Chapter Four

(Oaths) Fire and Lightning

"I had never seen eyes so old, never conceived such unfathomable isolation behind that frigid glare."

Uzumaki Naruto, leader in all but name of the ruinous land of Uzushiogakure, did not react in any way to the words reverberating around his thoughts. When his attention span lapsed, fragmented memories of the future and present splintered further, making it hard to tell the difference between the two. This was something that Yamanaka Chika was unable to heal, since the slips in thought process ran too deep for her to fix.

The last time he had heard the Ice Princess' voice was when they had both been languishing in the dark cells of Hōzuki Castle. Now that he had found the clarity that had eluded him in the brig, the distinction of pain between him and her had been insurmountable. As the host of the nine tailed demon fox, there was only so much physical pain they could inflict on him before the beast reared its head. His mental fortitude, on the other hand, had been an unassailable wall, heavily fortified from the memories he had managed to wrest from the demon fox.

Haku, on the other hand, wasn't given a moment of respite. From her very conception, Kirigakure had hunted her for the bloodline coursing through her veins.

Once upon a time, the ability to mould water and wind elemental releases to create ice style ninjutsu would have been highly valued and sought after. Unfortunately, those times had waned, and Kiri's BUNSHŌ were given special dispensation from the Mizukage to hunt the aberrations that were bloodline users. The last thing she had said to him, before she had speared her wrists with freshly created ice senbon, was to survive for both of them.

Her death had left him bereaved and broken, enabling the fox to nourish itself on his negative emotions. It had been bad enough that he had to hear her screams when the guards entered her cell; it was even worse when the fox twisted his imagination and showed him the possibilities of what they could have done to her.

The boy did not react visibly but inwardly acknowledged the ghost of his past, and silently vowed he would prevent Haku from suffering the depravity of Hōzuki Castle again.

The matriarchs of Clan Uzumaki, whose thoughts, feelings and memories littered his subconscious, had taught him how to lie not just with his face, but his body and mind. For the insurmountable task ahead, he would have to use every skill at his disposal.

After all, the Bloody Mist did not take any prisoners.

— DC & SK: SWTPE —

Askari Toyohashi was a harsh man; years of fighting the Yondaime Mizukage's crusade against bloodline users had tempered his desire for blood. He was past his prime, which was rare for a shinobi, especially considering the nation he hailed from. He had gazed at destruction and misery, and every slash of his blade had felled many. It was a vicious cycle they lived in, where the strong ruled the weak however they desired.

He was here at the personal behest of some of the members of the highest echelons of Kirigakure's administration to oversee the progression of their latest batch of soldiers. His genin team trudged behind him, the gates of Konoha coming into view over the horizon.

"Yagura-Sama has a lot invested in you securing victory in this year's Chūnin Exams. He will be most displeased if we are to return without triumph." A spasm of pain flashed across his features as his raspy voice finished speaking, the scar running across the width of his throat twisting and contorting.

He continued his spiel, "Konoha sits to our west over the bypass of Wave, and Kumogakure to the north. Ninja all over the Elemental Nations will be in attendance. You are to show them that our village's might has not waned, our next generation is fit, and that we will take any mobilisation as a direct threat of war and plan accordingly. Any state that has notions of accommodating bloodline scum will experience the depths of the water's pressure."

Fingers palmed a kunai, desiring nothing more than ramming it hilt deep in the scarred man's skull, but the grip relaxed, even if the mind behind the hand was still wracked with anger. It wasn't the first time that prejudiced words would be spoken, and it wouldn't be the last.

At the front gates of Konoha, two Chūnin manned the opening, their growing annoyance at the queue milling around written on their faces as plain as day. Some were merchants desiring to barter their goods, others were participants for the Exams, and none of them were going through the line quickly.

The line eventually diminished, allowing the guards to let out a sigh of relief. They comforted themselves by sitting, alleviating their feet of the strain of standing. "Damn Genkai, how many does that make today?"

The now named Genkai turned his head. "Ingoing or outgoing?" he pointed to his right, which had two stacks of documents, each easily the size of a small child in height. "Either way, I think we may have just collectively beat the record for most amount of paperwork signed by gate guards in a single day."

The other Chūnin let out a derisive snort, "We'd better get an award for dealing with these people's shit. If I have to deal with another wannabe kid genius forgetting their identification, I'll wring their necks."

Genkai laughed uproariously, patting his comrade on the arm. "Relax Enmei, isn't it good enough we get to meet all these weird people?"

Enmei merely snorted. "I don't care how fun they are. Unless they have a decent rack and a pretty face, I don't really give a shit."

Genkai shook his head at his friend's hormone fuelled annoyance. He had gotten used to his various quips over their long years of shared comradery. Rather than responding, he looked towards the path… only for his eyes to expand and his lip to begin quivering.

Enmei groaned. "Oh come on! Please tell me we aren't getting another rush? We just finished the last one three minutes ag-AGHH!" Genkai grabbed Enmei by his ear and made him look down the path, resulting in the exact same reaction.

Instead of a crowd of puffed up merchants, walking down the path towards the village were four figures, obviously shinobi if their stance was anything to go by.

The first figure was of average height, with a soft and hairless body. He had a nondescript face, beardless and ordinary, with his only noticeable feature being the jagged pink scar across his throat. He surveyed them with eyes paler than rust and darker than midnight. Short, strong fingers passed over identification papers.

The other figures were evidently the man's genin team. Two male, one female. Unlike their sensei, the males were wrapped from head to toe with black attire. Even their faces were covered. The only telling sign of their village allegiance was the gleams of Kirigakure headbands.

The last figure was without a doubt the most noteworthy of the party. Her splendour was peerless; she was one of the most beautiful kunoichi Enmei and Genkai had ever seen. Auburn hair fell to the small of her waist, tied into a herringbone pattern at the back, with a topknot tied with a dark blue band. She had four bangs accentuating her delicate facial features, two of them long enough to cross over her chest, while the shorter ones covered her right eye. The remaining left eye had a light green tint, shining with hidden mirth as it entranced the two teenagers. Her attire revealed everything and nothing at once. A long-sleeved dark blue dress that fell just before her knees was coupled with standardised kunoichi shorts underneath, and completing her outfit was a pair of high-heeled sandals.

When the three reached the front desk Enmei and Genkai found themselves readjusting their belts, thankful for the bagginess of their trousers. Light blushes dusted the young boys' cheeks as they looked bashfully away from the short girl who had yet to reach the cusp of puberty.

They continued to stare long after the group left.

— DC & SK: SWTPE —

"Good work Mei." And he meant it, the girl was a true kunoichi, a force to be reckoned with. Her female wiles were used for maximum effect; only ninja who'd mastered their bodies could see through her glamours.

The compliment washed over her with cool professionalism. She despised their gazes on her, undressing her with their eyes. Still, it was a common occurrence, and a prerequisite for her to become a Genin of Kirigakure. They had taught her how to use every curve she possessed to her nation's advantage, how to manipulate the way she spoke, telling her what she would wear for maximum effect. The oppressive blue fabric showed the world where she originated from, her hairstyle cemented the exotic water tribe look.

She hated them for it.

She watched the Rebels fight and die in the name of freedom. They spoke of liberty and justice. But for who?

She didn't feel free.

They walked slowly down the streets of Konoha, taking in the sights. It was rare for foreign ninja to enter other Hidden Villages; this opportunity was once in a lifetime.

"Keep your skills sharp, you three. I have matters to attend to." In a Shunshin the man departed, his destination unknown.

That was how things were done in Kiri. Superiors gave orders, and they were followed without question or room for deviation.

Mei released a long and drawn out sigh, before turning and making her way to the available training ground, her teammates following her gormlessly. They had time to kill before the Exams started.

One day her village would be free from Yagura's tyrannical reign.

— DC & SK: SWTPE —

Daylight turned to darkness, and night turned to day, over and over again, slowly passing into weeks, as Naruto continued to immerse himself in the map of the Elemental Nations he had pilfered from a passing merchant.

Mito's memories of the terrain were out of date. With all the battles fought in the area between the lands of Water and Fire, the landscape had been reshaped over and over again. He would have to rely more on Kushina's memories in this instance.

The avenues to enter Kirigakure were limited. A direct approach through the Land of Waves was unfeasible, as it served as an outpost for Konoha to detect naval movement that the Bloody Mist may potentially deploy. There were too many ninja there for him to work his way through.

His best bet was to travel north, taking the main road through Okame Gai and continuing east from there, moving past the Land of Fire territory and entering the Land of Hotsprings. He wouldn't waste time with aimless wandering. However, instead of continuing the path north to the Hidden Spring village, he would cut to the east, reaching Haran Bay.

He traced the area of the map with his fingers, lost in his own memories. Won from the Land of Fire in the First Great Shinobi War and held by a skeleton BUNSHŌ force ever since, more battles had been fought between Konoha and Kirigakure in that narrow plot of land than anywhere else in the Elemental Nations. The frequent battles between the two great villages had wrought untold devastation to an otherwise prosperous harbour. Once it had been a haven for merchants and a profitable environment for the Lands of Frost, Hotsprings and Lightning. Now no boats docked at its shores.

In the Second Great Shinobi War, Konoha had tried and failed to retake the land, not out of sentimental value, but the key strategic value it provided in allowing Konoha's troops to reach its long-time ally Uzushiogakure. In its reclamation, an entire platoon of Leaf-Nin led by Haruno Haru forced their way desperately through Kirigakure's lines in an attempt to get to the island of Uzu. The enemy lines had been defeated too easily, and the Leaf-Nin had advanced right up the amalgamation of islands separating the Kaizoku Sea from the Kanashii Ocean. By the time the squad leader Haru had realised that it was a trap, it had been too late. The S-rank leader of the Seven Swordsmen of the Mist and his six subordinates had lied in wait. In under two hours, the bay's waters had been drenched with the blood and bodies of the fallen squadron, and not a single Mist Nin had been defeated.

To this day, the Bay was colloquially referred to as Haruno's Harangue.

Konoha had made it mandatory for new enterprising commanders to learn from the Nara Clan on exactly what not to do when trespassing on enemy territory. Haru had overextended, deployed his forces with limited intelligence on enemy forces and composition, and failed to protect his supply lines. In many ways, it was fortunate that he had died during the ambush.

Seven hours later, the Sandaime Hokage sent his response. Deploying the Eternal Genin Might Duy, backed by the White Fang and some of his trusted Jonin, he showed Kirigakure just how much Sarutobi 'appreciated' the subterfuge. The enemy encampments were levelled, and along the coast of the Lands of Noodle and Hotsprings, several bays and inlets had been formed as a result of the sheer destruction that had been wrought. The second Leaf-Nin invasion was much more thorough and devastating than the first, and twelve hours later, Konoha had taken the fundamentally important bay back. The White Fang claimed his third S-ranked kill that day, with only two survivors of the prestigious swordsmen fleeing back to the Land of Water with the blades of the fallen.

Unfortunately, their win had not been without cost; Might Duy would never be known as the Eternal Genin again, his bravery and Will of Fire passed onto his son, and his name would forever be spoken in reverence for his aid in defeating four of the seven singlehandedly.

The Swordsmen had achieved their goal though; help had arrived too late for Konoha's oldest and staunchest supporters. The Uzumaki Clan was lost to the wind, scattered amongst the various nations.

Subsequently, the White Fang and his entourage were forced to retreat from Kirigakure's counter-offensive, where the Second Mizukage deployed both of his Jinchuuriki and drove away the encroaching Leaf-Nin. With devastating losses taking place in the Land of Rain, and a renewed offensive from Kumo driving into the Land of Fire, the bay had never been reclaimed by Konoha.

But soon, it would have a special visitor.

— DC & SK: SWTPE —

Her body was awake and alert long before her alarm began to blare. She shushed it absently, continuing to stare blankly at the picture that held her attention.

Terumi Yōgan's hands were clasped behind his back, she knew, a proud smile etched forever onto his face. Kazangan held his right hand in a fist, too-sharp incisors bared at the camera in a feral grin; Miho perched on her brother's shoulders, happy as she had ever been.

She glanced to her own face, lingering pride at her brother for having passed Kiri's probation to become a full-fledged genin clear in her eyes. Barely more than four years ago…

It felt like a lifetime before Mei finally let her eyes rest on the final member of the Terumi family. Hinagiku's auburn hair shone like a setting sun, her lips barely parted in a satisfied smile that stretched her cheeks, showcasing her dimples.

She waited patiently, seafoam eyes locked on the face of her former parents, siblings, and ties to the past, for the familiar empty pangs that would leave her breathless and teary eyed. She hadn't once looked at the old photo in the six months since her family had perished. Hadn't been able to bring herself to look at the faces of the people who had been able to calm her down and set her heart racing in equal measure.

Mei blinked, cocking her head to the side. "Only takes six months, then," she murmured, surprised in spite of herself.

There was no manual for getting over a loved one's death. No-one that she could talk to or see. It took time to stop seeing the people as alive, with no chance of returning to the pure world. No one could pinpoint just how much time, however.

Better than the alternative, she told herself distantly, feeling her heart rate spike. It wasn't heartache that made her short of breath these days. "Wouldn't want to be a blubbering mess when I get my hands on you." Her eyes narrowed, simmering anger a familiar comfort, the very air surrounding her taking on a hazy hue.

"I'm coming for you," she growled at nothing. "And you're going to be sorry you ever made me feel like this. I promised." She stared at the smiling photo for a long moment before she shook herself.

How she hated the name Karatachi Yagura.

"Get a hold of yourself, Mei," she told herself. You're talking to a damn picture. She breathed deeply, once, twice, three times, and blinked her eyes open once more.

'Pain was inevitable, suffering is optional.'

She tore the old family photo roughly, without a word, removing her parents and siblings third of the picture the same way they had left her behind in the pure realm. The intact two-thirds left over drifted to the floor of her hotel room lazily before she caught them. She rose abruptly, striding to the far wall. Mei placed the torn photo pieces at eye level, holding them between her index and middle fingers. They began to darken and smoke, crumbling slowly in her hands.

Firmly in control of her emotions, she spared one last glance at the ashes before sweeping away toward her bed. Mei firmly fixed her hairband to her hair, transforming her looks into its customary topknot and herringbone pattern.

Two quick steps carried her to the window that led to her fire escape, and she wasted no time slipping out. A quick flip carried her over the edge and upward to the roof of her three-story building.

She had training to do.

— DC & SK: SWTPE —

Naruto rose from his crouch, wrapping up the map scroll, and left, not bothering to acknowledge the congregation of civilians going about their business. They ignored him, a welcome change from their usual routine of scorning and spitting at the ground he frequently walked upon.

Their ignorance was due to the face he wore. He moved as a woman to match the age he appeared to be, hunched over and shuffling slowly. It took him several minutes to reach the shadows of a nearby alley, but the blonde who had once been a prisoner had learned patience, the patience of a starved man, the patience of a man on a mission. A mission to turn a dream into reality.

He straightened, dispelling the old woman visage with a quick application of chakra, then launched himself upwards with a distinctly animal grace, using one wall as a springboard to grab the lip of the other before flipping himself over with one hand to land soundlessly on the roof above. He didn't need to travel the roofs of Konoha like that, but truth be told, he enjoyed being closer to the stars. It was the little things that made him grateful for his freedom.

The Chūnin Exams were the perfect cover to slip out of the village's confines. But first, he needed to mitigate the Sandaime's crystal orb, and he knew just the way to do it. Sending a minute amount of chakra to the soles of his feet, he jumped and let the body flicker carry him to his destination.

He arrived, disorientated and sluggish. The body flicker wasn't designed for such low application of chakra, but he dared not hurry for fear that the higher use of chakra inherent in forcing a faster acceleration would be noticed.

Minutes crawled by until finally Naruto felt the internal snap that signified the restoration of his faculties. The disorientation lessened before becoming non-existent, and the sluggishness dissipated.

Naruto formed a single hand sign, chakra rotating throughout his coils errantly, and concentrated. "Kage Bunshin no jutsu,"

With a deluge of smoke, an exact copy of himself was slowly ushered into shape, colour flooded into the duplicate's face, and Naruto studied his Kage Bunshin. The clone stood ramrod straight, awaiting further instructions, which he proceeded to give it. The doppelganger nodded at him before laying down on the grassy floor and staring up at the night sky.

Naruto sent a minute amount of chakra through the many invisible tattoos etched on his right, inner forearm. An inkpot was neatly dropped into his awaiting hands, grabbed out of the air before it fell and splattered. He unscrewed the lid and dipped the brush into the dark liquid. Drawing the wet brush out, he pressed the slimy tip to the skin of his clone and began to swiftly trace out a series of arcane symbols.

If anyone was to see what he was doing, they'd be surprised at his alacrity. He moved with the speed of a master, something which should have been impossible at his young age. Naruto painted each seal and activated them one at a time with a consistent barrage of chakra. The clone nodded again, signifying the success of their tethering.

Naruto internally relished in the feeling of relief. He had been unsure if Mito's experiments in using blood as a conduit for sealing matrixes would work on artificially created constructs. But the anchor his blood provided would allow his clone to tap into his reserves to sustain its existence without worrying about physical degeneration.

"Here," he proffered his clone a scroll which was deftly taken. It was a storage helix, conjoined with a containment axiom. "It has enough chakra to sustain another clone. Use it only if you absolutely need to."

Naruto gave his clone a slight nod, before forming the ram hand sign, and enveloping his body in a summoned cloak.

Drawing the hood of the cloak over his head, Uzumaki Naruto turned around, not giving his clone a look back.

It was time to journey to Kirigakure no Sato.

— DC & SK: SWTPE —

Mei ducked and pivoted on her feet, parrying away several shuriken with her kunai while simultaneously avoiding the swipe of a glowing blueish blade. The soil beneath her feet had been dampened with previous exchanges of water ninjutsu, and her feet sagged slightly as she backpaddled, staying on the defensive.

Her brother had once said that a genin squad was like a family away from home. These two brutes that she had the misfortune of being saddled with did not meet that definition, warranting nothing but disdain from her.

The older Genin clad all in black was a blur to her senses, his blade whistled through the air as it made to strike at her again and again in an attempt to stop her from utilising her greatest strength, her chakra.

Above them both was his partner, flittering between the canopy above, providing long range support by peppering kunai and shuriken at her. All she could see was a flicker moving from one tree to the next. Mei tracked it even as she dodged, ducked and weaved the projectiles.

There was a tell-tale sign of smoke, denoting a switching technique, as the long reach of her teammate was swapped for the shorter range of the teammate that had once been atop tree branches flinging kunai.

Holding a single hand sign, it seemed as if Mei was too slow in jumping back. The genjutsu her teammate had prepared ensnared her in its depths, blurring her vision. Bright flashes of light and hazy swirls appeared in the corner of her eyes. Simultaneously, a cacophony of blaring shrieks and hair-splitting screeches reverberated within her ears.

They both approached her leisurely, the urgency gone now that their quarry was indisposed. It was a well-coordinated and effective strategy meant to disable and capture an uncooperative target.

It would have worked, if they hadn't decided to play with their food first.

Water-elemental chakra burst from the tenketsu in her throat, reacting with her internal bodily fluids. She made sure to keep it separated from her bloodline limits, lest she accidently burn her teammates. Her chest bulged with the sudden expansion of liquid. Mei reared back her head, and spat out a seemingly never-ending river of crystal-clear water. The raging river of water washed over the clearing and caught both of her teammates by surprise.

Both of them were picked up and buried under the veritable tidal wave. She kept the current steadily running before abruptly cutting it off. Her teammates had long since succumbed to their injuries, eyes rolling to the back of their heads, knocked out.

With a single flair of her chakra, Mei broke the chakra-transmitted neural impulse, feeling a mild sense of relief as the disorientating stimuli was purged from her senses. It was short-lived, ending as soon as she glanced at her fallen teammates.

This is what the Mizukage wanted her to work with, braggarts and perpetual laziness all wrapped up into two packages that were only technically classified as her teammates. Everything was rooted on her winning the Chūnin Exams, and with the performance of her team she had just witnessed, it seemed as if she was going to have to carry them as well as herself to victory.

She aimed a kick at one of them contemptuously. If they didn't win, she would lose the sponsorship deal which facilitated her career as a ninja. She shuddered, a feeling of cold dread slowly seeping throughout her core which not even her bloodline limit could warm.

Today's win didn't ensure tomorrow's victory. She might lose her patronage a year from now, but as she clenched her fists, the nails digging into her palms, she vowed to not squander her current opportunity in the Chūnin Exams.

— DC & SK: SWTPE —

Uchiha Sasuke exhaled slowly as his kick split the air. Pulling it back at the knee, while still keeping the leg airborne, he kicked out once more, just as slowly.

He had been doing a lot of that lately. Unfortunately, his brother would constantly brush him off, being less than helpful in his endeavours to better himself. When confronted, he always cited that there would be a 'next time,' which there never was.

He had even asked his mother for training tips, but she had said he needed a more solid foundation before he could learn more advanced techniques. Sasuke was starting to see what she meant.

Before, he would have simply brushed her comments off, disregarding them in the face of his undeniable Uchiha ancestry. It turned out that his clan's bloodline wasn't a step up, but was instead merely a tool to better oneself. He had Uchiha Itachi to thank for that little lesson.

He couldn't even ask his blessed father. He was a busy man, Clan Head of the Uchihas as well as being the leader of the Police Force. He had no time for his second son, nor would he spare any if he did. Sasuke wasn't Itachi. He wasn't good enough to get special training from their father.

That, naturally, had led him to where he was now, dancing through the Academy's taijutsu katas. Well, for all his gifted Uchiha fluidity, he stumbled through each step. It turned out that learning taijutsu wasn't all that easy on one's own. Scrolls could only help so much, as one couldn't really be sure if they were doing the move correctly. Stances were hard to gauge, proper footing was impossible to know, one could never be sure of blocks, and most all but the simplest manoeuvres were almost out of reach, if one wanted to do them right that is.

Learning subpar taijutsu from a scroll was easy.

Sitting on the grass gently, Sasuke pulled a ball of bandages from his hip pouch. He began wrapping his hands in the gauze. It was all practise to reach the high standards of his brother and also become acknowledged by his aloof and distant father. When he didn't move through the katas of the Academy, he let his frustration out on logs. It was monotonous, but it helped strengthen his fists, and slowly but surely lessen the gap between Itachi and him, therefore he deemed it useful.

If it helped him acquire his father's acknowledgement, it was useful, and if it was useful, he did it. That was part of his nindo manifesto. His ninja way.

Punching, at least, was something he knew he was doing correctly. It was one of the few physical things the Academy taught them at their current age, the rest of the syllabus focusing on inane subject matters. 'Useless teachers,' the raven-haired boy thought uncharitably.

Brooding and negative thoughts weren't something Sasuke liked to dwell on most of the time. They certainly didn't help keep his spirits up with his new endeavor, but he found himself having them more and more regardless. This was especially the case when the various offences against him kept piling up. Just the other day he had overheard his father speak to his mother about his quality as a shinobi, and how when Itachi had been his age, he was already on his way to becoming a Jonin. Discussions like that were becoming more and more common.

Day by day, his dreams of acknowledgment and acceptance from his family were slowly becoming distant memories.

Fury spiked through him. Why couldn't his father see that he wouldn't ever be a carbon copy of Itachi?

The training log met his fist and with a brutal 'crunch,' the log splintered, and Sasuke recoiled in pain, before deflating. He had channelled all of his pent-up anger into that punch and still the log hadn't broken completely.

"Damn it…" He cursed softly, cradling his bleeding arm, the precious red liquid seeping into his bandages.

Suddenly, a hand came to rest on his shoulder, causing him to jump in surprise. He turned around, eyes widening in shock.

Seafoam eyes hidden under auburn hair regaled him with warmth.

"Your punch lacked direction, you need to have your hand flow through the log, not just aim to strike it." Even her voice was melodic, the tinkering sound caused Sasuke to lean into her touch, before he composed himself, wrenching himself free from her hold. He eyed her coolly.

"Who are you?"

She held her hands up in a non-threatening gesture, "Terumi Mei, just passing by. You?"

He wanted to brush her off, his mother had cautioned him against talking to strangers, but she also advised showing respect to girls.

"Uchiha," he said proudly. "Uchiha Sasuke."

The warmth seemed to freeze in her eyes, before returning momentarily. "Would you like some pointers with the punching?"

"You? No offence but I don't thin—"

A rain of sharp wooden chips filled his vision, and when he looked at her she had her hand outstretched, an expectantly smug grin writ across her face, the log broken in two at the seam.

"Hn."

She laughed.

— End of Chapter Four —

Special thanks to my beta — Strandshaper and the Twisted Mind Editorial participants. Solite, and The Jingo.

This story was inspired from Dodging Prison & Stealing Witches, by LeadVonE. The author has given me permission to write this.