probably a step too difficult even for whoever had bred these apex predators. 

A sudden green glow engulfed Muku, but this was different from the normal light from the seal that activated the moment a Candidate died. The light shined for a few seconds, and suddenly to Kakashi’s surprise the boy was standing on his own two legs. A quick shot of the previously destroyed appendage showed it to be perfectly healed, albeit covered in blood, with his pant leg reduced to tatters. 

As if he had never been injured, Muku pushed past Karin and broke out into a sprint. The girl was dazed for a moment before following after him, before the feed cut away again back to Omoi, Karui and Seiren. 

Well that was certainly an interesting ability, Kakashi had never seen a medical jutsu quite like it before. What had just happened would likely be the subject of several medical studies for years to come. Karin would be quite the valuable bounty for the victorious village. The thought sickened Kakashi. Progress at the expense of young lives, that might as well be the Games’ motto. 

For someone with years of experience in the special forces, this mission was proving to take a bigger toll for him than he had anticipated. He hadn’t watched a single edition of the Games since he had emerged victorious oh so many years ago. Oh sure he read the reports, kept track of any promising Victors, but there was just something about the Arena that was different from any of the other countless life or death missions he had been on. A bit of anxiety and nausea was beginning to form in his stomach

“Are you okay,” came the hushed whisper to his left. 

He glanced towards Konan, who actually seemed to have some sense of concern in her eyes. While some amateurs might have found that comforting or reassuring, an old paranoid veteran like Kakashi had alarm bells ringing in his head. 

Yes he was having a bit of a moment, but he was a well trained expert, likely one of the best in the world, at masking any internal turmoil. Maybe someone like Guy or Tenzo who knew him well enough after years of working together (dare Kakashi admit, friendship), might be able to recognize any miniscule tells that showed he wasn’t completely alright, but a woman he’d only ever interacted in person with for a few minutes before today should never have been able to see through his metaphorical mask. 

To see through him with such minimal history, that required a Uchiha level of observation skills that could only come from a shinobi of incredible skill and renown. The fact that he had never seen her entry in a bingo book or even heard of her before these Games, could only mean Ame had done it’s best to keep her a secret. 

So she was either an elite ANBU operative like himself, or Hanzo’s handpicked successor. Either way, Ame wouldn’t risk revealing her existence at the Games unless they had something big in mind. Something messy that Kakashi may have just inadvertently dragged himself and Konoha into the middle of. Maybe his Genin were rubbing off more on him than he thought. 

Most shinobi wouldn’t have arrived at such a conclusion from a simple well meaning inquiry. Kakashi Hatake was not most shinobi. But he’d play along for now. Regardless of what Konan actually was, building a psychological profile of her could be vital to the future of Konoha-Ame relations. To do that would require playing along.

That entire thought process ran through Kakashi’s high speed mind in less than a second, allowing him to respond without missing a beat. “I’m perfectly fine, just a little worried for the Genin.” 

She didn’t believe him, but was tactful enough to act as if she did, a behavior in itself that was worth mentally noting down. “Well your Candidates are certainly lucky to have a former Victor as their mentor, I’m sure they found your insight helpful.”

“Well you know Genin, they think they're invincible until they realize they aren’t.” That elicited a chuckle from her. “You seem close to your Candidates, are you their Jounin sensei?” 

In the briefest moment before she responded, Kakashi could tell she debated telling a truth or a lie. What he couldn’t tell was which one Konan actually picked. “No. I never instructed Genin before this mission. Our leader wanted to take a different approach given the circumstances of this year’s Games and felt that I was better suited than either of their sensei to carry out that approach.” 

“Lord Hanzo must have great faith in your abilities.”

“No more than I’m sure your Hokage has faith in yours.” There was just the littlest hint of resentment in that response. Was that against Hanzo or Konoha? Ame definitely had a lot of reason to resent its great power neighbors sure, but if she had an issue with Hanzo that was something he could exploit.

Before Kakashi could truly start to press her, he caught the main feed switching to the lake out of the corner of his. Both of them immediately turned their attention to their personal feed, as the four candidates finally surfaced from the water. 

They were soaked to the bone and seemed pretty bedraggled, but as Sai helped Yakumo out of the water and Ajisai did the best to wring the water out of her own hair, Kakashi could tell they would be alright. It was a good thing Sai and Yakumo’s scrolls were waterproof, that little dip in the lake shouldn’t hurt diminish their capacity to fight, and it should throw the panthers off of their trail for good. 

That hope was immediately dashed with the sound of a growl in the night. Judging by the sound’s perceived distance, and the speed the panthers had previously displayed they would likely reach the Genin’s location in a matter of minutes. 

That didn’t make any sense, Kakashi was no Inuzuka but he was a fair tracker in his own right. Anyone working with ninja dogs had to be. The water should have washed away their scent, and even bioengineered creatures shouldn’t have been able to find their location so quickly. He was missing something. 

He tried to piece everything he’d seen of the panthers togethers. Their encounter with Nakari showed they could climb but their encounters with Candidates on the mountain showed they were less adept on rocky surfaces. Their battle with Omoi, Karui, and Seiren displayed a keen sense of battlefield awareness, their encounter with Oto/Ishi/Shimo alliance a vulnerability  to certain sounds, and their pursuit of Kakashi and Konan’s Genin, along with Kusa’s, displayed a sensitivity to bright light. All this combined with a relentless drive to hunt down every single…

To Konan’s surprise, Kakashi suddenly jumped up and was looking rapidly around the mentors’ room. All of the mentors were either looking intently at their screens or the main feed, doing their best to mentally urge their Candidates forward. All except one. 

Baki, was sitting by himself looking up at the main feed with a smirk. Unlike every other mentor in the room he was completely relaxed. Thinking back, the main feed had not shown Gaara and Matsuri even once since the panthers revealed themselves. Had Gaara used his overwhelming power to quickly dispatch all of the panthers in his area? No, he was without a doubt the star of this year’s Games, every detail of such a display would’ve been broadcasted for everyone to see. 

Which could only mean Gaara and Matsuri weren’t attacked. There were still by the Cornucopia, perhaps there was a ward that prevented the panthers from entering the cavern, a sort of safe zone. But Gaara and Matsuri weren’t the only Candidates who hadn’t appeared on the main feed. 

Kakashi looked toward the Taki-Iwa station. Shibuki was still a mess from Nakari’s death, but Hatake’s eyes were on Iwa’s mentor Kitsuchi. The large man certainly seemed uncomfortable, but that had more to do with Shibuki’s display than anything. Like Baki, he was not looking at his own screen, and displayed nothing to suggest he was worried or stressed. While many shinobi trained to hide their emotions, Kitsuchi had the reputation of an easily riled hot head. A man of that temperament certainly wouldn’t be that calm if his daughter was in imminent danger. Which meant that Kurotsuchi and her group weren’t under attack either. 

While the rest of the arena fought for their lives, these two groups faced no threat. Why, what was different about them? The obvious answer was the status of Fu and Gaara as the Games’ top competitors. Could the gamemakers be trying to weed down the competition to guarantee a finale that would be the most anticipated clash in the Games’ history. No that couldn’t be it. The gamemakers were bastards. They may design the Arena and all the various traps and dangerous wildlife within it, but the samurai were ultimately in charge. They were too honorable to allow a widespread attack that purposely avoided the most popular Candidates. 

So what else was it? Kakashi thought back to before the panthers’ arrival. What were those groups doing that was different from everyone else” He thought back to his own Canidates. They were sitting around the fire, having dinner-

He sat back down in his chair. “The lynx,” he whispered harshly to Konan. “They’re only hunting the groups that killed a lynx after the Bloodbath”  

Her eyes widened in realization. “Those must have been their offspring,” she whispered back.

It was clear that whatever wildcat the Candidates had found at the beginning of the Games, weren’t actually lynx, but the cubs of this hybrid species of panthers. They weren’t put at the end of the tunnels as a protein source, but as a trap that the vast majority of the Candidates, who had been trained to find food as quickly as possible, had no chance of avoiding. If the ‘lynx’ were bioengineered just like their parents, then they’d have traits no normal feline found in nature would have. 

Kakashi continued his thought process verbally. “They must have released some kind of pheromone when they died. One that would stick to whoever was in the vicinity, that can’t be masked or washed away with simple water. That allows the adults to track their killers regardless of where they are.”

Konan was gradually arriving at the same conclusion as Kakashi. “So no matter where they run or hide the panthers will be able to track them.”

“Which means sooner or later, they’ll have to stand and fight,” he concluded. 

It would be better if that fight was sooner rather than later, the panthers had displayed incredible endurance and showed no signs of tiring throughout the night. The more energy the Candidates wasted trying to get away, the more tired they would be when the inevitable confrontation finally came.  

This wasn’t something Sai and the others had seemed to realize, as the group was preparing to flee. This was the wrong course of action, and as a mentor it was Kakashi’s job to find a way to steer them in the right direction. 

Attached to their personal feed was a keyboard. Kakashi didn’t really have any experience typing, the only computers in Konoha were used by the medical and science divisions, but he was a fast learner, as he typed a command as quickly as he possibly could. 

“Are you sure,” Konan asked him, already knowing his answer. 

Kakashi didn’t bother to respond, pressing the return key, before going back to watching the screen, hoping the response would be quick. It was. 

Sai had once again picked up Yakumo prepared to give the girl another piggyback ride as the group of four Genin had taken off into the forest in a futile effort to escape their pursuers. But they had only gone a few meters before they were distracted by the screech of a bird. 

A  falcon, the official messenger bird of the Land of Iron, and the fastest species of avian on the continent, descended from the sky, bringing the group to a grinding halt, as they observed the bird. It gradually slowed as it circled the group, a package clearly visible in its talons, before it dropped it off at Sai’s feet. Then with a final cry the falcon flew higher and higher into the air disappearing into the horizon. 

Sai gently put down Yakumo, before leaning over and opening the package that had cost Kakashi’s two thirds of the sponsor money he had collected, unwrapping a finely crafted tanto, a blade likely forged by some of the finest craftsmen a nation of samurai and swordsmiths had to offer. But more important than the weapon was a hastily typed one word message on a small scrap of paper. 

FIGHT

A shinobi was trained to follow orders, a ROOT operative was trained to follow them blindly, so even considering the circumstances it wasn’t surprising that Sai immediately started preparing for battle. The other three needed more convincing. 

It was definitely a tense ‘conversation’ if one could call it that. It was really more of a shoving match as an angry Shigure attempted to threaten Sai to leave. Kakashi couldn’t quite hear the actual words they were saying, as it seemed the gamemakers had lowered the volume on their conversation in an effort to censor what were likely some pretty vulgar swears from Shigure. A little weird to censor language the same night they broadcasted a boy being torn apart by wild animals. Kakashi would never quite get some people’s sensibilities. 

Ultimately Sai wasn’t budging, the panthers were getting closer, Yakumo wasn’t going to be able to outrun them by herself, and Ajisai ultimately convinced Shigure they were all better off sticking together. So despite some being a little more reluctant than others, the four Candidates made their stand.  

Even with only about a minute to prepare, the four were ready when the pack was finally upon them. A flash of bright light followed by a barrage of senbon and a number of super beast constructs immediately met the panthers as soon as they came into the Genin’s sight. An effective first salvo which knocked back and scattered their enemy, but it only took a few moments for the wildcats to regain their bearings and press their attack. 

Sai continued to draw super beast after super beast, Shigure would launch a new barrage of senbon whenever the creatures got close to the group, and Ajisai used her seals to atviate a steady stream of flash bombs and smoke screens in an effective effort to keep the panthers disoriented. All the while Yakumo hung back, with her own scroll unfurled painting with great fervor. 

Eventually one panther, not deterred by the light or the several senbon embedded in its hide, managed to tear through a super beast, and lunged straight forward towards Sai. With rapid speed, the pale boy pocketed his ink brush, and unsheathed the new tanto his mentor had gifted him. Even in the darkness of the night the blade shined bright. Maybe not the best feature for a shinobi’s weapon, but certainly a nice little visual that would make for good entertainment and maybe draw a few more sponsors. 

Just as the panther’s maw was mere centimeters away from his face, Sai slashed this unnecessarily shiny blade across the creature’s neck, sidestepping its lunge in the process. It was a move that required perfect timing and precision, and he had pulled it off flawlessly, as the now lifeless body of his would-be-killer slumped to the ground. 

Just as quickly as he'd had brought it out, Sai sheathed his new tanto bringing back out his brush and drawing another superbeast to fill the gap the previous one had left. 

Despite knowing each other for only a day, the group’s teamwork was efficient, especially considering this was their first time in combat together. Kakashi could only wish he could inspire that kind of symmetry in Team 7, though life or death scenarios tended to inspire cooperation more than simple training exercises or hunts for missing cats. 

Still there was a problem. The panther who’s throat Sai had cut was the only one of the pack the group had managed to kill so far. The saber-tooths were too strong and too numerous to be overpowered by Sai’s superbeasts, and their hide was too thick for Shigure’s senbon to do lethal damage. Oh they were being hindred and pushed back, but sooner or later the Ame Genin would run out of projectiles, Sai would run out chakra or Ajisai would overuse her seals. A different approach was needed. 

That change came the moment Yakumo finished her painting. 

Suddenly the four Genin were surrounded by a widespread circle of fire, creating a thick wall of dancing green flames that rose a few meters into the air. Over half of the panthers were immediately consumed by these flames, with the remainder jumping back to avoid the harsh burn.

Those that were unfortunate enough to be within the path of flames, thrashed desperately, yowling not with anger, but for the first time with fear. They stumbled out of the fire but by this point it was already too late, their bodies had been ignited, and even creatures whose physical ability had surpassed most summoning animals Kakashi had seen could not survive being completely engulfed by fire. Within moments these panthers collapsed, as the still burning fires gradually reduced their bodies to ash. 

Kakashi had read the reports on the girl, but nothing was quite the same as seeing her jutsu in action. Whatever this was, went beyond genjutsu, these flames were real. Those not in the know would mistake it for a powerful katon jutsu, something that while impressive wouldn’t exactly be unexpected coming from the Land of Fire. But she hadn’t conjured these flames, nor did she mold them out of chakra or summon them. She had painted them into existence. 

Who knew what scale she could do that on? Could she set an entire forest on fire? An entire village? For the first time Kakashi truly understood why Danzo had recommended Yakumo for the Games. This wasn’t a desperate longshot, an attempt at using a frail girl with an abnormal power to try and take down a jinchurki. No, this was a cleverly disguised execution of a wild variable that could not be controlled, before it could grow into a threat to the whole village. 

It would work, as much as Kakashi hated to admit it, Yakumo was doomed. Her body just clearly wouldn’t allow her to keep up in the arena and her jutsu took too long to prepare in a one on one fight. Displays like this would be satisfactory enough to demonstrate Konoha’s power, but they wouldn’t be enough to save her from a sudden kunai or a deadly slash of blade. A slash that may very well come at the end by the hands of the operative Danzo had placed in the arena with the very blade Kakashi had just gifted him.

The circle of flames died down after a few minutes, but even wild animals could recognize what was a clear intimidating show of force. The panthers hung back but continued to circle the Genin from a safe distance, refusing to step into the range of whatever had decimated their pack. 

Sai, Yakumo, Ajijsai, and Shigure seemed content to allow the standoff as for the first time since the clock had struck midnight, the four had a chance to catch their breath and recover their chakra. This standoff continued for hours, with no sense of breaking, with the only movement coming from Shigure who gradually collected the senbon that had littered the battlefield for reuse later. 

At last the first light of morning graced the arena as the sun started to peek its head over the horizon. This seemed to be a signal to the panthers, who turned their backs to their prey and started to retreat into a forest, a process a quick glance at the main feed confirmed was happening all over the Arena. While virtually every candidate that had been pursued was exhausted, beyond a few cuts and bruises, no one else had died during the night. 

Before the panthers fully disappeared into whatever hiding hole they called home during the day, they all looked back simultaneously towards whatever Candidates they had been hunting, and released one final collective thunderous roar.

Despite the innate difficulties of cross species communication, it was clear to everyone that this was a statement that this wasn’t over yet. They would be back.

Then the panthers were gone, completely disappearing from view, vanishing without a trace. Any hope of using the dead wildcats as a food source were instantly dashed, as all across the arena as the sunlight hit the fallen creatures, a gas hissed out of their rotting corpses, their fur falling off their bodies in the clumps, and their flesh quickly transforming into a nasty green. Anyone who tried eating that better have an expert poison specialist on hand. 

Still the night was over as was the threat of the gamemakers' monstrous creations, at least until the next sun set. Instead the threat during the daylight hours would come from the other Candidates. The second day of the Games had begun.

Even with the events of the night drastically pushing some of the Candidates a lot closer to each other than they were before, Konoha's Candidates weren’t in imminent danger, at least for a couple hours. Which gave Kakashi a little time to work on the mystery sitting right next to him. 

He turned to Konan who he had not said a word to in several hours. 

“Tea?” he asked with all the charm an insomniac who hadn’t slept in five days could muster.

Chapter Text

Sakura headed towards the elevator carrying a roll and some fruit from breakfast. She might have only known Kakashi sensei for a few months but she he seemed like the kind of guy who was so focused on everyone else’s welfare that he didn’t really do the best job of taking care of himself. If he followed his own advice to get a good meal as well as he did his own advice of getting a good night’s sleep, he probably hadn’t eaten since Sai and Yakumo had left for the Arena. So she was heading to the mentors’ room to make sure he ate something.  

Being able to move around the fortress freely felt liberating. Without samurai breathing down her neck everywhere she went, Sakura could finally think. Security had laxened significantly once the Games had begun, nobody could really sabotage each other's Candidates now that they were all in the Arena. 

The Arena. Sakura hadn’t watched a single moment of the Games so far. Sasuke and her had spent the entire first day of the Games waiting with Naruto in the dungeons after he had been locked up for his escapades the night before. They were supposed to release him as soon as the Games started, but considering the dungeon’s warden was still cleaning orange paint off of his armor, he wasn’t inclined to let her blond teammate out any earlier than he necessarily had to. 

By the time the combination of bribes, unconvincing threats and eventual begging finally wore the warden down enough to let Naruto out, night had fallen. Sakura checked the casualty list before collapsing straight into her bed. She did the same when she woke up and was relieved to see both Sai and Yakumo had made it to day 2. She didn’t really want to watch, she never really cared for the Games, and she definitely didn’t want to watch either of them bleed out on an international broadcast. But part of her felt guilty, like she was being a bad teammate, attendant and friend for not watching. It’s not like she could really do anything to help them, only Kakashi sensei could at this point. Maybe that’s why she was bringing her sensei breakfast, making sure he was on top of his game was really the only way she could be helpful. 

Finally the elevator arrived at her floor. Sadly it wasn’t empty. 

“Hey, I looked for you yesterday at the theater, but I didn’t see you,” smiled Zaku, the Oto attendant. 

Sakura mentally groaned. The creep had spent the entire opening feast hitting on her. With all the chaos of the Games’ preparation, and Naruto’s ‘legal’ troubles she had almost forgotten that, but seeing his smarmy smile brought the memories of that night back in full force. 

“Yeah, my team and I decided to watch the first day in our own suite,” she lied politely as she entered the elevator, hoping that would be the end of the conversation. It wasn’t.

“Well you guys should all come down to the main theater to watch. It’s fun interacting with all the other attendants,” he said with a wink. “Especially now that all the stiffness and formality of the opening events are over.”

“I think we’ll just keep watching in our suite,” she replied curtly. Even if she had wanted to go to the theater, which she absolutely did not if this guy was going to be there, Naruto was still under suite-arrest for the rest of the day. One final punishment from the very disgruntled samurai.

“Well that’s a shame, but you guys should totally come to the party on the bottom floor tomorrow, the Kiri attendants stole some sake from the kitchens, it’s gonna be a good time.”

“How do you have a party in the dungeons,” Sakura asked, her curiosity outweighing her own sense of unease. 

“The dungeons aren’t the bottom floor babe.” Ugh, this elevator couldn’t reach her destination fast enough. “There’s a chamber below that, the Samurai used to use for storage but now it’s empty. Attendants have been using it for parties for years.”

At last the elevator reached the floor of the mentors’ room. Sakura practically rushed out. “Thanks for the invite, but I don’t really think that’s our thing.”

Zaku stepped out of the elevator after her, it seemed that this was his floor too. Damn. 

“Come on, it's gonna be a load of fun. Everyone interesting is gonna be there: Kiri, Suna, Kumo, Taki, Kusa.” If Zaku had put a little extra emphasis on that final word, he did so with just enough subtlety for Sakura to not notice. At least not consciously. 

Kusa. Naruto was desperate for any info on Karin and he would clearly go to any lengths to get it. Sakura hadn’t seen him this invested in anything other than ramen or his dream of becoming Hokage. She had no doubt that the first chance he got he would be tracking down the Kusa attendants and interrogating them with all the subtlety he was known for. They would be too suspicious that he was looking for a weakness that he could relay to Kakashi sensei to help give Konoha’s Candidates an edge in the Arena. 

But at a party with underage drinking, with Sakura or more likely Sasuke asking the questions (he was better at that kind of thing), they might just let something slip. Something that could genuinely help Naruto. 

Naruto was her teammate, but more importantly, even if she wouldn’t admit it to Ino, he was her friend. She could tolerate a few hours fending off Zaku’s advances for his sake. Just this once. 

She reluctantly sighed. “What time?”

Zaku smirked. 

Fu yawned. She had no idea what happened last night, but the constant stream of something roaring had kept her from getting in her sleep. Judging by that and the two gongs that went off, somebody in the arena had gotten into trouble, she just wished they had been a little quieter about it. She also hoped that Nakari was okay. He was nice, and even though he was a little scared of her, he was better about hiding it than most people in the village.

They were looking for him now. Best to have the whole alliance together, that's what she told Kurostuchi. Fu’s best friend seemed a little reluctant at first, but Akatsuchi had convinced her that there was strength in numbers and it’s not like they had anything better to do at the moment.  It’s not like they knew where Gaara was and considering how loud last night’s events were, everyone was probably as tired as they were, so they wouldn’t be at a disadvantage. 

Kurostuchi had wanted to look for food, but Lord Shibuki had sent them all a very nice breakfast of rice, smoked fish, and a few canteens of water, so they were set for the moment. Plus Akatasuchi mentioned they could look for signs of wildlife while they searched for Nakari. 

Meeting the two of them was easily the best part of these Games. Fu hadn’t met anyone as nice as them in her entire life. Kusu was the best, she was so funny! The way she had stood up for her at the Candidates' feast before the Games, well no had ever done that for Fu before. She knew she had made the right choice for her first friend at that moment and what she said last night only confirmed it. She might not have made 100 friends like she planned, but two was a good start. Three if she counted Nakari, four if she counted Lord Shibuki. Maybe she was closer to 100 than she originally thought! 

The fact that those friends she had made would have to die if she had any chance of surviving hadn’t even crossed her mind. Denial was a powerful narcotic. 

“Let's rest for a second,” Kurostuchi stated from the front of the line.

“Great idea Kusu,” Fu replied enthusiastically. Kurotsuchi seemed to only have good ideas. They weren’t moving too fast, better to move slowly, and they didn’t want to draw attention by making too much noise leaping from tree to tree, plus it would be easier to conserve energy and keep track of their surroundings if they weren’t going full speed. Another great idea from Kurotsuchi. 

There was a thick cloud cover, largely blocking the sun, but nonetheless it was a sweltering day and a little water break would go a long way. Hydration, hydration hydration, that was the mantra Lord Shibuki had drilled into her during the Games’ lead up. Actually that was really the only advice he had given her, he wasn’t really that great with words. If it was somebody else, Fu might question their competency as a mentor, but Lord Shibuki was the village’s only living Victor. He had to know what he was doing, so she had hung on his every word, even if there weren’t that many of them. 

So the group took a moment to rest in a small clearing. She sat down on a large rock and took a very deep drink from her canteen, with a little bit of water dribbling down her chin. 

“Slow down, you're going to waste it,” came Kurotsuchi's irritated voice. “We don’t know when we’ll be able to refill our supply.”

Fu choked on her water and coughed up a good mouthful as if to illustrate Kurostuchi’s point. As she regained control of herself Fu looked up towards her with an apologetic smile, but Kurotsuchi merely glared. Tough crowd. That’s fine, Kusu might have a hard surface like a rock, but Fu knew she was a kind caring person underneath the surface. It would be her job to help bring that person out so that everyone else could see it too, after all friends were supposed to bring out the best in each other. At least that’s what the book she had read said. 

“You don’t have to do everything with 100% enthusiasm, you know,” Kuortuschi continued as she leaned back against a tree. “It’s a waste of energy.”

See there was Kurotsuchi doing her part to bring out the best in Fu. A good friendship leads to mutual growth, that was another thing the book had said. She and Kurostuchi were clearly taking the next step in their friendship, oh Kami this was so exciting! 

Conserving energy would certainly make her a more effective kunoichi but best not to be too agreeable though. The book had said that a little bit of conflict could make a relationship stronger in the longer run. But she didn’t want to fight with Kusu! So maybe just a little pushback, just an eensy, tiny, little bit. 

“I don’t know, I was always told you should put your best effort into everything.” There, that was perfect! 

“That’s fine for like training and fighting and everything, but maybe just tone it down a little bit with everything else.” 

‘Tone it down’, for some reason that phrase seemed to bother Fu. But personal growth was supposed to be a little uncomfortable. Growing pains as the book had phrased it. It was all part of the process, and the more she grew as a person the more friends she would make. 

“Sure, I’ll give it my best effort,” Fu replied with one of her trademark beaming smiles.

That didn’t really seem to get the ideal reaction out of Kurotsuchi, who threw her hands into the air and sighed, before turning around. “You two rest for another few minutes, I’ll scout ahead.”

“Great idea Kusu, I’ll go with you,” Fu said, as she prepared to get up. 

“No, no,” she replied, maybe a little more hurriedly than she intended. “I’ll do it myself.” 

 “But I’m a really great scout” she pleaded, attempting to give Kurotsuchi what had been described to her as puppy dog eyes. 

“Let her go, Fu,” Akatsuchi chimed in. “Sometimes Kurotsuchi  just needs a moment to walk by herself and think.”

Oh personal space, the book had mentioned that too. A good friend needed to respect boundaries. Fu didn’t really fully get that part, people back in Taki gave her nothing but space to herself and she didn’t really like that. But friends were different people with different needs and she would have to respect that Kusu might like different things to her.

In this personal thought process, Fu missed Kurotsuchi, sending Akatsuchi a grateful look. 

“Well, okay then,” Fu’s look of contemplation changed to her standard smile. “Good luck, we’ll catch up to you in a few minutes.”

Kurotushci quickly left the hearing, her voice calling out behind her “no hurry, take your time,” before she was gone, completely out of sight. 

Fu sighed. She handled that well she thought, though part of her knew she probably could’ve done better. 

Akatsuchi turned to her. “Don’t worry about Kurotsuchi, she’s used to being a bit of a loner. She’s not always great around other people.”

“Well then wouldn’t she want to be around other people more,” Fu asked innocently, genuinely not knowing the answer.

“I think part of her does, but she just doesn’t know it yet, there’s a lot of pressure on her back in the village to succeed and I think that sometimes distracts her from personal relationships, if she ever seems standoffish it’s not personal, that’s just the way she is.”

“Good to know, though I don’t really think she’s that standoffish,” she replied. 

Akatsuchi chuckled. “You might be the first person I’ve met who’s thought that.”

“I just think she’s incredible.”

Akatsuchi's chuckle turned into a much larger, wholesome laugh. “On that point I think we’re in agreement.”

Laughter was contagious and Flu quickly found herself releasing a few cackles of her own. She was really so lucky to have met them both, especially Kurotsuchi. 

That girl hates you. 

Fu’s laughter died, as she shifted from an outward conversation towards an inward one. 

‘No she doesn’t, she’s my friend.’ 

That girl hates you, you can see it in her eyes. 

‘What would you know, you stupid bug.’

I know hate and so do you. I don’t know why you can’t see it this time. 

‘She doesn’t hate me, she and Akatsuchi are my friends.’ 

You can’t trust them, or that bumbling fool you call ‘lord’. All of them would cut you to pieces without a second thought if given the chance. 

‘They wouldn’t do that.’

They would. Don’t forget little Fu, I’m the only one you can trust. I’m your only friend. 

‘You’re wrong this time.’

When have I ever been wrong before? 

That caused Fu to pause. In all the time she had been host to the Nanabi, the beetle had never once been wrong. It had warned her of danger, steered her away from disaster and identified liars without fail. But this time it was wrong, Fu was sure of that. Besides Kurotsuchi wasn’t afraid of her, she was the first person Fu had ever met who wasn’t afraid of her.

That’s because she doesn’t know the truth.  

‘SHUT UP!’

The Bug was wrong. It was wrong, it was wrong, it was wrong. It had to be wrong. It just had to. 

The Nanabi stayed silent. It had made its point, it didn’t feel the need to press it any further, So Fu and an oblivious Akatsuchi drinking his water sat in silence for several minutes as Fu was too self absorbed in her own fears and anxieties to notice anything. 

But even a person closed off to the world notices when the ground starts shaking. Fu gasped, afraid that the Nanabi’s chakra was leaking. But it only took a second to realize that she wasn’t the source of the tremble. A resounding boom coming from the west was the obvious source of the sudden minor quake. 

West. The exact direction Kurostuchi went to scout ahead. 

Any self doubt was immediately banished from Fu’s mind, replaced by fear for the girl that Fu knew was her friend no matter what that idiotic beetle said. To the gasps of Akatsuchi (who himself was hurriedly standing up, arriving at the same conclusion as her), Fu sprouted a set of long green beetle wings from her back, taking flight without even bothering to look back.

She flew west as fast as she ever had in her life, not even bothering to dodge trees, practically breaking through branches without even realizing they were there. She picked up a few scratches and bruises as a result, but they were nothing that a jinchuriki wouldn’t heal from within a few minutes. 

She wouldn’t have noticed if she was being pelted with kunai, the only thought in her head was to move forward. Her throat tightened, her stomach twisted into knots, she could barely will herself to breath. Yet even that failed to slow her down, as she soared through the air not like a bird or a fluttering insect, but as a relentless unyielding missile with no regard for whatever was in her way. 

At such a speed with such little regard for her own safety, it took Fu very little time  to make her way smash her way through the trees to a large grass field. It was a truly open space, there were trees on the outskirts but for the most part, it was smooth even ground. Well, except for the giant earth wall, that a visibly sweating Kurotsuchi was standing a few meters behind. 

Fu couldn’t quite see what was over the wall when she first broke through the tree line, but as she emerged onto the field, a large metal ball about the size of a grapefruit, smashed through the earth barrier from the opposite side heading directly for Kurotsuchi. 

Fu dived from the air, straight towards her friends with all the speed she could muster. But she was too far, her reaction to the projectile too slow. She had less than an instant to cover that distance, even if she had been fully prepared for it, she would have never made it in time. 

But Kurotsuchi wasn’t the kind of person who needed saving. She was prepared, her senses finely tuned to the battlefield. The moment the projectile made contact with the earth wall, she was manuerving her torso and as it pierced through the rock heading towards her with the full intention of reducing her intestines into a bloody paste, she gracefully bent herself out of the deadly weapon’s way, without it even grazing her. 

It’s a good thing she did.The ball breezed by her before colliding into the ground a few meters later, the force of the impact spraying a massive amount of direct and rock into the air, tearing up the crass and creating a fairly audible ‘boom’ on contact. A mini crater had formed where the ball had come to a rest, with a large earthy trail stretching to the point where it first made contact with the ground. 

A fast high powered attack. Fu did not want to see what that would do to a human body. A bit more in control of herself and a bit more aware of the battlefield, Fu noticed three more identical trails and carters in the area of ground behind Kurotsuchi, and three more holes in the wall that she had obviously created to shield herself. Judging by the rock crumblings down from the wall, it seemed to be on the verge of collapsing altogether. 

Despite this, there was no sign of panic in Kurotsuchi’s eyes. She was calm and in control, her breathing was steady, she was even smirking. By her demeanor nobody would ever guess that she was cornered. She looked towards her failing shield with determination as she brought her right hand towards her mouth.

Even from a distance Fu’s keen eyes could see Kurostuchi’s diaphragm move as she took in a large breath, for a moment her cheeks seemed to expand, before she ultimately exhaled, unleashing absolute hell in the process. 

From her mouth Kurotuschi shot out a massive dark ball of what Fu could only describe as ash. Yet it seemed to be almost solid in a way as if it was a massive boulder launched at high speed from a catapult. It collided straight into the very wall Kurotsuchi herself had constructed, but rather than bursting apart on impact, it practically punched straight through the obstacles as if it wasn’t even there.  

The wall itself completely shattered, blasting a volley of black, burning, ash-covered debris towards whoever had been dumb enough to attack Kurotsuchi in the first place. The ash ball itself collided into the ground, creating a far larger bang than the metal projectiles her opponents’ had been firing at her mere moments before. This time the ball did burst as it landed covering the whole opposite side of the field in burning hot ash. 

Within a few seconds, Kurtosuchi had reduced half of the once green lush field into a black smoldering landscape. Smoke covered the area of impact. That combined with the ash flung into the air made it impossible for even Fu’s eyes to make out any movement in the blast zone. Not that she was really looking for as she at last landed on the ground, wings still outstretched, right behind her ally. No, her eyes were on Kurotsuchi alone. 

The Iwa Candidate hadn’t yet realized that Fu was now standing behind here. No she was too focused on portraying an image that she knew the entire continent was witnessing. She stood proud with perfect posture, displaying the confidence expected from the Tsuchikage’s granddaughter. She might have a few sweat stains, her clothes were a little ruffled and her sandals were covered in dirt, but regardless of all that she was the sole focus of Fu’s mind; the perfect embodiment of a kunoichi. 

She was tough, but she was kind, no matter what the Bug said Fu had seen enough of her friend to know that was true. She was powerful, but graceful, blunt, but precise. Watching her in action was almost like watching a Princess Gale movie. The book said that friends made each other stronger and in that moment Fu felt stronger than she ever had in her entire life, which was saying something considering how physically strong she actually was. She truly believed with all her heart that together, she and Kurotsuchi could accomplish anything.

Fu inadvertently shivered. It took her a second or two to realize that, that wasn’t a result of her glowing admiration for her friend, but that the actual temperature around her had dropped several degrees. It had been a blazing hot day, and Kurotsuchi had just covered half of the field in volcanic ash. Yet as she exhaled, Fu could see the condensation in her breath. Goosebumps popped up all over her exposed areas of skin. The grass around their feet began to frost over. This wasn’t just some cool breeze, against all laws of logic and nature it had suddenly become cold, very cold. 

Well that wasn’t good. 

“Be on your guard Kusu, it’s not over yet,” Fu softly spoke to Kurotsuchi. She almost stuttered from the cold, her open toes felt particularly frozen. Her mind suddenly flashbacked to a particularly bad blizzard from when she was little, where she had lost her left boot in the middle of a snowbank. That had been a particularly miserable day.

The Iwa girl showed no sign of being startled by Fu’s presence, she must have noticed her without Fu realizing. “You don’t need to tell me that, I've got this under control. I don’t need any help, just watch out for yourself and stay out of my way,” she sternly replied. Fu barely heard the mumbled words “Doton: Kengan no Justu '' before witnessing a layer of stone encasing Kurotscuchi’s first. The Iwa kunoichi was ready to take on whoever was hiding in that ash cloud head on, that much was clear. 

Well it was nice to know Kurotsuchi cared about Fu’s wellbeing ( ‘see you stupid bug’ ) but there was no need for her to be so overprotective. Fu was her friend, ally and teammate, it was her job to help out situations just like this one. “How many of them are there?” 

Before Kurotsuchi could respond, three figures burst from the ash cloud, inadvertently answering Fu’s question. She steeled herself for the fight. The thought flashed across her mind that this would be her first real battle. After all this mission was the first time she had ever left the village so her only combat ‘experience’ came from training spars. Sure those could get pretty heated sometimes and she always won them, but her instructors consistently told her that a real fight would be different, that she couldn’t know what to expect. Still all that training and practice was designed to prepare exactly for this. She might not know for sure if she was ready or not, but she believed she was. No she definitely was. 

With newfound determination, she spread her wings to take off, ready to charge right at the enemy, only to find resistance as a strong force kept her pinned to the ground. A quick look down revealed that both her and Kurotuschi’s feet had been frozen to the ground, almost completely encased in frost. In fact their entire side of the field was now covered in a thin sheet of ice.

One of the figures, a boy, had lept directly into the air, a metal sphere forming in each of his hands. With alarming speed, he hurled the projectiles straight towards both Kurotsuchi and Fu’s heads. 

It was a shinobi’s natural instinct to dodge. After all it was a profession that emphasized agility and nimbleness. Evasion was one of the first skills a jounin sensei would drill into their students, more so than any other skill, it would give them the best chance of surviving long enough to grow and adapt into capable ninja. However, every shinobi who stuck around the profession long enough, would inevitably reach a scenario where dodging would be impossible and death would be imminent. How a young ninja reacts in that inevitable scenario is what separates the chunin and jounin of tomorrow from the tragic young prodigies who are cut down far too soon. 

Fu didn’t have that instinct, she didn’t have a normal upbringing or training. She didn’t need it. So when faced with a high speed metal object shot with the sole intention of decapitating her and trapped to the earth with no possible means of evasion, she defaulted into the only instincts she actually had developed; to meet whatever threat was coming at her head on. 

So that is what she not quite literally did. Infusing chakra into her hands she braced herself, reached her arms out forward preparing to catch the ball in a move that would’ve been borderline suicidal for any other Candidate. The ball smacked into her hands, with brutal force, continuing to spin forward, nearly tearing the skin off her palms in process. Her elbows bent back, as the projectile inched closer and closer to her face., but her hands remained firmly grasped around the metal ball, willing it to a stop, before it could make contact with her head. Her hands felt like shad just run them over sandpaper, and if she had taken the time to examine them she would have noticed they’d been rubbed into a conearning red color. It didn’t matter, the Bug would heal it in time. She could worry about her hands later now was the time to counter. 

Fu transferred the ball to right hand, reached back, and with all her strength, and unleashed the ball right back at the stunned Genin, who could barely fathom that his ultimate technique had simply been caught like a common ball. Luckily for him, Fu hadn’t quite been able to throw it quite as hard as his jutsu had launched it, otherwise that moment of hesitation would certainly have resulted in his own head being reduced to a smashed pulpy mess. Intestead he just managed to regain his bearing quick enough to duck the throw. 

That action had led to a momentary pause in the battle as every Candidate on the field stared at Fu with a mix of wonder and fear (meanwhile all their mentors countless miles away were screaming with no practical hope of being heard at their idiot Genin through their screens for not taking the opportunity to press the attack). Even Kurotsuchi, who had managed to barely duck her own projectile, and had used her rock clad fist to smash the ice imprisoning her feet, couldn’t take her eyes off of Fu. 

Those attacks had managed to break through stone like it was paper and she didn’t dogged it, she didn’t deflect, she didn’t activate a jutsu to form a barrier or try and counter it. No, she just simply caught it. Between that and the wings, the 10 rating was beginning to make a bit more sense to the Candidates who had been unfortunate enough, or dumb enough, to enter this fight. 

Having the free moment to take in her surroundings, Fu sighed in relief seeing that Kurotsuchi was okay. She followed her friend’s example and smashed the ice at her feet, but unlike Kurotsuchi, Fu used her bare fist to break through the frozen trap. She didn’t notice it, but the Shimo Candidate who had cast the jutsu, flinched at the sight of the ice she had so carefully crafted, crumbling so easily. 

None of their opponents really wanted to make the next move after seeing Fu’s displays of physical strength. That gave Fu the opportunity to finally get a good look at exactly who she and Kurtotushci were fighting. Fu had memorized the names and faces of every single Candidate in the Games. How else was she supposed to get to know them after all? People didn’t like it if you couldn’t remember their names, she had learned that very quickly. 

There was Metoro the male Candidate from Ishi who had been responsible for the metal projectiles. He was dangerous that much was clear, but she was sure she could handle it. If she had caught his jutsu once, she could catch it again. Then there was Isa, a small girl with snow white hair from Shimo. She was surely responsible for the area’s sudden drop in temperature and the ensuing icy ground. Finally there was Dosu, the last remaining Candidate from Oto. There was something about him that unnerved Fu, and she still had no idea what his jutsu was. She once again shivered, though she didn’t know if that came from the cold or his uneasy demeanor. 

Metoro and Dosu were also sporting some rather nasty burns, across Metoro’s neck and on Dosu’s left arm, the one that wasn’t covered by metal. It seemed they hadn’t been able to escape Kurotsuchi’s previous attack unscathed. Judging by the lack of burns on Isa, it was likely her ice based techniques had been responsible for them avoiding the worst of the blast.

But there was something else off about the trio. There were bags under their eyes, their posture and stances were uneven, they even seemed to be breathing harder than they realistically should have been considering the short length of time this battle had been going on for. Without a doubt they were exhausted. Fu might’ve been a little tired from the lack of sleep she had the night before, but this was different. It was almost like their enemies had already fought an entire battle before this one. 

Isa’s heavy white winter jacket, seemed to be torn notably with three large slash marks around her stomach. It seemed the girl had narrowly avoided being disemboweled by…something. Considering Kurotsuchi only carried two kunai, there was no way she was responsible for that. Clearly these three had run into whatever had made all that noise the night before. Fu was glad that she, Kurostuchi and Aktasuchi hadn’t faced whatever was capable of making slash marks that big. 

However, that exhaustion showed that these three weren’t capable of winning a long drawn out battle. Maybe they could’ve pulled something off when they still had the element of surprise or if they were able to maintain their 3-1 advantage. But now that Fu was here to back up Kurotsuchi, and both of them now had a half decent grasp on where their opponents were and what they were capable of, this battle wouldn’t last much longer. 

But if the outcome was assured, then what was the point? 

Metoro created another projectile in his palm, and once again used his chakra to launch it towards Fu with all the velocity he could. But something was different about this one compared to his earlier attacks. It was still fast, but to Fu’s eyes it seemed to be moving slower somehow, as she could track its movement towards her perfectly. There was no sense of panic, her senses didn't scream danger this time. She didn’t know if she had just adjusted to the technique or if Metoro’s depleting chakra reserves had cost him some of the serious power that had made his jutsu so dangerous in the first place.

Either way this time as the projectile made contact with Fu’s outstretched hands, she had very little issue catching it, bringing it to a firm stop without her body being pushed an inch. Simultaneously to her right she felt a sudden jet of wind, as Kurotuschi lept from Fu’s side, speeding away with a sudden boost of chakra. By the sound of a metallic ‘klang’ that could only come from two kunai clashing, it was pretty easy to deduce that she had decided to press the attack, engaging one of their foes in hand to hand combat.

A brief glance to her side allowed her  to catch sight of the exchange as Isa attempted to create distance between herself and the relentless Kurotsuchi by retreating towards the treeline. But Kurostuchi refused to allow the Shimo Candidate that distance, pursuing her opponent with her kunai barred. So that was one opponent who would likely be taken care of in short order, Kurotsuchi wouldn’t lose, certainly not in a one on one fight. Which meant the other two Candidates were Fu’s responsibility. 

Fu was in a battle, but she hadn’t actually done much fighting, she couldn’t leave all the offense to Kurotsuchi, friends were supposed to share each other's burdens after all. So with newfound determination, moving much more like a hawk diving headfirst on its prey than the beatle whose wings she bore, she flew straight towards a frightened Metoro, his own metal projectile clutched in her right hand as she prepared to strike him with his own creation. She never reached him. 

In her narrow determined view, she had forgotten about Dosu. As she had launched herself at Metoro, the Oto candidate had himself lunged towards Fu, his metal arm outstretched, attempting to strike her in her side. Between her speed and lack of awareness of her surroundings, she couldn’t divert her path, yet either Dosu had misjudged the angle to intercept her or had underestimated her speed, as he went flying past her, with no physical contact being made during their ‘exchange’. 

However, something about the near miss threw her off. She had always loved flying, it was honestly the best part about having the Bug with her, and despite some of the warnings her predecessor had left her, she had never gotten motion sickness. But as she passed Dosu, the back of her throat felt like it was closing up and her vision suddenly blurred. Her wings, which in flight had always felt as natural to her as her own legs running, seemed to lose all sense of control. As if she had somehow tripped over a root in midair, she lost her balance, and rather than colliding straight into Metoro as she had intended, she crashed into the ground next to, which was still frozen from the earlier frosting over, tumbingling heads over heal for a few inadvertent somersaults behind him, eventually landing flat on her back. That was gonna leave a few scrapes. 

As she struggled to sit up, a renewed confident Metoro prepared to launch his jutsu one final time, putting all of the little chakra he had left into finishing off the sheer tank of a person who was his opponent. A new projectile forming in his hand, he let the ball fly straight towards his prone victim. 

At such a close distance, in such a vulnerable state, Fu couldn’t dodge (not that she would have chosen to if that was the option), block or catch the ball this time. As she was about halfway towards sitting up, the ball collided with her abdomen, immediately knocking the breath straight out of her lungs. Her arms outstretched, the force of the attack didn’t quite send her flying, her legs were still dragging against the iced over ground, carrying her over to the portion of the field that Kurotsuchi had covered in volcanic ash. 

At last Fu’s ‘flight’ was ended when her back collided with a tree at the edge of the field. For the briefest of moments her vision went black, before the world came back into semi-focus. If she had taken the time to look at her stomach she would’ve noticed a very large and very ugly black blue bruise. Had there been a medic on site she’d have been quickly diagnosed with 2 or 3 broken ribs. 

She coughed, a few drops of blood coming out of her mouth in the process. Her legs were bloody, burned and covered in ash. Even her wings twitched in pain. Her clothes were in a complete mess, with several tears and stains. 

This shouldn’t be happening. She was stronger than they were, she knew that. And they were tired, she was in much better condition for this fight. Yet she was the one with her back against the wall. Well, back against the tree. In mere moments the entire balance of the fight had shifted, a single mistake, a single failed attack had left her in this state. 

She had been too reckless, too indifferent to her surroundings, too…

“Enthusiastic,” Fu inadvertently thought out loud. 

Her eyes widened with clarity. This is what Kurotsuchi was talking about! She needed to be less enthusiastic in battle, more calm, more focused, more collected, more aware of her own surroundings. Yes this was it! This was what the book had promised! Personal growth through friendship!

The fact that Fu may have been looking a little too deeply at Kurotsuchi’s words or the fact that some of  her conclusions essentially amounted to the same thing, was something that the Nanabi decided not to bring up at that moment. If Fu learned a lesson that bettered both of their chances of making it through this insane death tournament, then it wasn’t going to question her methods for arriving at the right results. After all, getting sealed into a new host was always a pain.

Achoo

“Are you alright my lord?” 

“Yes, just a sneeze. Someone must be thinking of me.”

“Does that…you know hurt with all the nose piercings?”

It was time for a new approach, yet that was easier said than done. What would Kurotsuchi do? Probably start a giant earthquake to knock them off balance and follow up by burning them all alive. Yeah no that wasn’t something Fu could do, and even if could , that didn’t quite feel like the right approach. She loved her friend but that didn’t mean she had to be exactly like her. So what was the right approach? Kami, if only Lord Shibuki was here. Someone experienced who could just give her the right answer.

Distract them. 

Oh right, the Bug. It might have been wrong earlier (very, very, very wrong) but considering it had never been wrong before today, it still had a near perfect track record. So odds were it was probably right about this. Probably. 

Okay distraction, distraction, distraction…ever notice how when you think about a word over and over again it starts to lose all meaning, wait no can’t get distracted gotta think of a distraction. Calm Down, Focus. This wasn’t really her forte, but she had one idea. Yeah that would work.

To the surprise of her two opponent who surely thought she was down for the count, (in their defense pretty much anyone else in the Games would have been in her situation) Fu pulled herself to her feet, with renewed confidence, a small smile, not the trademark gaping grin that she had already become internationally famous for, on her face, dusting herself off in the process. 

Despite half a field separating them from Fu, both Dosu and Metoro inadvertently took a step back at the sight. Even from such a distance they could see that smile. She was covered in blood and ash, she took what should have been a lethal blow, and yet there she was standing and smiling . No viewers watching the Games could blame the two boys for being a little unsettled. Hell, back at the fortress even their mentors were unsettled at the sight. Well one of their mentors was anyway. The other actually had a far more eerie smile of his own, but with all the other mentors in the room focused on the main feed, no one actually noticed. 

Perhaps that unease would explain why the two boys weren’t a little quicker on the uptake for what happened next. 

Now standing firmly, Fu began running (not flying, running) straight towards Dosu and Metoro, covering the soles of her feet in chakra in an effort separate her already worn sandals from the ash covered ground, simultaneously weaving hand signs for a jutsu her predecessor had created, one that she never truly felt that comfortable with herself, but that she had nevertheless learned even if she hadn’t quite mastered it. It just wasn’t a jutsu that ever really felt like it was her own, honestly most techniques that didn’t involve flight or punching something as hard as she possibly could didn’t feel quite right. But Fu was convinced now was the time to use it. 

As she closed the distance between them, right before making it onto the iced over portion of the field, Fu took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and opened her mouth as she completed her hand signs. Dosu and Metoro took defensive stances preparing perhaps for a fire ball, a jet stream of water or maybe even something like Kurotsuchi’s ash bomb from earlier, all techniques that would have fit with the willful mint haired powerhouse that appeared to be charging them head first. But for once, pure attacking power wasn’t what Fu had in mind. 

As she exhaled, instead of unleashing some blazing inferno (not that she could do that in the first place), Fu breathed out hundreds, if not thousands of tiny, no larger than dust, bright flashing scales. They weren’t quite bright enough to blind a person, afterall she hadn’t fully mastered the jutsu, but with her chakra levels she could create a lot of them in one go, enough to create what essentially amounted to a flashing smokescreen.

They were bright enough however to leave anyone who looked directly at them seeing colors, even if they looked at them a second too long. Dosu and Metoro who had been expecting a heavy attack worthy of an insane smiling, seemingly indestructible girl took just that extra second too long to divert their eyes, their vision blurring in the process. Which in turn left them just a little too disoriented to evade this dust cloud of scales which soon enveloped both of them. 

The scales weren’t sharp, they didn’t cut the skin on contact. They weren’t poisonous, breathing them in wouldn’t really do more damage to a person than forcing them to cough once or twice. A person could stand in that cloud for hours with no serious risks to their physical health. But for a disoriented Oto Genin, stuck in a death match, against an opponent who had received a perfect 10 in training, surrounded by a cloud of clearly chakra infused dust, one could understand why his first reaction would be to try and dispel that cloud by any means necessary, regardless of the consequences. 

So Dosu closed his eyes, stretched forward his metallic arm, and unleashed the most powerful sound wave his weapon was capable of emitting. The vibrations moved through the cloud, successfully pushing the scales away. But they weren’t the only thing affected by this defensive minded outburst. For in this moment of slight panic Dosu had forgotten about his ally. Metoro, who had blindly been attempting to navigate his way out of the cloud, and had only been standing a couple meters away, took the full force of the sonic wave, the vibrations shaking him to his core, rattling his bones and bursting his ear drums in the process. 

By some miracle the boy stayed on his feet, however between the scales and the sound wave he had temporarily lost perhaps the two most vital senses a shinobi needed in battle. Senses that he would have desperately needed in that exact moment. 

The second after casting the justu Fu had taken straight to the skies, flying as high as she could as quickly as she could, her eyes still on the ground waiting for just one of her opponents to flee the scales. She was still in her ascent when the cloud was dispelled, preventing her from getting a precise look at her target. But this was her moment. As quickly as she could, she somersaulted in the air, and dived at an angle, fist pulled back, straight towards whichever figure she could just barely make out. 

With gravity’s aid, she moved far faster than she did before. This time no one jumped in her way, or dodged or tied to counter. No this time Fu’s powerful fist made contact with its intended target, poor Metoro’s unprotected face. As his head went down, the force of the blow lifted his feet off the ground and for the shortest of milliseconds, too brief for anyone without a trained eye to notice, his entire body was in the air, before he was slammed head first into the earth, leaving a few notable cracks in the cold hard ground. By some small mercy he had lost consciousness before actually hitting the ground. A very small mercy indeed. 

Deep within the landscape of Fu’s mind, the Nanabi sighed, not quite loud enough for their host to hear. Fu finally takes a change in approach, but only as a way to set up her tried and true strategy of punching something as hard as she could. Well progress, even small progress, was progress. 

As for Fu, she found herself kneeling on top of Metoro’s barely moving chest, her clenched fist still resting on top of his shattered jaw. Okay one down. 

BONGGGG

The sound of the gong ringing throughout the Arena, startled Fu into jumping off of Metoro’s. Was he dead? Did she kill him? She never killed anyone before. Sure she knew going into the arena that there would be death involved, she was a shinobi, what training she had received had been designed around teaching her to kill. But what was conceptually inevitable felt radically different from reality. 

Wait no, he couldn’t be dead. There was no seal activation, no flash of light, no body sinking into the earth. Even now she could make out the small rising and falling of Metoro’s chest, proof that he was still barely breathing. So he wasn’t dead. Okay, good. Good? Good. But then the gong had to be for someone else. 

Fu held her breath. She hadn’t seen any sign of Kurotsuchi or Isa since the two carried their fight over into the forest. No earthquakes, no loud explosions, nothing. None of the sounds that would’ve indicated Kusu was winning her fight. No, there’s no way she lost. She was too strong to lose a one on one fight. Wasn’t she? 

Fu started breathing again, but far too rapidly and far louder than most people would consider healthy. The thoughts of restraint and composure that previously dominated Fu mind were now completely abandoned. No Kusu couldn’t be dead, she just absolutely could not be. She won that fight, she must have won that fight, that was the only reasonable explanation. Everything Was Okay, Kurotsuchi Was Okay.

An emotionless shinobi, one heavily trained to wipe away all semblance of fear might have taken advantage of this little episode to attack, but anyone without a keenly developed sense of fear didn’t survive long in Oto. Every instinct in Dosu’s body, the instincts that had allowed him to rise under his lord’s watch, that allowed him to avoid his lord’s wrath, was screaming danger about this girl. She was distracted. This was his chance to land a finishing blow, he should take it. But his mind kept showering him with images of Fu tearing him in half with her bare hand if he ‘awakened’ her from her trance. 

Was it time to activate ‘that’ technique? No, he couldn’t control it, and his lord had made it very clear it was supposed to be a last resort, one that should be saved only for the very end of the Games. Only to be used against Gaara. If he used it in any other circumstance his lord had made it very clear that if he survived the Games, he’d have wished he hadn’t. 

Metoro wasn’t getting up, he was done that much was clear. The sound of the gong surely meant Isa was dead, the girl from Shimo was strong (by minor village standards anyways) but not strong enough to beat the Tsuchikage’s granddaughter by herself. That Iwa bitch who had started this fight would be back soon, and if Fu hadn’t torn him apart by then, then she certainly would. Retreat was the only option. 

No, he had a very small chance to win this fight, to remove one of the most dangerous pieces on the board. He had to take it. His lord wouldn’t accept anything less. If she snapped out of her stupor before he reached her, or more likely she just endured his attack, he’d be dead, but it was a risk he had to take. 

He pulled his metallic arm back, ready to lunge forth for his all or nothing strike, only to be met with resistance. Stunned, he turned his uncovered eye to see a large rock clad hand gripping his arm. 

The sound of metal crunching and bone breaking brought Fu’s attention back to the real world. As she looked up she saw Dosu staggered backwards, failing to hold in a scream as he clutched his arm, his signature  metal contraption now notably having a giant crack going down the middle. A tall boy looked down on him, with a stern expression Fu had not seen in the brief time she had known him. Akatsuchi had at last arrived on the battlefield. 

The large Iwa Genin had rushed after Fu as soon as she’d flown off, but he wasn’t the fasted Genin in the world, and certainly not fast enough to keep up with a flying jinchuriki who covered a distance that would take an average candidate several minutes to traverse in seconds. The battle may have felt like an eternity to Fu, but in reality not much time had passed since she arrived at the field. 

“Where’s Kurotsuchi,” Akatsuchi said with a simultaneously calm yet intimidating anger, not removing his eyes from Dosu. 

“I’m fine Akatsuchi,” came a distant voice.

Akatsuchi and Fu both turned to their left, relief flooding into their eyes, as Kurostuchi calmly walked out of the treeline onto the field, looking relatively unharmed. The kunai she held at her side had a fairly notable splash of red. Fu chose not to think too hard about that. Kurotsuchi was safe, that was the most important thing.

A much calmer, but still Akatuschi now glanced back towards Fu, his agner replaced by concern. “Are you alright Fu?”

He had good reason to be concerned, her clothes were torn, she was covered in blood and ash. However, her appearance was much worse than her actual condition. Most of her injuries were already in the process of healing, her ribs would be sore for a few days, and the skin on her legs might feel a little raw, but jinchurkis had a tendency to shake off most non-life threatening damage. She’d be fine. 

Even if she didn’t necessarily need it, seeing Akatsuchi’s concern for her was nice in a way. It gave her a new feeling, one that she enjoyed. Seeing him and Kurotsuchi just made her want to smile. So that’s exactly what she did.

Taking this as confirmation that his ally wasn’t going to just keel over and collapse to the ground, Akatsuchi returned her smile, “I was so worried, I’m just glad you're both alright”. 

That feeling that Fu could not quite describe, something akin to joy, but that wasn’t quite right, grew even more in her. She nodded towards him before he turned back towards the wounded Dosu. The Oto Candidate's weapon was completely inoperable, he couldn’t move his arm, his allies were unconscious or dead, but he was still standing, muttering desperately to himself, as he tried to slowly back away from a battle that seemed all but over. 

They had him outnumbered 3-1 now, a complete reversal from the start of the battle. Both Akatsuchi and Kurotsuchi gradually walked solemnly towards him. Part of Fu wanted to look away, but she knew that she couldn’t, she couldn’t be a good teammate if she shied away from what needed to be done. With each step forward they took, he took a step back, his mumbling got louder and louder. Not quite loud enough for Fu and the others to make out, but if they had they would have been privy to an internal debate between a well ingrained almost impossible to defy terror and the will to survive. 

The will to survive won out. 

To the surprise of everyone, Dosu yelled out in pain. This wasn’t like his shout when Akatsuchi broke his arm, no this was more primal, guttural. It reminded Fu of the roars she had heard echoing out across the arena the previous night, and every hair on her body was standing up. Kurotsuchi and Aktasuchi halted their advance, their own instincts screaming at them not to take another step towards this wounded animal they had cornered. 

Dosu’s body thrashed around, as his limbs convulsed and twitched. Despite the erratic nature of his movements, Fu was able to catch a sight of his uncovered eye. There had never been anything noteworthy about Dosu’s eye before, while Fu couldn’t remember what color it was, if she had been pressed she would’ve just said it was’ normal’, certainly nothing like her own rather unique orange eyes. But now it was as if the eye had inverted its coloring, turning into a pure dark black, with only a small white pupil offering variety in color. 

As he thrashed, in a brief, perhaps final moment of clarity, he brought his remaining functioning arm up towards him, and violently ripped off the bandages that had been covering three quarters of his face, revealing three black as ink crooked lines running along his face. Struggling to maintain the grasp on his own mind, he yelled out the only words present in his consciousness: “Stage Two”. 

Suddenly the black lines changed to a fiery red color before quickly spreading across Dosu’s face and body. As they did the boy seemed to grow larger until he stood even over Akatsuch, completely tearing through his clothes and remaining bandages in the process. The cracked metal device on his arm now completely broke into two, the pieces falling to the ground as new misshapen muscles seemed to take form. His hands morphed, his thumbs and pinky fingers seeming retracted into his body as his three remaining fingers grew long and sharp as talons. Two news limbs almost as large as the rest of his body started to protrude out of his back. 

As this monstrous transformation continued, one among the Candidates witnessing the horror had the presence of mind to realize the danger they all were in and struck. With pinpoint accuracy, Kurotsuchi let her kunaii fly, aiming straight for where Dosu’s heart would have been. But it was already too late, for even though she hit her target, the Oto Candidates skin had grown too thick for the blade to penetrate to his vitals organ, merely sticking out of his chest just like a dart on a board. 

Dosu, if he could still be called Dosu that is, didn’t even notice. What was a little prick in comparison to the pain of his bone and muscles being reshaped. At last his fiery red skin turned to a light ashen gray, and the metamorphosis was complete. Standing nearly twice as tall as he did before, his hands transformed into claws, his ears and nose completely covered by a thick layer of gray skin, his eyes shrunken into little more than small black specks, mishappend with disproportionate legs and arms, and large leathery wings coming out of his back, no one would have believed what stood on that field was human if the whole continent hadn’t witnessed the transformation unfold. 

This…thing robbed most of Its senses, writhing in pain, did the only natural thing It could: It screamed.

That fool. How dare such an insect defy his direct orders. The arrogance of one whose life was so fragile. Oh he knew giving Dosu the curse mark was a risk, he wasn’t as avid a gambler as his old teammate, though he enjoyed the occasional roll of the dice just for the potential chaos it could bring. And the prizes! The prizes were just so tantalizing, he already had devised countless ideas for experiments. It has been worth the gamble, He usually had better luck at the dice table than the old slug, but oh well, nothing he could do now. 

Besides, no one outside of his employ had witnessed the effects of stage two before. This might draw some unwanted attention to his little Oto project, but no one, not even Danzo or Pain, would be able to directly link him with this, at least not yet. Even if he was uncovered, it would be worth it in the end if he got what he wanted. While the jackpot of the Games was certainly enticing, it was nothing compared to the prize that was still within his grasps.

Let the children play their game in the Arena. Regardless of the outcome, as always, he would be the real winner in the end.

It screamed, far louder than anything Fu had ever heard before. Even the roars of the previous night paled in comparison to this. Worse than that, Its scream seemed unending. Fu found herself brought to her knees, struggling to cover her ears with her hands in a desperate effort to block out the wail. Her hands felt wet, as they slowly started to be covered with a small trickle of blood. She could feel the vibrations moving through the ground, as the wail seemed to shake the Earth itself. 

Had Fu been able to look up she would’ve noticed Kurotsuchi and Akatatuchi in a similar state. Even now Kurotsuchi was attempting to mold chakra in an effort to create another earth wall or spike, or fire some lava. Anything to kill It, or even to just make It stop screaming. But despite It lacking any direction or focus, Its wail seemed to be a more delicately crafted attack than it appeared on the surface. The vibrations were disrupting all of their chakra networks. A Jounin with finely crafted chakra control would likely be able to respond, but Genin, even prodigies like Kurotsuchi, Akatsuchi and Fu were unable to cast any justu at all in this situation. They’d have to wait for It to stop screaming before they could respond. If they survived that long. 

The good news was that despite having long claws and a hulking mass, It seemed nearly incapable of doing anything else while it was screaming. Otherwise the three of them would have likely been torn to shreds by now. The bad news was that even a minute later It wouldn’t stop screaming. With a seemingly endless supply of oxygen, It continued to wail uninterrupted with no end in sight, The sound waves washed over Fu, Kurotsuchi and Akatsuchi like tidal waves, rocking and attempting to drown them in a flood of noise.

Fu could feel her bones rattling. She could endure just about any physical attack an enemy threw at her. But this? She wasn’t prepared, she didn’t have any defense for this. Even now as she struggled to keep her eyes open, the edges of her vision seemed to darken. She struggled to stay conscious, but part of her wanted to give in to sleep, to do anything that would stop her from having to endure this for a moment longer. 

STAND UP GIRL.

Even Its wail could not drown the voice of the Bug within Fu’s mind. When the Nanabi wanted to be heard, the Bug was heard. 

I SAID STAND UP.

Fu wanted to respond, but she was so overwhelmed that even in her own mental landscape she could not form the words. 

You will fall unconscious and once that thing finally stops screaming it will kill you, if you don’t STAND UP RIGHT NOW. 

I can’t. I just can’t.  

That girl who hates you, she is going to die too. 

Ku…Kusu?

She is going to die if you don’t STAND UP. 

Fu could not ignore the sound, she could not ignore the pain. But she could’ve had the entirety of Takigakure on her back and that would not have stopped her from picking herself up and standing. As she stood, her legs started to shake but within a couple seconds, they steadied and she suddenly found it easier to stand. She didn’t notice it, but wisps of orange chakra began to rise from her body, and three gray vertical lines took shape in each of her eyes, seemingly dividing her orange irises into 4. 

But everyone in the audience watching the broadcast did notice, confirming what every leader on the continent already suspected but had privately wished wasn’t true. 

But for Fu the thoughts of international turmoil, of plots, and plans for war being crafted in far off dark rooms were nonexistent. No, the only thing she knew was that this thing was hurting the people she cared about. For that and that alone she was going to kill It. 

Wings once again unfurled, she covered the distance between herself and It nearly instantaneously. Unable to focus on anything other than the wail, It didn’t even notice her approach. She landed a heavy uppercut, forcing Its mouth closed and at last ending the horrible sound of the wail. It was a sturdy creature, designed to withstand powerful attacks, but not even It could withstand the full force of an angry jinchurki. As the blow lift It off Its feet, sending it flying back several meters before it crashed to the ground with a loud thud. 

The sudden end of the wail wasn’t quite enough to knock Kurotuschi and Aktasuchi out of their daze, but it was there was an immediate degree of relief. Kurotuschi was able to regain her senses a little bit quicker, as she’d been waiting for the precise moment It stopped screaming to strike, but she took no action, too stunned by the sight of an orange Fu hovering over the creature. 

It did not stay down long, its eye locked onto the fluttering insect above It. It was no longer capable of truly intelligent thought, but thoughts of revenge and hurting whatever had hurt It were within the creature’s grasp. It lashed out, standing up in the process, Its long arms extending out. It struck far quicker than something of Its size should, but It did not quite have the speed Dosu had before he transformed into what he was now. It was also incapable of masking Its intentions allowing Fu to easily dodge the strike by hovering higher into the air outside of her enemy’s reach. 

But she wasn’t the only one with wings and she had gained the creature’s undivided attention. It aggressively flapped Its leathery wings struggling to force itself into the air. By Its struggles one might think the creature to be incapable of flight, but It ultimately lumbered into the air, requiring great force with every flap in order to stay in the air. 

There was nothing aerodynamic about this creature, but nonetheless it rose further into the air, gaining more strength, more stability each second it was afloat, as It adjusted to this new environment. However, unlike the creature, which was experiencing flight for the first time in Its existence, Fu had been flying ever since she could manipulate chakra. The sky was her domain and anything that thought they could match her in her territory would be shown just how idiotic they were.

Anyone who had even the slightest insight to Fu’s personality, which was a lot of people considering she was one of the biggest stars of an internationally broadcasted event, would’ve predicted her to charge straight at the creature in that moment, in a furious attempt to knock It out of the sky. Instead she did the opposite, shooting herself straight up into the sky. The creature screamed, not the chakra infused overwhelming wail that had brought everyone to their knees, but a more ‘normal’ animalistic scream, as it too flew higher into the air after her.

Fu never bothered to look back. There was no need. The wind on her face, the sting of the cold air, the sound of the wind rushing through her ears, this is what she knew. This is what she was best at. Thanks to years of spending every moment she could in the sky, her lungs had long adjusted to dealing with the thinner air. Even as she flew higher and higher, she only seemed to be moving faster as she built more speed. The creature couldn’t keep up; it was a novice attempting to keep pace with a world class professional. 

As the two flew, the distance between them grew. She only had one goal now, flying as high as she possibly could, and the single thought creature could only focus on following her. That was becoming a more difficult task with every second. The creature struggled to keep sight of Its prey, but at last lost it as Fu broke through the cloud coverage. That did not discourage the creature, if anything it motivated It further. Pumping Its wings, the creature poured on a sudden burst of speed as It too entered the clouds. 

Attempting to navigate through a cloud for something that has never flown was essentially impossible. The effect wasn’t all too dissimilar from a Genin fresh out of the academy trying to stumble their way through a fairly heavy mist jutsu. The cold moisture seemed to cling to the creature’s skin. There was no way of knowing which direction Fu had gone, no way of knowing if she was still even in the clouds. Its skin crawling,  with no clue where the prey had gone, the creature wasted no time attempting to find a new direction. It continued Its course, flying straight up, anxious to get out of the cloud, anxious to find the one who had hurt It. 

With that single minded determination, the creature broke through the clouds, staring straight up into the directly overhead midday sun. It did the only thing anyone would in Its situation, it closed Its small beady eyes in pain, using what was left of Its human instinct to attempt to cover Its eyes with Its claws,  shutting off the remaining sense that could give the creature even barest understanding of Its surroundings. For a certain mint harried jinchuriki, floating just a few meters behind the creature, her head just poking up slightly above the cloud, it was the exact moment she was waiting for. 

Fu would not waste that precious opportunity. For one final time, she launched herself towards the creature. However this time she did not have her fist raised, no this time she had zero intention of striking her opponent. Instead she landed as gracefully as she was capable of onto the creatures’ back. Between the creature’s thick skin and the literally blinding pain in Its’ eyes, It didn’t notice the presence of the ‘beetle’ on its back shoulders. Which meant It gave Fu zero resistance as she grabbed hold of the base of each of the creature’s wings, and with all the strength she could muster, pulled the two wings together. With its wings, a bird was a majestic creature in flight. But if it could no longer control those wings, then it would be little more than a falling stone. 

And fall the creature did. It dropped through the clouds, Fu hanging on, digging her knees into Its back and refusing to let go of the wings no matter how violently the creature thrashed. It could not strike her, from that angle she was out of Its long claws reach. It attempted to scream Its chakra infused wail, but the overwhelming sound of their freefall weakened Its effects, and with the Nanabi’s chakra flowing through her, Fu would not loosen her grip.

3000 meters, 2500 meters, 2000 meters. For a moment as they fell, Fu took in the site of the arena. The gray of the mountain, the green of tree tops and fields, the blue reflections of the streams and lakes. It was a beautiful site and she appreciated the pretty things. On occasion. They didn’t compare to the feeling of moving through the air. No more seconds could be wasted on pretty scenery, no her orange eyes were focused on only one thing now. The creature’s eyesight hadn’t recovered to the point where It could see the cold hard inevitable truth of the ground they were plummeting towards, but Its instincts were enough to make It panic. 

1800 meters, 1500 meters, 1200 meters. Fu always knew exactly how far off the ground she was. With all those years in the sky, how could she not develop a sense for it? 

1000 meters, 800 meters, 500 meters, only a few seconds left now. 

The arena didn’t have any cameras that could see above the clouds, so the audience had lost sight of Fu and the creature towards the end of their chase in the air. But as they fell now, at high speed, with the orange chakra of her Bijuu surrounding them, the viewers still could not make out the features of Fu or the creature. What they could see resembled more so the sight of a flaming meteorite about to impact the Earth.

200 meters, 100 meters, 50 meters.

Fu was ready. Her own wings unfurled, she let go of the creature and using all of her strength from her legs to push herself off Its back., Both her own chakara and the Bug’s following through her wings, she put out a large burst  of chakra, enough to create a powerful gust of air to slow her descent. Her wings outstretched catching the wind, she expertly managed to turn her dive into a glide, allowing her to maneuver towards a mostly controlled landing, with only one or two tumbles on the now muddy surface of the very field where their battle had begun. 

The creature was not as skilled, It did not even notice It had regained control over Its own wings. Even if It had, this was the first time It had ever flown. It did not have the training nor the natural born instincts to stop itself at that speed. So It crashed, front first into the hard earth, creating a small crater, shaking the nearby ground in the process. Two certain Iwa Candidates may have been in danger if they had stayed in the spots they were in when Fu and the creature had first taken to the sky, but they had the common sense and speed necessary to move out of the way of a giant falling object. 

What was formerly known as Dosu twitched on the ground for a second or two before becoming completely still. A bright light flashed over It and the sound of the gong rang throughout the arena, though at this point Fu’s ears were still ringing too loudly to hear it. 

As she picked herself up off the ground for hopefully the final time that day, the Bug’s chakra subsided. She was banged up, bruised and burned, but with her constion she’d recovered from worse.But she didn’t care about the ringing in her ears or the soreness that seemed to echo through every single muscle and bone, nor of Metoro, whose fate that she didn't know had been decisively decided by her compatriots while she was in the sky. No, all she cared about were the two people rushing towards her. One of whom seemed to be screaming pretty loudly at her. 

She couldn’t make out the words, not yet, but once they were in range Fu smiled, wrapping both Kurostuchi and Akatsuchi in a strong embrace. She had protected her friends, they were safe, that was the only thing that mattered. Kurotushci eventually managed to wriggle her way out of Fu grip (the battle must have taken a bigger toll on Fu than she thought), ready to launch herself into a series of obscenities, before she was distracted by the sight of an eagle swooping in from the sky. All of them watched as it dropped a cloth package right at their feet with Taki’s insignia printed on its side. A reward maybe for fighting a well she had? Maybe Lord Shibuki had sent her the red bean mochis she loved. Ooh maybe they could all share them. 

As Fu returned to her normal distracted state of mind with the adrenaline of the battle wearing off, Kurotsuchi bent down and started to open the package, tearring off the cloth rather than carefully untying the string holding it together. To Fu’s confusion and disappointment, rather than sugary sweets, the contents held a new outfit, nearly identical to her current one. 

That’s weird, what would Lord Shibuki be sending her new clothes for?  She was even more surprised when Kursotsuchi practically thrust the package into her hands, barely making out the word “change”. Well that’s something, her hearing was coming back at the very least. Still Fu merely gave Kurotsuchi a look of confusion before the Iwa kunoichi sighed and pointed down. 

Her eyes following Kurotuschi’s finger, Fu finally got a look at the state of her clothes. They were muddy, burnt and in absolute tatters. It would be practically impossible to recognize them from the outfit she was wearing at the beginning of the Games. Any more strain and they probably fall apart on her completely.. Yeah, changing was probably a good idea. 

And a bath

Yeah that was probably a good idea too. How far were they from that stream she saw? 

Chapter Text

Konoha

Officially there were 239 rooms in the Hokage’s Tower. Unofficially there were 317. Very unofficially there were 318. Despite being the most unofficial location in all of Konoha, Room 318 was by far the largest room in the entire tower. Well the largest room several levels under the tower would be more accurate. It was built by Hashirama Senju himself shortly after the village was founded, and even several decades later, the wards the Shodaime had created were still in place. It was the peak of Konoha security. It was also absolutely filthy, in all of the years in both of Hirzuen’s tenures as Hokage, the room had only ever been used twice, the last time over a decade ago. No one had been allowed in since, so fairly heavy layers of dust coated every single surface. 

But they would endure the filth and the occasional allergy induced sneeze. Security came before comfort and this room was designed specifically to be the only one in the tower capable of holding a meeting of this size. Every advisor, the branch heads of the Medical Corp, Cipher Corps, Torture and Interrogation, Supply and every other major department were here. As were the commanders and vice commanders of the ANBU, Jounin Corp, Chunin Corp, Genin Corp, and every notable clan leader. Even the somehow least wayward of Hiruzen’s students was here sitting just a few seats away from him with a rather grim look on his face. He often wished Jiraiya would spend more time in the village, but the only thing that seemed to draw his de facto spymaster back home was the likelihood of impending disaster. 

A powerful enough and smart enough foreign state or rogue ninja could decapitate the entirety of Konoha’s leadership if they successfully attacked Room 318. This was the main reason why gatherings of this nature were so rare, but the situation required it. It had to be held now, yesterday’s events in the Arena meant that it could be delayed no longer. It was confirmed beyond all doubt, two jinchuriki were in the Arena, so one way or another the balance of power would shift. 

Reports had been flooding in from across the continent. Suna had already begun full scale mobilization the night the scores were announced. Hirzuen himself had discreetly set in motion the first steps of a partial mobilization, but a full mobilization would begin as soon as this meeting was over. Whether Konoha survived the coming crisis would likely be decided in the coming hours in this room. Contingencies would be drafted, units would be constructed and organized, stockpiles would be evaluated, rationing guidelines would be written, and the first border deployments would be ordered. It would be impossible to hold a meeting of this size again, everyone involved would be too busy doing the strenuous work of putting what decisions were made into action. 

Hiruzen looked out among his subordinates, all of whom were as weary as him. Shikaku Nara was deep in thought, Ibiki Morino was conversing quietly with Inoichi Yamanaka, and poor Hiashi was particularly pensive. The last time this room was used was an especially terrible experience for the Hyuga Clan head. That time the crisis was averted, albeit at a terrible personal sacrifice to the man, perhaps another miracle could save them all from the horrors to come this time. But despite that history, Hiashi was not the man who’s Hiruzen gaze ultimately landed on, no that honor was reserved for one of his oldest comrades.  

Even after all these decades, he still could not read Danzo. His old ‘friend’ (that wasn’t quite the right word for their relationship, but it was the closest one to the truth that Hiruzen knew) remained as stoic as ever. Hiruzen had met some of the most incredible and powerful ninja in history over his long life, but no one, for better or worse, truly embodied the word ‘shinobi’ to the extent that Danzo did. He couldn’t help but think of the words Danzo had uttered at the first meeting that Hirzuen presided over in this room, mere days after Sakumo Hatake had returned from his tragic failure so many years ago. 

“If we are to survive we must act as if conflict is an absolute certainty.”

Hiruzen was younger then, despite being a veteran, he was still naive about the possibility of peace. That time there were no miracles, and as much as he hated to admit it, perhaps some of the suffering that came afterward could have been avoided if he had thought a little bit more like Danzo. The Great Nations were mobilizing, already there were reports of Iwa troops massing on the Taki border (alliances in the Games rarely carried over into the real world), and rumors that the Funato Clan was in open rebellion in Kiri, though it was always hard to piece together what information from that country was accurate. Conflict certainly seemed like an absolute certainty now, Hiruzen could ill afford to act like it wasn’t.

He stood, the whispered conversations in the room coming to an imminent halt, as every person's attention was firmly fixed on their Hokage, as he addressed his grand war council. 

“Let us begin.”

The Fortress

“I’m telling you these kids are gonna go far, they are something special,” Kakashi said with a convincing fake smile. 

“You should believe him, after all he is a genius,” Konan smiled warmly from his side, almost as convincingly, Kakshi’s arm wrapped around her waist. Both were wearing their village’s standard jounin uniforms. His pretend attempt at romancing her at the ball had helped sway Lord Kuzan’s pocket book, and the pair needed every edge they could get to wrack up some sponsor money. A deceitful minor public display of affection might not be something either of them were particularly comfortable with, but they’d do whatever would get their Candidates the funds they needed. Besides both of them were shinobi, most of their job were things they weren't necessarily  comfortable with. 

Sadly this fish they were trying to reel in wasn’t biting. 

“They do seem impressive, but I’m sorry to say I’ve already chosen to invest in the Suna boy,” Lady Chiriko politely, yet firmly stated with the experience of a woman who was used to turning down people asking for money. 

Kakashi did the same thing he had done with the previous 9 rejections he and Konan had faced in the last hour; masked any feelings of frustration, smiled, and politely thanked the noblewoman for her time. As he watched Lary Chiriko walk away, he internally groaned. 

Releasing Konan, Kakashi turned to a passing waiter grabbing two drinks off of a tray. They were just for the sake of appearances, but Kakashi was sorely tempted to down both glasses right then and there. Drinking as a coping mechanism had never really been his style, still, that particular temptation had been strongly growing ever since this god forsaken mission had started. But alcohol tended to create more problems than it solved and besides, even with years of experience or sneaking food and drinks when no one was watching, he had no intention of lowering his mask for even the smallest of milliseconds while his ‘partner’ was in the vicinity. 

He handed said Ame kunoichi one of the glasses, doing his best to look like a gentleman retrieving a refreshment for his date, who in turn smiled warmly. It was a convincing smile, one that would certainly fool any passing richman who happened to look their way. She was good at this. Kakashi respected talent in whatever form it might take, and Konan was certainly a woman of talent. More talented than him? Maybe, maybe not, either way he wasn’t eager to find out. But one way or another he would, for Konoha. 

Arm in arm, the pair slowly walked towards one of the few tucked away corners of the Grand Hall. It wasn’t quite as packed as it was on the night of the ball, Day 3 of the Games was shaping up to be a fairly quiet afternoon. If it hadn’t been, Kakashi wouldn’t have felt comfortable enough leaving the mentors room to scrounge up some much needed sponsor money. That quiet afternoon sadly meant there were also less big fish in the hall to gouge, as many were resting from the previous days’ excitement. Nevertheless there were still enough rich men, lords, and even Genin attendants watching from the large screen set up at the front of the hall, that a little separation would be needed to avoid being overheard. 

“This isn’t working,” he gently muttered when they finally found a secluded little alcove on the edge of the hall. “We’re not getting anywhere.”

“I don’t think the problem’s our strategy,” Konan responded while placing her drink down on a small table to her side. “Be honest Hatake, if you were a rich man would you be betting on our Candidate right now?” She was direct, and brutal in her analysis without any room for unproductive niceties. Kakashi appreciated that kind of efficiency in a comrade. In a temporary ally of convenience…well it made the current task at hand easier at least.  

“No, I wouldn’t,” he replied truthfully with maybe a tinge of regret. It was true, with two jinchurki in the Games, it’d be foolish to bet or invest on anyone other than Gaara or Fu. They both had already won battles that would’ve been among the most celebrated finales in the Games’ history if they had concluded the competition. In terms of both power and popularity, they were on a completely different level from every other candidate. 

He mentally sighed. Maybe they’d get lucky and Tsunade, wherever she was in the world, would place heavy bets on Gaara and Fu. Nah, the Legendary Sucker may have been a degenerate gambler, but to her credit,  the Games were probably the one thing she would never bet on. He sighed again, this time externally, before continuing. “Well then we just have to keep making the rounds, someone here has to like a longshot.”

Konan leaned back against the nearby wall, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “I don’t think we’re going to have any better luck with this crowd than we’ve had in the last hour.” There it was again, that brutal directness of hers. She was right of course, but that didn’t change the necessity of the situation. 

“We have to keep trying, we need the sponsor money.” That was an understatement, it was clear at this point beyond a reasonable doubt that there was no source of food in the arena beyond the Cornucopia. With Sai’s tanto taking up a significant portion of their already small cash pool, even with rationing, they only had enough sponsor money to feed their four Candidates for another three days at most. That wasn’t factoring in the possibility of the gamemakers increasing the already exorbitant prices, or unexpected expenses like medical supplies or another weapon. 

Those last two things would almost certainly be needed. The Candidates were spread too far out today for any to be a serious threat to each other, but the panthers had returned for the second night. The Candidates were a bit more prepared for round 2, and as a result there were no casualties during the night, but still virtually everyone in the arena was exhausted and it was only Day 3. These games were turning into a brutal war of attrition, the lack of rest and food would only make these attacks more dangerous if they were truly a nightly occurrence. 

Of course the only two teams safe from these attacks were the ones with the two jinchurikis, who just so happened to be the only teams with enough sponsor money to stay well fed even if the Games lasted months. Another reason for sponsors not to invest in any other Candidates. If rumors were to be believed most gambling halls in the city had resorted to giving virtually every other Genin greater than 500/1 odds just to drive people to bet on anyone else.

Kakashi wasn’t quite distracted enough by his own thoughts to miss Konan’s next suggestion, “This act of ours might be able to persuade one or two rich hopeless romantics, but if we’re going to make any real headway something needs to change in the arena.”

“Our Genin need to do something big,” he said, building off of her thought. “Something eye-catching, something that changes the narrative.”

Konan picked her glass off the table, twirling it slightly as she faked taking a sip, with a smile. Even away from most of the crowd, appearances still mattered. “The thing about heavy favorites is that after a while they become boring. If we can give investors a viable alternative, they'll take a chance.”

Kakashi rose his own glass toward his face, making a visible effort to study the contents of the glass. It was an orangish red liquid, not too dissimilar from the color of fire. Fire that could be painted into existence by one of his Genin. 

Yakumo could be that viable alternative. Not in the sense that she could win the Games, but she could make a grand spectacle, create something that would make the audience believe she could win. As mentors, they could pass limited instruction to their Candidates through sponsor gifts, the gamemakers wouldn't allow any messages that could be used as intel, but they should be allowed enough to convince the group to take a certain action. Create that spectacle, something so grand it could replenish their coffers. Money that Sai would need if he had any chance of winning once Yakumo died. 

The back of Kakashi’s throat felt slimy at that moment. He’d known from day 1 that he could only save one of them, but despite knowing that Sai would most likely be the final one standing, Kakashi hadn’t consciously planned around Yakumo’s demise till that thought. A ninja who abandoned a comrade was worse than trash, but a mentor in the Games would inevitably have to make that choice. 

That fiery red drink he was staring at looked more enticing than ever before. He couldn’t. He shouldn’t. Taking a sip wouldn’t change anything about the situation he was in, the rules he had decided to live by that this mission demanded he compromise. Still, it would be so easy just to down that whole glass and grab another. And another. And another. No once he started, stopping would be very difficult and going on several days without sleep, and only eating a roll and an apple in the past two days, he couldn’t afford anything that would deteriorate his faculties. He forced himself to place the glass down on the nearby table. 

He wished he had Icha Icha with him, but once again he had purposely left it in Konoha’s suite. Reading ‘romance novels’ in front of a high society crowd would only make his already difficult task of parting reluctant rich people from their money impossible. 

He shouldn’t drink, he couldn’t read, but he needed to do something, anything to just think about something other than the fact that he’d mentally picked which one of his comrades would live and which one would die. 

“Do you want to dance?” he asked Konan for the second time. However, unlike when he asked her at the Opening Ball, there was no pretense of an alliance, no political maneuvering, just a genuine question.

Perhaps that’s why she was surprised by the offer, the first time Kakashi had genuinely caught the Ame mentor off guard since they first met about a week ago. 

For lack of a more logical response, a little dumbfounded she replied “but there’s no music.” 

“Doesn’t matter, it doesn't have to be anything too complicated. Besides, it'll make for a good show. Couple of enamored jounin from different villages, dancing even when there is no music. I’m sure that’ll grab attention from someone here.”

“No one’s watching.”

“Someone is always watching,” he said, reaching out his hand against his better judgment. “What do you say?”

Maybe it was the ‘logic’ of his argument or just the result of one of the rare occasions where she had been taken off guard, or maybe she just needed a moment not to think about the world and her role in what was sure to come. The reason didn’t matter, as Konan gently grabbed his hand, putting her glass back down in the process. 

It wasn’t a complicated dance. No dips and turns like they had done at the ball. Instead the pair of battle hardened veterans with more blood on their hands than either would care to admit, just swayed gently back and forth, ignoring the harsh reality of their own decisions for a brief moment, catching a few eyes from members in the hall in the process, just as Kakashi had predicted. 

It was only for a moment, the truth was a little dance wasn’t enough of a distraction from Kakashi’s own thoughts compared to his normal vices. He thought too fast, too deeply for such a simple distraction to really work. Still that moment was a reprieve, maybe the first real one he had since he walked into the Hokage’s office all those weeks ago. 

“Why are you here,” he asked more directly than he normally would have as the pair continued to sway, looking above her rather than at her. 

“For my village,” Konan replied. “Same as you I imagine.”

“I don’t think that’s why I’m here, and I don’t think that’s why you're here either,” he said looking now down towards her directly in the eye.

She paused for a moment, just continuing to sway, her instincts as a shinobi telling her to stop talking, yet she continued all the same, “Well then why are you here?”

“To protect my comrades,” he said true to himself. 

“You can only save one.”

He averted his eyes, once again looking up above her. Pausing for a few seconds as they continued their dance, more onlookers gradually catching sight of them from a distance. “I know,” he said as emotionlessly as he could. “I know”.

More silence, more swaying. That could’ve easily been the end of the conversation, yet it wasn’t. 

“I guess I’m here because I want to make a world where our children don’t have to fight our battles for us,” Konan said, this time looking at her own feet rather than at her dancing partner. 

“You’re in the wrong place for that.”

“I know” she said, devoid of emotion as any good ninja should be. “I know.” 

That was the end of the conversation, the end of the first and probably the last honest moment either had shared with another person since arriving in the Land of Iron. 

Their ‘dance’ lasted about another minute before coming to an end. It might have gone on longer, but both were distracted by a commotion coming from the entrance of the great hall. There weren’t shouts of fear or anger, but rather something was distracting the people by entrance, something pleasant by cries that reminded Kakashi of the sound the feudal lord’s wife made everytime she picked up her cat. 

Appropriate reactions considering Kakashi soon saw a small furry creature running straight towards him. It didn’t even take a moment to recognize it as a pug, and even less time to recognize his most trusted ninja hound Pakkun. 

Pakkun who was supposed to be watching Naruto, Sakura and Sasuke. Pakkun who was ordered not to leave their sides. Pakkun who’s eyes displayed a genuine sense of fear for the first time in years. 

As tired as he was, It took that mind of Kakashi, the one that always had far too many thoughts for its own good, no time at all to arrive at the worst possible conclusion. Well more like 10 worst possible conclusions, all of which inspired him to move far faster than he should’ve been reasonably capable of in the state he was in.

He sprinted forward, completely disregarding his dance partner. If Konan was knocked off balance by the sudden movement, then her grace as a kunoichi was enough to prevent it from being noticeable to any potential onlookers. Either way, for once Kakashi wasn’t paying any attention to the subtle actions of the blue haired Ame mentor, as he made a beeline straight for his dog. 

Kakashi didn’t even bother to stop and ask Pakkun what the situation was, grabbing the pug, continuing straight for the main exit to Hall. Pakkun normally would’ve been indigent about being picked up like a civilian puppy, but the normally gruff tracker wasted no time berating his master, merely spouting off directions as Kakashi lept over and sped past nobles and samurai alike, making his way out of the hall and into the courtyard almost instantaneously. 

“Head towards the entrance towards third tower, one your in head towards the left hallway, then make a a right after 500 paces, another right, and then a left and you’ll be at the entrance to an abandoned elevator shaft,” Pakkun said gruffly, a hint of panic just barely noticeable in his voice. 

“What are we dealing with,” Kakashi asked, as he quickly made his way into the third tower, knocking over a shipping tycoon smoking a pipe in the courtyard in the process.  

“The Oto mentor. There’s something about him, Kakashi. He’s bad news Kakashi. Very bad news.”

A jounin was after his kids, that was a problem, they weren’t ready for something like that. But why and more importantly how? Both Oto candidates were dead, and it was the policy of the Games to confine mentors of eliminated villages to their suites, to avoid any confrontations between A-Ranked or higher level shinobi motivated by anger and vengeance. The Oto mentor (what was his name, why couldn’t he remember his name?) should have been under surveillance in his room for the remaining duration of the competition. Leaving unnoticed by the samurai charged with that task wouldn’t be easy, not even for a former Anbu operative like Kakashi. 

On the topic of samurai, Kakashi noticed a distinct lack of guards as he ran through the halls of the third tower. Security had laxed to a degree since the Games had begun making it impossible to sabotage the other Candidates. But it wasn’t supposed to be this lax. 

His throat tightened, his heart beat just perhaps a little bit faster. This attack, assuming it was an attack, wasn’t spur of the moment opportunism to take out a few Genin from a Great Nation. No this was planned, very thoroughly planned. 

Sasuke or Naruto? Were they after Sasuke or Naruto? A little bit of that nausea from earlier returned when he realized he hadn’t thought of Sakura’s well being. God, he really was the worst sensei and mentor ever. Why did the Hokage pick him for this? Why didn’t he insist on leaving Team 7 at home? He could’ve just grabbed two random Genin to be attendants. Maybe Gai’s kids. Gai’s team never seemed to get into trouble. They would’ve just stayed in Konoha’s suite when he ordered them to, no pranks on samurai, no idiotic attempts to track down long lost, soon to be dead clan members, no fights with sleazy mentors who’s name he really should remember. 

No forcing him to eat an apple and roll because they wanted him to take care of himself, no endless bickering which absolutely did not remind Kakashi of himself, Obito and Rin, no smiles that were far too like Minato-sensei’s for his own comfort. 

Well, shit. He really was stuck with these 3 idiots for the long haul wasn’t he? 

Dipping into a pool even he didn’t know he had, Kakashi ran faster. He navigated through the halls, effortlessly, every other thought now drowned out by the one demanding that he reach his destination before it was too late. He reached the elevator shaft, which was sealed shut. He didn’t waste any time trying to pry it open, merely launching himself forward and kicking through the doors, in a dynamic entry that would’ve made his eternal rival proud. 

“Head straight down, don’t stop till you hit the very bottom,” Pakkun, now nestled under Kakashi’s armpit, practically shouted. 

That instruction was unnecessary. Even several floors up Kakashi could hear the sounds of a struggle now. At his speed, It was faster to run than to fall, as he raced down the stone elevator shaft, instinctually using his free hand to push up his headband, revealing his Sharingan eye. He didn’t quite know what he was running into, but he did know that he would need Obito’s help if he was going to get everyone of his comrades out alive. 

He reached the bottom, dropping Pakkun in the process, just in time to hear the sound of what could only be Sakura screaming. It wasn’t the sound of affection towards Sasuke or annoyance towards Naruto. No, it was the type of scream he had never heard from the young girl before, one that he had never wanted to hear from another teammate again. 

He headed straight for the sound of that scream, his well honed instincts developed from years of experience the only thing that allowed him to take in his surroundings despite his one track mind. It was dark, not surprising for what was surely the lowest level of the entire fortress. It was a large space, with a rock floor and several stone pillars holding up the ceiling. By various puddles on the ground, and the lack of any furniture or other infrastructure, it was clearly abandoned. A few glowing green rocks in the wall, likely easier to maintain than torches back when the space was in use, were the only source of illumination. 

Illumination which proved key when he finally caught sight of his team, just as the Oto Mentor sunk his teeth into Sasuke’s neck. 

Konoha

It had been a long meeting, but what needed to be done was done, the building blocks were in place. It would take days for Hiruzen’s orders to go fully into effect, but the plans for virtually every scenario had been completed. The clans had their assignments, rationing would go into effect in the morning, and the borders would be closed as soon approval came from the Daimyo. All outstanding missions would be suspended, any ninja outside the Land of Fire (barring those deemed suitable for espionage or sabotage) were to be recalled. That included his last student Tsundade, who would surely be needed in the days to come. Tsume Inuzuka had been tasked with bringing back the last Senju, not an enviable task but one ultimately suited to the village’s bester tracker. 

War plans for every great nation, every minor village, and every possible combination ranging from an unlikely Suna-Iwa alliance, to a conflict with a coalition of all surrounding nations, had been dusted off the shelves, reviewed, and in some cases updated. Shikaku Nara had been named commander of all defenses in the East, Jiraiya the forces in the West. Hiruzen himself would command the reserves, ready to deploy to whichever front where war broke out. Danzo would oversee all special forces operations. 

Hiruzen hoped he wouldn’t regret that last assignment. It was a lot of power to give to a man who had abused it so often. But wartime called for extreme measures, and Danzo held no qualms in doing what needed to be done. Hiruzen wouldn’t trust the man with his life, but he did trust him to do what was in Konoha’s best interests, no matter how untasteful those measures might be. War was ugly, what would be needed to win that war would be far uglier. 

Hiruzen began to signal for the end of the meeting, work needed to be done after all, the hard part was just getting started. But the old war hawk, who had just been so present in the Hokage’s mind, stopped him by speaking towards the entire room. 

“There’s still the matter of the Games and our Candidates that needs to be discussed,” Danzo firmly stated for the whole room to hear. He didn’t have the charisma necessary to be Hokage, but he still spoke with a level of authority that demanded attention if not outright subservience.  

It was an authority that few would challenge, even in a room filled with as much power and ego as this one. 

Hiruzen sighed, the task of a response naturally falling to him, “There’s not much to discuss. Sponsorships are too thoroughly monitored to even indirectly funnel funds to our candidates. At this point any chance of victory lies solely in the Candidates’ and Kakashi’s capable hands.” He hoped that would be the end of it. Like many of the things he hoped for these days, it was not to be. 

“I’m not recommending aiding our Candidates, Sarutobi,” anyone else, even Jiraiya who had little regard for formalities or Hirzen’s often rebellious son Asuma would have called him Lord Hokage in a meeting like this. “In fact I’m recommending that we get word to Hatake to cut them off from sponsorship gifts altogether.”

With that the room erupted, into shouts and anger. Leave it a large bellowing father like Choza Akamichi to have his voice cut through the noise of the crowd.

“You mean to abandon our village’s children!” the Akimichi clan head shouted. Choza nearly stood up in the process to advance towards Danzo, but a firm hand on his shoulder from his teammate, Shikaku, kept him seated. 

Unlike virtually every other person in the room, Hiruzen noticed no righteous anger in Shikaku’s eyes at Danzo’s words. Rather he saw a frustrated sense of acceptance. The village’s chief strategist would never speak up in support of Danzo, but he wasn’t adding his voice to those in opposition. Hirzuen grabbed the bridge of his nose as Danzo replied to the whole room. Shikaku and Danzo rarely agreed on anything, but when they did, it always proved to be the right decision. 

That authoritative voice of Danzo rose above all the objections. “The Victor of these Games will bring two jinchuriki and some of the most valuable bloodlines in the world to their village. In the process they will unite at least half the continent against them. Unless you all wish to face a war on every front, then our Candidates must be sacrificed.”

It was a statement that ran against everything Hiruzen stood for. The village’s children were the King that must be protected and fought for. The Games themselves existed in defiance of that principle, but he had always attempted to live by it by giving Konoha’s Candidates the best possible chance for success.  Yet he could not object to Danzo’s words ,which were brutally cutthroat, spoken by a man Hiruzen couldn’t help but both despise and admire. Painfully though, Danzo was right, and as the Hokage who had to stand for the greater welfare of the village above all else, he could not speak up against him. 

The angered shout of Room 318 fell into silence. Danzo’s logic was twisted but none could argue with it. They were shinobi, they knew what had to be done when they heard it. All of them would still sleep that night, any ninja who couldn’t just because they would not speak up was in the wrong profession. A solemn wave of acceptance washed over the crowd. For their nation to live, Sai and Yakumo would have to die. 

The sound of laughter, not born out of amusement but rather knowledge, echoed through the otherwise silent room. All eyes moved to the source of the laughter which turned out to be a determined Asuma, who despite his skill and status as former bodyguard to the Daimyo would probably not have been invited to this meeting if he was not Hiruzen’s son. 

Asuma ignored the looks of the most powerful people in Konoha, even the looks of his own father, to stare straight at Danzo. The two locked eyes, glaring at one another before the Hokage’s son laughed again, before pulling a cigarette out of his pocket.

Diverting his eyes at last as he lit the cigarette, he spoke with everyone’s full attention on him. “You can order Kakashi to cut off all aid to the Candidates all you want, but it won’t change anything.” He took a puff of the now lit cigarette before continuing. “That man would sooner die a thousand times than follow an order like that.”

Hiruzen strongly considered in that moment throwing away all sense of decorum both as a Hokage and a father to bum a cigarette off his son. 

The Fortress

The sound of a thousand chirping birds echoed throughout the fortress’ bottom floor. Kakashi hadn’t even consciously activated his signature jutsu, pure instinct driving him forward towards the man who had dared to hurt his students. In a credit to his skill the Oto Mentor released his grip on Sasuke, jumping back in the process. He was fast, not as fast as Minato-sensei, but still one of the fastest that Kakashi had ever seen. 

However he still wasn’t fast enough to escape Kakashi entirely, as the chidori grazed the left side of the Oto mentor’s face. Kakashi could feel his lightning-covered hand sear through flesh before his opponent could fully pull back. He had meant to punch a hole through the Oto Mentor’s head with that move, but there was certainly some satisfaction in leaving what would surely be a very painful burning mark. Not that he had any intention of letting this man live long enough for the wound to truly become a scar. 

Said opponent was now clutching the left side of his face, standing dozens of meters away from Kakashi in front of a stone pillar. Kakashi successfully positioned himself between the Oto Mentor and the now unconscious Sasuke, his chidori still crackling furiously in his hand. With his Sharingan focused on his enemy, he took in the state of his Genin out of the corner of his one true eye.  

Sasuke was behind him, but Kakashi’s well tuned senses could tell that the Uchiha prodigy was still breathing. He didn’t know what that bite did, poison was the likeliest option, but despite being unconscious, the boy didn’t seem like he was in immediate danger. Whatever it was, they would have time to treat it. Samurai weren’t exactly renowned medics but surely they would have at least one poison expert on staff. 

Nartuo was lying in a crumpled heap by the wall towards Kakashi’s right. Judging by what could only be described as a crater in the wall, he had likely been flung into it with extreme force. Their opponent had to have very impressive strength to make an indent like that. For anyone else that might have been fatal, but with the Kyuubi’s chakra Naruto would heal. Regardless, the blond jinchuriki wasn’t getting up anytime soon. 

Sakura was the only member of the team still conscious, though conscious might not have necessarily been the right word. She was sitting on her knees only a few meters away from Naruto, badly bruised with blood running down her forehead, just staring straight forward. She gave no sign of recognizing Kakashi's presence in the chamber. She was clearly in shock, practically catatonic. Any hope of her being able to drag her two teammates to safety while Kakashi fought the Oto mentor were dashed. Pakkun would be here shortly, maybe if Kakashi could push the enemy deeper into the chamber away from the Genin, the dog could coax her out of that state. It wasn’t a great plan, but at least everyone was still alive. It wouldn’t be easy, but he would get them through this.

“Ku ku ku.”

Kakashi almost froze on the spot. No. That laugh, he knew that laugh. It couldn’t be him, how was he of all people here? It had been 10 years since Kakakashi had heard that laugh, but he would never forget it.

“Oh little Kakashi, it’s been far too long,” his opponent chuckled slowly, ripping away the false face he had been wearing, revealing an unburned snake like visage, his yellow eyes  staring directly into Kakashi’s own with an almost demonic glee. 

“Orochimaru,” Kakashi willed himself to speak to the one man in the world he was willing to publicly admit he was afraid of. Still he wouldn’t let Sanini know that, making every effort to hide his true emotions. “Why are you here?”

“Kakashi, Kakashi, is that any way to talk to an old friend, I thought I taught you better manners than that” Orochimaru said, taking a step forward. Even with Kakashi’s fully active chidori, the sannin showed no signs of caution as he welcomingly stretched his arms out. “Don’t you remember the last time you and I were in this fortress?”

You might be able to win, boy. You certainly have the skill, the courage, the will. But to be a Victor you need more than will to do what needs to be done. What you need is the Desire to cut down anyone who stands in your way. Whether they are ‘friend’ or foe.

Kakashi shook his head, now wasn’t the time for flashbacks. “Vividly.”

“Well then,” Orochimaru took another step forward, “ I would think you would show a little more gratitude to the man who helped a little 6 year old boy that no one else thought stood a chance, survive the deadliest competition the world has ever known.”

“Why. Are. You. Here.” Kakashi poured more chakra into his chidori. It wasn’t the smartest move for a longerm battle, but he wasn’t going to win a dragged out fight. Not against him. He’d need to end this quickly, get a lucky shot in, a lucky shot with as much power behind it as he could generate.

“Did you really expect me to sit out an opportunity like this? So many incredible and rare jutsu all in one place, all of it up for grabs. How could I resist.” He took another step forward. “Though at this point what I’m really after is the very same power you were gifted all those years ago.” With that the Snake Sannin pointed towards his left eye. 

Sasuke then. His target was Sasuke. “You can’t have him,” Kakashi replied as forcefully as he possibly could. One more step, let the bastard take one more step. 

“Oh my dear Kakashi,” Orochimaru paused, stopping his advance. He laughed, opening his mouth a large gaping smile in the process. Slowly from the back of his throat, a small snake emerged. Like its master the snake too opened its jaw revealing perhaps the most finely crafted swords Kakashi had ever seen. Orochimaru grabbed the sword with his right hand as the snake receded back into its master. “Do you really think you can stop me?”

Almost on cue, both combatants chose that moment to lunge forward ready to strike each other down. Both the light of the Chidori and shine of the Kusanagi seemed to gleam in the poorly lit chamber, as the two elite ninja bore down on each other. 

With his Sharigan, Kakashi could perfectly see the arch of his opponent's swing, the blade coming down directly in the path of his chidori, a clash nearly guaranteed by the forward momentum his signature jutsu demanded. A direct collision between a legendary blade and his lightning blade about to meet in a head on collision. 

Not quite, as at the moment Kakashi deactivated his chidori, his sharingan allowing him to time it perfectly, pulling back just as Kusangi’s downward swing would have made contact with his lightning-covered hand. Well it did still make contact with the very tip of the sword grazing his outstretched palm. With a sword as sharp as the Kusanagi, even that small graze was enough to leave a very deep cut.  If Kakaskashi had tried to meet the blade head on, his arm surely would’ve been sliced into two. 

But that relatively small, still deep cut was exactly what Kakashi was counting on. Deactivating the chidori, took Orochimaru off guard, but more importantly the Sanin had committed to his swing and was now carried downwards by his own momentum. It would only take him a moment to recover but that was all Kakashi needed. 

Completing this particular jutsu without hand signs was a near impossible task, demanding absolute perfect chakra control and refinement. Even at his best Kakashi would only give himself a 10% chance of pulling it off. He was not at his best, even for a Victor, Jounin and former Anbu Black Ops operative, an entire week without sleep took its toll. This wasn’t the move of a widely revered genius, but rather something only an unpredictable knucklehead with less sense than courage would even try to pull off. 

Maybe his students were rubbing off on him more than he thought.

He dove toward his right, slapping his blood covered palm on Orochimaru’s outstretched sword arm, practically praying for this move to work. 

“Summoning Jutsu.”

The booming puff of smoke and the sound of enraged dogs was perhaps the most beautiful sound Kakashi had ever heard. Enraged was too underwhelming a word for the growls that came from his pack. They weren’t the most intimidating group of pups out there, certainly not compared to the large beasts raised by the Inuzuka clan. But any bystander witnessing this moment would have no doubt in their mind that these were the ninja hounds, the descendants of wolves, and they were going to tear the snake they had been summoned on top of into pieces. 

Roaring, twelve hounds were summoned right from the point of contact between Kakashi and Orochimaru, the force of the jutsu pushing Kakashi back, while simultaneously giving the Snake Sannin no time to respond, as the pack descended upon him. Fangs immediately pierced Orochimaru’s sword arm, forcing him to drop the Kusanagi, Bull put his full weight onto Orochimaru’s chest, knocking him to the ground. With their maws and their claws they bore into the villain, pinning him to the ground, the sound of tearing flesh echoing throughout the hall. 

Kakashi’s arm fell to his side. Between two full power chidoris (more than full power to be honest) and more significantly, a mass summoning done without hand signs, he had put his arm through far too much strain in such a short time, overloading it with more chakra than he normally would even in an hour long battle. Even now his chakra pathways running down the arm were screaming in agony. He wouldn’t get too much use out of that arm, at least not for a few minutes. In a battle that could be an eternity

Orochimaru was lying on the dungeon's cold stone floor, with 12 ninja hounds continuing to hold him down, a pool of blood forming on the ground beside him. At least 2-3 dogs were biting into each of his limbs, their maws covered in red. They might love a game of fetch, they might not fully grasp the concept of their own tails, they might get a little too excited when Kakashi would return to his apartment after a day of training the brats, but when their master and those he cared about were in danger, they were as vicious killers as even the most bloodthirsty of shinobi. 

However even the fangs and claws of these killers wasn’t enough to put down the worst criminal in Konoha’s history, as movement signified Orochimaru’s attempt to pull himself off the ground. Movement that ended with a swipe of Kakashi’s good arm, as 4 kunai that he had managed to smuggle out of Konhona’s suite, buried themselves into the few openings of Orochimaru’s body that weren't covered by dogs. Another quick swipe of his and four more were buried into the Sanin for good measure. A final one burrowed into his former Games Mentor’s skull to finish the job. Kakashi might normally regard that many knives as overkill, but this time he was willing to make an exception. 

He held his breath waiting for the inevitable substitution, or the signature ‘pop’ that would come whenever a clone was dispelled. But there was nothing. Had he done it? Had he actually won, was the battle actually over? Against all odds, he’d gotten his lucky shot in and sometimes that’s all it takes. For the first time since Pakkun had arrived in the grand hall, Kakashi felt a glimmer of hope. Only for that hope to be shattered almost instantaneously.

The squelching sound of bones dislocating was the only warning Kakakshi had, sadly it was over before he could even react to it. Just like the serpents he had so often emulated, the Sanin’s jaw had extended far beyond what would even be called inhumanly possible. Like a snake shedding its skin, a new undamaged, yet slime covered Orochimaru climbed out of his own body, the only sign of the onslaught Kakashi had unleashed being the signs of sheer rage and hatred coming from his eyes. 

A weight has come over Kakashi, a weight not unlike the one Gaara had inspired in almost every Candidate in the Arena. A weight not unlike one felt by a mouse caught frozen in the presence of a viper. Every one of his survival instincts screamed to flee, to run and fight another day. But he couldn’t. Sasuke was still lying in a heap only a few meters behind him. Naruto was still unconscious off to the side. Sakura was still in shock. He could not flee, he could not leave them behind. He would not back down. 

The dogs, despite their strength, could not maintain the same level of courage. The instincts of predators turned into the instincts of prey in the face of that rage. The fear wasn’t enough to abandon their master, but it was enough to jump back to his side rather than press forward with another attack. They would still fight, they were just shinobi, just as much as any human ninja, yet despite their growling and continued efforts to gnash their teeth, Kakashi could tell his pack was shaken. He couldn’t blame them. 

“Oh I’m impressed, Kakashi,” Orochimaru spit with venom as a snake slowly emerged from his sleeve to retrieve the fallen Kusanagi from the ground. “Who knew a little white mouse was capable of surprises.”

His gamble failed, but at least it seemed to have bought him a few seconds as Orochimaru now studied Kakashi with something not quite akin to apprehension. The Sanin wouldn’t rush straight at him again, in an effort to overpower him through the sheer difference in their strength. No, that little tricky maneuver had bought Kakashi something not even winning the Games had gotten himself all those years ago: his former Mentor’s respect for him as a fighter. It was something he had once been desperate for, before he had gone into that Arena all those years ago, but now it was something he could do without. A reckless Orochimaru was probably the only version of his opponent that he stood a chance against.

Kakashi still couldn't move his arm, which was lying limp at his side. It would still be at least a few minutes before he could run his chakra through it. Which meant it would be a few minutes of hand to hand combat without his dominant arm. A few minutes of wasting excess chakra on jutsu without hand signs. Maybe he could evade, buy time. Moving from pillar to pillar, hiding spot to hiding spot, he and his dogs launching the occasional attack from the shadows, avoiding direct confrontation long enough for the strength to return to his arm. 

No, that wouldn’t work. Orochimaru was too fast; he'd catch up to him long before his arm recovered. Besides that strategy would leave the Genin vulnerable and unprotected out in the open. Who knows what would happen to them, if left for even one more moment to Orochimaru’s devices. 

Kakashi considered just grabbing them all and making a beeline for the exit, running towards the courtyard where a battalion of samurai awaited. No, that wouldn’t work either. The second Kakashi reached for even just Sasuke, Orchimaru would strike. He couldn’t defend himself and hold a Genin at the same time with only one arm. Plus he would still have to get Naruto and Sakura on top of that. 

He couldn’t grab the Genin, but the dogs could, there were enough of them now to carry all three. Hell, Bull could probably carry them all himself. But they were slower than he was, they wouldn’t have any better luck getting out of the chamber than Kakashi, especially since Sasuke was Orochimaru’s true target. As long as the Sanin was focused on the last Uchiha, getting the kids out alive was impossible. 

So then Orochimaru’s focus would have to be put elsewhere. On a sacrificial pawn flung straight at the enemy, one using every little bit of ingenuity and skill he had developed in decades as a shinobi to buy the others every last second they’d need to escape. 

To his credit as a teacher and a comrade, Kakashi Hatake showed no signs of hesitation in what he knew would be the last minutes of his life. With his good hand he signaled his hounds, in a matter of seconds converting his final orders to them. Any anguish or second guessing towards what was about to come, was bottled up by these lifelong companions. Protecting pups was the most important role any ninja hound could have, they all knew this. Tears and howls could come after the job was done.

Kakashi took out the last of his smuggled kunai, lightning chakra coursing through the blade. It wasn’t a chidori but it was the next best thing. His Sharigan locked eyes with Orochimaru’s slitted pupils. Kakashi’s time was up. 

However instead of the sounds of two blades clashing, signifying the start of the final exchange of blows, a sudden barrage of projectiles broke the silence piercing the stone ground at Orochimaru’s feet, surprising both combatants and forcing the Sanin to leap back yet again to avoid the attack. The projectiles had moved swiftly and had kicked up significant dust when they made contact, yet Kakashi’s sharingan could still tell that these were shuriken. Not normal shuriken made of darkened steel, but rather what appeared to be white paper. 

“If that’s really the best Konoha can do, then I think we might have to rethink this partnership,” a familiar voice called out from overhead.

Kakashi’s head snapped upwards, catching sight of his unlikely ally. There floating in the air, a pair of paper wings keeping them aloft was Konan, her own normal emotional mask replaced by a clear look of disdain. Thankfully, for Kakashi’s sake, that disdain was not directed towards him, but rather towards their now shared opponent. 

Even though they were in the middle of a battle against one of Kononha’s most vile traitors, Kakashi couldn’t help but smile. “I appreciate the assistance, but it’s not like I was completely out of options here” he lied. 

“If that’s what you need to tell yourself,” she snarked back,as she slowly landed on the ground, paper wings unfurled. Kakashi couldn’t help but think that between Konan, Fu, Dosu, that Hoshi boy and even Sai, flight had gone from one of the rarest abilities in the shinobi world in the last few weeks to being as common as grass. Still, he couldn’t help but be grateful to have a flier on his side around this time.

Well he was pretty sure she was on his side, at least for the moment. If she wasn’t here to stab him in the back, then with her help he might actually be able to get everyone out of here alive. 

“Well, well, well if it isn’t the Angel,” Orochimaru’s laugh echoed through the chamber with his words, summoning all attention back towards himself. “How are you doing, Konan.”

“You know each other,” Kakasahi asked his ally harshley, his eyes still focused on their opponent. 

“I’ve had the misfortune of running into him once or twice,” she replied maybe a little too quickly. “Let’s just say I have standing orders to eliminate him on sight, same as you.”

“Oh is your dear leader still mad at me,” Orochimaru chuckled. “After all this time, I had hoped he would let bygones be bygones.”

Okay so something had gone down between Orochimaru and Hanzo, that much was clear to Kakashi. But no time to ponder on that now, it would just be one more thing that would need to be investigated later. 

Konan continued, not entirely ignorant of Kakashi’s thoughts. “He wants your head on a platter, and I’m more than happy to give it to him,” she said, settling into a stance. “I’ll make sure to sever it before the samurai get here.” She smirked with that statement

Kakakashi breathed a mental sigh of relief. The samurai would surely be here soon, not even Orochimaru could defeat them both, grab Sasuke and escape the Land of Iron’s ultimate stronghold, with a hoard of warriors on his back. Either he’d flee now, meaning they all survived this, or he’d stay and fight. Kakashi wasn’t sure exactly how strong Konan was, but with her help and samurai reinforcements they might actually have a shot at bringing down the bastard once and for all. Even now a little feeling was starting to  return to his finger tips. He too settled into a combat stance. It was time to kill a snake. 

“Well look at that, two of my favorite mice working together, under the delusion that they’re on the same side,” the tone of Orchimaru’s voice shifted. There was always something sinister about the way he talked, but something was worse about it this time, as another layer of unease settled over Kakashi.

“Your leader may still hold a grudge, Konan, but I don’t see why we both still can’t get what we want,” Orochimachu slowly raised a finger as both Kakashi and Konan steeled themselves for an attack, but one never came. No, the Snake Sannin did something far worse than unleash a swarm of snakes or a cloud of poison. All he did was point his finger. Instinctually both of their eyes followed the path of the finger, and upon seeing its target, Kakashi's face turned cold.

“That,” Orochimaru continued, “is Naruto Uzumaki, the Kyubi’s jinchuuriki.”

Konan froze at those words, her face masking countless different thoughts as she analyzed who knew how many ramifications and pros and cons in a single second. It was a process Kakashi recognized in himself, a mind that could not stop thinking until it found the best conclusion as quickly as it possibly could. Kakashi’s own mind debated running his kunai through her throat before she could arrive at that decision, yet he held off. For the moment.

Orochimaru prodded further, “I have a way out of this fortress, Konan. We could both walk out of here with our prizes, right here, right now, all you have to do is let me kill the little pest standing next to you.”

“NOW,” Kakashi shouted, with that statement, finally acted, throwing his lightning-covered kunai straight towards Orochimaru. The Sannin effortlessly sidestepped the attack and prepared for a counter. None came. 

Instead Kakashi jumped backwards putting himself directly between a surprised Konan and Sasuke, which in turn put her directly between himself and Orochimaru. The standoff had bought Kakashi time, enough time for feeling to return to his arm, allowing him to power up a new chidori within seconds. But more importantly the standoff had given the dogs enough time to get into position. Bull, with Pakkun directing him, had already grabbed Sasuke by his shirt, pulling him with his teeth, as he quickly dragged the unconscious genin across the stone floor, as he sped towards the direction of the elevator shaft. The rect of the pack had followed suit, grabbing Naruto and Sakura and doing the best they could to drag them to safety. That particular method of rescue might lead to a few more bumps and bruises along the way but that was a tradeoff Kakashi was willing to make. 

“THEY’RE GETTING AWAY,” Orochimaru shouted as he lunged forward, however at the moment Konan made her decision, launching another barrage of paper projectiles, from her wings. Not at the dogs, not at Kakashi, but at Orochimaru. 

Unlike the paper shuriken from before these made contact with their target. Also unlike those shurkin, this round of projectiles exploded upon contact, shaking the chamber in the process, and covering the area with smoke. Thankfully the stone columns held and the ceiling did not cave in.

The dogs were not distracted, as they were single minded in their purpose of carrying their charges to safety. Within moments they were out of Kakashi's sight, and soon all of them would be out of danger. Priority 1, protect the kids, was underway, but that didn’t mean they were all out of the woods yet. . 

Still shrouded by the smoke, Orochimaru’s voice echoed throughout the room. “Live with your delusions for now, but mark my words, Kakashi, when the time comes he will seek me out. And when that time comes, everything you have both worked to build and protect will fall.”

With that final warning, the smoke from the blast cleared and the snake Sanin. Both Kakashi and Konan stayed on their guard, but as the seconds turned into minutes and the sounds of stampeding ironclad warriors moving through the chamber, Kakashi at last allowed the last crackles of his chidori to die down and Konan allowed her wings to retract, leaving not even a scrap of paper left to show they ever existed in the first place. Neither said a word, they merely stared at each other as the samurai arrived on the scene. 

Well that was becoming more trouble than it was worth. The Hatake brat surprised him, he really didn’t think the boy had that kind of fight in him. The arrival of his former colleague certainly complicated matters. Fighting them both at the same time would have been tricky, but he had little doubt he would have killed them both if he had enough. Still, that situation was definitely heading south, at the rate it was going he would have been fighting the entire fortress before too long. 

No, he had gotten to where he was today by knowing when to cut his losses. He might have been a little too excited, acted a little too rashly going after Sasuke here of all places. Not everything had gone to plan, but he’d put his mark on the Uchiha, that was still a victory. He might not have gotten his perfect vessel today, but he would sooner or later, that much he was sure of. 

The Akatsuki’s interference in his ambitions however was unacceptable. He would make sure Konan would pay for that. Once Sarutobi-sensei and Konoha were taken care of, he’d make sure to visit her and his former leader next. 

He wasn’t quite ready to go back to his labs or Oto quite yet. Sasuke may be the perfect vessel, but it was still always a good idea to have a backup option if things didn’t pan out. There were still so many intriguing possibilities, it would be so hard to choose. That problem would take care of itself, the choices would whittle themselves down soon enough. All he had to do was wait for a Victor to emerge.

Several Hours Later

The entire fortress had gone under lockdown, nobles were being assigned bodyguards, squads of samurai were combing to the countryside trying to hunt down Orochimaru. They weren’t going to find him, Kakashi knew that much. Attacking someone in the fortress during the Games was insane, it was a good way to piss off every person alive with even a modicum of influence or military power backing them up. Only a mad man would try something so brazen with the whole world’s eyes on them. 

The samurai had investigated Oto’s apartments, only to find the village’s attendants dead in their own suite, their throats slit with no signs of even a minimal struggle. This was a major break in security and an even bigger loss of face for the Land of Iron. Heads would roll for this lapse, quite possibly literally once the Games were over. For now everyone was confined to their rooms, even the nobles, but that wouldn’t last long. The pageantry of the Games would continue come morning, not even the appearance of a notorious S-Rank criminal could do more than temporarily delay the circus. Odds were the mentors had already been allowed back to the observation room. The ongoings of the Arena ignored the real world, and Candidates would need their mentors’ help regardless of any ‘minor’  international incidents.

But Kakashi didn’t care about any of that, as he watched over his three sleeping Genin in the Fortress’s medical wing. Neither Sasuke nor Naruto had awakened since their confrontation with Orochimaru. Sakura couldn’t stop shaking the entire time, Kakashi couldn’t blame her, no Genin should have to experience that monster. No Jounin should have to experience that monster. Her injuries were less servere than the boys, but she was being kept under observation just in case. She had managed to snap out of her stupor just long enough to give Kakashi and the Samurai as detailed a report as she could, before they finally gave her a powerful sleeping draught to put her under. She needed her rest. 

The chief medic tried to give him a sleeping draught of his own, but Kakashi wouldn’t let himself sleep quite yet. He wasn’t quite ready to tear his eyes from them quite yet. He had to leave them eventually, he knew that, Sai and Yakumo still needed his help. There had been another panther attack that night. They were okay, Kakashi knew that much, but one panther had torn through the pack carrying the majority of their food supply. They would need new rations in the mornings, rations that would nearly exhaust what little remained of Konoha’s accounts. 

Still that was a problem for the morning, as Kakashi continued to guard over his Genin. He wasn’t alone in this regard, his entire pack was in the wing despite the medical staff’s attempts to shoo them out. They were alert, lying at the side of the Genin’s beds, some resting on the beds themselves at the trio’s feet, their eyes steadfast on any person other than Kakashi who entered the room. Pakkun had even found himself a comfortable spot on Naruto's forehead. Under any other circumstances a group of dogs resting around children would’ve been considered an adorable image. Not here though, not now. 

The dogs would stay by the trio’s side for the remainder of the Games, as would a contingent of Samurai guards. The danger had likely passed, but Kakashi wasn’t taking any chances, and neither was Lord Mifune. Samurai honor had been damaged without the possibility of a second attempt on Sasuke.

Sasuke. There was no mistake that that was a curse mark forming on his neck. Kakashi had done his best to seal it up, but that really wasn’t his specialty. He’d have Jiraiya take a look at the boy the next time the Toad Sage was in the village. Still Sasuke would need a lot more help than that, all of them would. 

Why the Hell was he here, why were any of them here? They should all be back home complaining about D-Rank missions, getting into silly little arguments over things that weren’t actually important. He was their sensei, he was Sai and Yakumo’s mentor, he was supposed to protect them all. He knew he couldn’t do that forever, they would all grow up and sooner or later have to fight their own battles without him. The way of shinobi cared little for one’s age, no place was a better reminder of that than the Arena. Still when he looked out on Naruto, Sakura and Sasuke at this moment, he couldn’t see weapons of war, no all he saw were children resting. 

He wasn’t doing anything for them now, there really wasn’t anything more he could do for them until they woke up. They were as safe as they possibly could be given the circumstances, and being the insomniac, chakra depleted, walking corpse that he was, odds were his presence at this point didn’t really add anything to their security. He was analytically self aware enough to know that, but still leaving them now was hard. Much harder than working up the courage to throw himself into a suicidal charge against a sadistic psychopath, who was much stronger than him. 

He couldn’t help them at the moment, but there were still 2 kids he could help, and it was that thought that finally allowed Kakashi to drag himself to his feet, that thought which gave him the strength to leave the room, that thought which allowed him to make his way to the mentors’ room escorted by too many samurai for him to even bother to count. The hospital wing was several hallways and a number of floors away from the mentors’ room, yet it felt like not even a minute had passed by the time he had made his way to where all the other jounin monitored their candidates. 

Outside of the sounds of panther growls on the main feed, the room was dead silent the moment he entered. Despite his exhaustion, Kakashi was still aware enough of his surroundings to know almost every single eye was on him. Orochimaru’s attack was supposed to be a closely guarded secret until more intelligence could be gathered, so of course there probably wasn’t a single person in the entire fortress who didn’t know at least a grossly exaggerated account of the events by now. Shinobi as skilled as the ones in this room were good enough to parse fact from fiction, nevertheless their focus on him made sense. That wasn’t an odd feeling for him, he was no stranger to being the center of attention, no Victor was after all. 

So it was easy to ignore the looks of grudging respect, trained suspicion, and in Shibuiki’s case nervous  awe (seriously how was that man a mentor) as he made his way to his monitor. Besides, the only person in the room whose attention he really wanted was already sitting there. 

Konan was probably the only mentor in the room who’s eyes weren’t drilling into his back, as she was quite purposely focused on the screen in front of her. He didn’t know how long she’d been there, he hadn’t seen her since the samurai had ushered them into separate interrogation rooms. Though if she had truly wanted to ignore him, she would have stayed by Ame’s monitor. Technically she shouldn’t have even been allowed at Konoha’s station without him there, but they were considered allies both in the ring and now very much outside of it as well. Small allowances would be made, in this case at least. 

She didn’t say a word to him as he sat down, nor did he say anything to her. Minutes passed by, eventually everyone's attention returned to their own candidates, and the bustles of hushed conversations and tones between allies restored the normal white noise that had dominated the room for the past several days. Despite that noise, the silence between them remained. 

It took 15 minutes before Kakashi finally said what he wanted to say. 

“Thanks. If you weren’t there, I don’t know if I could have saved them. I will always be grateful to you for that.”

“No one deserves to be in the hands of that monster,” Konan didn’t move her eyes from the screen, as she replied in low tones. “There’s no need to thank me.”

“I wasn’t done,” he said a bit more forcefully. “I am grateful, but if you or anyone from Ame comes anywhere near Naruto, if you even look at him for a second too long, then I will cut you down without a second’s hesitation, damn the political consequences.” His sharingan was still covered by his headband, but even so, he could feel Obito’s eye whirl with that statement. 

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, and to his surprise she chuckled. 

“I’m glad we’re finally being honest with each other Kakashi. Now can we focus on the mission at hand, we still have work we need to do here.”

He gave his warning. Whether she was friend or foe he couldn’t say, though the shinobi world was rarely ever that black and white. For now she was an ally and a threat. She saved his kids, and he still needed her if he was going to save one more. They were professionals, they could work together for the mission. Wouldn’t be the first time Kakashi had teamed up with someone he was fairly certain was gonna drive a kunai in his back at the first opportunity. If she didn’t succeed, odds were she wouldn’t be the last. 

“We do have a big day tomorrow,” Kakashi said standing up. “Get your rest, we’ll need to be at our best tomorrow. The kids need sponsor money”

“Oh, I think we’ll have some better luck. By now all the rich lords and ladies should know about the ‘forbidden lovers’ from different villages coming together to save them all from a wicked S-Class criminal. 

They should be much more willing to open up their pockets.” 

“And if they haven’t heard it, we’ll make sure to give them every harrowing detail,” he replied. Civilians loved a good ninja story, and were prone to believe even the biggest of exaggerations. He and Konan would be heroes by the time they were done soliciting donations. They’d get the money they’d need, for the first time he was sure of that. 

Kakashi wandered out of the Mentor’s Room, making his way back towards the hospital wing. That would be his de facto quarters until his kids were out. If the samurai escorting him had a problem with that, well they would just have to deal with it. Deal with it they would, an attack in their biggest stronghold was their failure. As far as he was concerned they owed him one. 

It took him several minutes longer to get back to where Naruto, Sasuke and Sakura were resting, or perhaps he was just a bit more aware of his surroundings on his return trip. Still it wasn’t a particularly long trip in the grand scheme of things he thought as he sat down in an old wooden chair overlooking the three beds. His dogs, nodded in greeting at his arrival. Good, they were awake and still on guard. One of them would wake him in the morning. 

He wasn’t gonna make it much longer like this, that much he knew. Even Kakashi of the Sharingan needed to rest eventually. So with what little chakra he had left, he cast a genjustu, a small one, on himself, and offering no resistance, at last allowed himself to finally fall asleep. 

He’d awake three hours later to barking dogs, and the sounds of two Genin hurling insults at each other while wrestling on the floor with the third one shouting as she desperately tried to break them up. 

Chapter Text

She was lying on a bed of white fluffy clouds, bathed by the warmth of the sun. Everything seemed so bright, so warm. She felt light, light as a feather, part of her believed she could fly. That was silly, humans couldn’t fly, yet if she simply extended her arms she knew she would be able to soar through the air. 

Oh there was nothing she wanted more than to fly, to touch the stars, see everything that the eye could see. She would grab her friends by the hand and together they would just soar, unencumbered by pain or hardship, knowing nothing but the joy of the sky. 

What were her friends’ names again? Did she have friends? She could have sworn she did, but when she tried to think of their names, tried to remember what they looked like, all she could see were fuzzy images, like poorly drawn pictures made by a child. She tried harder to remember, but soon a dull ache throbbed across her forehead. The pain grew sharper and sharper the more she tried to remember.

What was her name? Did she have a name? She must have had a name, everybody had a name. What was it? It was her name afterall, shouldn’t she know it? Why wouldn’t anyone tell her? 

Where was everyone? Why was she alone? Was she even real? Of course she was real. She was a person, she had hands, feet and a body, of course she was real. Where were her hands though? She tried to move them in front of her face, to prove to herself she was real, but she couldn’t lift her arms. They were too heavy like they were being held down by stones. 

Her head was pounding, she was so cold. So cold. It was dark, so dark. Wasn’t it bright just a second ago? Was that a second ago? Maybe it was a minute, maybe it was a year, maybe it was longer. How long had she been here? Where was she? Why was no helping her? She tried to scream but no sound came out. 

So cold. So, so cold. 

It had been 3 days. Gaara had waited here for 3 days. 3 days of his mother calling out, 3 days of every ounce of his being begging him to leave the cavern and prove his existence to the entire world. That’s why he had volunteered for these games, against his father’s wishes, not that he ever truly cared what that man wanted. Worthy adversaries waited for them outside these walls, strong opponents, ones who would finally satiate him.

Every ‘logical’ part of him told him to leave, to go find his prey and yet he remained sitting on the cold damp ground, the same spot he occupied for the last three days looking over a worthless dying girl. 

Matsuri hadn’t woken up since the bloodbath. Oh she had mumbled incoherently in her sleep, and tossed around quite violently at some points, but she had never truly awoken. She drank water, out of some latent instinct perhaps, when Gaara would bring the bottle to her lips, but that was the only sign she had given at all that she was aware of the outside world.

Looking after her was far more tiresome than it had any right to be. For someone who despite his young age had already taken so many lives, fought so many battles, the simple tasks of giving an unconscious girl water, changing her bandages, and cleaning up after her, shouldn’t have been nearly as exhausting as it was. Yet he felt drained, far more drained than he had after his battle with Suigetsu. The whole situation was far more troublesome than it was worth.

Achoo.

“Wow Shikamaru, you’ve been sneezing a lot lately. A lot of people must be thinking of you.”

“Troublesome.”

A boy who could never sleep and a girl who couldn’t wake up. There was something about it that almost felt like one of those old children’s stories Yashamaru used to tell him as a child.  (Little did Gaara know, a struggling writer from Kumo watching the Games would have a similar thought, and would be inspired to pen a series of moderately successful children’s novels.) 

Gaara had been thinking a lot about Yashamaru these last few days. No one had ever looked at Gaara quite like Yashamaru did. Or course Yashamaru was a liar, but still while Gaara would never admit it, part of him missed his Uncle’s eyes which just seemed to be different than everyone else’s. Matsuri’s eyes were different, they weren’t like Yashaamru’s, for a moment back during the interviews he thought they were, but they were still different in their own way. 

She had laughed at him. At Him. No one had ever done that before. Gaara had witnessed laughter before, much of it forced and uncomfortable, a little of it genuine though in most of those cases the perpetrator of those real laughs were unaware of his presence. He had never been the subject of laughter before. He didn’t know how he felt about that. 

Not knowing something was a feeling Gaara was unaccustomed to. It was ultimately the feeling that Gaara believed was the reason he was still here, as he looked toward the bed of sand Matsuri rested on top of. HIS sand, the sand he had carried with him everywhere, the sand that had guarded him his entire life. The sand that even now, refused to be called back to his gourd when he attempted to manipulate it. 

That had never happened before either. His sand always followed him, always did what he willed. Oh he knew it was capable of acting on its own, but only ever to protect him, to guard him from harm creating his automatic ultimate defense. But that automatic defense had only ever come to shield him. Until three days ago when it caught Matsuri before she could hit the floor. 

Gaara hadn’t directed it, it had acted completely on its own. As it did now, when it refused to abandon the girl. He remembered when he first tried to recall it mere minutes after Matsuri had first fallen unconscious. For the first time there was resistance to the pull he always had over the sand. It pushed back against him, mentally snapping at him, almost like he was being scolded for being impolite or unthoughtful.

The sand had stayed so Gaara stayed. The only time it allowed him to move it was when he used it to carry Matsui to the island in the center of the cavern where the Cornucopia lay. Even then it moved far slower, and placed her on the ground far more gently than he intended. 

He bandaged Matsuri’s wound as best he could. It was a struggle, he wasn’t used to struggling. He had never put much thought into healing. He had always concerned himself more so with inflicting wounds than patching them up. He was a killer not a nurse, yet that was the role he found himself filling in this cavern.

He walked back over to the Cornucopia, as it was time to change Matusri’s bandages again. He didn’t know much about healing but he believed bandages were something that needed to be changed. As he rifled through one of the medical kits lying on the ground, he ignored the salves, the disinfectants, the things that if he had applied to Matsuri’s injury on the first day may very well have given her a chance at life. 

He didn’t do this out of malice or cruelty, but rather out of ignorance. Gaara had never attended an academy class, he had never received any instruction on field medicine. He had never been injured, and he never bothered to waste time watching others be healed. He didn’t visit Kankuro in the hospital when he broke his arm, nor did he pay any attention to Baki applying first aid when an errant kunai grazed Temari on a mission. If he had perhaps, he would’ve known that the vials he was tossing away could have saved him from these days of exhausting boredom. Not that they would do Gaara or Matsuri any good at this point.

Gaara found what he was looking for, and grabbed some food pills from a nearby crate while he was at it. Even he needed to eat. He also grabbed an orange for Matsuri. She hadn’t taken any solid food in a few days, but maybe that would change this time. She always had an orange at breakfast when Baki made them all eat together before the Games, even on days when she was too nervous to eat anything else. Maybe her favorite fruit would compel her subconscious to actually eat. He grabbed a bottle of water, she would need to drink something too. 

He paused. Why did he know what her favorite fruit was? Why was he getting her water? What was he still doing here? 

Gaara couldn’t answer those questions, yet he still found himself bringing these objects over to Matusri’s..bedside? He kneeled over her, gradually unwrapping the stained and dirt covered bandages covering her stomach. Even all these days later the wound was an ugly red, red line streaking out across Matsuri’s skin. She wasn’t getting better, despite everything Gaara had done. If anything her breathing was getting weaker and weaker. He raised the bottle of water to Matsuri’s lip, but the girl’s previous instincts failed to kick in and made no effort to drink a single drop. 

She was going to die, he had known that since day 1 in the cavern. Hell he had known that the first time he laid eyes on her when his father called out her name at the reaping all those weeks ago. She was such a scrawny thing, even though they were the same height she had always seemed so small, not even worth noticing. Just another insect he would step on, on his way to more tantalizing prey. She was going to die soon, very soon. For some reason that felt different compared to earlier thoughts of her demise, Gaara couldn’t understand why. 

Klang

The sound of sand striking metal echoed throughout the cavern. Startled Gaara rose to attention. Were they under attack?  No. There was no movement in the cavern. No one else was here but him and Matsuri. No one but them.

It seemed his sand struck the walls of the cornucopia. On further inspection Gaara realized that he had raised his arm towards the structure without even noticing it. So he had struck the cornucopia then? Why? Why would he do that? Out of anger? Sure that made sense, he was angry, he knew he was angry. Being stuck in this cavern for days on end with no outlet, no way of proving his existence to the world has been a…frustrating experience to say the least. But throughout those 4 days he hadn’t once lashed out in anger, though he had been sorely tempted to on numerous occasions. 

That anger made sense, who wouldn’t be angry at being denied when they were so close to getting what they wanted. But why was he angry now? Matsuri was dying, the only thing anchoring him to a bleak, wet place would soon be gone. He should be relieved, excited even at the anticipation of finally being able to walk forth into the arena to track his prey. But he wasn’t. 

He looked back to Matsui, even now it seemed like it took all the effort of her unconscious form just to force her chest to rise up in what were increasingly weak breaths. Her time would come, she probably only had a few hours left now, she’d surely be dead by nightfall. Then it’d be over and he could finally leave. 

…

…

…no.

No. 

He had not wasted all these days just for Matsuri to die the same as she would have if he had just left her to bleed on the ground all those days ago. Gaara had sunk far too much time and energy into the girl for that to be the outcome he rationalized. She would live, no other option was acceptable. At least until she could provide an answer for why he had done any of this in the first place. 

He couldn’t save her though. That was not the easiest of acknowledgements for Gaara to make. There hadn’t been very many things in life he couldn’t accomplish when he was truly focused on a task. This however was beyond him, truly beyond him.

The Cornucopia didn’t have any answers. He’d watch the Games almost his entire life, he always found them…entertaining. He might not have paid much attention to the events of the competition outside of the combat but he did know that it was doubtful the gamemakers would put anything in the structure that could save Matusri in her current condition. 

But there had been one year, a particularly interesting Games when Gaara was younger that he had watched almost every second of. It had been a quick affair, only lasting about two days, one of the shortest competitions in the Games’ history. The arena was small, a grassy plain with few places to hide so there was almost no break in combat between the Candidates. There was no time to look away that year, to distract himself with other things, otherwise he could miss the best of the action. So he had spent the entire 48 hours standing in Suna’s central village square watching the public broadcast, not missing a single second. 

There had been a boy from Konoha that year, one who many tabbed as the competition’s top contender, Gaara couldn’t bother to remember his name, but his thoughts returned to him now. The boy had slain Suna’s female Candidate, a poison specialist, who despite her defeat had managed to infect the boy with one of her nastier concoctions. He had wandered, limping, collapsing to the ground under one of the few pieces of cover the sparse arena had allowed. By all means the Konoha boy should have died right there, but just when it seemed  he would succumb to poison, an eagle had dropped a package right at his side. An antidote, a sponsor gift that the announcers had stated would have surely cost Konoha quite a substantial amount of cash. But the boy had been the frontrunner, so Konoha had the investors and the sponsor money to afford such a priceless life saving gift. 

The Konoha boy had lived thanks to the gift. Well for a few more hours, he would be blown to smithereens in the Games’ finale by that year’s Victor, an explosives expert from Iwa. 

Gaara was the frontrunner this year, of course he was. Baki had informed him before the games that Suna had the largest pool of sponsor money in the entire competition. He hadn’t thought much of that fact at the time. Why would he need sponsor money? He wouldn’t need a weapon, he would never be injured, he was perfectly competent when it came to procuring his own food. But if a high priced sponsor gift had saved that Konoha boy all those years ago, then perhaps one could save Matsuri.

Well then why hadn’t Baki sent one? Yes, Matsuri was worthless as far as the village was concerned, but Baki couldn’t be happy with Gaara staying in the cavern when he should be out in the Arena winning ‘glory’ for Suna. So he should have sent something to treat Matsuri by now, something that would allow her to recover and spur Gaara into action. But he hadn’t. 

Of course Baki couldn’t send them anything. Sponsor gifts were delivered by bird, they always had been and Gaara and Matsuri were underground. There was no way anything could be delivered to them here. That left only one course of action: it was time to finally leave the cavern. 

He should’ve felt elated at that thought. He would finally see what the rest of the Arena would have to offer, and would finally have the chance to hunt. Who knew how many of the other Candidates were left at this point. He had heard a few bells ring out over the past few days, each one signifying a Candidate's death, but he had never bothered to pay enough attention to keep count. Still he would have that opportunity now. Yet instead of joy, he moved with the professional purpose of a shinobi with a job to do. 

He went to the cornucopia, taking one of the largest packs he could find. Over the next few minutes he would fill the bag with as many food pills and bottles of water as he could. It'd be enough to last them at least a week, though Gaara doubted that the competition would go on that long once he had truly entered the Games. Still better to be prepared than not. He also included a few rolls of bandages, Matsuri may need them. Against his better judgement he also packed a small bundle of oranges.

Moving Matsuri out of the cavern would have to be done carefully in her condition. The bed of sand she was resting on rose slowly, as gingerly and carefully as it possibly could. Whether he was the one doing that or if the sand was again moving of its own volition, Gaara couldn’t say. He wasn’t sure if he could tell the difference anymore at this point. 

So they moved, slowly far too slowly for Gaara’s liking, yet he made no effort to speed up the procedure. He walked off the island, moving over the pool of water that surrounded the cornucopia and walking through the forest of stalagmites that surrounded the platforms where all the Candidates had stood when the Games had begun. The whole time the bed of sand hovered above his head carrying Matsuri with him towards the cavern’s edges. 

Several of the tunnels on the cavern’s walls had collapsed several days earlier behind the fleeing Candidates. Gaara could have forced his way through one of these barriers, taking a path that would give him a better chance of finding another Candidate. But that would lead to a battle and combat would make it more difficult to get Matsuri her medicine. 

She was the priority, for the moment. So he led her through one of the uncollapsed openings. The entrance they had both passed through collapsed behind them, sealing their path from the cavern. A sense of relief washed over Gaara, they had finally, finally left that accursed place. Hopefully there would never ever be any reason for them to return. 

Gaara spent the next hour walking through a lightless tunnel. It wasn’t the pace he would have preferred to move at, but it was the only pace that the sand would allow him to move Matsuri at. At times the tunnel would move uphill, but for the majority of the journey it moved downwards. Gaara didn’t know it, but he had been lucky enough to pick one of the shorter tunnels. 

At last, for the first time in four days, Gaara saw sunlight. If he moved with a bit more of a pep in his step at the thought of finally breathing fresh air and feeling the warmth of daylight, well he would never admit that to himself much less to another living soul. The relief of finally experiencing those things was so distracting that Gaara entirely ignored a small lynx at the tunnel’s exit, which would ultimately scurry off into a small otherwise barely noticeable hole in the ground after a few moments. 

They were at the base of a mountain, right on the edges of a forest. While he would have preferred a desert setting, that would have probably been a little too much to ask for. At least they weren’t stuck in wetlands, that might have caused him some problems. A forest and mountain arena might not have been his first choice, but he could make it work. 

He turned his eyes to the sky, judging by the position of the sun it was late afternoon. It was hard to keep track of time in the cavern, but he had been confident that it would be a bit earlier in the day. Another thing he hadn’t quite gotten right. It was a small thing, but still, these little small failing were gradually stacking up. 

He took a deep breath. It was fine, he was out of the cavern, all the small mistakes of the last few days could be forgotten. Now he could do what he did better than anyone else. No more waiting, now he could truly begin to hunt. 

As soon as Matsuri recovered. He looked back to the girl, who the sand had lowered to the ground under the shade of a nearby tree. Once again it had acted without him even realizing. Nothing was really working the way it was supposed to, not since the Games had begun. No matter, she’d be fine, the delivery should be here soon. She needed strong medicine that Gaara knew, but they could afford it. He looked back towards the sky, placing the bag carrying all the supplies he had taken from the Cornucopia on the ground. It should only take a minute or two for the hawk to appear above the horizon and make the delivery. 

Any minute now. 

Any. Minute. Now. 

Sai undid the bandage on his right arm. It was a shallow cut, a little souvenir from their most recent encounter with the Panthers last night. It wasn’t an injury he would’ve concerned himself with more often than not. Better to be safe than sorry though, in this setting even a minor infection could become a significant problem to bounce back from. 

He looked to his ‘comrades’ they were currently making camp by the same lake they had splashed into their first night in the Games. They all had their fair share of cuts and bruises from the last 4 days, even with Yakumo’s jutsu providing an effective barrier, the Panthers attacks had been relentless, with the creatures last night throwing themselves through the girl’s fire in an attempt to massacre the Genin. Most had been repealed or burned to the death in the attempt, but those that got through had fought as viciously as any wounded animal Sai had seen before. 

They were all exhausted and hungry, even a ROOT operative like Sai was beginning to feel the effects. Sleeping at night was impossible with the Panthers attacks lasting till dawn, and sleeping during the day could only be done in short intervals as the group attempted to explore their area in search of the other Candidates.

At least the hunger problem was being treated. The group had gotten a fairly substantial delivery, their first sponsor gift in days. Sai didn’t know what they could’ve possibly done to have earned the sponsor money for such a delivery, but for possibly the first time in his life, he chose to not to look underneath the underneath. They needed food and Kakashi had gotten it for them. How their silver haired mentor pulled that off, ultimately didn’t really matter. 

Still he watched as Ajisai, Shigure and Yakumo tore into the supply of dried meats, fruit and bread with a gusto that didn’t quite meet the standards of a shinobi’s discipline. They’d have to make sure they’d ration that food a bit better going forward, who knew if or when they would get another gift, but after a few days of barely eating, a little gouging was understandable. He’d let it slide, just this once, After all they would need their strength for tomorrow. 

Four days in the arena, and they hadn’t seen a single other Candidate since the Bloodbath. It was a large arena that was clear, and with the Panthers attacking every night, he doubted any of the other Candidates had the energy to cover much distance during the day. No food in the arena, no rest, and deadly predators, this was becoming less so a competition valuing combat, and more so one that seemed hell bent on pushing the Genin to the brink of their ability to survive. 

True there were 11 deaths so far, but the vast majority of those had come in the initial bloodbath and the first night of Panther attacks. No one had died in the last 48 hours. The killing had slowed to a crawl. This was becoming a test of endurance, sooner or later, one by one they’d likely all fall to these creatures. Though at this rate the Games could last several weeks, maybe even months. 

He looked toward the tired injured group of allies he had surrounded himself with, particularly Yakumo. The lack of sleep and food had taken a toll on her. She was always too frail for these games even under the best of conditions. No she didn’t have weeks left, even with the new food supply she’d likely only have another few days before she collapsed from exhaustion. Without her, fending off the Panthers every night would be a far more difficult task. This was going too slowly, and time just wasn’t on their side. Something needed to change. 

Sai looked towards the staggering mountain, at what he presumed to be the center of the arena, as he put the finishing touches on the plan he had been working on all day. They’d eat well now, regain their strength, and if everything went perfectly, then tomorrow would be the day he’d win the Games for Konoha. Nothing ever went perfectly in the Arena, he thought as he bit into a piece of jerky, but even if something went wrong he’d settle for eliminating 90% of the remaining Candidates in one go.

Gaara was not a patient jinchuriki, not that such a thing as a patient jinchuriki had ever existed as far as anyone knew. That lack of patience had been tested more in the last few days than perhaps any other point in his life. So as the minutes ticked away without any sign of a hawk or a sponsor gift arriving, no one really should have been surprised at how he reacted. 

“Medicine,” he shouted out, not quite unlike a child demanding the return of it’s favorite toy. His voice was much raspier than usual to his own surprise, realizing that he hadn’t spoken a word since the Games had begun. 

Still no bird appeared, still his patience was tested. 

“Medicine,” he shouted a bit more forcefully, more anger and impatience seeping into his voice, creating a guttural, yet desperate sound for the countless viewers watching this moment around the continent. For the first time in his entire life Gaara had something that he had secretly longed for his entire life; the sympathy of the masses for a boy crying out to the world for help. 

Yet the unknown sympathy of people watching from the safety of their own villages and countries, did nothing for Gaara in this moment. Another minute passed by and once again there was no bird. 

“MEDICINE,” he shouted with all the animalistic rage the host of a Bijuu could muster, his voice echoing up the mountain side. His eyes were wild with fury. In the light, one might even think the color of his eyes in the briefest of moments had changed from blue to yellow, a fleeting thought dismissed by any civilian outside of Suna who was watching. 

Hundreds of kilometers away Baki involuntarily shivered watching the broadcast. He could feel the eyes of every other mentor on him, as he sat at his station doing nothing. He cared little for their looks of disapproval, disgust or even understanding. In his time as the boy’s sensei, not that he ever really did much teaching, he had only ever seen that look in Gaara’s eyes once, and that was a day that he would never forget, as much as he wished he could. 

He was nowhere near the arena, nowhere near Gaara or any real danger, but Baki’s survival instincts still told him to flee. It wasn’t rational but in the face of what would soon be a rampaging jinchuriki, maintaining rationality was hard even for a seasoned Jounin like him. 

Still Baki did not press any buttons at his station. There was no point, spending money to save Matsuri was a waste of resources. Even for the considerable warchest Suna had amassed for the Games, an antibiotic powerful enough to save her at this point would be considerably expensive and wouldn’t be enough to guarantee her survival. Even if she made it through the night, she wasn’t going to win the Games. She never had a chance in the first place. The Kazekage had made it clear before even the reaping to not waste a single coin on whatever poor girl was thrown in the Arena with Gaara. 

If anything this death would be a kindness compared to whatever inevitable horror would eventually end her life in the Arena. Despite her fears she had saved Gaara at the Bloodbath, for that Baki would always remember Matsuri as a true shinobi of Suna. Once Gaara won and her body was returned to Suna, Baki would advocate for her to be buried with full military honors. He owed her that much. 

But he did not owe her a bird. 

“MEDICINE, MEDICINE, MEDICINE,” Gaara continued to scream back in the arena, each cry seemingly less human than the last. Anyone in the vicinity would’ve started to sense a chakra that wasn’t the boy’s own leaking out into the surroundings. A chakra that was somehow even more malicious and frightening than his. 

If any normal wildlife actually existed in the Arena, then it surely would have fled. Even the Panthers that stalked the night, who Gaara had unknowingly avoided by ignoring the lynx at the tunnel’s exit, would have turned tail and ran from the boy without a second thought. Only a ninja with incredible courage, or more likely one possessing incredible stupidity, would have done anything other than run in that moment. ‘

Or perhaps one who was incredibly desperate. 

A shadow burst out of the nearby bushes, sprinting straight towards Gaara. So distracted by his own rage, he didn’t even notice the figure until they were nearly upon him. But Gaara wasn’t the figure’s target, as they dived forward, lunging for the bag of supplies on the ground. Grabbing the bag, the figure tumbled into a roll, swiftly getting to their feet, racing towards the cover of the forest. 

The sudden movement was enough to break Gaara from his trance.The figure was fast, but Gaara’s sand was faster. Broken out of his stupor, and perhaps a little grateful for something to focus his rage on, he quickly lashed out sending a whip of sand towards the figure’s feet. As always he had pinpoint accuracy wrapping the sand around the figure's ankle sending them crashing to the earth, the bag squirting from their hands, sent rolling onto the ground. 

Normally he likely would have just crushed his victim’s leg then and there, immobilizing them to quickly finish them off. However, after several days trapped in the cavern and all the frustrations of the last several minutes, Gaara wanted to enjoy this. 

Gracefully the figure unsheathed  a sword from their back and in one motion slashed through the sand whip restraining their ankle, quickly jumping to their feet. It was the movement of a skilled swordswoman, but one that Gaara probably wouldn’t have allowed under other circumstances. 

Now standing, Gaara was able to recognize the kunoichi from Nadeshiko. He hadn’t given much thought to the girl during the buildup to the Games, her name was Shizuka he vaguely recalled. From what he remembered she seemed to have the grace of a competent shinobi from how she handled herself, and had a high score for a village as small as hers, which was tiny even among the minor nations. Skilled, but nothing special, especially in comparison to Fu and the Candidates of the 5 Great Nations. 

However that grace that she had carried throughout the opening festivities was nowhere to be seen now. There were deep bags under her eyes, not quite as dark as the lines surrounding Gaara’s own, but still a sign of someone who likely had not slept since the Games began. Her left sleeve had been torn to shreds, with her missing right sleeve likely being used as the bloodied cloth haphazardly used to bandage her left arm. Even now, the slightest tremor in that arm showed her struggles to hold a blade that was clearly meant to be wielded with two hands. 

More importantly, was the look in her eyes. It was one Gaara knew well, he was a jinchurki who had ’lost’ his caretaker at a very young age. Securing food for himself had not been easy, until Gaara had learned he was strong enough to just take it. He knew what hunger was, and staring into this girl’s eyes he saw someone who hadn’t eaten in several days. 

He wouldn’t have been surprised to learn that Nadeshiko hadn’t received enough sponsorship money for even a single loaf of bread. Even under the best of circumstances a village like Nadeshiko could never attract significant investment at the Games, a major reason why they sat out the competition most years. But this year, filled with monsters and incredible justu, no one would invest in what despite Shizuka’s obvious skill, would be considered the longest of long shots.

Disappointing, a kill like this against an opponent in such a state would not be enough to satisfy him. He should have just crushed her ankle at the beginning, this wasn’t a fight worth dragging out. 

To say Shizuka had had a rough few days would be an understatement. She had hoped she could grab the food and run, but that had always been a risky gamble. No she couldn’t win this fight, not in her condition, not against this opponent. She couldn’t get away from him either. This was her first time seeing his sand, it was too fast, she’d never be able to outrun it, not now. All she could do was buy time.

“You know it’s your fault I’m here,” Shizuka uttered with just a tint of regret and resentment, as she slowly took a few steps to her left.  

“I don’t care,” he stepped forward, sand rising into a second whip, ready to strike out and end this. 

Ignoring him she continued. “I was supposed to be the next village head. That’s what they trained me all my life for.” 

“I’m not here for your life story,” he said as he slowly raised his arm. 

She hurried up her speech. “We weren’t even supposed to put a Candidate in the Games, we almost never do, there’s no honor or glory to be won in a fake battle for spectators. But Suna had to throw their jinchurichki into the Arena, everyone got grandiose ideas of becoming a great nation and now I’m here.” 

He paused for a second. She took another step towards her left. 

“Human greed isn’t my fault.”

“No? Tell me something, did they make you come here? Or was it your idea?” Another step to the left, she was almost in position now. 

He didn’t respond, merely glaring at her.

“That’s what I thought, who could force you to do anything. I’m here out of duty to my village, you, you're just probably here for your sick thrills, damn the consequences for everyone else. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you.”

Why was he even listening to this girl? This babbling had gone on long enough, it was time to do what he did best.

Shizuka nodded her head back towards the unconscious Masturi, having now positioned herself directly in between Gaara and the wounded kunoichi without him even noticing. 

“Would that girl be here, dying, if it wasn’t for you?”

Now that statement brought Gaara to a total halt. No she wouldn’t be, the village would never have sent Matsuri into the Games under any other circumstance. They would’ve sent Temari or some nameless girl who would’ve been competent enough to hold their own. Someone with a chance of surviving and winning. If he had just done nothing, Matsuri would be in Suna right now, training, doing a D-Rank mission or doing whatever it was she enjoyed in her free time. 

It was his fault Matsuri was here. It was his fault she was dying. It was his fault. 

What transpired next would in reality only last a few seconds, but for Gaara would feel like it lasted far longer. 

Like a wounded animal, a wounded ninja is perhaps most dangerous when she is desperate. Finally getting the opportunity she was waiting for, Shizuka pounced, not towards Gaara, but towards the unconscious Matsuri. 

It took Gaara less than a moment to realize what was going on, but even that infinitesimal delay was too long. He struck forward, lashing his sand whips towards Shizuka as she leapt through the air, sword raised above her head ready to bring it down on Matsuri’s sleeping form. It was too late, his sand wasn’t going to reach Shizuka before she reached Matsuri. 

The sand Matsuri was resting on rose up in an attempt to form a hasty shield. Had he done that or had it once again acted on its own, even he couldn’t say. It was a thin shield, strong enough to block some kunai, but whether it was strong enough to block a powerful sword strike was a different matter. 

Luckily the shield was never tested, as Shizuka landed, rather than bring down her sword, she pivoted off her front food, expertly shifting her body and momentum, and pouring very last bit of her chakra and strength into one last burst, launched herself back towards Gaara, speeding past the sand whips, aiming her sword straight for his chest in an attempt to impale the jinchuriki. 

No flashy overpowered jutsu, just a simple change in direction and speed designed to take a distracted much stronger opponent off guard.  

But what Shizuka didn’t account for, what she couldn’t have possibly known about, was Gaara’s automatic defense. The remaining sand in his gourd quickly formed a shield, one much stronger than the one that rose to protect Matsuri, one too strong for Shizuka to piece through Not unlike Suigetsu before her, Shizuka found her blade trapped in Gaara’s sand. 

She had no time to react, to try and pull the blade out of the shield, (not that she had the means to), as Gaara’s two sand whips, slammed into Shizuka’s back, who gasped as the breath was knocked out of her and, the force sending her crashing to the ground again. 

There would be no mercy this time, no attempts by Gaara to drag out the fight for his own entertainment, as the shield turned into a wave of sand falling onto the collapsed Shizuka. 

But Gaara didn’t care as he rushed by Shizuka’s struggling form, not turning around to witness the flash of light as his sand crushed her, and completely ignoring the sound of the gong ringing throughout the arena. Before he knew it, he was kneeling over Matsuri’s side. As weak as it was, she was still breathing, no sign of any new damage. 

She could’ve been killed, and he wouldn’t have been able to stop it. Gaara, had been too slow to react, too distracted by his own thoughts to pay attention to the surroundings. That wasn’t like him, no he had always strived to be tuned into every element of the battlefield. Something was wrong with him, something had just been ‘off’ the last few days. He just couldn’t couldn’t figure out what. At least Matsuri had survived the encounter, that was the most important thing. 

Was it? Why did he care? He shouldn’t care and yet inexplicably he had to acknowledge at this point that he did. There was no more use denying it. What was it about this worthless piece of trash, who he had never noticed before his father called out her name at the reaping, that made him care? Wait, that wasn’t quite right. He had noticed her before she walked up the stage. 

He and Kankuro had cut a pretty wide area for themselves at the reaping, none of the other male Genin came anywhere closer to them than they had to. Hell, Kankuro would have probably been standing as far  away from Gaara as he could if he had been allowed. Gaara didn’t think that had bothered him at the time. No, the real problem was the amount of time they were wasting on this frivolous show. Everyone important knew he would be volunteering this year, there was no reason to drag things out. 

Just because everyone gave them a wide berth, didn’t mean people weren’t staring at him and Kankuro. Gaara was no stranger to people staring, but a quick glance in their direction and they would look away soon enough. No one in the village dared look him in the eye, save maybe his father and a few particularly strong willed and hateful jounin. 

A blond boy several meters away quickly turned his head down when Gaara looked his way. A civilian in the crowd practically bolted from the public square when Gaara returned their gaze. A mousy brown haired girl in the kunoichi’s section-

-kept looking at him. Their eyes locked for a few seconds as he stared down this girl. There was something different, there was fear in her eyes of course, but there was no hatred. She just continued to look at him. For a second he was confused, but then he just scoffed and turned away. She was just frozen in fear, that happened occasionally, there was nothing special about that. He didn’t give her a second thought, immediately banishing her from his mind the instant he turned away. He wouldn’t even notice that that girl who didn’t look away, would be the same shaking terrified kunoichi brought to the stage a few minutes later. 

She had looked him in the eyes then. She had looked into his eyes again at the interviews, still with fear, but less so than the first time. And she had looked into his eyes in the Cavern, without fear or hate, and laughed before she had collapsed to the ground. 

Nothing made sense about this girl. Nothing made sense about how he reacted to her. He should have just killed her on day 1 and been done with it. He should have just let Shizuka drive her sword through Matsuri instead of trying to protect her. He had left himself open while doing that, sure everything worked out fine, but against someone faster or stronger, well he might not still be breathing right now. He had left himself vulnerable to protect her, yet another thing he had never done before. 

What was the point of saving her then? All he had bought her was maybe a few hours at best, even now she was paler, and sweating harder than she was even that morning. It would be over very soon and he would never get the answers he was looking for. 

It was his fault. 

Gaara looked to the sky, inadvertently and unknowingly looking straight towards the audience which included most of the known world. He didn’t shout or scream in animalistic fury towards his surroundings. Rather he spoke softly just loud enough for the cameras broadcasting this moment to pick up: 

“Medicine.” After a few more moments he followed that up with one more word. “...please.”

Against his own better judgement as every single other mentor looked on, Baki found himself typing into the monitor in front of him for the first time since the Games began. He made sure to type out as careful instructions as he could. Gaara wasn’t a medic, but he could always follow basic instructions when he wanted to. 

As he finished writing up his request, sending it out to the gamemakers, with enough money attached to pay for more than a few S-Rank missions, he justified the expense to himself. Sure it was a lot, more than he’d make in maybe his entire career, but leaving Matsuri to die while the whole world watched Gaara beg for her life, well that would be too heartless. Clients expected shinobi to be a little heartless, but there was a line. It would be bad for Suna’s image, and the whole point of this endeavor was to save the village’s standing in the world. Sure she would probably die anyways, she was likely too far gone at this point, but an attempt had to be made to save Matsuri’s life, doing anything else would be damming for the village’s reputation. 

That he could have just sent a minor anti-inflammatory,  without drastically depleting Suna’s sponsor money, and leaving no rich clients watching to the wiser, was a thought that did indeed cross his mind. Nevertheless his order for the real drug was processed and approved by the gamemakers. 

It was still dark, the warm fluffy bed she laid on was her only source of comfort. She was still alone and so very, very cold. 

What was her name again? She had a name. She did have a name, she was certain of that now, she wasn’t before. No she definitely had a name, it existed she knew it existed. 

Matsuri. That’s right her name was Matsuri. That was something at least. She was still alone and it was still dark, but she had a name. Names were important, at least she thought they were. Yes, names were important and hers was Matsuri. 

She was still cold, but not very cold. She wasn’t warm, but she could feel…something. Some sliver of heat in the distance. Something that soon washed over her, something comforting in a weird way. She wasn’t quite cold anymore, though she would probably still wear a jacket if given the chance. 

She remembered what a jacket was. She owned one, but she didn’t wear it very often. She lived somewhere warm, no somewhere hot. She remembered that now. It could get very cold at night though not as cold as she was not that long ago, but cold nonetheless. 

Where was she from? She remembered the heat of the sun, the sand coursing through her toes, the smiling faces of what she assumed were her friends. Suna! That’s right, she was Matsuri from Suna. Okay now she was getting somewhere. Matsuri Sakamoto of Suna, people had been calling her that a lot recently. 

She turned her head to the side. She could move. Well sort of, she could move just a little, her body still felt heavy, but it was there, she could tell that at least. 

It was still dark, in this new direction she faced. Or was it? There were little shimmers of light now dancing in front of her eyes. She liked this new direction, it was warmer than before, like she had been wrapped in a nice soft blanket. There was something in the distance, a sound, a low rumble. She could hear, Matsuri could hear. 

Her eyelids felt heavy. It took a little bit of effort, to gradually lift them, and even then they were still pretty much half close, but nevertheless for the first time in 4 days, Matsuri opened her eyes. It was dark out, night had fallen, she was facing a small warm fire which provided the only source of light. For a minute she just watched the little spark and dances of the flame, out of her half opened eyes. It was mesmerizing in a way, oddly calming, almost enough to lull her back to sleep. 

Matsuri was still tired, a strong part of her just wanted to roll back to bed and go back to sleep. But, wait she wasn’t in her bed, she was outside.Why was she sleeping outside, were they on a mission? Everything still felt so foggy. Well if she was on a mission she should probably get up, but she was just so comfortable in bed, too comfortable to get up. There was a rumble in the distance, thunder maybe? No something else. 

The rumble didn’t stop, it got louder, and louder. This definitely wasn’t thunder, no this was a roar. Several roars in unison, from some kind of animal Matsrui had never encountered before. It was like something out of a nightmare. 

She was in a nightmare. The thought alone brought back everything from the past few weeks in an instant. Gaara, the Reaping, the Games, Suigetsu, the Bloodbath, all of it came flooding back. She practically bolted out of bed in response. 

Well, she tried to bolt out of bed, as the second she sat up a deep pain shot through her abdomen and moved throughout her body. She almost screamed, though her voice was so horse that barely any sound came out. Her tongue and the back of her throat felt like sandpaper. Every part of her was sore, even breathing while sitting up, was little more than sharp pain filled gasps. 

“Lie back down, you’re only going to hurt yourself,” came a stern voice from the other side of the fire.  

Matsuri nearly jumped out of her skin for the second time in under a minute. Instead of taking what was genuinely pretty sound advice, she turned as quickly as her protesting body would allow her. 

She hadn't noticed him when she first awoke, but in Matsuri’s defense Gaara was sitting in the shadows, just within the threshold of the light. Still she saw him now as their eyes locked. 

Matsuri attempted to speak but her throat was so dry she could only work up a weak series of coughs, in a fit that ultimately forced her to break eye contact. 

“Lie down,” he said again, standing up in the process. Despite coming across as a command, it was less harsh than the normal statements he made to her. If there was a hint of relief or something else in his voice, well Matsuri was hardly in a proper enough state to notice. 

She wasn’t even in a proper enough state in her coughing fit to notice him make his way around the fire over to her. Yet when he offered her a water bottle, she didn’t question his presence by her side. She reached for the bottle with some effort, barely being able to amass the strength to raise her arms. Even the act of bringing the bottle towards her lip was enough strain to make her hands shake, but she managed it all the same, quickley gulping down the water. 

Another wave of roars nearly made her choke on the water, but Matsuri was now a bit more aware of her surroundings. The roars were loud, they almost made her bones shake, but they were in the distance. More importantly Gaara didn’t seem to be worried about whatever creatures were making those cries. 

“They’ve been howling for 3 hours,” he said, confirming her thoughts. “Whatever’s been making that sound hasn’t come anywhere close to us.” 

Matsuri nodded slowly, her voice was scratchy but this time she managed to successfully form a few words. “How long have I been out?”

“4 days,” he replied bluntly. The last few days in the cave had done little to improve his social graces. 

4 days, she’d been unconscious for 4 days. 4 days was an eternity in the Arena. There were years where the Games didn’t even last that long. How many battles had been fought? How many of the others were dead? If she was being honest even the most optimistic part of her, however small that piece of Matsuri was, didn’t think she’d last this long. By all accounts she really shouldn’t have. With the injuries she had, she probably should’ve in the first minutes of the Bloodbath. She almost had, but by some miracle she was still alive. 

Well maybe not, the boy next to her had clearly kept her alive even though it would have been so much easier to just leave her to die, or even finish her off himself. Though perhaps that was a miracle in it of itself. What did he have to do to keep her alive? 

“Thank you Lord Gaara,” she said with a small smile. 

He was surprised by that, his mask falling for just a moment, but it was back in place just a second later. Still she’d seen that moment, that one little instant where he just seemed a bit more human. If she wasn’t in tremendous pain, surrounded by dangerous animals and in the middle of a death game she had no chance of winning, Matsuri might have laughed at that. It was nice in a way, knowing she could surprise him even just a little. It was nice knowing that he could be surprised at all. 

He paused for a second, long enough for Matsuri to think he wouldn’t respond at all, before he finally replied. 

“Gaara.”

“Excuse me?”

“Just call me Gaara.”

She nodded slowly. “Well then, thank you Gaara.”

He turned away from her, now just staring at the fire. Her eyes followed his to the flames. They sat together in silence just staring at the light. Well silence except for the relentless roaring in the distance, but somehow against all that should have been possible, those roars became nothing but white noise for Matsuri.

She had so many things she wanted to ask Gaara as she struggled to work up the courage to ask a question. Where were they? How many Candidates were left? Clearly they had water, but did they have food? Those were all good questions, appropriate questions for one shinobi to ask another. They were things she objectively needed to know, but they all paled in comparison to what she really wanted to ask him. 

“Why?”

To Matsuri’s surprise the query did not come from her mouth, but rather from Gaara’s. He turned to face her. He didn’t have his trademark glare, nor did he display his normal passive walled off expression. He looked different than he had before. In the weeks they had been forced to spend together he had never once looked like this. He seemed so vulnerable, open, maybe even a little afraid. Afraid of her? No, that was impossible. Wasn’t it? 

She looked at him with confusion, desperate for any hint of clarification before he continued. 

“Why did you save me at the bloodbath, Matsuri?”

She hadn’t been ready for that. To have the very question she had been so desperate to ask him turned back around on her. She looked him in the eyes again, simultaneously struggling to bring out the words, but ultimately speaking without even thinking. 

“You're my comrade Lor…sorry. You’re my comrade Gaara.” She paused seeing the confusion that this time he didn’t bother to hide before continuing. “We’re partners right? Partners look after each other.”

Was that the answer? She scanned his face for any sense of acknowledgment, looking for some sense of validation to her own words. She didn’t even realize he was doing the same.

“We’re comrades?” he asked softy. 

Without evening realizing it Matsuri reached out and grasped his hand. Despite the heat of the fire his hand was cold, but it was also soft, far softer than she could’ve ever imagined it would be. He was startled by the contact, almost jumping back as a result, but he stayed rooted to the spot. When was the last time someone had touched him without the sand even trying to interfere> Honestly he couldn’t remember. 

“Of course we’re comrades,” she spoke in the odd situation of reassuring someone much stronger than her. “We’re going to get through this together because we’re partners.”

“Partners?” He almost sounded out the word like it came from a foreign language. 

“Partners!” she reaffirmed, more confidently. Saying it now, it somehow just felt more right this time.

“Partners,” he said again, easier than he did before. “Partners,” he said one final time to himself, more so than anyone else. 

They sat continuing to look at the fire, only the sounds of far off battles between man and beast disturbing the silence. There was more, more questions to ask, more clarification needed, more that needed to be explored, but for now that was enough. 

At last Gaara stood, removing his hand from Matsui’s and reaching into his pocket. “You need to rest, you’re still too weak.”

Once again they were blunt words, but they were almost spoken kindly. 

“But the beasts?” No Matsuri hadn’t quite forgotten their surroundings, she’d come close in that moment by the fire, closer than she’d like to admit, but she was still a ninja. 

“They won’t be a problem. If they come I’ll stop them.” There was no question in his voice now, this was a statement of fact. He pulled an object out of his pocket and placed it gently into Matsuri's hand. 

“Alright then,” she acknowledged. She was exhausted, She may have been unconscious for days, but that was a testing struggle in a very real way. Now she needed her rest. 

As Masturi slowly began to lie down, Gaara returned to his original spot on the other side of the fire, always ready, never sleeping. As she rested her head, she realized for the first time that she was lying on a bed of sand. She fidgeted with the object in her hands at last taking a good look at what Gaara had given her. 

She smiled before closing her eyes, the weight of her ordeal pulling her into a more natural sleep than the one she had endured for the previous 4 days, as she clutched the orange in her hand, whatever part of her consciousness was left, was looking forward to eating it in the morning. 

Chapter Text

Omoi was going to live, there wasn’t much question about that. He’d taken a strike in his side from a panther’s claws the night before. Well a strike was an overstatement, the panther had barely grazed him. But that didn’t stop Karui’s longtime teammate from being a giant cry baby about the whole thing. 

“What if it gets infected, what if I bleed to death, what if their claws are poisonous,” the boy moaned anxiously. 

“Have you ever heard of poisonous cats, you idiot,” Karui responded as ‘tenderly’ as she could. Considering she had spent yet another night without sleep fighting off a horde of vicious wild animals in this forest, Omoi was lucky she wasn’t more frustrated with his normal end of the world antics. Besides, there was nothing for him to really worry about. She had wrapped his injury herself, and while she wasn’t a medic, she knew basic enough first aid to make sure it wouldn’t get infected.

“But what if they’re supernatural beasts and because they scratched me, I’ll now transform into a panther every night?”

“In the names of all the Gods in the ocean, won’t you please shut the fuck up.”

Karui turned her head and glared towards their orange haired ally for making the remark. They’d been with Seiren since the Games began, and in all that time Karui couldn’t say she found a single aspect of the girl who claimed to be a pirate endearing. By the glare she sent back to Karui, the feeling was probably mutual. More than a dozen times in the last few days Karui wanted to just take Omoi and leave Seiren behind or even straight up run her sword through the Funato kunoichi during some of their more aggressive shouting matches. 

But every time those feelings emerged she controlled herself. Betraying or much worse killing an ally was a taboo in the Games. Treachery was common in the shinobi world, but civilian clients and sponsors had lighter stomachs. Appearances mattered to them. She might be able to get away with it in the final stages of the Games, when all alliances were expected to break down (there could be only one winner after all), but when more than half of the Candidates in the Games remained, leaving Seiren behind wasn’t a socially acceptable option. 

It wasn’t a strategically sound one either. As much as Karui hated to admit it, the three of them formed a fairly effective team. Of course she and Omoi did, as annoying as he was they would always have each other’s backs, but Seiren’s skill with the bow and arrow played a major role in keeping them all alive every night despite the constant panther attacks. None of them had been injured once, a testament to their collective skill and surprisingly good teamwork. 

Well none of them had been injured till last night, as Karui turned back to look at downcasted Omoi who was now mumbling to himself, her eyes focused on his bandages. 

It was a light injury, yes but it was undeniable that he was moving slower last night than he had before. She was moving slower. Seiren was moving slower, and she was running low on arrows. The Kiri candidate had done her best to recover as many arrows as she could, but some were gone, stuck in the hide of panthers that had retreated at the break of dawn, and some were simply damaged too thoroughly beyond repair by the creatures’ unnaturally corrosive blood. 

With no food in the arena, sponsor money, even when pooled between two great nations, had to be rationed, and Seiren never received as many arrows as she wanted. 

They were all putting up a good front, but they were exhausted. Yesterday Omoi received just a scratch, but tonight could be the night one of them was finally gored or torn to the pieces by the relentless predators. 

Something needed to change, Karui just couldn’t figure out what.

“What if-“

“OMOI YOU’RE FINE.”

“And you’re sure she can pull this off,” the normally quiet Ajisai asked Sai skeptically.

“Probably,” he replied with a slightly more convincing yet still obviously fake smile. Kakashi had helped him practice the smile in the weeks leading up to the Games, but there was only so much that could be accomplished in such a short time. 

“Probably?”

“Probably.”

Ajisai stared at him, her own face a mask, before sighing and walking over to where Shigure was helping Yakumo get set up. For some reason it seemed she didn’t find his reassurances convincing. Sai would have to work on that skill too. 

Though Ajisai had been the most skeptical of the group when he told them his plan just before nightfall. Shigure had been excited by the prospect, though perhaps not fully understanding the true scale and Yakumo…

“If you think I can do it, I’ll try.”

…had faith in him if not herself. That trust, carefully honed over the previous five days, was proving to be a valuable tool. Emotions were something that had largely been drilled out of him at ROOT, but clearly knowing how to manipulate them in other people would be a very useful skill to master. The overall concept was a little difficult to grasp, but he was sure he was on the right path. 

Shigure dropped a large stone onto the ground, “Will that work,” he asked, trying to pretend that the task hadn’t been physically exerting. He almost managed to mask his deep breaths. Almost. 

Yakumo inspected the rock carefully, before at last sitting down upon it. “I-it-it’ll work,” she said, shivering. 

She was clearly freezing. The rest of them, including Sai, were better at hiding it, but the truth was they were all freezing. Even if they had heavy coats, which ultimately were probably an expense their mentors had decided wasn’t worth the sponsor money, the winds at the top of the mountain would’ve been bone chilling. It was fine they would only have to be up here a few hours. Then the Games would be over. 

From here Sai could see almost the entire arena. The suppressed artist within him would’ve had his breath taken away from the site, the endless green, a series of rivers and a few lakes, perfectly visible without a cloud in the sky.  But that part of Sai was well and truly buried. Though considering the subtle urge he had to just take out his scroll and start drawing the scenery, maybe there was still a little bit of that part of his psyche left. 

It had taken them a few hours to reach the flat, yet rock filled top of the mountain. They’d flown most of the way through the forest below to conserve what little energy they did have, barely flying above the tops of the trees in an effort to avoid detection. Fighting other Candidates wasn’t a setback they could afford today. But 4 people were too many for his ink hawk to carry the higher altitudes of the mountain and the complexities of the hawk compared to his other creations meant he could only summon 1 at a time. So they had to hike to the peak on foot, with Sai carrying Yakumo on his back for most of the journey. 

Scaling the mountain would’ve been almost impossible without chakra, even more so while carrying Yakumo. The steep inclines and ice covered surfaces, and crumbly rock walls seemed almost purposely designed to send someone crashing to their deaths. Considering they were in the arena, they probably were purposely designed for that. Even for ninja, it was a fairly exhausting climb, if they weren’t in the middle of a life or death competition, he might have even called it good training.  

Yakumo had been quiet nearly the entire journey, outside of a few anxious mumbles, barely whispered thoughts that snuck out of her mind into the real word, spoken so lowly he couldn’t make them out, even though she was riding on his back.  The general silence was something Sai was largely grateful for. The less distractions the better. 

Despite the perilous climb, the four of them had made their way to the peak without too much drama. Shigure had slipped and almost fallen off of a cliff about two thirds of the way through their climb, but he had managed to catch himself before going over the edge. 

A shame honestly. Yes, the boy from Ame had been a useful ally throughout all the nights of panther attacks, and it was doubtful Sai would’ve been able to protect Yakumo by himself if they had ran into another Candidate on the way to the top of the mountain, but if everything went according to plan then there wouldn’t be a need for this alliance much longer. A quick fall now would’ve erased the need for the inevitable confrontation that would come once everyone else was dead. 

Sai eyes glanced over towards the boy and Ajisai who were now conversing with Yakumo as she laid out her brushes and paint. He’d seen them both fight, if it came down to it there was little doubt in Sai’s mind that he could take out Shigure. The Ame boy was big and strong, but Sai was much faster and far more skilled in close quarter combat. As long as he prevented his opponent from gaining distance, there was little doubt in the ROOT operative’s mind that he would be victorious when the time came. 

Still, Shigure's survival wasn’t the worst thing. Sai may still need his and Ajisai’s help to hunt down any potential survivors from what was about to come, especially if Gaara or Fu made it through the day. Ideally all the other Candidates would be dead within the next few hours, but Sai had already seen that very few things were ideal in the Arena, and from what he’d read, jinchuriki were particularly durable if nothing else. 

“Um, Sai, I’m ready,” Yakumo’s nervous voice called out from where she was sitting.

The girl had changed so much in the last 5 days, the assertive Clan Heir justifiably confident in her own overwhelming power had gradually been worn down by the lack of sleep, food, and nightly attacks. Had they tried this on the very first day of the Games, she’d likely have done it without any qualms. Perhaps it would have been better to do this at the beginning, It was his fault for not thinking of this sooner, despite the reports he’d read, he hadn’t truly comprehended the scale of her power until he had seen it in action. 

Confident or not, Yakumo would do what needed to be done, that was the important thing. He nodded and walked over to inspect her set up. All her brushes and paints were out, arranged in order by size and color. This would likely wipe out her remaining supply, but it would be worth it. The rock she was sitting on was perfectly positioned in the middle of the mountaintop, from there she could easily turn and observe almost any part of the arena. Only one thing was missing now. 

Sai nodded toward Shigure, the loud boy’s voice cutting through the hard winds of the mountain top just loud enough for the broadcasted recordings to pick up. 

“WE’RE READY,” the Ame Genin shouted. 

Sai had spoken aloud this particular sponsor request back when he first explained his plan to both the group and the entire world in the forest just before the sun set last night. It would be better to have the gifts delivered once they reached the top, no need to be weighed down by bulky extra supplies during the arduous climb. 

Sai didn’t know it but the items in question couldn’t have been delivered until about an hour ago anyways. They weren’t exactly things that could be found in the normal sponsorship catalog, and a certain bleary eyed silver haired mentor had spent most of the night negotiating the price point for the gifts with General Mifune, before at last arriving at a compromise number at a little bit before 4 in the morning. Even then they weren’t something the gamemakers had in their stockpiles, and one unfortunate samurai had spent his entire morning being yelled at by an elderly local artisan for forcing them to open their store so early in order to buy the required supplies. 

There! In the distance four eagles appeared over the horizon. They lacked their normal majesty, as they struggled to fly evenly while carrying their rather large loads. It would have been a comical sight if observed by almost anyone else. But after a minute or two of watching this rollercoaster flightpath, the eagles at last reached the mountain top, deposited their unwieldy packages and left with something that could almost be akin to relief.

It took Sai and Ajisai a few minutes to carefully unwrap the four large canvases. Perhaps they could’ve done it faster, especially if Shigure had helped, but it was better to be slow and methodical to avoid tearing the handcrafted paper, and those were two character traits the male Ame Candidate sorely lacked. 

They lacked easels, but Sai had been no stranger to creating his own, using his own ink, scroll and jutsu to draw the stands. Easels weren’t standard mission equipment, and he would often find himself painting the surrounding scenery while resting between missions. It was a bit of frivolous use of a jutsu designed for assassination, one that surely that had gotten him reprimanded by ROOT’s officers when he was caught. Sai’s desire to paint was the one flaw in himself that had been probably the most difficult to overcome. Now he only did it as a useful training method for honing his technique, nothing more nothing less. At least that’s how he rationalized it to himself. 

Besides, ink easels were better. They could hold onto the canvases and stick to the ground in a way simple wood couldn’t. No, none of Sai’s easels would be blown away or jostled by the wind. They’d remain firmly implanted in the ground, allowing Yakumo to paint without distraction. 

Soon four canvases, resting atop four ink easels, faced Yakumo from every cardinal direction. The girl took a deep breath, and for a brief moment Sai feared she would do nothing, before she picked up her favorite brush and began to paint. 

Minutes quickly turned into hours atop that mountain as Sai watched Yakumo paint. Shigure and Ajijasi both quickly grew bored with the process, conversing quietly as they ate rations. They saw Yakumo’s powers in action over the past several days, but deep down they didn’t think this would work. The scale of it was just too big.

But Sai didn’t think of the scale, or the plan or the Games, no he just watched the canvases as gradually each one, little by little, resembled the landscape more and more. The frail Yakumo painted with an uncharacteristic ferocity, painting with an aggressive speed. Perfectly capturing the landscape for just one painting was a task that should’ve taken several hours, if not days. 

Yet as her canvases became colored with dark forest greens,striking blues and just the right amounts of browns, greys, yellows and reds, she managed to recreate her surroundings within a little over three hours.  

Despite her aggressiveness, her paintings were serene, a peaceful telling of nature. One would never know just by looking at them that the arena they depicted was in truth a brutal battlefield. As she put the final touches on the southern facing canvas, it grew even harder to breath the already light air of the high altitude mountain top. The bone chilling winds grew fiercer and soon the bright sunny day was replaced with angry dark clouds forming all over the Arena as Yakumo painted a storm stretching for miles into existence. 

Ajisai and Shigure stood to the attention they themselves now fully focused on Yakumo’s work. They didn’t doubt her now. How could they when they could feel the chakara in the air, when it felt so dense that they could trick themselves into thinking they could smell it. 

Now they finally understood what Sai and Kakashi had themselves only fully grasped on the first night of the Games. Yakumo wasn’t a ninja. She was a natural disaster waiting to be unleashed on the Arena, and soon everyone in the world would know it too.  

“We should find cover,” Karui stated as she stared at the storm clouds. She had lived in the Land of Lightning her entire life and she’d never seen clouds quite like this. 

“Hold on a second.” Ugh, Karui could not deal with Seiren right now, but the girl representing Kiri continued despite Karui’s internal mental objections. “I’m a pirate, you’re Kumo shinobi, nobody here should be able to make their way through a storm as well as us. My justu is basically built for navigating through a storm. It’s the perfect chance to move through the arena undetected and ambush some idiots cowering from the rain.”

“Or it’s the perfect opportunity to get trapped in whatever mess the gamemakers are planning. That,” Karui said pointing to the sky, “is not a natural storm.”

“Not even the gamemakers could create an entire storm from scratch,” Sieren dismissed. “A jutsu capable of pulling that off is way out of their league, if it even exists at all.”

“Look I’m team leader and I say we find shelter,” Karui said as assertively as she could. 

“Who said you were team leader,” a now scowling Seiren was holding her bow in her hands.

“I did.” her hand was resting on her sword’s pommel, ready to unsheathe it at a moment’s notice. 

The kunoichi and the pirate glared at each other, neither backing down as they all but dared their ‘ally’ to make the first move. Thankfully someone else did.

“Ladies, ladies, let’s calm down, we're all on the same team here” Omoi said, doing his best impression of a peacemaker as he stepped in between the two. If he had been a little smarter maybe he would’ve chosen a better set of words than calm down. This really wasn’t his forte, Samui had always been the one who would mediate fights on their team, not him. Still at least Karui and Seiren were glaring at him now instead of each other. That was something, right?

“Why don’t we just take a vote,” he continued. 

“A vote?” Seiren replied derisively. “You’ll just agree with whatever she says.”

“Hey I almost never do what Karui says. That’s the cause of like half of my problems.”

Karui snorted. That idiot always seemed to make her laugh. Eventually. Usually after saying or doing some mind numbing stupid shit, but he always had good intentions. He was right in this case, they wouldn’t accomplish anything by fighting. She took her hand off her sword. 

“Look Seiren, why don’t w..”

Karui was knocked off her feet before she even realized what had happened, crashing into the ground, her ears ringing, as she struggled to recapture her breath. The ringing in her ears only got worse, thanks to a large booming sound that even in her state she could tell was louder than any roar of thunder she had ever heard before, louder than even the roars of the panthers. 

She struggled to her feet, her instincts kicking in, making her way in drunken manor over the closest cover she could find. Most of the trees around her had fallen, the explosive force of the attack ripping them from the ground, but there were 2 or 3 still standing. She didn’t know who or what had attacked them, but staying still was a death sentence, Master B had taught her that. She stumbled as she walked, barely making it towards the closest tree. Where was Omoi? Where was Seiren?

She’d find them, they’d be fine, they had to be. If she had survived then they should have too. They would’ve surely run for cover as well, at least she was sure Omoi would have, they had the same training after all. But where did that attack come from? Anyone who managed to catch all three of them off guard had to be incredibly skilled, but why hadn’t they followed up with another attack? If they were lucky, maybe that strike had depleted all of the enemy's chakra, but Karui was never that lucky. 

Among the fallen trees she could see a fire starting to form. So a fire style jutsu? No, even now she could feel every hair on her body stand up. It had to have been a lightning jutsu, a powerful one, but that didn’t answer the question of where it came…

Kauri’s eyes widened in realization as she looked towards the sky, towards the cloud that looked even more unnatural than they did before. Those clouds were the last thing she saw before she was blinded by a white flash. 

All she could see was white, but she could once again feel her feet leave the ground, and for a moment felt as if she was suspended in the air, a weird yet familiar tingling sensation coursing through body, before she fell back down to the ground. 

The flash was gone but even though her eyes were open she couldn't make out anything, everything just seemed so blurry, unrecognizable blobs and shapes invaded her eyesight. She was lying on the ground, but she felt no pain, no she couldn’t even feel the ground beneath her body, even though on some conscious level she knew it was there. 

The ringing in her ears had stopped, but she could barely hear anything at all. Someone was shouting, but she couldn’t make out any of the words they were saying. Was that Omoi? What was that idiot going on about now? Probably making up problems that didn’t exist again. What was she going to do with him?

Kauri couldn’t hear Omoi anymore. The shapes in her vision grew blurrier and blurrier until all she could see was darkness. It was cold she thought, and then she thought of nothing at all. 

“KARUI, KARUI,” Omoi shouted. He was digging as fast as he could with his bare hands, into the very ground where she had sunk into just moments before. It must have been an earth jutsu, another enemy attack, he would save her, he had to. . 

“The fires are spreading, we have to go,” Seiren shouted behind him, barely making herself heard over what felt like an endless parade of thunder. The very same thunder that had drowned out the sound of a gong. He could feel her pulling on his shoulder, but nothing was going to make him move from that spot.

He just continued to dig, doing his best to ignore the thunder and Seiren’s screams. He was going to rescue Karui, they were going to get to shelter, and she was going to call him an idiot, and everything would be fine. Everything would be fine. 

Omoi didn’t see Seiren move in front of him, and he didn’t notice her boot until it made contact with his face; her kick knocked  him on his back. He barely reacted as she continued to scream words at him that didn’t make sense. He said nothing as she pulled him to his feet, and even as she dragged him out of the clearing, his eyes remained fixed to the sport where Karui had sunk into the Earth, until all he could see was smoke and trees on fire.

There was no rain. 

It was a bit of a random thought as Sai looked upon the Arena, upon the storm Yakumo had unleashed. There was no rain, at least not in the sense that there was any water coming down from the heavens to the Earth. Ajisai and Shigure could only watch stunned, as lightning bolt after lightning bolt rained down on the forest and the ground, each one far larger than any bolt any of them had ever seen before. 

As the Ame genin remained transfixed, Sai’s attention turned to the artist of this tapestry. Yakumo would slash at each canvas as if her brush was a knife, each stroke cutting through the landscape she had so carefully crafted. To an untrained eye it might seem violent, primal, random, but for an artist like Sai even now he could see the pattern in work. A grid of lightning and devastation, a swirl of colors and lines almost guaranteed to cause the most amount of death possible. 

The girl herself was straining, the jutsu if this power could even be viewed in the same realm of the abilities of a normal ninja. He could see the sweat moving down her brow, the slight temple in her arm as she moved the brush, yet each of her strikes was perfect, moving naturally down the canvases. 

She wasn’t much of a ninja, but there was no doubt in Sai’s mind that Yakumo was a true artist. For the first time since he had met her, he could feel a professional respect developing for his village partner, one that he had only ever had for his fellow ROOT operatives. 

Sai looked back towards the Arena, large fire were beginning to form in every direction, and still Yakumo’s bombardment continued. The sounds of thunder were far too loud for the ring of the gong to cut through, but he could only imagine what it was like on the ground, the struggle for survival against a wave of destruction that could not be countered. 

Still, the Arena was vast, even larger than Sai had anticipated. There were so many places to shelter  and so many to strike. Even after 15 minutes, Sai estimated that only a third of Yakumo’s grid was complete. The longer she painted the slower she moved. It would take time to truly strike every single target in the Arena, even with how large and powerful each lightning bolt was. 

That was alright, Sai was patient. While he preferred to accomplish his missions in an expedient manner, as an artist himself, he had learned that sometimes a job needed to be done slowly in order to be done right. 

And Yakumo wouldn’t stop until the job was done, even if it would kill her. That much he was sure of. She had too much to prove. A ninja who couldn’t do ninjutsu or taijutsu, a dream that should’ve been impossible, no a shinobi like that could never exist. A shinobi like that would never be able to complete their missions. 

Yet here she was proving to the continent that not only was her power real, but that it was unlike any other in this world. A power with the potential to bring down an entire nation. A power with the potential to bring down Konoha. 

Lord Danzo was right to have sent her here. This was not a power they could control, but here she could serve her ultimate purpose, serve the village, lead him to victory and guarantee Konoha’s place on top of the world order for decades to come. 

“This is the power of a god,” Ajisai muttered, barely loud enough for Sai to hear. 

Good. That was the exact reaction Sai was hoping for. Ajisai was easily the most competent and intelligent member of their group (after Sai himself of course). If her rational mind was overwhelmed by this display, only imagine how the rest of the world was reacting.  Who would dare challenge them ever again?

He looked back towards Yakumo one more time. Her power was incredible, but she wasn’t a god, just a child, not even a real ninja. An extremely dangerous girl but just a girl nonetheless. Oh she was an artist, a talented one at that, but at the end of the day she was just flesh and bone like the rest of them. 

As he gazed upon her, Sai had this thought just in time to see the head of a crossbow bolt sprout from Yakumo’s chest. 

In an instant, the lightning and sounds of thunder came to a halt, the only sounds atop the mountain were the blood filled chokes and sputter coming from Yakumo as she swayed, before sliding off the rock she was sitting on, falling to the ground. 

Sai had been too distracted by the lightning, thunder and Yakumo, to be adequately aware of his surroundings, a costly unforgivable mistake, one he hadn’t thought he was capable of. But now his instincts took over, as he quickly whipped out his scroll, immediately summoning two super beasts from his scroll, his eyes darling across the mountain top searching for the enemy, but he couldn’t see the shooter.

What he did see was a second cross bolt, inexplicably coming towards him from above, he was ready for this quickley ducking and moving towards the side his eyes now moving upwards darting towards the clouds as he searched the skies for his opponent. 

“Arrrrgh” Shigure grunted in pain from behind him, the very same crossbolt Sai had ‘dodged’ was now sticking out of his shoulder. No Sai hadn’t been the shooter’s target, but he paid no attention to his injured ally, even as the injured boy stumbled backwards in pain, far too close to the mountain’s edge. 

Sai never looked now summoning one of his ink hawks and taking to the air towards what was a clearly visible purple figure in the sky, He didn’t turn around when the dazed Shigure lost his footing on the cold icy surface of the mountain, he didn’t turn around when the boy went over the edge nor did Sai acknowledge Ajisai’s screams for him to turn around and catch her village partner. 

Even as the sound of the gong rang out through the Arena, Sai only had eyes for the floating boy in the sky, who was attempting to quickly reload his crossbow, held a loft in the air by what now appeared to be wings made of purple chakra. The boy was fast, but Sai’s brush work was faster getting into range and drawing a snake just before the boy could finish reloading. 

Sai launched his snake through the air, as it drove towards his enemy fangs barred. But the boy was quick, elegant in the air diving to the side to avoid the strike just as he finished reloading, shooting another crossbow bolt in an attempt to knock Sai off of his hawk, but just as elegantly as the boy, Sai’s hawk dove downwards allowing the crossbow bolt to sail over his head.  

After that brief flurry of action the two young shinobi settled in the sky apart from each other, glaring at their respective opponent from a distance. With the moment of respite, Sai was at last able to recognize his enemy as the male Candidate from Hoshigakure. He had memorized every detail he had access to about every Candidate in the days leading up to the Games. 

Sumaru Shigematsu of Hoshi, 170 CM tall, son of Natsuhi Shigemtasu, Victor of the 48th Genin Games. The boy had been deemed a credible threat due to both his lineage and high score in training. The purple chakra wings, which seemed to resemble those of a butterfly, confirmed the reports that Hoshi had resumed their controversial practice of star training, a method with unique effects on chakra at the cost of a shinobi’s long term physical health. An impressive justu, but one that Sai doubted a mere genin could maintain for long. Sai’s own ink creations cost chakra to maintain, but he had almost perfect control and he would be able to sustain them for long periods of time. He had the advantage in this fight he was sure of that. 

But there was a dull pain in his chest. It was distracting, demanding most of his focus. It was a pain he had never felt before, in one of his most vital areas but even now he recognized that he was uninjured. Neither of Sumaru's attacks had landed, and yet the pain persisted. 

Even more distracting than the pain was Sai’s desire. More than anything, he could ever recall wanting in his life, Sai longed to drive his tanto through Sumaru’s chest. He was no stranger to killing, he was an assassin trained from birth, but for some reason Sumaru was different from any other target he had before. He wanted to kill him. He wanted this boy dead, and he would not be satiated until he was. 

Sumaru shouted something, but Sai couldn’t hear him. His ears were roaring, he hadn’t realized that before. If he had a mirror or a picture of himself, he would’ve seen hints of red in his normally pale visage. None of those things truly mattered, no killing Sumaru was the only thing he truly cared about. 

Sumaru continued to speak, but Sai ignored him, unsheathing his tanto and flying straight towards his opponent, blade raised. Sumaru was taken off guard by his monologue being prematurely interrupted, but to his credit quickly recovered and dove back towards the mountain dodging the sudden charge. Sai quickly changed direction and followed suit. 

Over the next several minutes, this exchange would repeat itself again. Sai’s hawk was faster, but Sumaru had a far easier time maneuvering through the air and changing direction. Twice Sai would get close enough to slash at his enemy but both times, Sumaru would just barely dodged escaping unscathed. Up close in these encounters, Sai could see the bags under the boy’s eye, the thinness in his face, lips chapped by spending day in the freezing cold, near the top of the mountain. He had likely spent the entire Games on the mountain. Did the chakra from Yakumo’s jutsu draw him to the very top of the mountain, or had he been waiting and observing the entire time for the perfect moment to launch his ambush? 

Either way, it was clear he hadn’t had much to eat these last few days. He wouldn’t have the energy  to keep up this pace much longer.

Again and again, Sumaru would attempt to create distance, perhaps in an effort to craft a jutsu or reload his crossbow, but Sai would not allow him that time or space, continuing to chase and slash at every opportunity he could get. In theory it was an effective strategy on his part, giving his opponent no time to collect his bearings. 

In reality there was no strategy nor plan on Sai’s part. Each movement, each slash was sloppy, lacking his normal refined technique. If he had stopped to think, perhaps he could have utilized his scroll, drawn a small flock of birds to corral the Hoshi boy, force him into a trap with no space to dodge, but such thoughts never entered Sai’s mind. 

He was reckless, if his opponent had been in better shape, less tired, on top of his game, Sumaru would have surely been able to counter and knock Sai off his hawk sending him into freefall towards the ground below. But Sumaru didn't have that energy and he knew better than anyone that these exchanges were unsustainable. Even now he could feel his chakra begin to falter. 

So he deactivated his wings. 

A shinobi deactivating the only thing that could prevent them from plummeting towards what would surely be a gruesome end on the ground was irrational. Which was exactly why the action was enough to take Sai off guard forcing him to hesitate for several crucial seconds.  

For plummet was exactly what Sumaru did, falling straight down far faster than he could fly on his own. But it was a controlled dive and once he finally had the distance he had been looking for the entire fight, he made use of it, reactivating his wings and putting on a sudden burst of speed. Not towards Sai, but away from the mountain towards the large clouds of smoke from the growing forest fires Yakumo’s lightning had caused. 

That moment’s hesitation was enough for Sai to somewhat return to his senses. Slowly he could feel the pain in his chest fade, his desires wane. He was a ROOT shinobi, the epitome of everything a ninja should be with no purpose other than to fulfill his mission. He remembered the last words Lord Danzo had spoken to him, the task that had been left to him that was almost as important as victory. 

He wasn’t going to catch up to Sumaru, not before he reached the smoke. It would be the perfect cover. Finding him in the forest fires raging below would be a difficult time consuming affair, and killing Sumaru wasn’t his mission. The mission came first. Lord Danzo’s will came first. 

His tongue was burning, but Sai barely noticed. It was a brief moment, one gone and forgotten just as quickly as it was there. He thought nothing of it as any semblance of emotions he had were firmly, and thoroughly suppressed. Just like that, he was back to being the perfect weapon, the professional he was always supposed to be. As far as he was concerned, he was back in control of his own actions. So instead of chasing after Sumaru through a mess of smoke and fire, he flew back towards the mountain top.

It seemed Sai wasn’t as far along in his development as he thought. How disappointing. Well it didn’t matter, the boy would be dead in a few days anyways. He had genuinely planned to have the boy win the Games, having the victor that won the village the Ichibi under his control would’ve been a very useful card to have in his back pocket, but the situation had changed. Winning the games was no longer an advantageous outcome. 

He was no stranger to changing his plans, a good shinobi knew how to adapt to the shifting winds of the world, but it was a shame nonetheless to lose a tool with as much potential as Sai, but there would always need to be sacrifices made for the good of the village. He had briefly considered allowing the boy to continue to run recklessly, his demise would surely have come quicker that way, but no Sai needed to live at least a little longer. Better to reign in the boy’s emotions, until he serves his purpose. 

Ajisai was kneeling at Yakumo’s side when Sai landed on the mountain top. She attempted to tend to the wounded girl's injury, but even from here he could tell it was largely performative medicine. The crossbow bolt would have pierced a lung, neither of them had the medical skills or the resources necessary to heal such an injury. Ajisai couldn’t save Yakumo’s life, but tending to a wounded ally’s injury would make Ame look good in the eyes of the world, especially after Sai had done nothing to save Shigure. 

That last fact didn’t seem to win him any points with Ajisai who glared at him as he walked over to two girls. It was understandable. She would’ve been well within her rights to have abandoned them and taken all of their remaining supplies with her for that, but she had stayed. Her partner was dead and she didn’t have the strength to win these Games by herself. So survival had won out over anger, Sai always knew she was the smart one among the Ame duo.

“Fuck you.” she muttered, loud enough only for Sai to hear as he leaned over Yakumo. Smart but angry. 

“S-S-Sai.” Yakumo struggled to utter coughing up some blood in the process.

He only said nothing as she stared up towards him, eyes filled with fear. Sai didn’t understand emotions very well, but he knew what fear looked like, he’d seen it in every single one of his targets before they died. 

She reached trying to clasp his hand desperate for some form of comfort from the only person in the Arena she thought she knew. They’d fought together, eaten together, endured the antics of their mentor and his Genin together. She continued to look in his eyes as she failed to form words. He stared back down into her orange eyes and gave her one final fake smile as he drove his tanto straight into her temple. 

Ajisai screamed in shock, but Sai ignored her cries, twisting the blade, attempting to do as much damage as possible to that incredible brain before a flash of light consumed Yakumo and she sunk into the ground. The sound of the gong rang throughout the arena. 

He stood up not bothering to wipe off the blood or grey matter off his knife. Who knew what secret laid in Yakumo’s brain, a brain that had the potential to burn the world. Better to destroy it than to the risk it falling into the hands of the Victor’s village. He still fully believed he would win, but he wasn’t binded by his skill to think that victory was assured. Better to avoid the risk, just as Lord Danzo had said.

“What the Helll did you just do, you fucking sociopath,” Ajisai screamed at him, all of the girl’s disipline and sense of rationality gone after witnessing such a disturbing act of violence, even by the standards of a shinobi. “She was your fucking partner!”

Ajisai would’ve continued screaming, or if she hadn’t been so thrown off balance from what she’d seen she might have had the good sense to run, but she was too close to Sai, and too stunned to react before he buried his blade straight into her chest. 

Her eyes widened, but beyond that Ajisai had no time to react to her own death. It was a precise strike, straight through the heart and a quick death, one Sai had plenty of experience dealing. She did not suffer, as within just seconds her body was consumed by bright white light, and the gong sounded throughout the arena for the final time that day. 

A mere hour ago the four of them stood together on the mountain top, now Sai stood there alone. A more sentimental person may have looked back on the five days the group had spent together, but shinobi had no room for sentimentality. Instead Sai wiped the blood and grey matter off of his blade before making his way over to the former alliance’s supplies. 

They had enough rations from the last sponsor delivery to last the four of them 2 more days. It should easily last him more than a week, maybe ten days if he really stretched it. He might have to, he doubted he would get anymore sponsor gifts after what had just happened, but odds were the Games would be over by then anyways.

Losing sponsor support was certainly a drawback, but killing Ajisai was necessary. She had her uses on a 4 man team absolutely, but down to two of them she could only slow him down. Without Yakumo’s abilities or even Shigure’s strength to support them, her powers wouldn’t be much use against a jinchuriki. No, it might not have been the original plan, but Sai would be more effective operating alone from this point on. 

So for the next few hours he sat on the mountain eating rations, resting and recovering his strength as he watched the fires continue to spread. They showed no signs of stopping anytime soon, a blaze like this would last for days, maybe weeks without intervention, continuing to consume more and more of the arena. 

Sai’s plan had failed, but he was a shinobi and he had adapted. Yakumo had been removed far too early in her attack. Most of the other Candidates would have surely survived, but hopefully these fires would remove a few more in the next few days. He would rest a little longer, before heading after Sumaru. Finding a trail would be difficult, but allowing a Candidate from such a minor village to kill one from a Great Nation was an affront that had to be answered to preserve Konoha’s image of strength. At least that was the justification he gave himself, the pain in his chest returning far sharper than before. 

“Sir you’re not allowed in another village’s suite.”

“I just need to talk to her.”

“Sir, return to the elevator or you will be escorted back to your apartments.”

Kakashi Hatake really shouldn’t be here. If he was a good mentor he’d be tracking down all of his sponsors right now in a desperate, surely futile bid to prevent them from pulling their money. But he was not a good mentor, that much had been made clear tonight. 

If he was a good sensei he’d be back in Konoha’s suite helping Sasuke, Naruto and Sakura process what they saw today. Sakura would likely be crying, she and Yakumo had grown quite close in the build up to the Games. Naruto would be shouting, crying, calling Sai a bastard and demanding answers about why he did what he did. Answers Kakashi would have to give, answers that would never satisfy the boy. Sasuke would pretend that Sai killing Yakumo didn’t bother him, that she was dying anyways, but he’d be lying both to himself and the rest of the team. Kakashi should be there, comforting them, offering hard won and often cruel wisdom to help them get past this. But as far as he was concerned, he was not a good sensei.

If he was a good comrade Yakumo would still be alive. So would Obito, Rin, Ayama, and Minato. Rationally he knew she was always going to die, that nothing he could have done would’ve prevented that outcome. This was always going to be the ultimate result, he’d seen this coming, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. 

There were so many other places Kakashi should be, but here, staring down 20 armored samurai in the hallway leading to Ame’s suite. They could justifiably imprison him just for getting this close to another village’s quarters, but part of his mind couldn’t help but think he could take them. Though that might have just been the bottle and a half of sake talking. 

“Sir please leave, this is your final warning.”

Kakashi’s hand twitched ever so slightly, but at last common sense won out over sake infused guilt. He slumped his head, turned around and made his way over towards the elevator. He could hear the heavy steps of the samurai following him, but he didn’t bother to turn around.  

He didn’t really know what he was going to say to her anyways. One of Konoha’s greatest geniuses’ couldn’t come up with the simple words necessary for an...apology? An explanation? Something else entirely? There were plenty of shinobi out there who would argue he didn’t owe Konan anything. Sai killed Ajisai, not him, and one of them was always going to end up dying anyway. Yes it was a bad look, one that would cost them their sponsors, probably some clients too, and make finding allies in the next few Games very difficult. Still Kakashi had done nothing wrong and even if he had, apologizing for it would likely be viewed as a much greater sin by his own superiors. 

He’d probably never see her again, unless it was on the battlefield. Oh they’d both be in the audience for the final festivities of the Games, Kakashi himself may even be up on stage if Sai ended up winning, but the Samurai would never let them interact or talk. 

The last words Konan had spoken to him, right as the samurai escorted her out of the mentor's room, would almost certainly be the final personal conversation they ever shared. Those words had echoed in his mind for the last several hours. After Sai’s actions, all the bullshit and memories this mission had brought up, those words were the final tipping point that drove Kakashi to the bottle. 

“I shouldn’t have expected anything less from a Candidate mentored by the great teammate killer Kakashi Hatake.”

Drunk, he somehow managed to make his way into Konoha’s suite, ignored the angered shouts and arguments coming from the Genin’s room (well technically it was his room, but he hadn’t exactly been using it this week) and collapsed on the sofa in the center of the living room. 

He was tired. Too tired to put a genjutsu on himself, a genjutsu that would have brought him a quick dreamless sleep. So when Kakashi Hatake finally fell unconscious, sleeping for more hours in that night alone than he had since he had gotten in all the nights since they had arrived in the Land of Iron, there was nothing to protect his subconscious from all the memories he had been working so diligently to suppress. 

Chapter Text

Kakashi was 5 when he graduated from the academy. A genius they called him, the future of the village, the son of a great hero with the potential to surpass his father. The teachers would tell every student that they could become Hokage, but when they said it to him he could tell they actually meant it. He was the top of his class despite studying with students twice his age. 

Dad smiled at him when he came home, in that way that only Sakumo did. Dad ruffled the hair on his head and told Kakashi how proud he was of him. Just like his teachers, Kakashi could tell his father meant it. He never knew his mother, he knew he had her eyes but that was about it. He knew he should’ve felt her absence, that’s what everyone told him at least, but he had Dad and that was enough.

Kakashi didn’t need more than that. It would’ve been enough. Sakumo would’ve been enough. 

Kakashi was 6 when his father failed his mission and was labeled a disgrace. He was 6 when everyone in the village demonized the man he worshiped, the man they themselves once worshipped as the White Fang. Everywhere they went, he heard the harsh whispers spoken loud enough for him to tell that he and Dad were supposed to hear them. 

War was coming and it was all Sakumo’s fault. If he had just completed the mission then the village would be safe. But no, the great White Fang had failed his nation to save his comrades, and now so many more were going to die. Even the men his father saved whispered those words, perhaps that’s what hurt Dad most of all. 

Kakashi was 6 when he came home from a simple D-Rank mission. It was pretty easy, just a little bit of dog walking, honestly it should’ve been a completely forgettable assignment under any other circumstance, yet to this day Kakashi remembered every single detail. Every step on the path, the dog park that he never once returned to again, those loud fake whispers about his father, even the exact tree where the dogs did their business. He even remembered the crinkle of the envelope that contained his meagre pay. He never did end up opening it, odds were it was still somewhere in the old family house, might be enough to buy a book but probably not more than that. 

And of course Kakashi remembered the red. He remembered Dad lying on the floor, the man’s own sword, the family blade that he had promised to pass down to Kakashi when he made chunin, in his stomach. He remembered the note on the table, the note he could never bring himself to read. He remembered standing there, unmoving for hours and hours on end until one of their kinder neighbors came by after noticing the ajar door to their house.

-

-

-

Not counting the priest, there were 5 people besides Kakashi at his father’s funeral. The Hokage was there, the Sanin were there, but beyond them the only other person was an old man Kakashi didn’t recognize. None of Kakashi’s classmates came, none of the men Dad saved were there. It was for the best, they only would’ve continued to whisper. 

It was a good thing no one else came. Dad didn’t deserve it. He broke the rules, he abandoned the mission. He was trash, worthless trash who didn’t even have the courage to face his mistakes. Shinobi followed the rules, that’s what Kakashi had been taught. What kind of weak pathetic man broke the rules? Worse what kind of man would endanger the entire village in the process? That kind of man didn’t deserve anyone at his funeral. If the Hokage hadn’t brought him along himself, Kakashi wouldn’t have been there. Dad didn’t deserve his presence, but no one could defy the Hokage 

The funeral lasted about 10 minutes, no need for extended eulogies with so few attendants. The Sanin left. Kakashi didn’t know them, oh he’d seen them maybe once or twice,  and he knew they knew Dad. They were heroes, real heroes not like Dad. He heard stories of them all, how Tsunade could heal almost any wound, how Jiraiya could summon great beasts the size of mountains, how Orochimaru had never failed a mission in his life no matter how dangerous they were. Kakashi’s eyes lingered on the grey Sannin as he left. 

Orochimaru wouldn’t have broken the rules. Even on the playground of the academy, everyone knew that he would do whatever it took to achieve success. That’s why everyone said he would be the Fourth Hokage. Even the way he walked was with purpose, no wasted energy or movements. That man was a real shinobi, a real hero, he didn’t pretend to be one like Dad did. If Orochoimaru had been on that mission instead of Dad there was no doubt in Kakashi’s mind that the village wouldn’t be in this mess right now. There wouldn’t be any whispers of war, everything would’ve gone the way it was supposed to. 

The Hokage said something to Kakashi before he left, something the boy was sure was important or comforting but Kakashi couldn’t hear it. The Hokage might have stuck around and said more, made sure the message came across, but plans had to be made, soldiers needed to be mobilized, and on top of everything the Reaping was less than a week away. There was too much going on, the Hokage had already wasted too much time in his day with the son of trash. So he was gone, off to do a million things that were infinitely more important than this. 

Kakashi was alone at his father's grave. Well, not quite alone, the old man he didn’t recognize was still there. That man spoke, but far more authoritatively and forcefully than the Hokage had. 

“Do you want to redeem your father’s failures boy,” Danzo said to Kakashi. 

Night 5

Night had fallen, yet even despite her horrible eyesight, it was bright enough for Karin to see the burning world around her. In the distance it almost seemed like a second sun was rising over the horizon. It would be some time before the fires reached their little campsite, but the smell of smoke and little snowflakes of ash had been carried by the wind.

“We should get moving soon, better to stay ahead of it along as we can,” Muku stated just a few feet away, transfixed by the site of the flames. 

Despite 5 days in the Arena, and night after night of panther attacks, he seemed as fresh and energetic as he had been on the first day of the Games. A side effect of her own abilities, which had saved the boy from certain death on at least 2 occasions.

“Alright,” Karin affirmed all the while glaring into his back. Muku didn’t notice merely nodding along to his own thoughts. 

Unlike her partner she barely had the energy to stand. Her own powers didn’t work on herself. Oh she recovered far faster than other people, a particularly nasty gash on her back from a panther’s claws she received on night 2 was little more than a fading scab at this point, but even an Uzumaki needed their rest. 

At least there weren’t any panthers tonight. Were the beasts scared by the fire? The smoke? Or were the gamemakers just giving them a reprieve as they dealt with what, even at a distance, was looking more and more like an unstoppable disaster. 

Karin could almost feel the other candidates panic, as their chakras flicked and scurried around. The Kusa pair had used her sensory abilities to stay as far away from the other Candidates as they possibly could, but she could still sense them all. Two charkaras darting back and forth in the air seemingly chasing after each other. Two more together in the thick of the worst of the flames, attempting to circle to the other side of the mountain, moving slowly far too slowly considering the circumstances. 

There would be no refuge on the other side of the mountain. One of the monsters was there, dwarfing the chakra of its companions. How could chakra so sinister exude from someone so cheerful? But even the monster and their group were moving fast and erratically, likely trying to escape the flames. The other monster was retreating up the mountain, with a much weaker chakra, one that Karin barely noticed. At times that lesser chakra felt like it would almost flicker out of existence, but it was gradually (very gradually) growing stronger by the hour. 

“10 more minutes and we move,” Muku said, bitingn down on the last ration they had managed to grab out of the Cornucopia at the beginning of the Games.

Karin nodded, keeping her thoughts to herself. None of the chakras in the arena, even the monsters, compared to that of the domed barrier that surrounded the Arena. The one that made her hair stand up straight, the closer they went to its edge. The barrier that they were already camping only a few minutes walk away from. She kept her eyes on the orange light in the distance, praying that it wouldn’t come any closer. If it did, there was nowhere left for her to run.

Kakashi had never seen the Hokage angry before. Frustrated, absolutely. Disappointed, on more than one occasion, but this was something else. Lord Third’s veins were throbbing, his eyes were burned with fire, as he shouted at the old man from the funeral. Danzo responded calmly going on about the need for a show of force to cow the other nations into submission. A reminder that even the youngest of Konoha’s children were better than any shinobi the other villages could produce

Everyone in the room appeared to be staring at the pair, but Kakashi could tell they were all looking at him out of the corner of their eyes even though they were trying to hide it. Well except for the Female Candidate, Ayama a kunoichi from the Akamichi Clan, she was looking at him with something akin to pity, maybe with a little bit of anger mixed in. 

Kakashi knew he wasn’t supposed to have volunteered, but it was too late to do anything now, he had already gone on stage for the entire village to see. He was going to the Games whether the Hokage liked it or not. Lord Third would yell until he was bluem but Kakashi would show the entire world just how strong Konoha was. He would show Konoha that he was a better shinobi than Dad could have ever hoped to have been. 

He almost jumped when he felt a hand rest on his shoulder. Even at his age, it was rare for anyone to sneak up on him, yet he hadn’t noticed the snake sannin until he had knelt down and started whispering into Kakashi’s ear. 

“That was bold little mouse. Far bolder than anything your father had ever done. Or maybe it was just stupid. I’ve seen you in action, you’re good, for your age at least. You might even be a prodigy. Don’t think that’s a compliment, the Games are a graveyard filled with dead prodigies. If you want to live you're going to have to be far more ruthless than poor old Sakumo ever was. Do you understand me?”

Kakashi paused for a moment, eyes still focused on the argument between the two most important leaders of their village, before nodding. 

Orochimaru chuckled. “Good, then maybe, just maybe I have something to work with here.”

-

-

-

“No, no, that’s all wrong. Again.”

Kakashi smiled. It was a good fake smile. At least he thought it was a good fake smile, but Orochimaru appeared unsatisfied. 

“Appearances matter little mouse, how the world sees you matters. How the enemy sees you matters. You’re a child, start acting like it.”

“I’m not a child, I’m a shinobi,” he replied far too indignantly for someone who was claiming maturity. 

Kakashi didn’t see Orochimaru’s hand move, he didn’t even realize he had been struck until he hit the ground, and heard the sound of Ayama’s gasp from across the clearing. 

“You’re a child and a shinobi,” the Sannin spat, standing over him. “Everyone in the arena is going to be bigger, stronger and faster than you. Let them see your age and your size, let them forget you're a shinobi. Let the world shower you with their gifts out of pity. Then once they’ve truly forgotten what you are, cut them down.”

He didn’t notice Ayama rush over to help him up. He ignored her words of encouragement, no Kakashi was focused on his mentor, smiling towards the Sannin one final time. 

Orochimaru's face gave no sign of approval or disapproval, as he turned around and walked back towards his tent. 

Day 6

Even on the mountain Matsuri could smell the smoke. They had already been camping at its base when the storm started. When the fires came, they had quickly headed up the mountain to escape the flames. Well not too quickly. Gaara had been reluctant to move her at all, nut not even her partner was convinced enough of his own invulnerability to think it was a good idea to stay by a forest fire. So he carried her up the mountain (well his sand carried her up the mountain), he helped her change her bandages (he wasn’t very good at that, but at least he tried) and he insisted she get plenty of rest. He might not have been the world’s greatest nurse, but he took the job extremely seriously. Honestly Nurse Gaara may have been even more intimidating than regular Gaara. 

The image of Gaara wearing a brightly colored nurse’s apron and hat flashed through Matsuri’s mind. The thought made her chuckle, a process which sent a sharp streak of pain through her chest. It still hurt to laugh, though the pain was a little duller than it had been yesterday. Progress was progress as Lo-sensei would say, but even so it took every bit of her willpower not to hunch over and fall to her knees.  

She was standing for the first time since she had woken up. Well technically for the first time since the bloodbath. Her legs were protesting the strain, even now she could feel them wobble, but Matsuri was still standing regardless, overlooking the sea of red, yellow and black blazing before her. The fire was burning for as far as she could see, if there were any parts of the forest untouched by flames then the thick clouds of smoke blocked them from her view entirely. 

She could feel Nurse Gaara’s eyes on her back, Matsuri could tell he wasn’t happy that she was standing. He’d want to tell her lie down, not to push herself too far, but her partner was restraining himself for the moment. She appreciated that, she could tell restraint wasn’t something that came easy for him. 

Honestly she wasn’t entirely sure about how she felt about their new dynamic. Every night between the Reaping and the start of the Games, she had the same dream over and over again where she was trapped in quicksand, screaming for help, but never once did anyone come. She had been convinced that he would kill her from the moment he appeared on the stage and volunteered. That wasn’t an easy fear to overcome. 

His eyes had always been so terrifying, so full of hate and anger, but there was always something else in them, something the Matsuri could never fully grasp, something that always grabbed her attention over everything else. Whatever that something was, it had grown more and more prevalent ever since she had woken up. 

Matsuri turned around, Gaara was sitting on a rock about 10 meters away, just watching her carefully. He was trying to be a good partner, she could try too. 

Forgetting the pain she was in, forgetting the fire, for a moment somehow forgetting even the death competition she had been forced into against her will, Matsuri gradually walked over to Gaara, sitting across from him on her bed of sand. 

“Do you want to play a game?” she asked nervously. 

Omoi cut through the burning branch blocking his path, desperate to forge a way forward. Everywhere he looked all he saw was fire. The wet piece of fabric wrapped around his nose and mouth, a piece of his sleeve that he had torn off, was offering some protection from the smoke, but still he could feel his lungs burning. 

He could hear Seiren shouting, attempting to direct him towards her. He didn’t fully understand how the Kiri Candiate’s jutsu worked, but it had been key in helping them to navigate through the smoke and the forest. He couldn’t see her at the moment, they’d been sperated a few minutes earlier after a particularly tall tree nearly crushed them both. 

She should’ve abandoned him by now, she should've abandoned him when the lightning first started to fall. They never liked each other, and Seiren had absolutely hated Karui. Omoi was under no illusion that the self-proclaimed pirate was still by his side, or at least trying to be by his side, out of any sense of loyalty, friendship or honor. Kauri might call him an idiot, but he wasn’t that stupid, Seiren would attempt to carve him up the second she no longer needed him. Both their partners were dead, both Gaara and Fu were still alive in the arena. They were self aware enough to know they weren’t strong enough to overcome those odds alone. Neither could win without the other. This was self preservation plain and simple.

Except Omoi didn’t care about winning anymore, he didn’t care about the jinchuriki, glory or even the village. None of those forces were what drove him forward now, as he cut through yet another burning tree, towards the direction of Seiren’s voice. What if he never found her? What if they never escaped the fire? What if this was the end? 

“I swear to god Omoi, stop being so pessimistic all the damn time.”

Could that be? It sounded so clear, so annoyed, so much like her. He stopped moving for the first time in hours, maybe for the first time since Seiren had dragged him from the hole he’d been digging the day before, his eyes darting around his surroundings desperately for any sign of hope.

There was no one there. The only sounds he heard were the roars, crackles of the flames. She wasn’t there, she was gone, she wasn’t coming back. He was alone. Omoi was alone. 

He let a deep breath escape his lungs. More than anything in the world, he wanted to scream, to cry, to beat the ground, but instead, he stepped forward, ignoring the burning ash falling around him, and continued towards where he thought Seiren was. He was going to survive this, he was going to find his ally, escape the fire and then find the person who killed Karui and inflict every single bit of pain he was feeling onto them and anyone else idiotic enough to get in his way.

A kind boy had entered the arena all those days ago. A pessimistic boy, a shinobi yes,  maybe one who acted a little foolish from time to time, but kind nonetheless. One way or another, no one would see that boy ever again. 

The opening ceremony had been a blur for Kakashi, the chariots, the parade, the Candidates dinner, the opening dance all seemed like a superfluous waste of time. But Orochimaru had said appearances mattered, so he did his best to look like everything he was not, cute, innocent, a child in over their head. The civilians swooned, the samurai looked at him with pity, and everyone whispered. No matter where he went, everyone always seemed to whisper. 

It had worked to an extent at least. According to Orochimaru they had a fairly large pool of sponsor money, but it seemed the sympathy angle had been undercut a little by another source. Who could have possibly guessed Kakashi wouldn’t have been the only 6 year old in the Games. 

Taki, Ame and Kusa had all declined to participate in this year’s competition. Great Nation Genin made good martyrs during times of war, and none of the minor countries wanted to risk killing one so close to what seemed like an inevitable conflict. Newly dead Candidates fresh in their countrymen’s minds had been used as excuses to justify atrocities in the last Great War. 

Pulling out of the Games would accomplish nothing. The Great Nations would commit atrocities in those countries all the same. But it did mean the regular field had shrunk considerably. The numbers often fluctuated from year to year, as some villages would send Genin, some would not, but 16 Candidates had always been considered the normal standard. A competition with only the Great Nations, with only 10 Candidates would be too quick, too boring.

So rumor had it some lord obsessed with the Games had gone from minor country to minor country offering to pay the equivalent of two S-Rank missions to any insignificant village willing to send two token candidates to shore up the numbers. Most nations turned him down, but he had managed to find three backwaters no one could find on a map willing to sacrifice a couple genin for a not insignificant pay day. Sugi, Yuga, and Jomae took the bait. That didn’t mean any of them were taking it seriously, (not that any of those villages could produce a quality ninja between them) Kakaskshi could already tell the Candidates they sent were barely better than academy students, case in point Jomae’s 6 year old kunoichi. 

The girl, Hanarare, had been basically crying for the entirety of the Candidates’ dinner, quite loudly drawing the attention of all the other Genin in the room. She had barely kept it together during the dance either. It had been so annoying, even more annoying she seemed to have been staring at him whenever she wasn’t crying. However the most annoying thing was that she was doing a better job of acting like a child than he was. Orochohimaru wasn’t too happy about that. 

But it was fine, it was a reminder to all the other candidates of how unthreatening 6 year olds were. Kakashi could use that. He might not like this strategy, but Orochimaru was a genius, a real genius. If he said this was the best path forward, then Kakashi would follow it. Which is why he tanked his performance at his training session before the evaluators. Not too badly, he needed to look competent enough that sponsors would think he could wield a kunai without accidentally stabbing himself. 

So here he was standing on the top of the parapet of the fortress, staring at the sky waiting for his score to be displayed, alongside Ayama, Orochimaru and about half a dozen samurai. Oorchimaru was in the back, in the middle of a conversation with the samurai captain, talking about who knows what. Kakashi was close to the ledge, by himself. Part of him liked looking out on the city below, hearing the sounds of a festival below, his sensitive nose picking up the smells of roasting meats. Dad used to love festivals. Always used to take Kakashi whenever there was one back in Konoha no matter how small it was. 

On second thought Kakashi hated festivals. 

He was distracted; he didn't notice Ayama approach him, until she was by his side. She waited for him to acknowledge her, but after about a minute and a half of him ignoring her presence, she finally relented and decided to talk first.

“I’m sorry about your Dad,” she said softly. She waited a few moments, hoping that he would respond. Kakashi never did. So Ayama continued.

“Look when the Games begin, find me. You’re my comrade, I promise I’ll protect you for as long as I can.”

Still Kakashi said nothing. Did nothing to acknowledge her existence. She attempted to prod him to open up for a few more minutes before finally giving up and walking away. He was more aware after that, more in tune to his surroundings, so he did notice when his mentor approached him, turning to face the Sannin. Unlike with his ‘partner’ Kakashi gave Orochimaru his full attention. 

Except unlike Ayama, Orochimaru said nothing, merely staring down at Kakashi. Subconsciously he found himself straightening up his posture standing at attention, waiting for any sign of approval. After a minute of this, Orochimaru stepped aside and gestured behind him. Kakashi followed his mentor’s hand which wasn’t quite pointed toward Ayama, who herself was now conversing with the samurai captain. 

“You think she’ll help you little mouse. This isn’t a game, this isn’t the academy, this isn’t even a normal mission. There’s only one survivor, remember that fact above all else. There are no teammates in the arena, only competitors. If you want to survive you can’t count on anyone to come to your rescue. Do you want to survive?”

Kakashi nodded perhaps a little too quickly. Orochimaru merely chuckled, before bending over and whispering harshly into Kakashi’s ear.  

“You might be able to win, boy. You certainly have the skill, the courage, the will. But to be a Victor you need more than will to do what needs to be done. What you need is the Desire to cut down anyone who stands in your way. Whether they are ‘friend’ or foe.”

Then he stood up and walked away, not even bothering to wait for a response. About ten minutes later they finally projected the results of the evaluations. Everyone congratulated Ayama on her 8 score. No one said anything to Kakashi about his 5. He saw their looks of pity, he saw Ayama’s look of pity, but he didn’t care about any of that. 

Orochimaru didn’t even look at him at all. 

-

-

-

60 seconds. Kakashi had 60 seconds to assess his surroundings. His ears could pick up the sounds of countless insects, there were massive trees, with heavy canopies blocking out the sun in every direction all of which were littered with thick vines. Even after only a few seconds, he could feel his mask grow heavier with moisture. No question, the Arena was a jungle, a very dense jungle. The candidates were lined up in a circle about 5 meters apart. Distance that could be covered in an instant. He could see the cornucopia, flushed with weapons, food, water everything he could possibly need. 

30 seconds now. Kakashi unsheathed his kunai. Most Candidates would go for more complicated or bigger weapons as the sole object they were allowed to take into the Games, but he preferred simplicity. Everyone would assume the sorry little 6 year old would run for the outskirts of the Arena the second the gong went off. He had no plans of meeting those expectations. 

0 seconds. The sound of the gong echoed through the arena. Kakashi never bothered to look for Ayama. He bolted straight for the Cornucopia, heading for a large scroll about 15 meters in front of him. With his speed, he covered that ground swiftly to reach the scroll, yet as he laid his hand he could feel it being tugged in the other direction. 

He didn’t think he just reacted, quickley slashing his kunai upward. He barely felt any resistance as the knife cut through flesh. Before he even realized what he’d done he felt several drops splash across his face. 

Kakashi looked up into the panicked eyes of the boy from Sugi, hands clenched around his own throat, already covered in red. Kakashi had never bothered to learn the boy’s name, yet he could see his face so clearly, his fear so obvious. 

Then the fear was gone. The boy from Sugi stumbled, some residual bit of consciousness or will desperately keeping him on his feet, before collapsing to the ground. There was a flash of light, and the boy was gone. 

Kakashi was a prodigy, the future of the village, but that was the first life he had even taken. It wasn’t what he had expected it to be. He didn’t know what he had expected it to be. His kunai was drenched in red. He hadn’t seen that much red since Dad. And just like that he was back in his house, back to that day standing over his father. 

He didn’t know how long he was in that trance, it could have been a few seconds it could have been a few minutes, either way it was too long. Long enough for him to not notice the large axe coming down towards his head. 

Clang

The sound of metal on metal broke Kakashi out of his stupor, standing over him was the giant girl from Kiri with an axe almost as tall as she was. However, between Kakashi and his would-be executioner was Ayama, blocking the blow with a large metal staff. The Akimichi girl was strong but even so her arms were trembling in the face of the power of the Kiri genin, who continued to try to push her axe down in a battle of strength. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the Kiri boy, a much shorter figure wielding a pair of steel tiger claws slowly walking in their direction, with a sadistic sharp toothed smile. Kakashi refocused on his surroundings, ready to meet the Kiri Candidate. 

“RUN KAKASHI.”

Ayama with considerable effort had managed to push the Kiri girl away, but Kakashi could hear the anxiousness in her voice. She didn’t think this was a fight they could win. She didn’t think this was a fight he could win.

Kakashi want to run at the Kiri body, he wanted to fight, and yet against his conscious will his legs were running in the opposite direction towards the jungle. As he fled the blood bath he turned his head back to see Ayama running in the opposite direction. The two Kiri candidates met in the middle of the battlefield and seemed to discuss something for a few seconds before running off in the same direction as Ayama, ignoring him entirely. Soon he was in the trees and the sounds of combat faded behind him. 

-

-

-

6 had died in the blood bath, just like that they were already down to the final 10 in a single day. 5  Candidates from the sacrificial villages died on that first day, as did the girl from Suna. Kakashi had tried not to think about the boy from Sugi, but he couldn’t banish the boy’s face from his mind, the way he stumbled and most importantly the blood. The blood which was still coating his kunai, which he really should have cleaned. 

He never got the chance; a few hours after the bloodbath, Kakashi had wandered into the habitat of a large, voracious carnivorous plant. He had just been walking, stepping on a barely noticeably different patch of ground, when it burst from the ground attempting to swallow him whole. A gamemaker creation, something that would never have existed in nature. He had lost the bloody kunai cutting his way out, but had suffered a few nasty burns in the process from the thing’s artificial stomach acids. It was an early reminder that everything here was designed to kill him. 

He had received a sponsor gift shortly after escaping the plant. Well sponsor gifts, plural, would be more appropriate. A box of rations, fresh water, medical supplies (including ointment he quickly applied to his burns) and a mosquito tent, but no weapon. All things he should have gotten at the bloodbath he thought as he berated himself. The tent was going to be very useful, as the insects were everywhere. An Aburame Clan member would have excelled in this arena. Kakashi had already had a few bites covering his body by the time night had fallen. 

He should have made camp for the night, set up the tent, and eaten a meal of rations but he didn’t. The jungle was filled with a wide variety of sounds and smells, but Kakashi keens sense could make out a few rustling sounds behind him, a scent that didn’t quite belong with everything else. He should have picked it up earlier, perhaps he had been too distracted by the thoughts of the Sugi boy or had been disoriented from his encounter with the plant. Eitherway, someone or something was following him. 

No more thinking about the Sugi boy or Dad. He was a soldier and he had a mission. He kneeled down pretending to examine the contents of his medical pack, turning his back directly towards where he believed his pursuer was hiding, all the while building up chakra for a quick counter. A 6 year old with their back turned, with no partner by their side would be a tempting target. He would draw them in, and then attack them with everything he got. 

Except no attack came. He waited, continuing to rummage through the pack, probably for too long if he was being honest. Why weren’t they attacking, he could tell they were still there, yet they were doing nothing. Eventually he grew impatient, and launched a simple lightning jutsu towards the canopy of a nearby tree behind. 

He expected the jutsu to force his opponent out in the open, a simple warning shot to get them to abandon their cover. To his surprise he heard a high pitched yelp, as a small figure tumbled out of the tree, barely sticking the landing before losing their footing and falling to the ground. 

Hanare moaned as she tried to sit up. The appearance of the Arena’s other 6 year old had taken Kakashi off guard, which perhaps prevented him from following up the attack. He had never thought the girl would make it this far, so she had to be more skilled than he had given her credit for, but she had been nearly incapacitated by an attack most genin out of the academy should’ve been able to handle. In a way it made sense, Jomae was a village of spies not soldiers, tracking and hiding were things she’d be good at, but he doubted she had any real combat experience or even much training. 

He approached her cautiously, she was still a ninja after all. He didn’t have a weapon anymore but he would make this quick. He was about to descend on the girl, when Hanare look up at Kakashi, her eyes filled with fear. The same fear the boy from Sugi had.

That made Kakashi pause for the second time that day. If Hanare were simply trying to lower his guard she would’ve attacked him in that moment, but no her fear was genuine. He stood over her and yet she did nothing. She didn’t even try to run away. All she did was look at him with fear. 

So Kakashi turned around, his legs once again acting on their own as he started to walk away. He was a failure just like his father, he’d been in the arena for less than a day and he’d already frozen up twice. He didn’t have the desire that Orochimaru talked about. He was trash. 

Behind him, Kakashi could hear slow footsteps, as Hanare began to follow him. 

He tried to lose her, he even yelled at her to go away, but despite his best efforts she kept following him, like a lost puppy without any better ideas what to do. Eventually he gave up and just ignored her, hoping his indifference would finally drive her away, yet she persisted. 

As he walked, she would stay a couple meters behind him. Occasionally she would ask him questions: what was his home like? Did he have a family? Had he been to his village? The last one was a weird question, how could a person have never been to their own village? He never answered any of the questions, occasionally he sped up and tried again to lose her but she kept following him and eventually he gave up and made camp for the night in a small clearing.  

He ate a few rations, set up a perimeter using some twigs and loose vines and rocks to set up a rudimentary warning system. Anyone semi competent would be able to notice and evade it with ease, but it was better than nothing. It was warm so there was no need for a fire at least. All the while Hanare sat in the middle of what was at this point their camp keeping her eyes on him. 

He set up his mosquito tent, a virtual godsend as the pests were a lot more active at night, and crawled inside. Kakashi wasn’t going to sleep, not with a potential enemy sitting just a few meters away, though at this point if Hanare was a genuine threat to him, then he probably deserved to die due to his sheer incompetence. The tent would still offer protection, one never knew what disease the mosquitos could be carrying, though he was probably safe. Sick candidates dying from bug bites wouldn’t be that entertaining after all. Still, the bites were uncomfortable and an unnecessary distraction that could detract from his overall effectiveness.

He sat there alone, wishing he had been allowed to bring a book into the arena, or at the very least still had his kunai so he could whittle a spear point or something. So he sat there in boredom until the eventual sounds of Hanare crying outside his tent gave him some form of distraction. Even in the darkness Kakashi could see the girl attempting to shoo the bugs around her head away. 

Had she made any attempt to build shelter? He sighed and unzipped his tent, immediately drawing the Jomae Candidate’s attention. 

“Are you coming in or not,” Kakashi said, the first words he had even spoken to the girl at a normal volume. 

Hanare practically ran inside the tent, before Kakashi could fully react. She was faster than he thought she would be. There wouldn’t have been enough room inside the tent for two grown adults, but for two below average sized six year olds there was plenty of space for them both. Within a few minutes Hanare was lying down and asleep, tossing and turning surly with fear induced nightmares, but asleep nonetheless. 

Kakashi attempted to stay up, but it would be years before he developed his long term insomnia, and he too fell asleep. He woke up the next morning to the sound of a hawk delivering a sponsor gift outside their tent. He quickly scurried out of the tent, waking up Hanare as his arm had been wrapped around her body (no matter what anyone would maintain they had not been cuddling in their sleep, and considering the tent blocked any cameras, there was no documentary evidence that could prove that they had). 

Outside the tent was a saber wrapped in cloth. It was an excellently crafted custom blade with the mark of a master blacksmith on the hilt. An expensive sponsor gift, one that would’ve cost a fortune to have sent into the arena. However it wasn’t just any blade, it was Dad’s saber, the very same blade Kakashi had left at home that dark day and had sworn never to use.  

Day 7

Sai barely dodged the crossbow bolt, which nearly grazed the side of his torso. Sumaru flew back into the smoke, out of sight. Sai had been pursuing him for days, often atop an ink hawk, like he was now. However, following his target would be difficult, the boy from Hoshi had received a gas mask in a sponsor gift two days earlier before the fires had spread too far, a very useful sponsor gift given all the smoke in the arena. It was probably the last sponsor gift any candidate had received, even the best trained delivery birds would struggle to find their target in this mess. 

‘ Cough, cough’. 

Sai could really use a gas mask of his own, even the most disciplined training couldn’t overcome simple human biology. He’d have to rise further in the sky and move towards a slightly less smokey area to recuperate. That would cost him Sumaru for the moment, but he’d find his enemy again sooner or later. This had been their system for the last few, both employing a series of hit and run tactics to try and get the edge over the other. 

Sai would wear Sumaru down eventually, his mode of flight was much more sustainable chakra use wise and without access to sponsor gifts, Sumaru would surely be down to his last few crossbow bolts. It was only a matter of time before Sai tracked him down and finished him off. 

Nevertheless, this was a lot of energy to be wasting on an enemy who would not ultimately be his final opponent. Gaara, Fu and to a lesser extent Kurotsuchi were all still out there. Perhaps it would be better to leave Sumaru for now, let someone else inevitably finish off. 

The pain in Sai’s chest ached. It had been two days since the mountain top, since his plan went wrong, and that pain had never once faded. Even days later, as far as he could tell there was nothing physically wrong with him. Yet that was impossible because the pain persisted. 

He’d find Sumaru, a village’s reputation was important. If Yakumo had been killed by someone from Kumo, Iwa or even a skilled ninja from one of the larger minor nations that would be one thing. But to be brought down from someone from a village like Hoshi, that affront had to be answered. Konoha’s reputation demanded Yakumo’s death be avenged. 

Sai reached for the scroll at his side. He’d draw a few smaller birds, scouts send them out all over the area where he last made contact with Sumaru, if any didn’t come back that would be the direction he’d head. Except all he grasped was air. 

His scroll, his most important weapon, the key to his jutsu was gone, the torn strap that had held it against his torso now just flapping in the wind. 

Well that was a problem. 

Kurotsuchi was exhausted, fighting the fires for 2 days had taken a lot out of all of them, even Fu with her near infinite supply of energy seemed completely tuckered out. Thank god. After a week worth of questions and discussions about her favorite foods, colors, desserts, clothes, and general likes and dislikes, the fire almost felt like a reprieve. 

It had taken a lot of effort to carve out this little safe zone for themselves. The haze from the smoke was still everywhere, and fire was still burning around their self made clearing, but they were safe from flames, at least for the moment. Between Akatsuchi building trenches with his earth style, Kurotuchia creating barriers with her lava style quicklime, and Fu using her absurd strength, which part of Kurotsuchi still refuses to acknowledge was real, to knock down nearby trees to try and prevent the fire’s spread, they had managed to carve out a not insubstantial piece of land for themselves. It had taken them a few tries to get everything right, but she and Akatsuchi had been teammates for a long time, after only a few days together Fu was able to work alongside them as if the three of them had been a squad for years. 

It was a little scary how effortlessly the mint haired Taki girl had inserted herself into their dynamic. Even more frightening, Kurotsuchi was even finding herself a little bit more tolerant of Fu’s relentless enthusiasm, which to be fair had tampered off a little since their fight with Dosu, though she was still far more enthusiastic than any person Kurotsuchi had ever seen.

Speaking of their ally, Fu was lying on the ground, panting, staring straight up at the sky, her hair and clothes stained grey from all the soot. Considering Akatsuchi was in a similar state just a few feet away, Kurotsuchi doubted she looked any better. 

There was more work that needed to be done, they should probably build a second trench just to be safe. There had to be something they could do about all that smoke, Fu knew some wind style jutsu right? She had to, she was always flying around everywhere with those wings of hers. What kind of kekkei-genkai was that anyway? 

Kurotsuchi paused, realizing that after all of the non-stop talking, there was somehow something she didn’t know about Fu. This was a miracle above all other miracles, she would have to gather all of the world’s religious scholar to document this astounding event and determine the next steps in humanity’s spiritual reawakening. 

She was snapped out of the thoughts of the new religion she would surely lead as its messiah by a raindrop splashing on top of her head. She turned to look straight up at the sky, only for another drop to fall on her face. Then another and another. With all the smoke around them, she never noticed the storm clouds forming above, but unlike the clouds from a few before there was no unnatural lightning striking everything in sight, just rain.

Fu shouted in glee, Akatasuchi laughed, as within just a few minutes it started to pour. In no time at all they were completely drenched, the soot washing away from their bodies, their clothes sticking to their bodies. As team leader she should’ve demanded they construct a shelter, find cover, the last thing they needed was for anyone to get sick, but she would let them enjoy this.

Suddenly Kurostuchi felt herself jerked forward, Fu had grabbed her hands, and was spinning her around, dancing in the rain, laughing and smiling as she twirled her friend, while Ataktsuchi clapped along. Kurotsuchi might have pulled away, might’ve snapped at her ally, might have demanded they stop this nonsense and get to work, but she didn’t. She ‘reluctantly’ allowed Fu this moment of joy, they had worked so hard after all. Fu and Akatasuchi needed this to blow off steam, she rationalized. If Kurotsuchi had smiled while being made to dance (more like spin around in a circle) in the rain, well she would never admit it. 

The three of them didn’t know it yet, how could they have after all, but this respite would be their last moment of happiness together. 

Kakashi and Hanare spent most of the Day 2 foraging, learning more about their environment. There were birds, fish, lizards, of course the insects and more than one giant carnivorous plant close to their camp, though after almost getting trapped in one the first day, he was able to recognize the leafy predators and steer clear, making note of their locations so they wouldn’t accidentally wander into one in the night. The gong only rung once that day, and that night the face of  the girl from Kumo was projected on the sky. They had either run into another candidate or some form of wildlife that Kakashi didn’t want to meet. 9 left including himself and Hanare, already almost halfway done. 

Hanare had sporadically asked him questions throughout the day, and after a while he even started to respond and ask some questions of his own. There was nothing else to pass the time after all. He told her he was an orphan, though he didn’t say anything about Dad, nor his adverse reaction to holding his saber. She told him she never knew her parents, had never left the place she had lived until now, though she would never call that place home. He told her he had no friends, she said this was her first time talking with someone her own age. He liked dogs, she liked music. At the end of the day, they returned to their camp and their mosquito tent and once again fell asleep.  Part of him was starting to think this might be easier than he originally thought. 

Of course on Day 3, the first thing the pair did during their foraging was run into the boy from Suna. Hanare bolted the second she saw the enemy, abandoning Kakashi to his fate. He couldn’t blame her, they were from different villages and she wasn’t even a fighter, but it did leave him to fight the Suna boy alone. 

Said enemy ended up being a puppet master, a fairly annoying one at that. The jungle provided thick cover for the desert ninja to hide and his puppet, which seemed to be based off of a hedgehog, was shooting poisonous senbon in nearly every direction from its back. They were wide scale barrages, very difficult to dodge, and they made getting close enough to the puppet to potentially diable it nearly impossible. 

Despite his reluctance to use it, Dad’s saber ended up being vital, as Kakashi expertly defected and dodged the senbon, keeping his distance trying to find some pattern that would allow him to strike. Without a medical ninja on hand, even a single poisonous needle finding its way into his flesh could mean certain death, so he had to be cautious. 

The battle lasted about half an hour, with the puppet seemingly never running out of weapons, until Kakashi heard an angry surprised shout from one of the canopies and the puppet went slack. Kakashi quickly jumped towards the canopy where he found a slumped over Hanare with a bruise on her face, and the Suna boy trying to pull a small knife out of his hand. Kakashi didn’t even know she had a knife, though abstractedly he knew she must have had some weapon. 

The Suna boy tried to react, but he was a puppet specialist with poor skills in close quarters combat. It took Kakashi only two swipes of his blade to land a fatal blow, knocking the Suna boy out of the tree in the process. There was a flash of light, and the boy was gone, Kakashi never even saw the body. Just like that the fight was over.

Fuelled by adrenaline, killing the Suna boy felt easier than the boy from Sugi. Yet Dad’s saber, still not Kakashi's saber, was stained red. Just like it was that day. Was that really only a few weeks ago? It felt like an eternity. 

Kakashi froze up for the third time since coming to the arena. His body felt like stone, he couldn’t move, he just stared at the blade. He felt two warm small, soft arms embrace him, and yet he still just sat there. Hanare buried her face into his shoulder as she hugged him, offering the only comfort a child who had never had a family of her own could think of. 

Kakashi and Hanare spent hours in that tree before he finally had the will to move. They returned to their camp, to their mosquito tent. Hanare was asleep in a few minutes. Kakashi never once closed his eyes. 

He had to grow up, he couldn’t freeze, not again he had a mission to complete. He had to be ruthless like Orochimaru said. He couldn’t be afraid of blood, he was a shinobi. He had to live. He had to win, he had to have the desire to win. 

-

-

-

Kakashi left the camp early the next morning, being careful not to wake Hanare and made his way over to a nearby river they had discovered a couple days earlier. The blood on Dad’s saber had largely dried, he would need the water to help clean it off. 

He stared at the sword, but he didn’t freeze this time as he dipped it into the water, and used a cloth to wipe the blood off the sword, carefully drying it as quickly as he could. The blood went into the water and was washed away by the swift current. Dad’s sword was clean, a random observer would never have been able to tell how red it once was.

The river was only a a 10 minute walk away from their camp, but Kakashi took his time on the way back, looking for potential game. He’d do some proper hunting later, they still had a few rations left, and some fruit and nut they had scavenged, but protein was vital in a situation like this. He got close enough to camp just in time to hear Hanare scream. 

He ran towards the camp as fast as he could, yet his instincts screaming about the possibility of a trap stopped him from rushing into the clearing, the dense vines and trees of the jungle allowing him to hide himself as he observed his own camp. 

The camp had been ransacked, Kakashi’s rudimentary perimeter completely destroyed, their mosquito tent torn to pieces. The small boy from Kiri with the steel tiger claws and the sadistic smile was busy rummaging through the food Kakashi and Hanare had foraged over the last few days, and Kakashi’s medical pack. But as important as those supplies were, the Hatake’s eyes were focused on the center of the camp. 

There stood the giant Kiri kunochi, with a smug smile, her gripping the handle of her ax in one hand, and in the other she lifted a thrashing, screaming Hanare by the shirt into the air. As much as Hanare struggled it was clear she had no chance of escaping the Kiri girl’s grip. 

“Any sign of the Konoha brat,” the large girl’s voice boomed through the jungle. She wasn’t making any efforts to hide their presence there. She wasn’t someone worried about the threat of anyone listening. 

“All their supplies are here, if he had abandoned the girl, he wouldn’t have left this much food and medical supplies behind,” the Kiri boy said with a slimy voice. “It’s cute, the two babies in the arena teaming up together.”

“Well he has to be around here somewhere,” the girl replied. Then she shouted as loud as she could, “KONOHA BRAT YOU HAVE THREE MINUTES TO COME OUT HERE OR ELSE I’M GUTTING THE LITTLE GIRL LIKE A FISH.”

As she said that she raised her axe, right towards Hanare’s stomach ready to cut it open. Hanare started thrashing even more fiercely, crying as she did, but even so the Kiri girl’s grip remained firm. There was no escape. Kakashi stealthily unsheathed his father's blade, ready to jump into the clearing, to fight the two Kiri Candidates, but he stopped himself. 

Kakashi’s mission was to win the Games, but Hanare wasn’t part of that mission. If anything her existence was exclusively contrary to the goal of the mission. This wasn’t a fight he was likely going to win. Both Kiri genin had received 8s during the scoring evaluations. Maybe he could take either of them one on one, but even that would be difficult. They were strong, too strong to fight together without seriously endangering his odds of winning the Games. 

But Hanare looked so helpless, so vulnerable, so scared. She had been there to comfort him, she’d been there at this side in the tent. She was a person worth saving. Dad would’ve saved her if he was here. Dad had saved his comrades even if it risked the mission. Even if it risked the village. Dad had let his emotions and ties get in the way of the mission. 

Dad was trash. 

Kakashi was better than his father. He would be more ruthless than Dad was. He would not let his emotions get in the way of accomplishing his mission. He would prioritize the mission. 

So making a tactical decision for the good of the mission, Kakashi slowly turned around and ran in the other direction. 

“Kakashi, where are you? KAKASHI PLEASE!” 

Kakashi ignored Hanare’s final cry as he left their camp behind him. He had made the right decision, besides even if he had tried to save her, they surely would’ve killed her before he could’ve even gotten close to them. That rationale didn’t stop Hanare’s last words from echoing through his mind while he fled. 

A minute later the sound of the gong rang throughout the arena. 7 candidates left. 

-

-

-

Kakashi wandered throughout the jungle for the next two days. However the whole time his ears were ringing, no matter huch much distance he covered, no matter how much time passed, the only thing he could seem to hear was Hanare’s cries. The only thing that seemed to distract him from that sound was hunting.

With most of his supplies gone, he hunted for food along the way, but if he was being honest it was more sport than survival. A flock of brightly colored birds he didn’t recognize distracted him for a bit but knocking them out of the sky with rocks didn’t present much of a challenge. Two reptiles the size of small dogs offered stiffer resistance, but were no match for a skilled shinobi. It took him only a minute to kill them both. He collected water when he found it and made his way through the arena being careful to avoid the carnivorous plants. But he wasn’t satisfied. 

He needed a challenge, something harder, something more distracting. So he did what Dad taught him, he tracked, he looked for marks along trees, vines for any sign of something in the jungle that did not belong. It took him, awhile but he finally found a trail, and once he did he followed it relentlessly desperate to find a target of any kind.

And he found one, the boy from Kumo running a camp of his own outside of a cave. Kakashi observed the boy for several minutes, a tall lanky blond, who had set up a perimeter far more sophisticated than Kakashi’s own, one that would make most jounin proud. It would take awhile to find a way through it without alerting the boy, and even then odds were pretty low he’d be able to set up an ambush.

So he walked straight forward, setting off the alarm. 

To the Kumo boy’s credit, he reacted immediately, sending a large fireball in Kakashi’s general direction (a good reminder not to assume all ninja would have the predominant elemental affinity of their nation). Kakashi, who was expecting some kind of attack, dodged, allowing the fireball to come a little bit closer to hitting him than it necessarily had to. That allowed him to execute a perfect fake stumble nearly hitting the ground, but ‘barely’ staying on his feet, making his best effort to look tired, dirty and pathetic. 

The Kumo boy recognizing his adversary approached calmly, kunai out burning white hot with flame chakra, his guard much lower than it would’ve been against an opponent older than 6, which is when Kakashi moved, far faster than his opponent expected plunging Dad’s saber forward.

It was over in an instant, Kakashi pierced the Kumo boy directly through the chest. The boy had just enough time for a look of shock to register on his face before he was dead, falling backwards towards the ground. A bright light shined and the gong rang throughout the arena. 6 candidates left. 

A sharp pain emerged in Kakashi’s side. He hadn’t noticed it initially, but the Kumo boy had managed to bury that searing hot knife in his side. It wasn’t a vital area, and when he pulled it out’, the still searing hot blade even managed to cauterize the wound on the way out. But the burns were severe, the pain unlike anything Kakashi had felt before. 

He’s been injured before, a training accident at the academy had left him with a broken arm, but he had never been truly wounded like this. He was going to die, that was the only thought his young brain could come up with. All his skill, training, discipline and maturity couldn’t wipe away the fact that he was just an injured little boy, and he was terrified in a way he had never been. 

He stumbled forward, for real this time, heading back into the jungle, ignoring the likelier safer cave that was the Kumo boy’s camp that may have even had the supplies that could have helped treat his injury. All sense of rationale was gone, he moved only through instinct, sloppy running through the trees, abandoning all sense of stealth, ignorant of any noise he was making. 

Enough noise to draw attention from another Candidate, perhaps one nearby already heading in that direction investigating the sound of an explosion from a fire ball. He nearly crashed into the other ninja headfirst. 

At this point a different set of instincts took over, that of a wounded animal forced to fight for its life. Every thought, all of his energy and focus was centered around fighting the threat in front of him. Muscle memory took over, lightning chakra flashed through Dad’s saber, arendinline spiked in his veins, and he cut, slashed and fought with a new found ferocity he wouldn’t have known he was capable of. 

“Kakashi, please stop! What are you doing, Kakashi, KAKASHI!” 

He heard the words, but he didn’t process them at the time. There was no conscious thought to interpret the information his senses fed him, just ‘fight’, ‘kill’, ‘win’. So Kakashi kept fighting, despite his small size, his speed and relentless savagery were overwhelming, leaving no quarter for his opponent to counter or flee. All she could do was defend, and plead for her comrade to come to his senses. Pleads that fell on ears incapable of comprehending the message. 

At last the blade found flesh, and Kakashi’s opponent dropped their weapon. Kakashi cut forward, again, and again knocking his bleeding opponent to the ground, where he fell upon them and just kept stabbing. Who knows how long he would’ve kept hacking if a bright light hadn’t emerged, the body below him hadn’t disappeared and the sound of the gong hadn’t rung out. 

All of a sudden he was alone. His adrenaline faded, the pain in his side which had vanished earlier returned in full force. A large metal staff lying in the dirt next to him, and copious amounts of that cursed color everywhere being the only evidence that anyone else was ever there. That and the memories of what had happened, the memories that Kakashi’s mind finally began to process. 

5 Candidates left. 

-

-

-

Immediately after that fight, Kakashi received his final gifts, used with money spent quickly before any sponsors could pull their donations. It wasn’t a lot, just a package of bandages, a salve and some minor painkillers, but it was exactly what he needed, at least physically. The only thing stopping him from having a complete breakdown, was the mission. The mission needed to be completed, and to that he had to survive and he had to kill again. He would complete the mission, he would do what Dad couldn’t, for the sake of the village. Devoting himself completely to the goal, helped him suppress his own thoughts at least for the time. It helped that he had stayed in the cave during the night’s announcement, avoiding looking at the projections of the day’s casualties in the sky.

He managed to find his way back to the Kumo’s boy camp, and spent the next two days recovering in that cave. He patched his injury, applied the salve to his burns, took the painkillers though they didn’t do much. He was a child after all, it was doubtful his body would have handled a larger stronger dose. He’d change the bandages, apply the salve, again, rinse and repeat. He wasn’t at 100%, he’d need a lot more time and proper treatment from a real medical ninja for that. Sharp pain still coursed through his body every time he moved, but the important thing was he could move, even if he couldn’t quite as fast or as gracefully as before. he had access to the Kumo boy’s food supply, thankfully, meaning he could rest and recover without having to forage or hunt. 

There were still 4 other candidates in the arena, the pair from Iwa and the Axe Girl and Claw Boy from Kiri. Odds were both were still in their teams. Winning as the lesser side in a 2 on 1 against either group was a desperate long shot even if Kakashi was in top condition. In his current state winning those fights would be impossible.

Thankfully his luck finally turned around a little on that front got lucky on that second day as within a single half hour the gong rang three times. It seemed Iwa and Kiri had the courtesy of nearly taking each other out. Just like that Kakashi was in the final two. It was almost over, he was this close to completing his mission and making everything that had happened worthwhile. That night the two Iwa genin and the Kiri boy’s faces were projected into the night sky. So it was just Kakashi and Axe-Girl left. 

He had run from her twice before, her power and strength was easily the greatest of any Candidate in the Arena. She was more than twice his size, hell her axe probably weighed more than he did sopping wet. He would never be able to take her head on, not in his condition. In every way, it was probably the worst possible matchup he could have had.

But Kakashi wasn’t nervous, in his heart this was the fight he wanted. Was it out of some desire for revenge, or maybe out of some delusional hope that killing her would undo what he had done or maybe he just wanted to prove he was the best of the best. That even at 6 years old there was no genin better than him. Whatever the reasoning was, Kakashi could say, but he would be ready for this fight. 

He’d have to be smart, he was a close quarters fighter but if it came down to hand combat all it would take would be one mistake for her to cleave him in two. He had a few mid range jutsus but nothing he’d bet on being able to bring her down. He had an idea, he’d just have to time everything perfectly. 

That night, he forgoed sleep and made his way back in the direction of his and Hanare’s camp. It took time to get there, he had to move carefully, slowly, he didn’t want to be found, at least yet. Axe-Girl would be hunting him, like him she would be able to sense that the end was near, except unlike him she’d be assured of her own victory. 

He had nearly reached the site of the destroyed camp when she finally found him. Thus the chase began. She was faster than a person of her size should’ve been and with his injury, Kakashi could barely keep ahead of her. Had she been more aggressive, a bit less overconfident she would’ve surely caught up to him much sooner, but she liked to play with her food. 

Unsurprisingly she also liked to swing around her axe. It was her signature weapon. She effortlessly cut through vines, she’d drive it into the ground to power earth style jutsus that would create chasms and uproot trees. Wasn’t there anyone in these Games’ who used the primary chakra nature of their country? Kakashi really shouldn’t complain, he was a lightning specialist after all from the country that was supposed to use fire. 

He cut through vines, he jumped through trees, he did everything he could to look like a terrified boy running for his life from certain death. It was an easier role to play than he might have liked to admit. Still that ‘acting’ accomplished what he wanted it to as he lured her straight into the territory he and Hanare had spent those early days exploring and foraging. 

He was running along the tree line of the river now, an increasingly impatient Axe-Girl in quick pursuit. Where was it? There was supposed to be one right by the river nearby, he had been meticulous in making note of every single one he saw. The river wasn’t flooding the area, but the water level had risen since he had last been in the area. Had the river washed it away? No, there it was! 

Kakashi made a sharp turn, pivoting towards the river, leaping as high in the air as he could in the process, before landing in the middle of the torrent. The fast heavy currents made water walking far more difficult than it normally was, but Kakashi’s pinpoint chakra control allowed him to stay on his feet, if only just. He turned around unsheathing Dad’s saber looking like a ninja ready to make his last stand.  

Seeing her prey come to a stop, Axe-Girl approached slowly with a smile on her face. It was almost over, she would be coming home soon as a triumphant hero. They might even make her an apprentice to one of the Seven Swordsmen for this. At long last here was her moment of victory. 

Did those thoughts actually pass through her head? Kakashi would never know for certain but it’s certainly what he imagined.  If those thoughts had existed they certainly disappeared when she stepped onto the unassuming fake patch of ground that was in reality the waiting maw of a giant carnivorous plant.  

Like a bear trap, the plant snapped around her. It wouldn’t contain her, one of those things hadn’t been able to contain Kakashi with just a kunai, much less someone much stronger with an axe. But size has its disadvantages. She had less space in the plant to maneuver than he had. He could see her shadow in the plant, struggling to create space to swing her axe and break out. Something she would’ve been able to do with time if she had been alone,

As she struggled getting closer and closer to breaking free, Kakashi pooled all the lightning chakra his little body could muster into his father’s saber and let the blade fly. His aim was true, he always had top marks in target practice at the Academy. The blade pierced straight through the plant and impaled the trapped Kiri Candidate through the throat. 

As easy as that it was over. The gong rang out throughout the arena, and music began. The mission had ended, Kakashi had won. 

-

-

-

Just like the opening ceremonies, the closing ceremonies were a blur. There was another parade and another party. Kakashi shook hands with all his sponsors, all of whom seemed to congratulate Orochiamru on his incredible work as a mentor. Orochimaru accepted their praise with a smile, whether it was fake or not Kakashi couldn’t tell. 

However Orochimaru had no words for him, no congratulations, no praise. Not even a condemnation for his ‘missteps’ in the arena. Kakashi had just been another mission to the Sannin, one that had been completed. He had no use for him now. 

A week later he was back at the village. There was another parade, an entire festival was thrown in his honor, though the whole thing was a muted affair. No Akimichi clan members attended. He shook the Hokage’s hand in front of the whole village. The old man smiled, but his eyes looked down on Kakashi with pity and sadness. Kakashi hated that look. 

He also hated the whispers. The same ones that had followed him when Dad was still alive were still there. Except now there was a new phrase spoken in hush voices just loudly enough for him to hear: Kakashi the Teammate Killer. He tried to ignore it but he couldn’t. It was so frustrating, they should be grateful to him. A six year old had cut down the top Genin from three other Great Nations. Because of his actions everyone knew that Konoha was the strongest, that even the youngest among the village stood higher than the best of the rest. Even with Dad’s failure, who would dare challenge them now? Thanks to Kakashi there would be peace. 

Three weeks later 8,000 Iwa shinobi invaded Taki, rapidly advancing straight towards the Konoha border. The Third Great War had begun. 

Day 8-Dawn

The light fluttered into Kakashi’s eyes. He tried to fight it, his tired mind not fully ready to face the day, but regardless he was awake. Slowly he breathed in, the smell of chemicals and sterilized surfaces offending his nose. He was in a medical wing. Again. He always seemed to end up here after every mission. He didn’t know if that was just bad luck, his own inability to properly take care of himself, or just his general lack of self preservation. Probably a combination of all three, but after all these years he was still kicking, so he had to be doing something right. 

Slowly he opened his eyes as he gradually sat up. If he wanted to sneak out of here and get some reading done, he wouldn’t want to alert a nurse. Best to get out of here quickly before Gai showed up with a get well basket and a challenge to see who could eat the most hospital food. Yet when Kakashi’s natural eye took in his surroundings he quickly realized he wasn’t in the Konoha Hospital. 

The titles were wrong, the walls were painted gray not beige, and even light emanating from the bulbs above his head, seemed to have a slightly different tinge. More significantly he wasn’t alone. Surrounding his bed were three cots. Naruto, Sasuke, and Sakura were asleep with at least two of his dogs resting either on or beside each one of them. Miraculously Naruto wasn’t snoring. So he wasn’t in Konoha, he was hospitalized, and his Genin were here. Something must have gone very wrong. 

He was in the Land of Iron. He was a mentor. A mentor to a Candidate who had killed his partner. The saying was true, history did repeat itself. These damned Games, how had he let himself be drawn back into them after all this time.

“Welcome back boss,” a low voice spoke quietly. 

Kakashi turned his head to his side, There lying next to him was Pakkun, the only other awake living thing in the room. He hadn’t noticed him before, the pug had been with him so long, often right by his side that Kakashi had grown used to his scent. Outside of a very small number of S-Rank ninja, Pakkun was probably the only creature that could still sneak up on him these days. 

“How long was I out?”

 “2 days and 3 nights,” his dog replied with that gruff manor of his. 

2 days and 3 nights. That was an eternity in the Arena. Kakashi could feel the pit of his stomach rise to the back of his throat, and his heart pound just a little bit faster. What was he doing sleeping when someone under his charge was at risk. 

“Sai?” he asked fearfully, not sure if he was ready to hear the answer. 

“Alive. Alive and in trouble, Kakashi. He needs help.”

A wave of relief washed over Kakashi. Sai was alive. That was good. Right? Kakashi’s sense of relief was gone. In some ways it would’ve been easier if Sai had died while he was asleep. The boy had killed his comrade, he killed his ally, and if he won the Games he would just be a puppet for Danzo, a political tool to help him in his rise to power. That boy was a little more than a human weapon, devoid of any real feelings, both the ideal shinobi and everything that was wrong about this world of theirs. 

But Sai needed help. Help that only Kakashi could give. Slowly, making sure not to wake up any of his students, Kakashi got out of bed and made his way out the door. After Sai’s actions, surely all of their few sponsors had abandoned them by now. Kakashi would find a way to bring them back to table, to get his Candidate what he needed to survive. 

Regardless of what Sai had done, he was still his comrade, and Kakashi would protect his comrades no matter what, because that’s what Dad would’ve done and Dad was a better man than Kakashi would ever be.

Chapter Text

Iwagakure

It was a short report, far longer documents often ended up on Onoki’s desk. It was the type of report the old fence sitter had seen countless times in his several decades as Tsuchikage. 3 dead Chunin, a few more shinobi injured in a border clash with Taki. No estimates yet on how many waterfall ninja perished, but odds were the numbers would probably be roughly the same. Onoki mourned every dead Iwa shinobi, but any Kage who broke down whenever one of their subordinates was killed in action wasn’t worth their hat. Shinobi died all the time, whether it happened during a mission, a border clash, the Games or training accidents, a good kage knew how to move on.

This specific case was hardly a surprise. There was still disputed territory from the Third Great War, border clashes with Taki occurred every few years, sometimes there would be casualties, sometimes there wouldn’t. It would typically blow over without too much fuss. Oh there might be some ‘discreet’ retaliation on Iwa’s part, a high profile assassanation, a sudden rock slide destroying an outpost, a promising Taki genin team disappearing without a trace on a routine mission. Enough to show the minor nation that there would be consequences for treading on the toes of the great power. With the rise in tensions, and the steady build up of forces on the border a clash was inevitable. These deaths were inevitable. More importantly these deaths were useful. 

As a grandfather Onoki had full confidence in Kurotsuchi’s abilities to win the Games, however as Tsuchichikage he had to be more pragmatic. Even by the standards of a jinchurki, the Taki girl was incredibly strong. Her victory was an existential threat. In the past Iwa forces had attempted to conquer their pesky neighbor twice, and twice (in no small part due to aid from those bastard tree lovers) the waterfall had endured. By entering Fu into the Games, by making such a grand effort to seize the Shukaku, Taki had essentially declared its Great Power ambitions to the entire world. Such ambitions from a longtime adversary had to be crushed with overwhelming military force. 

Yet popular sentiment toward Taki among the residents of the Land of Earth was growing. In a matter of weeks, Fu and Kurotsuchi’s friendship (even the thought of the word in this context made Onoki want to gag) had raised the public goodwill towards Taki to its highest point in the country since before the Second Great War. During a meeting with the feudal lord the previous day, Onoki had even seen girls among the nobility in the capital wearing mint haired wigs styled after the Taki jincurkiki! Regardless of how necessary it would be, there was little appetite among the Earth citizens for an invasion, and far more importantly, little desire in the feudal lord’s court. 

These deaths would be a reminder, of the wars, the border clashes, all the pain and hatred that had written the history book on Iwa-Taki relations in crimson ink. A few exaggerated details wouldn’t hurt. A few strokes on the page and 3 deaths became 10 as far as the public was concerned. A random clash between two squads patrolling the border, became an unprovoked premeditated massacre. By the time Onoki was done, the feudal court and public would be baying for vengeance, and he’d have the pretext he needed to justify an invasion regardless of whether the seven tails whelp won the Games or not. 

Those dead shinobi would serve their village one final time as martyrs. Even with mobilization already underway, preparing an invasion would take time. More preparations had to be made. Konoha would never allow an Iwa military presence on their border, though if Taki did win the Games it wouldn’t take much diplomatic skill to convince Suna to send support in the name of recovering their lost bijuu. Kiri still bore a grudge towards Iwa from Yosuga Pass, but Onoki had a plan to keep them distracted. He just needed one more domino to fall to set that particular plan in action. As for Kumo, they would back whichever side they deemed was strongest. A few early victories should be enough to sway the Raikage. 

Everything would be in place by the end of the month. In one month’s time, the invasion and the Fourth Great War would begin. This time all of Iwa’s enemies would be crushed. 

Day 8

Omoi’s lungs were burning. Even with a mask, who knew how much smoke he had inhaled over the previous few days. Too much, enough that he would probably need a serious examination by a medical ninja once the Games were over. Well whoever won the Games would at the very least, but for the moment that could still be Omoi. Normally a thought like that would have sent the young Kumo boy into a spiral of doomsday predictions. Not anymore. The time for pessimism, the time for dreaming up every worst case scenario was over. There was nothing left to imagine, the worst case scenario had already happened. 

“Omoi we should rest,” Seiren pleaded. 

The Kiri Candidate wasn’t the kind of person who pleaded, she was the kind of person who demanded, who made her opinion known, and dared anyone to challenge it. Several days of fighting through fires without sleep and an entire day of the ongoing relentless pouring rain had drained that energy and spirit out of her. 

Omoi ignored her and pressed on. He wouldn’t stop, nothing would make him stop. Stopping would only make him think of Karui. Her empty eyes staring straight up at him, no sense of recognition of him or the world around her, before she disappeared. The burning smell of electricity in the…

No. Stop. None of that. Keep going. Keep moving forward. 

He kept repeating those words to himself, doing his best to ignore the images that kept flooding his mind. He couldn’t think of Karui, not now. He would have time to do that later, to sit down with Bee and Samui and go over every precious memory the three of them shared of their former teammate. After he had avenged her. After he had won.  

Seiren watched Omoi as he continued forward in the pouring rain. Visibility was low, but not even this onslaught could fully extinguish the fires. Smog still covered the arena. A normal person may have lost sight of her reluctant ally in this scenario but she never did. She was a pirate before she was a ninja, she had honed her sensory abilities to allow her to move through the worst storms, to pick off her enemies one by one in the thickest fogs. She could still see him, or sense him, honestly it was sometimes for her to tell the difference. 

Pouring rain, poor visibility, this was the environment she had trained in her entire life. The Arena has practically been redesigned in her favor. She could move, hunt and kill far more effectively in these conditions than any other Candidate. This should be her time to step forward, to claim victory and return to the Funato clan as a hero. That was the reason she agreed to be here after all. For the chance to go home and be with her brothers, to no longer be a hostage for that blood thirsty monster of a Mizukage to use to keep her family in line. 

But all she wanted to do was stop and rest. She very much didn’t want to keep going in the direction Omoi was heading in. Something was there, a structure, something man made. Serien couldn’t quite tell what it was, she wasn’t close enough yet, but if it was man made, then one Candidate or several had to be there. Omoi was heading straight for a fight, the boy had lost all sense of reasoning in the last few days. She knew there was no way to talk him out of it.

It would be easy, so easy to turn around and leave him to that battle, rest and prepare to fight another day. Except then she would be alone, wet and exhausted to face whatever panther or jinchuriki she stumbled into by herself. 

She examined her quiver. The fire had made getting a resupply of sponsor arrows impossible, and this storm likely hadn’t made the journey any easier on the delivery birds. She had 10 arrows left. She’d won fights with less, with her ability to manipulate her arrows midflight, she didn’t usually need more than a few shots. Still until she got a resupply, that didn’t leave her a lot of room for error in a drawn out battle. 

Follow or leave? Follow or Leave? It took her a few seconds but eventually Serien took out her bow and followed after Omoi. A fight with a partner was better than the inevitable fight alone. 

The thick patter of rain on their house was calming. Not that it really was a house, more of cobbled together shelter Aktasuchi had put together. 3 earth walls and a roof, just enough to keep the rain out, but still leave them the ability to observe the outside world. Kurotuschi’s lava style had proved surprisingly efficient at drying their clothes, though with all the ash and water mixing into the fabric, they were all pretty much unrecognizable from before. Fu liked it that way, all the grey coloring kind of made it feel like their little team had an unofficial uniform. 

They were a team, no matter what Kurotsuchi might insinuate with her little jokes. Kami, she was hilarious, Fu was lucky to have made such a funny and kind friend. The young jinchuriki was getting closer to breaking through her friend’s rocky exterior (pun very much intended). She could feel it! In her heart, Kurotsuchi was a big softy, Fu knew it, Akatuschi knew it and soon the whole world would know it. 

Fu loved the sound of rain, even during a storm like this. Oh it might not have rained as often in Taki as it did in say Ame or Kiri, but they had their fair share of storms. Enough storms for Fu to have a pretty good idea that they might want to evacuate for higher ground soon, but she didn’t want this to end any earlier than it had to. The three of them were huddled together around a few heated coals Kurotuschi had conjured. No need to make a fire in a mostly enclosed space, the three of them had definitely had their fare share of smoke inhalation in the last few days.  

It was warm, cozy. They were so close together, Fu could even lean against Kurotsuchi ever so slightly without being pushed away! No one had ever let her do that before. No one had ever sat close enough to her to let her do that before. The book had said that small acts of physical contact were key signs of a budding friendship. That book was quickly proving to be the best 200 ryo she had ever spent!

“We should be moving soon,” Kurotsuchi said softly yet oddly somehow as authoritatively as ever. She slowly stood up, robbing Fu of her small physical contact. “We’re too close to the river, it’ll start flooding soon at this rate.”

“Just 5 more minutes Kusu,” Fu moaned, doing her best version of what the book had described as ‘puppy dog eyes’. 

Akatsuchi chuckled in that joyful way of his that just seemed to always lighten up the faces of everyone in the room. “5 more minutes won’t hurt, Kurotsuchi.”

The Iwa kunoichi looked back and forth between her two teammates, at Akatsuchi’s wide grin at Fu’s pleading orange eyes (was she using chakra to make them appear bigger?) and sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. Why couldn’t these two just do what she said? After all this time didn’t they realize she was always right? Though the warmth of the coals was nice and it did look miserable and wet outside their little man made alcove. 

“4 more minutes and then we move,” she said sterning, acting as if that one minute difference was some sort of victory on her part. Fu did her normal annoying squeal of excitement, as Kurotsuchi begrudgingly sat down next to her. The latter quickly regretted this action, as the hyperactive mint haired girl decided that Kurotsuchi’s shoulder was a headrest and began leaning against her once again. 

Fu smiled as she resumed staring at the coals. 4 minutes would go by in an instant, that much she was sure of, but even a single extra second was worthwhile. Her whole life she had been alone, looked down on, feared. She had watched the other children laugh, play and rest together, with a desperate sense of longing. She always wanted what they had, the ability to just walk in a room and have everyone happy to see her. She’d swore that one day she would have 100 friends, and smile every day she got to spend with each of them. 

Right then and there as she leaned against Kurotsuchi’s shoulder and heard the sound of Akatasuchi’s laughter, Fu realized she didn’t need 100 friends. No, 2 friends, as long as they were these 2, was enough. A new feeling washed over Taki’s jinchurki, one she had never experienced before: contentment. 

It won’t last girl. It never does. 

Fu ignored the Nanabi. The stupid bug was just jealous. She wasn’t going to listen to it anymore. She didn’t need to, she wasn’t alone anymore. 

And then the bug screamed. It was a gutteral, animalistic cry from straight beneath her psyche, one that crashed throughout her own body, immediately overloading her senses and sending her jumping to the side. This sudden state of fight or flight, flipped on like a lightswitch, sent her careening without any sense of direction as she crashed into the side wall of the structure. 

‘WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT,’ she screamed into her own mind, towards the giant demonic chakra beetle imprisoned within her body. 

The ground shook, snapping Fu out of her ‘internal dialogue’ bringing her focus back into reality just in time to see Kurostuchi, hands placed firmly on the ground, summoning a fourth earth wall, covering the only opening in their little structure. Just like that the trio were shrouded in darkness, the glowing coals the only faint source of light in the now enclosed space. 

“AKATSUCHI,” Kurotsuchi shouted, rushing over to her lifelong friend. 

It took a moment for Fu’s eyes to adjust, but she was always able to see better in the dark than most people, a side effect of being a jinchuriki she assumed. She could see the large boy lying on the ground, clutching his shoulder in pain. What the hell had happened?

A searing pain throbbed in Fu’s side. She hadn’t noticed it before, the bug’s cry had briefly overwhelmed her senses, but now there was no doubt that something very sharp was digging into her side. With the type of common sense that would make a medical ninja faint, she grasped the object, and swiftly pulled it out of her body with her tremendous strength. Blood splurted over her hand, had she been anyone else such an action may have created permanent dmage, but with her healing prowess she never really had much regard for her physical state. She ignored the red covering her hand as she stared at the offending object, a long silver colored arrow. 

Pay attention next time.

She hadn’t seen it or sensed it coming, none of her normal instincts had kicked in. She’d been too distracted, too content. If the bug hadn’t forced her into action that arrow probably would’ve planted itself in her chest. Not even her regenerative abilities would do much good for a punctured heart. Well maybe, it wasn’t something she had ever tested ou…stop that. No more distractions, that’s what had gotten her in this mess in the first place. She wasn’t the only one who could get hurt by her scatterbrained inability to pay attention to her surroundings. No, she had friends to protect now. 

Speaking of which, Kurotsuchi was helping Akatsuchi to his feet. The large boy was attempting to put on a brave face, but nevertheless he was grimacing, a second arrow was sticking out of his shoulder. Thankfully it seemed Kurosyuchi hadn’t been hit by any of the projectiles, Fu spotted a third arrow sticking out of the wall behind where they were sitting after a quick examination of the room. Kurotsuchi had been paying attention and as a result she was the only one of them who wasn’t bleeding right now. 

“We don’t know where that archer is, the second we leave our cover we could be running straight into a barrage. They got us pinned down,” Akatsuchi said to the group. 

“Then we go underground,” Kurotsuchi stated with a firmness that left no room for argument. Any outward sense of panic for Akatsuchi’s injury was gone, the calm collected commander had returned. 

Fu and Akatsuchi could only nod in response. It made sense, two of them were Iwa ninja after all, between Kurotsuchi and Akatsuchi they could certainly make a tunnel big enough for all three of them. Well Fu thought so at least, she hadn’t actually seen either of them use a jutsu to move underground, even though that was probably something that could have been very useful in the last few days. Now that she was looking at them, neither Kurotsuchi nor Akatsuchi seemed quite confident about that idea as they should, but moving underground was something Iwa ninja were supposed to be able to do. Right? 

She never got a chance to find out, as with a suddenness that took even Kurotsuchi off guard, the trio’s new earth wall shattered and a new light source, the piercing thrust of an electrified blade, illuminated the no long enclosed space.

If Kurotsuchi was any other genin, there was no doubt in her mind that she would’ve been run through by that. But she was Kurotsuchi, the daughter of Kitsuchi, the granddaughter of Onoki, the soon to be Fourth Tsuchikage (that wasn’t official, but after winning the Games it would pretty much be a sure thing as far as she was concerned). Regardless of what some clearly biased, and extremely flawed rating system said, or whatever cartoonishly absurd feat of physical strength Fu pulled off, she was the best there was, the strongest genin in the entire world. More importantly she was ready for anything. 

As soon as the wall broke down, she instantly covered both her fists in stone, raising them in defense against the sword strike aimed straight at her head. Had she simply tried to block the blade, the lightning infused sword would have almost certainly pierced through the rock, her own arms, and most importantly her skull. But her instincts had prevailed, and her two rock clad hands slammed together against the flat sides of the blade, catching the sword, and halting the attack mere centimeters in front of her face. 

The electrified sharp point of a sword within a breath’s distance of one’s forehead tends to catch a girl's eye, but Kurotuschi wasn’t focused on the sword, or the rock gripping it that was crumbling perhaps a bit quicker than she realized. No Kurotsuchi was focused on the boy gripping the blade. She didn’t know much about Omoi from Kumo, they had briefly been entangled during the opening moments of the bloodbath (was the really only a week ago, it felt like years), but otherwise she had only had minimal observations of him in the buildup to the Games. 

He had been nervous, too nervous for a proper shinobi, but any sense of fear or uncertainty was gone from the boy's eyes, which pierced her with a sharpness far more refined than his blade could ever be. They were pools of sheer hatred. Kurtosuchi had seen anger, she had seen what she thought was hate, but never something so…pure? Overwhelming? All consuming? This was a rage that could not be extinguished, an uncontrollable fire far deadlier than the burning forest they had spent the last several days fighting. 

That rage ended up doing the one thing that even a laughing Akatsuchi and Fu with her complete inability to understand the concept of personal space could not. It distracted Kurotsuchi. 

The rock covering her hands crumbled, overwhelmed by the chakra coursing through Omoi’s sword. In the grand scheme of elemental rock-paper-scissors, Lighting beat Earth. Distracted, her grip on the sword was loosened, and with a quick twist of his blade, displaying skill typically only shown by a veteran swordsmaster, the remaining stone shattered, cutting Kurostuchi’s palms in the process. 

She wanted to scream, but there was no time to cry or curse her own lack of focus as he again thrust forward, giving Kurotuschi milliseconds to dodge. Her reflexes had her moving to the side the instant her grip had been broken, but as the tip of the sword bore down on the only feeling she was conscious of was a brand new sensation she had never once felt, a deep, an overwhelming pit in the back of her throat.  

It was close, far closer than Kurotsuchi would have liked or would have been willing to admit, but she barely dodged the strike, the sword grazing her cheek in the process, opening up a long painful and likely scarring cut along the side of her face. Out of instinct more than conscious thought, Kurotsuchi’s bleeding hands began to form hand signs, preparing a counter that would surely be lethal at such a short range, just as Omoi attempted to switch the direction of his blade in a downward arc. These actions were almost instantaneous, with no time for an untrained observer to track, but whoever executed their move first would surely be the victor.

Except Kurotsuchi wasn’t alone. Her ally, had reacted slower, hadn’t quite been as prepared for the collapse of the wall, but Fu moved much quicker this time in support of her first friend, smashing her fist directly into Omoi’s gut, practically launching him out of their shelter, sending him flying in the air back through the rain covered field. To his credit, despite the tremendous amount of pain, and having the breath literally punched out of him, he somehow managed to land on his feet. 

Kurotsuchi barely caught sight of Fu’s unfurled wings, before the Taki girl shot herself straight towards Omoi with an overwhelming speed. But Omoi wasn’t alone either. As quickly as Fu left their shelter she crumpled to the ground, arrow shafts visible in both her shoulder and thigh. 

“FU,” both Akatasuchi and very much to her own surprise Kurotsuchi shouted almost in sync. 

Just as surprisingly she found herself moving forward towards the fallen girl.  But Kurotsuchi had been on the backfoot from Omoi’s attack, and Aktauschi with his own much larger rock fist now activated along his uninjured arm, moved far quicker than one would expect from a boy his size, arriving at the mint haired candidate just in time to block a third arrow heading for her. 

Kurotsuchi arrived just a few steps later, just in time to hear Fu groan in pain. Groan, not shout, or wail in agony. She was already making her own way to her feet! Though it was probably unnecessary, Kurtosuchi did grab Fu uninjured arm to help her up, for which Kurotsuchi received one of the latter’s now world recognized trademark smiles.  

This girl was insane both literally and metaphorically. She had been impaled with three arrows in the span of a few minutes and she was acting the same way Kurotsuchi did after she’d been knocked down in a friendly spar back home. She was even smiling! What kind of monster could tank three arrows and smile afterwards. For the first time since this whole ordeal had begun Kurostuchi found herself glad that this freak of nature was on their side. 

But no time to ponder the area of space encompassing Fu that defied reality. They were in a fight, a tough fight at that. All three of them had already been injured, though as Kurotsuchi flexed her hands, she was confident she could weave handsigns, Akatsuchi seemed to be able to move alright even though he wasn’t moving his left arm, and Fu was…well Fu was Fu.

Kurotsuchi turned her attention to Omoi across the field. She couldn’t see his eyes from this distance, but even so she could feel the hatred emanating from him almost like it was a wave of chakra. Despite this rage, he hadn’t moved forward to resume the battle. He was panting hard, struggling to regain his breath. Was that just from Fu’s punch, or was there something else wrong with him? If it wasn’t for the unseen archer, she would just charge Omoi and finish him off before he could recover. Akastuchi still had his guard up and despite the poor visibility from the rain was scanning the tree line for any incoming arrows. 

Wait a second. They had abandoned their cover, their one protection from the arrows. FOR FU. Fu, who could probably be bisected and just walk it off! To make it worse all those hours they spent drying off was wasted, as within just a few seconds outside their shelter all three of them were absolutely soaked. This environment would be terrible for her quicklime and lava jutsu, hell most of her earth techniques would just be mud techniques. She was going to die, cold, wet, and covered in arrows because she went out to help Fu of all people! Fucking bane of her existence, most annoying person on the entire planet, undeniable proof that evey god in the universe hates her, Fu! 

Except something was off. 

“We should retreat," Akatasuchi stated his eyes still focused one the treeline. “If we fight them at close range, the swordsman will cut us to pieces, and we can’t win a long range fight if we don’t know where the archer is.”

“No, not yet,” Kurotsuchi her mind still trying to put together what she was missing.

“Kurotsuchi We Can’t Win This Fight” he said with an uncharacteristic amount of force.  “We can’t counter lightning style, kenjutsu and these arrows in this condition. We’re too exposed.” 

“But why aren’t they shooting at us,” the third voice of their group interrupted, a bit more meekly than Kurotsuchi typically expected from Fu. Maybe three arrow wounds had sapped the girls of a little energy after all. 

Fu was a loudmouthed fool who drove her crazy, but she was right. Why weren’t they under a constant barrage of arrows right now? They had been totally exposed for a couple minutes now, but the archer hadn’t tried anything after attempting to finish off Fu. 

“They’re low on arrows,” Kurotsuchi realized. “Whoever this archer is, they're conserving what few weapons they have left.”

As Kurtosuchi realized this a black fog began to emerge from the tree line. The same black fog that had consumed the cornucopia back during the bloodbath.

“You can’t know that,” Akatsuchi said with renewed urgency. “You remember that fog, we’ll never be able to find the archer in that. They’ll pick us off one by one. We Have To Leave Now.” 

Kurotsuchi looked back towards Omoi who gave no signs of being worried about the fog quickly approaching him from behind. He was still panting, though slightly less intensely than before. However that rage that had consumed him hadn’t waned in the slightest. If they ran, he would pursue them relentlessly and his partner in the trees would follow. That much Kuortsuchi was sure of. 

“No, this fight has to happen. They’re not going to stop, If we don’t fight them now, then we’ll be fighting them tomorrow. We can’t let that archer get a resupply, this is our best chance.”

She looked at her two teammates. Fu nodded, with some sense of determined inspired awe in her eyes as she gazed at Kurotsuchi. Normally that was annoying, but it would suit her purposes just fine. Akatsuchi didn’t look as agreeable. In the distance the fog consumed Omoi as its rapid expansion continued. 

“Even if that’s true we can’t win if we can’t find the archer, this is our last chance to retreat Kurotsuchi,” he replied desperately. This was wrong. Akatuschi was never afraid to make his opinions known or offer advice, but he had never pushed back against her like this before. 

“I can find the archer,” Fu said quietly, her eyes darting between Kurostuchi and Akatsuchi like a child begging for her parents to stop fighting. “You guys take care of the swordsman, I’ll find the archer.” 

Kurotsuchi cut in before Akatsuchi could continue his case, “We’re staying Akatsuchi. That’s final.”

Akatsuchi looked between the two girls. He looked like he had more to say but ultimately kept his mouth shut, and turned back to face the fog. Fu unfurled her wings, and began to rise into the air. Kurotsuchi withdrew a kunai from her side pouch. They would fight. 

Soon the trio were enveloped by the fog and consumed by darkness. 

Fu immediately lost sight of her comrades, as she flew straight through the fog. Akatsuchi and Kurotsuchi were the best team she had ever known (well the only team she had ever known, but that was besides the point). She had to trust them to have each others’ backs. They were putting their trust in her to find the archer afterall and she wasn’t going to let them down. 

Except she didn’t really know how she was going to do that. Even with her vision, the black fog was far too thick to see more than a couple meters away. She had no idea which general direction the archer was even in. Plus she hated flying in the rain, it made her wings feel heavy,though she barely lost any of her mobility if at all. 

Well the only way she could think of to find the archer was to wait for them to give away their hiding spot. So she flew straight towards where she was pretty sure the tree line was. Was it a great plan? No. Was it a good plan? No. Was it the kind of plan that was liable to get her an arrow to the eye? Absolutely. 

It very nearly did, as an arrow cut through the fog only becoming visible right as it was about to bury itself in her forehead. Before Fu was distracted by her own contentment or hyperfocused on punching a Kumo swordsman as hard as she possibly could. But she was ready this time, or as ready as she possibly could be. Even so between her speed, the speed of the arrow and the very brief moment the projectile was actually visible to her, dodging was virtually impossible. 

But this was Fu. While dodding was a concept she was becoming gradually more familiar with in the last week, it would never be her natural instinct. She didn’t try to duck, twist, or twirl out of the arrow’s path, rather she simply raised her chakra infused arm in front of her face allowing the arrow to slam straight into her forearm. She didn’t fall out of the sky this time, no she was braced and prepared for the pain, continuing to fly forward, putting on an extra burst of speed, now fully confident that was flying in the right direction. 

Which is probably why she was unprepared for the second arrow, hitting her in one of her wings straight from the sky, coming from what should have been an impossible angle. Unlike the others this arrow bounced off of her, despite appearances Fu’s wings were easily the most durable part of her body and capable of shielding her from far more powerful and deadly blows. 

Still flying required a certain unthinking rhythm, and taking a fast moving projectile straight to one of wings was more than enough to disrupt Fu’s rhythm. Like a sprinter tripping over a rock, Fu lost her balance and nearly crashed to the ground, her years of flying and muscle memory the only thing saving her from planting face first into the Earth below, barely managing to regain control o=in time to redirect herself, somewhat less than gracefully, back into the air. Except instead of continuing forward she found herself coming to a halt (or a float?) in the air. 

What was going on? She’d been hit by arrows from two completely different directions. Were there two archers? Shadow clones? Puppets? Robots from the future? An astral projection existing in a state of limbo that was moving the physical and non-physical realm at will? Many thoughts both reasonable and unreasonable rushed through Fu’s mind as her eyes darted around convinced that another arrow could come from any direction. The only things she was sure of at this point was that she had no idea where the archer was, or how to find them. But she had promised Kurotsuchi and Akatsuchi she would find them! She couldn’t let them down, the book had been very clear that friends don’t break promises to each other. That didn’t change that she was out of her depth and had no idea what she was going to do. 

Fly up out of the fog. Find a vantage point.

Well that was as good an idea as any. Forgetting that she was ignoring the Bug for a moment, Fu rocketed up straight in the air, quickly passing cover of the fog, continuing to fly higher in the air until she could look down on the whole surrounding area. The higher she flew the thicker the pouring rain got. She was drenched, unable to distinguish the feeling between the rainwater and drops of blood descending down her body from her numerous arrow wounds. Taking a moment to catch her breath she ripped the final arrow out of her forearm. From up high, the fog covered even more than Fu thought, stretching out to about a little less than half a square kilometer give or take. How was she supposed to possibly find the archer in that. 

It was just a giant black cloud. She didn’t know what she was expecting, a giant neon sign pointing directly to the archer’s location would’ve been nice, but that was probably too much too ask. Still, she needed something to work with. The fog was uniform, almost a perfect circle, no differences in wind pattern or disturbances in chakra, nothing that could possibly show where the jutsu’s castor was. To make matters worse it was expanding, continuing to cover more of the surrounding forest.

It’s not expanding. Look closer. 

What did the Bug mean, it was clearly expanding, it was continuing to cover more and more trees to the West…wait a second. 

Fu turned her eyes to the East, looking for the edge of the fog. It took a few seconds, but gradually a a few trees appeared to emerge from the dark cover. The fog wasn’t expanding, it was moving! Not along the direction of the wind either as the heavy gale created by the storm was pushing East not West. So something else had to be moving the fog, presumably the jutsu caster. Could it actually be moving around the archer? It couldn’t be that simple, could it? Well it was a thought, a reasonable thought at the very least and it’s not like she had any better ideas. Continuing to fly above the fog, Fu headed towards what she approximated was the center of the cloud. 

Kurotsuchi and Akatsuchi darted back and forth, zigzagging with barely any space separating them as they ran side by side through the fog. No need to give the archer an easy target, only an idiot would move forward in a straight line. Hopefully Fu could take the archer out soon then they could just focus on Omoi and end this fight quickly. If Kurotsuchi had been consciously aware of how much faith she was putting in Fu to execute her part of the ‘plan’, she probably would’ve gagged. However she didn’t think of herself as someone who wasted time on such trivial thoughts in the middle of battle, as she continued ahead searching for her moment.

The two of them maintained a perfectly in sync pace as they continued forward. Visibility was non-existent, the pouring rain muffled out the sound of light footsteps. Regardless if they came upon Omoi first, or the Kumo boy stumbled upon them, neither would be able to recognize each other’s presence until they were essentially on top of each other. In a fight like this whoever saw the opponent first at such close range would surely be the winner. This wasn’t a battle of skill, but a battle of luck. But not a coin flip, there were two of them and only one of Omoi (assuming Fu dealt with the archer), the odds were in their favor. 

Still this wasn’t the kind of battle Kurotsuchi liked. The stealth, the sneaking, the darkness. No she liked to face her opponent head on, destroy them with overwhelming and awe inspiring power. In a different context Akatsuchi might have commented how much she was like Fu in that, but he had too much common sense to breathe such a thought into the world. 

With each second that passed, Kurotsuchi could feel her heart pound in her chest, she could almost fool herself into thinking she could hear each thud. But the intensity of the rain grew and the constant patter, heavy drops hitting the ground drowned out the sound of even her breath. Even without the fog she doubted she’d be able to go that much further at this point. If she wasn’t running she’d probably be shivering in the cold.  The image of Omoi’s eyes constantly flashed through her head, their intensity, their fury. As much as she hated to admit it, they had thrown her off her game. What could possibly have driven him to that point? 

Suddenly Akatsuchi moved to his left, it was a sudden change, not part of their snaking formation. If he had said anything, sent her any signal she had neither heard it nor seen it. She tried to change direction, but she had moved several steps past him before she could. Turning around Kurotsuchi desperately searched the darkness for a sight of her friend, for his hulking figure, for just a glimpse of his smile, a reassuring reminder of his calming presence. 

In the darkness several meters away, the light of an electrified blue sword cut through the fog, offering a paltry illumination that provided just enough light to expose Akatsuchi’s silhouette. Kurotsuchi turned towards her friend attempting to run as fast as she could, but she felt like she was moving through gel. Her arms and legs were slow, and heavy, her body failing to move as fast as her mind. The only thing moving quicker was the relentless pounding in her chest. 

She could only watch as Akatuschi’s shadow moved towards Omoi, as the Kumo’s candidate’s sword moved down in a sweeping arch. Both of them were so slow, paint dried faster than they moved, and yet they were moving inexplicably faster than Kurotsuchi. Hours, days, weeks, seemed to pass by in what was reality just a few seconds. For a moment she felt like she lost her vision entirely only to refocus on the blue light of the sword which seemed like frozen air. It took Kurotsuchi’s mind a millisecond to realize that it hadn’t just slowed but that it had actually come to a stop. 

The shadow of Akatsuchi’s uninjured arm gripped Omoi’s with the tremendous force the young boy had developed over the years. Suddenly time started moving again, the pounding in Kurotsuchi's chest had stopped. Luck had been on their side. Her kunai was out, she would be there in a few seconds to land the final blow. Akatsuchi had stopped him. They had won!

Boooom.

The sounder of thunder roared throughout the arena, and suddenly everything was moving too fast. Just like that Kurotsuchi wasn’t on the battlefield anymore, in the pouring rain, trapped in the black fog. The sound of the thunder had transported her back under the trees three days ago, desperately running back and forth as massive unnatural lighting bolts rained down on the Earth from the sky, setting fire to everything they touched, looking for any form of shelter that could protect her from this seemingly endless barrage of death. Kurotsuchi froze in the face of the memory, inadvertently dropping her kunai in the process. It only took her a second to return to reality, but that was a second too long. 

She was aware of the shadows in front of her and in particular Omoi. The rage she thought she could sense off of him disappeared with the sound of the thunder, if she could see his eyes she’d have seen it replaced by a wild irrational fear. Akatsuchi had frozen too, just for a moment, just enough to loosen his grip. Omoi ripped his arm out of Akatsuchi’s hand and swung erratically without discipline, his blade moving not with the grace of a swordmaster, but with the unpredictableness of a cornered panicking animal. 

Kurotsuchi regained control of her functions and continued running forward just in time to see Omoi’s wild swing cut through her best friend. 

Two arrows left. Two arrows left. 

Seiren repeated this mantra to herself as she darted through the trees. Everything was going to hell, she hadn’t expected to exhaust her supply so quickly. But something about that Taki girl, no something about that monster that shaken her to her core. She had put five arrows in that thing and it hadn’t even seemed to slow Fu down. She would say it was inhuman, but five of her arrows were usually enough to bring down even the most dangerous of beasts back home. Worst than that, the girl had seemingly flown (Fucking Flown) out of Seiren’s sensory range. 

She should have just let Omoi run into this suicide match by himself, found some cave to hide in and just let everyone else kill each other. That would’ve been the smart thing to do, but no here she was with only two arrows left in her quiver trying to figure out where a damn monster went before it found her first. She jumped to the next tree, nocking her second to last arrow in the process. Serien swore to herself that the next arrow would go straight into that thing’s eye. 

Boooom. 

Seiren nearly stumbled as she leapt to the next branch barely catching herself before she could fall to the ground. However she lost her grip on her bowstring in the process, accidentally shooting her penultimate arrow in a lazy arc towards the forest ground below. Just like that only one arrow left. 

Stupid, stupid, stupid. She berated herself as she stood still on her current tree branch. She had spent her whole life navigating storms, it was ridiculous to be startled by a little bit of thunder. Yet undeniably she had been. Had that lighting storm all those days ago really affected her that much? No, she was just a little startled, a little more nervous than normal because of Fu. A little thunder was nothing. If it hadn’t been raining she would’ve noticed herself breaking out into a cold sweat. if she hadn't been so focused on her own thoughts she would’ve noticed her hands trembling. If she hadn’t been berating herself she would’ve noticed the sound of the gong echoing throughout the arena. If it hadn’t been for all those things she might have kept moving, instead of staying in one spot.

What she did notice all too late was the return of the monster into her sensory range. Fu dived straight down through the fog towards where she assumed Serien was, quickly, too quickly for the Funato pirate to nock her final arrow. Through instinct and instinct alone, she grabbed hold of the last arrow and attempted to thrust it towards the sky. But the girl, an archer who had trained endlessly to hone their aptitude for long range combat, was far too slow at close quarter fighting.

One of the last things Seiren was aware of was the feeling of an unnaturally strong hand wrapping around her neck, and then a moment of incredible overwhelming pain as the dive bombing Fu slammed her by her neck through the tree branch she was standing on and less than a second later into the ground below. At which point, Seiren could barely feel anything at all. 

She didn’t notice Fu standing up above her, Seiren didn’t notice the fog she had created dissipating, she didn’t notice the sound of a second gong echoing throughout the arena, or the Taki girl panicking as she ran off in response. No, the only thing Seiren could notice was her own struggle to breathe through her crushed windpipe, desperately clawing for air, until that struggle stopped. Did Seiren notice the sound of her own gong ringing out for the world to hear? The only person who could have answered that, would never be able to answer anyone's questions ever again. 

As Kurotsuchi watched Akatsuchi fall to the ground, a glowing white light already consuming her friend, the sound of the gong ringing in her ears, she finally understood Omoi’s rage. She no longer saw the black of the fog around her. No, all Kurotuschi saw was red. 

Someone was screaming, Kurotsuchi didn’t even realize it was her. Omoi hadn’t even noticed her in the fog, though to be fair the boy’s ability to interpret reality may have been a little touch and go after the thunder strike, though that primal scream jolted him back into his surroundings. That awareness didn’t matter, Kurotsuchi was upon him having launched herself towards him, tackling the Kumo swordsman with enough force to knock him to the ground, forcing him to lose his sword which was now stuck in the mud less than a meter away. 

But it might as well have been miles away from Omoi’s grasp, as Kurostuchi pinned him to the ground with her knees on his chest. He looked up and for a brief moment he could see Kurotsuchi’s eyes which were now a reflection of his own. There was no chance for a mutual understanding between the two of them, any intellectual thought about ending the cycle of pain and hatred was not something either of them were capable of at this point. They were too far gone. 

Then Kurotuschi landed her first punch on the boy below her. That first blow chipped a tooth, the second knocked one out entirely. She got into a rhythm after that. The sixth punch shattered his jaw, the ninth swelled his eye close, the twelfth broke his nose. Omoi mercifully lost consciousness after the fourteenth strike, and the Iwa prodigy lost count of her own punches after number seventeen. 

“GIVE”

Thud

“HIM”

Crack

“BACK!”

As the rain continued to fall on, Kurotsuchi poured blow after blow on the unmoving boy. She didn’t care about the pain in her hands, the blood covering her fists, as she struck again and again and again. Even as the gong rung out, even as a bright light flashed, even as Omoi’s body disappeared into the Earth, the girl kept punching, her fists crashing into the mud with the same mindless relentless pace as they had with flesh. 

“k…chi”

Nothing would stop her. She would make Omoi pay. She would get Akatsuchi back. She would…she would…she would…

“KUROTSUCHI”

Two arms grabbed Kurotsuchi desperately trying to pull the girl away. They were strong, firm, yet somehow gentle. Like Akatsuchi. The girl dared to hope. He was okay! It must have all been a dream, a hallucination, or an enemy genjutsu. Yes, that had to be it! Akatasuchi would never lose to anyone other than her. No matter how hard he got hit he always got back up in the end. What she saw was just some ploy by Omoi to distract her. Everything was going to be okay.

 But it wasn’t Akatuchi’s large arms pulling her away, As Kurotsuchi turned her head, realizing for the first time that the fog had dissipated, she instead saw the panicking frightened face of Fu. It was real, all of it was real. He was gone. His smile, his warmth, his kindness. She would never see him again. All she had left was this mint haired idiot. 

“GET OFF OF ME,” Kurotsuchi shouted, pushing her sole remaining ally away. A surprised Fu stumbled backwards falling butt first into the mud.

Kurotsuchi turned away from that useless waste of space, back towards the direction where Omoi had been. Where Akatsuchi had been. Her hands pulsed in pain and even with the pouring rain they were still drenched in red. Her knuckles were already becoming swollen. Images flashed through her mind;  the smile of the one boy on the playground who wasn’t intimidated by her, Akatasuchi sharing his lunch with her at the academy when she forgot hers at home, an incredibly corny and absolutely not funny joke he told on their first mission as Genin that somehow got everyone including their stoic sensei to laugh. She wanted to cry, the rain drops going down her face would’ve hid any tears, but her grandfather’s words from one of her earliest lessons echoed in her mind: 

 “Stones don’t cry. Shinobi don’t cry.”

’Instead she just continued to stare hoping against all odds that just looking at the spot where he was would change something, anything. It was an absurd notion, a prayer that only a child could hope for, yet Kurotsuchi hoped all the same. She had avenged him, she had beaten his killer to death, but the wildfire raging within her far stronger than the one that had consumed the arena was not satisfied. 

“Kurotsuchi please,” Fu spoke much softer than before. She wasn’t holding back her tears.. “We should find shelter, we can’t stay out here”. 

All the nonsense, the forced alliance, the constant badgering, the questions, no Kurotsuchi could no longer take it. Fu wasn’t a stone. Fu wasn’t a ninja, at least not a real one, no matter how strong she was. Fu was not worth dealing with anymore. 

“Leave.” Kurotsuchi said firmly, yet barely loud enough for anyone other than Fu to hear. 

“Kurotsuchi-”

“I SAID LEAVE.” Her anger and her eyes had found a new target. 

A different pain, one all too familiar to the jinchuriki flashed across Fu’s face, but she persisted.  “We should go,” she pleaded,  “Akatsuchi would want us to stick together.”

“How would you know what Akatsuchi would want!” Kuotuschi replied, taking a step forward, her swollen bloody hands somehow forming into fists at her side. 

“He was my friend too, he would…”

Fu didn’t get to finish her sentence before Kurotsuchi’s fist collided with her face. The Iwa girl hadn’t even realized she had thrown the punch until Fu hit the ground. As for the Taki kunoichi she hadn’t been able to react. Had they been standing too close for her to counter? Had her numerous injuries slowed her down? Or had the blow simply come from the one person in the world she had hoped would never hurt her. 

Kurotuschi was standing over Fu now. “YOU KNEW HIM FOR A WEEK One Week! You Think That Made Him Your Friend? You Think Being Stuck In This Arena Together Made Us All Friends? I Knew Him My Whole Life. HE WAS MY BEST FRIEND! YOU’RE JUST AN IDIOT THE TWO OF US HAD TO DRAG ALONG WITH US!”

Fu struggled to pull herself to her feet, her body feeling far heavier than it ever had before. New tears were flowing down her face, as she tried to keep her heart from shattering. 

“You don’t mean that,” Fu  barely gasped out, her once booming energetic voice completely abandoning her. Even if it wasn’t raining her words were not loud enough for the audience to hear, but they were just loud enough to be audible to Kurotsuchi. 

“I mean every word,” Kurotuschi snarled, the pained look on Fu’s face only feeding the flames within her. “You are the most annoying, worthless, idiotic fool I have ever known. You have no self control, no self awareness, no boundaries and you expect people to like you? To be your friend? You stumble half blind with no thought, it’s a miracle you’ve survived this long. The fact that a xperson like you can be as strong as you are has made me question my faith in a logical universe.”

They were standing eye to eye now, only centimeters separated the two girls. They were so close they could feel the heat from each other’s breath. No emotion other than rage existed in Kurotuschi's eyes and only fear and pain could be seen in Fu’s. At last Kurotsuchi finished her tirade:

“I hate you.”  

I told you so, the Nananbi spoke from deep within in the recesses of Fu’s mind. Then Fu snapped. 

The jinchuriki screamed, tackling Kurotsuchi, somehow managing to take the latter off guard, but not for long. The two fell and rolled into the mud, shouting all the while as each tried to gain control over the other as they wrestled. 

These were two unmatched prodigies, the best their respective villages could offer, possibly the best of their very generation. One a jinchuriki, who could fly in the air, who had the physical strength to overpower great beasts 10 times her size, and could endure injuries that would cripple anyone else. The other was the granddaughter of the Tsuchikage, who possessed one of the world’s most coveted kekkei genkais, who could shatter boulders just as easily as she could reduce a foe to ash. These two could attack each other in dozens of different ways, each one deadlier and more visually spectacular than the last. This should have been the fight of the century, a clash that would stand out in the legends of the Games for generations to come.

Except this ‘battle’ wasn’t defined by its awe inspiring justus, or the spectacular powers of two of the world’s most unique people. There was no master class in taijustu, no mountains summoned, no demons unleashed. Instead Fu pulled Kurotsuchi's hair, Kurotsuchi bit down on Fu’s hand, Fu scratched at Kurotsuchi’s face. They struggled back and forth like this, they shoved mud in each other's eyes, they grappled, they pushed at each other. They pulled the other back to ground whenever one tried to stand, though more often than not they would fall more so because they slipped in the mud. 

The whole world watched this battle more reminiscent of a fight on the academy yard between children rather than one between two elite shinobi. The two were covered head to toe in mud at this point, so much so the untrained observer was unable to tell which was which, nor who had the upper hand, not that either of them did. They continued in this vein for several minutes. 

But why? Why did this fight continue? The reasons for it were obvious, but why hadn’t it ended? Either of them could have crushed the other at any point. At such close quarters, the right burst of chakra, a powerful enough jutsu would surely be enough to end the fight. Fu and Kurotsuchi were both more than capable enough to deliver such a blow, one that would more likely than not be fatal, but instead they scratched, bit and kicked at each other. 

It should be over by now, that thought went through every viewer, shinobi and civilian alike. So why was it still going? It made no sense. A winner should’ve emerged by now. Someone should be dead. Yet it continued until one of them finally asked themselves that very question the world wondered. 

It was in the 9th minute of this epic bout when that word ‘why’ popped into Fu’s mind. The bug had been egging her on, screaming at her to end this battle, to finish off her enemy. So why hadn’t she caved Kurotsuchi’s face in with a full strength punch ? In turn, why hadn’t Kurotsuchi melted her face off? A thought popped into Fu’s head, the image of the three of them all sitting together in warmth  by the coals. Was that really less than half an hour ago? It felt like an eternity. But she had been so content, happier than she had ever been. Even as she ripped out a fistfull of Kurotsuchi’s hair, she thought of that moment.

It had meant something. Fu was sure of that. As weird as it sounded, this last week sharing stories with each other around, fighting alongside each other, trekking through the woods, fighting fires, dancing in the rain and just sitting together in silent contentment had been the best days of her life. Fu would admit that she wasn’t the most socially aware person in the world, but the last week had to mean something, not just to Fu but to the others as well. 

Kurotsuchi headbutted Fu. Fu’s head  jerked back, but as she did she got a glimpse of her opponent. She could see the anger, the rage, but beneath that she could see the pain, the anguish. Fu didn’t understand a lot of things, but pain and anguish were things that she was very familiar with. She had spent years in Taki alone, eyes always on her with fear. All she had ever wanted was someone to comfort her, like all the other kids with parents had when they were in pain. That’s what friends were supposed to do, she knew that much at least. She didn’t need the book to tell her that. 

Fu hadn’t used her full strength, because deep down she didn’t want to hurt Kurotsuchi. Well maybe she wanted to hurt her a little, she had definitely accomplished that already, but she didn’t want to seriously hurt her. And deep down, very, very, very deep down, Fu was pretty sure Kurotsuchi didn’t want to hurt her either. At least not seriously. If that wasn’t the basis for friendship, then Fu didn’t know what was. (In Fu’s defense she had a very low bar.)

It was time for this fight to end, Fu decided. So getting a little bit of leverage she poured chakra into her arms, and successfully pushed Kurotsuchi off of her, sending the  startled girl into the air and knocking her several meters away. Kurotsuchi hit the muddy ground hard, but managed to roll her to feet, chakra coursing unevenly through her injured hands for the first time in this fight ready to counter whatever Fu threw at her in a scrap that had suddenly escalated. 

Except to Kurotsuchi’s surprise Fu, who was also on her feet now, wasn’t charging straight at her with a haymaker ready to knock her into next week. No she was just standing there, arms stretched at her side palms out. It would’ve been easy to hit her with an explosive ball of ash, or trap her in quicklime but against her well honed battle instincts, Kurotsuchi paused.  Fu’s face was covered in mud, Kurotsuchi couldn’t see the girl's famous mint hair anymore, but she could still see her orange eyes which looked upon Kurotsuchi with something akin to pity. That wasn’t something she was used to seeing in another person. It definitely wasn’t something she was used to seeing directed at her.  

“What are you doing,” a thrown off Kurotsuchi didn’t quite shout. 

Fu said nothing, an unsettling thing in it of itself, and continued to look at her with those eyes and her arms outstretched. 

“Come on, fight me,” Kurotsuchi almost didn’t plead. “FIGHT ME,” she shouted a little bit more firmly but no less desperately. 

Fu took a step forward, arms still outstretched. Kurotsuchi readied her jutsu, but for some reason couldn’t will herself to activate it. Then Fu took another step forward, and another and another. Kurotsuchi tried, but once again couldn’t will herself to activate her jutsu. Fu took another step, moving her arms upwards. Kurotsuchi readied herself for whatever Fu was about to throw at her. 

The Taki girl wrapped her arms firmly around Kurotuschi and pulled her in. Her grip was firm and with Fu’s strength inescapable. But this wasn’t a grapple or a hold. For the third time since they had met Fu surprised a dumbfounded Kurotsuchi with a hug. But this one was different from the one at the opening dance or on the first night of the Games. This was softer, less energetic and overwhelming. This one was warmer. This was wrong. This was a fight to the death, she should squirm out of this, counter with an uppercut and unleash every last bit of chakarka she had. But Kurotsuchi just stood there awkwardly in the rare place of being unsure of what to do. 

“I’m sorry he’s gone,” Fu spoke. One could tell by her voice that  she was trying to avoid crying, but this time she held them in. “I liked him, he was a kind person, I wish I knew him longer. I wish I knew you both before this.” 

Kurotsuchi tried to yell, tried to tell Fu she was worthless again. Anything to get her to stop talking and to go back to fighting. But no words escaped her mouth. Fu continued. 

“I get I didn’t have your relationship with him, and I know I haven’t known either of you very long, but I don’t care.” She raised her voice, speaking steadier, more confident than before. “I Don’t Care What You Say, I Don’t Care What You Do. Kurotsuchi YOU ARE MY FRIEND. I’m Your Friend. Push me away, grab my hair, I don’t care. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”. 

Fu couldn't hold back her tears anymore, as she hugged Kurotsuchi tighter. “You’re stuck with me. I will not leave your side, because I promise you Akatasuchi wouldn’t want you to be alone. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met, but being strong doesn’t mean you have to suffer by yourself. I don’t want you to be alone. Take it from me, being alone when you’re in pain is the worst feeling in the world. You don’t have to be alone Kurotsuchi. I am here for you.” 

Kurotsuchi still couldn’t say anything. It took her a a few seconds to realize that the water streaking down her cheeks wasn’t rain, but were her own tears. The fire within her had been overwhelmed by an ocean of a related yet very different feeling. To the surprise of every person watching who knew her, she didn’t push Fu away, and instead Kurotsuchi buried her face into her friend’s shoulder and fully began to sob, the stone hard face exterior finally cracked revealing the person beneath the surface. 

Kurotsuchi’s knees gave out, and Fu slowly lowered them both to the ground, rubbing her friend’s back.There sat two crying shinobi. They were bleeding, bruised, missing tufts of hair, and filthier than a swamp. They were dangerous people, they had both killed that very day, no one could question that they were skilled shinobi. No one watching could also question that they were also children enduring something that no kid should have to deal with. 

In a more just world, these two would be taken home, given comfort, treatment and support. In a truly just world they would have never been here in the first place. But this was not a world that stopped for the tears of two children. 

“SAI OF KONOHA,” a voice louder than thunder or a panther’s roar boomed throughout the arena. It was enough to jolt Fu, who looked up towards the sky in confusion, as Kurotuschi continued to sob into her shoulder.  

KUROTSUCHI OF IWA” the voice shouted again. If birds hadn’t been nonexistent in the arena, they would surely have been startled into flight at the sound. At the sound of her own name, Kurotsuchi now looked up, snot and tears running down her face. 

“GAARA OF SUNA. MATSURI OF SUNA.” The voice sounded familiar this time. 

“It’s the lady from the interviews,” Fu realized. 

“FU of TAKI. MUKU OF KUSA. KARIN OF KUSA. SUMARU OF HOSHI”

“Why are they just listing all the remaining Candidates?” Kurotsuchi mumbled. 

The now unmistakable voice of the Games’ host Yuki Fujikaze continued in a slightly lower cadence than before. “Congragulations, you are the Final Eight. Each of you have brought glory to your nation. Can we get a round of applause for these exceptional ninja folks.” 

The sound of clapping, hooting and hollering were filtered into the arena. All of the Candidates, even a certain red haired jinchuriki who was in the process of losing his 13th consecutive game of Go on a board Matsuri had drawn in his sand, was unnerved by this invasive uproar. 

“Thank you everyone. Now for our Candidates we have a few special announcements. For starters the Gamemakers would like to announce a slight rule change. From now on all edible items have been removed from the sponsor gift directory.”

Yuki paused, giving the Candidates a moment for that sink in. Panicked thoughts flooded the minds of most of the genin, as they mentally evaluated their dwindling to non-existent remaining rations. 

“Now don’t fret, we don’t plan to let you all starve. Therefore you are all cordially invited to a feast at the Cornucopia! If you can all remember the locations of your individual tunnels that led to the starting cavern of the Games, they have all been reopened. Precisely 24 hours from now, a new set of produce, dried meats and other various rations will be made available in this location. In addition to the food there will also be a very special item available to all guests.”

“Now some of you may remember a unique species of large wild felines appearing at night. Considering the events of the last several days, the gamemakers in their mercy decided to hold these creatures back for the last few nights as they waited for the fires to subside. Now many of you came across these creatures young at the beginning of the games and were doused in a special pheromone that these creatures alone can track. This pheromone cannot be washed away with water or even chakra and can only be removed with a special chemical solution.”

The Candidates who had spent night after night fighting off and running from panther attacks were paying special attention now. 

“The gamemakers have gracefully agreed to hold these creatures back one more night, but they will be re-released into the Arena tomorrow night after the feast. Several vials of this solution will be available at the feast. We look forward to seeing you all there tomorrow. Have a great night everyone.”

Another round of applause coursed through the arena before the broadcast was cut off, leaving the Final Eight to process what would happen next. 

That night in Kiri, an explosion rocked the Mizukage’s Mansion, killing several staffers and guards, though Yagura himself escaped with only light injuries. No definitive evidence of the culprits were ever found and historians would debate the cause of the explosion in the years to come. That didn't stop the Fourth Mizukage from putting the blame squarely on the shoulders of the Funato clan, launching a series of violent and bloody reprisals against the Funato and other sympathetic bloodline bearing clans. What historians do agree on, was that these would be the opening strikes of the Kiri Civil War.