The Will of Fire

Chapter One: The Beginning

It was a small room, but not cramped, despite the sheer amount of stuff within. The walls were lined with books, and the floor was littered with scrolls and loose paper. At one end of the room, a small window looked out at the sunset, which was casting a ruddy light over the outside village. And, squeezed between two bookshelves, was a small desk, with a large scroll sitting on it. But, the most noticeable of all was the smoke, which wafted slowly through the room, putting a haze over everything. The source of the smoke was a long pipe, worn by years of hard use, which was being slowly smoked by an old man.

He looked like an elderly chap, but he had aged well. True, his hair had been white for quite some time, and he bore some wrinkles and such. But his body was still lean and fit, his eyes sharp and keen. Of course, at the moment, those eyes were glazed over slightly from the effects of the drug, but one could see the intelligence positively shining from him. He was in a most relaxed position, leaning back in a chair with his feet propped up, and his head was tilted back, his eyes fixed sightlessly on the ceiling.

He stared at the ceiling, puffing absentmindedly at his pipe. It had been a long day, and he felt the stress of it in his muscles, a constant ache. Then again, it was a better aching than the one he had as a result of his age, so maybe it was a good thing. He leaned back a little in his chair, shifting his body a little to achieve maximum comfort and minimum tension. Yes, it had been a good retirement. After all, as far as he was concerned, consolidating his entire collection of learned jutsu into a single scroll was far more important than being the Sandaime Hokage.

He turned his head and gazed fondly at his magnum opus, his life work, which lay open on his desk. Yes, he had put a lot of himself into it. Every jutsu he had ever learned he had placed there, along with detailed descriptions of how they were used. It was a tradition set down by the Shodaime Hokage, who consigned his entire library of non-Mokuton jutsu to a large scroll. The Nidaime Hokage had done the same, and had created the largest scroll of pure Suiton ninjutsu outside of Mist village. Not only that, but he had placed his legendary blade, Raijin, within the vault as well. And now, it was his turn. Soon, his scroll would be complete, and it would be placed among esteemed company.

Slowly, his thoughts began to drift, and he smiled as the faces of his deceased teachers flashed before his eyes. He gazed up at his two sensei and smiled. 'I'm done,' he told them quietly. 'I've passed on the will of fire. And it blazes strongly.' His thoughts turned to the Yondaime Hokage, who had taken up office a mere six months ago. So young, and yet so talented, that blonde ninja was a terror to his foes and a boon to his allies. Such a genius had not been seen since… He scowled. Orochimaru. Damn that boy. What had he wanted? Immortality? Didn't he realize that death was the final gift that mankind had, and the greatest? He thought of living forever, of moving from one body to another like some sort of parasite, and shuddered. No, he would take death over an existence like that, thank you very much.

He sighed and sat up straight, pulling the pipe from his mouth. He hated thinking of Orochimaru; it always ruined his good mood. Heaving himself to his feet, he held his pipe over a small plate and tapped its side with his finger, shaking the ash from it. Setting the pipe down on the plate as well, he turned and strode slowly to his desk, wincing a little as his aching joints protested the movement. Groping for the chair, he sat down and seized the scroll, setting it gently on his lap. It was open and ready, the blank paper beckoning. Rummaging quickly through his desk, he found a small brush and an inkwell, and was soon ready for work. Dipping his brush into the ink, he held it poised over the paper and considered which jutsu to write about this time. He smiled as his mind fell on an old-time favorite of his: Doryuu Heki. The old, reliable earth wall. That had saved his ass so many times…

He was lost in a sea of memories for a moment, but was brought back to reality when his ink began to drip. Hurriedly dipping his brush again, he set the tip of it lightly against the paper and began to write, drawing the brush gently across the paper with smooth strokes, making intricate symbols with the ease of a master. It wasn't long before he had the name and description down, and he had just started working on the required hand seals when…

"Old man! You in there? Hey, Grandpa, open the damn door!" The sudden racket from outside his door caused him to lose his concentration, and the brush made a faulty stroke. He glanced ruefully at the marred symbol and quickly grabbed some blotting paper, casting a rather angry glare at the door.

"What? Go away, I'm not in the mood for visitors!" He turned his attention back to his scroll, busily trying to remove his mistake. Then, something in the back of his mind screamed at him. The man had said 'Grandpa'… only one man had ever called him Grandpa. "Arashi? Is that you?"

"Yes! It's me! Now, please, for the love of Kami, open the door!" Sarutobi quickly set his scroll and such aside, jumping quickly to his feet. If Arashi was worked up, it must be something dreadfully important. He ran to the door and opened it, letting in a blonde hurricane. Or, so it seemed. The hurricane was, in actuality, a tall, blonde-haired ninja, who looked like the devil himself was after him.

"Sweet Kami, what happened?" Arashi, panting heavily, shook his head for a moment, trying to regain his breath. Sarutobi guided him to the desk chair and had him sat down, taking the cushioned one for himself. After all, an old man was allowed a little selfishness, was he not? As Kazama Arashi got his wind back, Sarutobi looked him over. He was a sight to see, his spiky hair even wilder than normal, and his attire was dirty and sweaty. His famous white coat was nowhere to be seen, and Sarutobi wondered what had happened to get the Yondaime Hokage out here in such disarray. But, he was forced to cut his ponderings short, as Arashi was now recovered.

"Grandpa... this is terrible. I heard talk, but I didn't believe, and then I went to look for myself, and I saw it. Sweet Kami, I saw it with my own eyes. I never thought…" His voice trailed off as Sarutobi raised a hand, taking command of the situation. The nonplussed Hokage gazed with horrorstruck eyes at his predecessor, who, for a moment, seemed to be the warrior of his youth once more.

"Arashi. Get a hold of yourself, boy." Arashi sighed and drew himself straight, his back as stiff as a poker. He shut his eyes for a moment and breathed out slowly, driving the shock away. Then, he opened his eyes, and they seemed to burn with an azure flame. Sarutobi nodded in approval; this was why the boy was Hokage. Strength in times of terror showed his mettle, and gave strength to those around him. "Now, tell me what you saw."

The blond Hokage took a deep breath, staring the older man dead in the eyes. "The Kyuubi no Yoko. It crossed the border of Fire Country a day ago."

Sarutobi's eyes widened, and he felt the terror that had so recently struck Arashi. The Kyuubi no Yoko? The legendary nine-tailed fox? The lord of the tailed demons, with the power to crush a mountain or raise a tsunami? For a moment, he didn't believe it. After all, it seemed impossible! For one of the Bijuu to make an appearance after all this time, when they were all either dormant or sealed away… But, no. He had to believe it. He drove the fear away and met Arashi's gaze, once more in control of himself.

"I see. Anything else you want to tell me?" At first, Arashi didn't meet his eyes, gazing instead at the floor. Then, his voice a low murmur, he finally spoke.

"It's coming here. Before this week is out, we will be under attack from one of the greater demons."

Sarutobi gasped despite himself. "Kami help us."

Arashi nodded and stood to his feet, a ghost of his usual devil-may-care grin dancing on his lips. "Sandaime Hokage-sama. Will you come out of retirement one last time?" He stretched his hand out to the old man, who hesitated. Then, as he remembered the words of the first Hokage, Sarutobi flung his hesitancy to the winds and seized Arashi's hand. Arashi, smiling, pulled him to his feet. Sarutobi squared his shoulders and nodded at his successor, seeing once more the strength of character that had prompted his choice. 'This young man is destined for great things…' He thought to himself.

"I will." Arashi gave him another grin and laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Good. Now, let's get going. We've got a little party to plan…"

"Hokage-sama, the latest reports are in!" Arashi waved the eager Chuunin in, yawning as he did so. As the stack of paper was slammed onto his desk, he grabbed the topmost sheet and glanced at it, trying to focus his sleepy mind on the task at hand. He groaned as he read it, since the news was not at all good. It had been two days since he had convinced Sarutobi to come out of retirement, and three days since Kyuubi had first crossed the border. That means that they had three days, maybe four before the Kyuubi arrived. And, according to this latest report, their latest plan of action, which was to find a way to poison Kyuubi, had failed miserably.

At Arashi's insistence, Sarutobi had for Tsunade, the legendary Slug Princess. Luckily, she had been gambling in the area, and had made it to Konoha just the day before. Arashi immediately asked her to concoct several of her famous poisons, especially whatever she had with exceptionally debilitating and severe effects. She had agreed, mainly because Sarutobi had convinced her, and soon Arashi had seven samples, each of them with Tsunade's own stamp of approval. He had sent that off with the initial assault group this morning, and now he found out that none of them had the slightest affect on the great beast. If it came down to it, he may just have to use… "it". He groaned again, and leaned forward until his head rested against the flat surface of the table, thinking 'It sucks to be me right now.'

Sarutobi glanced at his successor, noting the dark circles under his eyes. As far as the Sandaime knew, Arashi had been up for at least forty-eight hours, and it was clearly doing him no good. Sarutobi knew too well the dangers in staying awake too long, no matter how important the work was. One had to sleep, or risk losing the mental acuity required to adequately deal with the situation at hand. It was with this in mind that he reached across the table and laid a wrinkled hand on Arashi's shoulder.

"Hokage-dono…" Arashi raised his head and looked blearily at the old man, fighting back another yawn. Wrinkling his nose in distaste for the formal title, he brushed away Sarutobi's hand.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm up, I'm up…" Sarutobi shook his head.

"That's the problem. You haven't slept in two days." Arashi simply stared at him blankly.

"And… your point is?" Sarutobi groaned, muttering despondently about the 'younger generation'.

"The point is that you need to sleep. Go, now, and get some shut-eye." Arashi shook his head, yawning again.

"Nope. Won't do it. You can't make me. Got loads of work to… to do…" His sentence trailing off, he wearily seized another sheet of paper and tried to read it over, his eyes blinking rapidly in effort to stay awake. Sarutobi sighed, realizing that Arashi would not give in. Very well. Time to pull in the big guns. He nodded to a mysterious figure, who was leaning casually against the doorway, and then carefully inserted earplugs.

"BEHOLD! THE TOAD HERMIT, JIRAIYA-SAMA, IS HERE! GAZE IN WONDER AT THE NINJA WHO CAN DEFEAT ANY FOE! BLUSH IN ENVY AT THE MAN WHO CAN PLEASURE ANY WOMAN! BOW IN WORSHIP BEFORE THE GREAT HOKAGE-TRAINER! JIRAIYA!" White hair waving wildly, he swung his head about in circles, with legs parted and feet planted. With one hand raised to the heavens and the other extended in benediction, Jiraiya, the legendary Sannin, entered the room.

He gave a wink at his former sensei, who was reinforcing the earplugs with his hands, and turned towards his former student. Arashi, who just a moment before had been struggling with sleep, was now looking as if someone had just pumped forty gallons of caffeine into him. His blonde hair stood on end, his eyes were wide open, and his mouth was gaping. With his arm trembling, Arashi raised a hand to his chest and clutched at his heart, feeling the rapid beat within his chest. Jiraiya raised his eyebrows and began roaring in laughter, his guffaws making the Sandaime glad he had kept his earplugs in. Finally, once he was done laughing, he grinned at the still frozen Arashi.

"Oh? What's this? My little student's all grown up and Hokage, but he still shakes with fear around me, eh?" Jiraiya squared his shoulders and began flexing, gazing in admiration at himself. "Well, it's only natural to be intimidated by such beauty, such power! Have no fear, my little student, I shall not harm you!" For good measure, he whipped his head around again, his long and spiky white hair making another arc through the air.

Finally, Arashi seemed to have recovered enough to speak. "You… You…" Jiraiya gasped in mock astonishment.

"What's this? The child speaketh? What words of wisdom will he-"

"NEVER DO THAT AGAIN!" Arashi jumped to his feet and strode towards Jiraiya, arm outstretched and finger pointing. "I swear to Kami-sama, if you ever, EVER do that again, I will take your precious telescope, RAM it down your throat, make you shit it out, and then force it up the other way! GOT IT, ERO-SENSEI?!" By now, he was standing directly in front of Jiraiya, and his pointing finger was now poking his sensei's chest in a rather threatening fashion.

Jiraiya grinned and clasped his hands together, putting an innocent look on his face. "Huh? Do what again? I didn't do anything! No sir, not little ol' me." Arashi groaned and walked back over to his chair, collapsing into it.

"Dear Kami-sama, Jiraiya, that nearly gave me a heart attack. Just… don't… okay?" Jiraiya nodded slowly, just now taking in his student's appearance. His eyes narrowed as he noted the greasy hair, the lidded eyes.

"Arashi… When was the last time you slept?" Arashi was about to answer, but Sarutobi beat him to the punch, having taken out his earplugs just in time to hear the question.

"He hasn't slept in two full days, Jiraiya. Help me convince him to get some sleep, will you?" Jiraiya nodded slowly at Sarutobi then examined Arashi again, anger starting to show in his eyes.

"Arashi." The Yondaime turned his attention to his former sensei, tired eyes meeting angry ones. "Check your fly." Arashi gasped and slammed his hand over his crotch, trying to zip it up. Unfortunately, he was wearing the Jounin standard gear, and those pants didn't even have a zipper. Jiraiya nodded; Arashi was definitely out of it. He crossed the room and grabbed Arashi's arm, dragging him out of the chair. "Alright, Goldilocks, it's beddy-bye time. Say goodnight to Grandpa Monkey." He seized Arashi's free hand and waved it at Sarutobi, who gave him a wry grin.

"But… I'm… I'm not… sleepy…" Arashi's feeble protests were punctuated by yawns, which effectively erased his chances of being heard. Jiraiya led him out to the doorway and motioned to both of the Chuunin guards.

"You two." They saluted quickly, and he jabbed his head at Arashi. "Take the blonde wonder boy here and bring him to the hospital. Put him under Tsunade's care, and tell her that he needs to stay in bed." They nodded and grabbed the Yondaime Hokage, who started to complain. They looked nervously at Jiraiya, who merely smiled. "He just hates losing. Ignore what he says. If he threatens either of you, just let me know. Oh, and by the way. Tell Tsunade that if he doesn't stay in bed, I send out those photos I took of her twenty-first birthday party." The two Chuunin gaped at him, and he gave them a playful wink. "Just make sure to tell her." They nodded and left, Hokage in tow.

"Do I want to know?" Jiraiya chuckled at Sarutobi's question and went back into the room, taking the seat Arashi had just vacated.

"Nah, I'm making it up. I don't have any photos, but she'll think I do. That, my wrinkled old sensei, is what we youngsters call 'messing with her head'." Sarutobi chuckled, not just at the joke, but at Jiraiya's interesting choice of words.

"Hah, 'wrinkled old sensei', am I? I could still take you to school, Jiraiya, and don't you forget it!" Jiraiya laughed, raising his hands in mock surrender.

"Okay, okay, fine. You win." His eye fell on one of the many papers that littered the table they were sharing. He grabbed a sheet and picked it up, reading it over. His eyes narrowed as he digested the information it held. "So. It's true, then. The Kyuubi actually is going to attack."

Sarutobi sighed sorrowfully. "Almost certainly. Oh, there's the off chance that he won't, but at this point, it's simply not going to happen. Here, take a look at this." He grabbed a paper and tossed it at Jiraiya, who caught it without bothering to look. He brought his eyes to bear and examined it closely. It was a map, detailing the land of Fire, and there were markings on it that symbolized the Kyuubi's path. Jiraiya's eyes widened in astonishment.

"It's traveling in a straight line? Why would it be coming straight for us?" Sarutobi only shook his head.

"I don't have a clue. It just suddenly appeared, after being dormant for centuries, and started heading directly here." Jiraiya tossed the map away, focusing all his attention on his sensei.

"How do you know it's after us? Maybe it's going for something else?..." His question died away as Sarutobi shook his head again.

"No, that's impossible. There's nothing else in this area, and this area is most definitely where it's heading. No, it's after us, alright."

Jiraiya frowned and glared at the papers on the desk in front of him. He saw reports of every conceivable kind: mission reports, village status, supply levels, Shiki Fuujin, Kyuubi positioning, nin… 'Wait a minute. Shiki Fuujin?' Jiraiya quickly seized the paper, whose title had caught his eye. He glanced it over and his eyes widened in shock, unable to believe what he was seeing.

"Saru-sensei!" The man in question was perusing through another report at the moment, and merely grunted an acknowledgement. "What does 'Shiki Fuujin' mean to you?" Sarutobi jumped, and stared at Jiraiya with a look of shock. His face was pale, and Jiraiya looked completely unmanned at this sudden change of expression.

"Shiki Fuujin? Jiraiya, wherever did you hear of such a thing?" For a moment, Jiraiya couldn't say anything, seeing once more the sensei that he remembered from long ago. Then he came to his senses and gave Sarutobi the paper he had seen. The Sandaime seized it from him and gazed at it intently, his expression growing horrified. "No… This is… But… Why?..." His voice trailed away in astonishment, and Jiraiya found himself terrified and excited at the same time, his mood affected by his sensei's.

"What? What is it?" Sarutobi regained his composure and slumped back into his seat, his eyes still on the paper.

"The Shiki Fuujin was a seal developed by the Shodaime Hokage, but it was left uncompleted and was never meant to be used, except as a last resort. It is classified as an S-Rank kinjutsu, and as such is forbidden to even learn." Jiraiya looked stunned by this sudden development.

"But… what does it do?" Sarutobi let the paper fall from his hands and clutched at his brow, feeling his age.

"It is a contract. A summoning contract. With it one can summon a force that no one can withstand." Jiraiya leaned forward, only one thing on his mind.

"What does it summon?" Sarutobi sighed.

"Death itself." Jiraiya leaned back in shock, his face paling. Sarutobi continued, his voice dead and monotone. "This is a contract with the Shinigami, the God of Death. Once summoned, he will devour the souls of your enemies, but at a terrible price. In return, you must allow him to eat your own soul as well. And those who are eaten by the Shinigami are forbidden from going to heaven or hell. They are trapped forever in mindless torment in the Shinigami's belly, eternally lost. It is the ultimate jutsu, for which you must pay the ultimate price." Jiraiya was completely silent, letting the implications of this wash over him.

"But… you said it was incomplete, right? So, no one can use it, right?" The Third Hokage nodded, but a frown marred his features.

"Well, yes, there is that. But, look on the page, next to the name." Jiraiya took the sheet and examined it once again, reading the short list quickly.

"Eh? Hand seals? But, there's only nine of them! Surely you need more seals than that, or you'd never have any control over the jutsu!" Sarutobi shook his head somberly.

"You don't understand, Jiraiya. It's a summoning contract. Your standard Kuchiyose no Jutsu requires a mere five hand seals, does it not?" Understanding dawned in Jiraiya's eyes, and he examined the paper with renewed vigor. But Sarutobi wasn't finished just yet. "Unfortunately, the last time I saw that jutsu, it had no hand seals. The Shodaime hadn't gotten past the initial contract before he abandoned it." Jiraiya glanced at his sensei in confusion, then realized what his sensei was getting at.

"You mean…" Sarutobi nodded, and Jiraiya's face grew angry. "Dammit, that fool's been experimenting! Why didn't he tell us? And why the hell did he choose this jutsu, of all things! Damn it to hell, the boy just can't keep his paws off things that should be left alone!" Jiraiya rose to his feet, cracking his knuckles. "I'll be back soon, Saru-sensei. I've just got a little business to take care of."

The Sandaime laughed and waved him back into his seat. "Jiraiya, beating him to death won't solve the problem, you know that as well as I. Besides, I have little desire to be the Hokage again, and I'd have to take the position if the Fourth died." As the toad hermit regained his seat, Sarutobi leaned forward, his face grave once more. "However… It is true that he is messing with things that ought to be left alone…" Jiraiya nodded, and seized the sheet of paper once more, turning it over and over in frustration.

"So… what do we do? Do we stop him?" Sarutobi sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with two wrinkled fingers.

"No, no, let him sleep for now. But, once he awakes, I think he owes us a little chat, don't you think so?" Jiraiya grinned and nodded, catching his sensei's drift. Then, the two middle-aged men, one wise and one perverted, began to wade through the sea of reports one at a time, searching for any information of use.

"WHAT!" The shout rang through the hospital, stopping patients and doctors alike in their tracks. "IMPOSSIBLE!" As the second yell shook the windows, the more intelligent doctors stole away quietly, knowing the source of that terrible voice. Thus, luckily for them, they were at a safe distance when Tsunade, the famous Slug Princess, barreled through the doorway, two babbling Chuunin in tow. The legendary sucker looked about for a moment, before her eyes fell on room 206. She rushed towards it and slammed open the door, screaming a single word: "ARASHI!"

Her brown eyes scanned the room quickly before alighting on a certain bed. She let out a strangled sound of disbelief and dashed to it, her eyes wide in astonishment. There, where just a minute ago had laid a blissfully snoring Kazama Arashi, was a small doll, resting against the pillow. She reached down and picked up the thing with trembling hands, examining it. It was a well-made doll, which beautifully depicted a certain blonde Hokage flashing the victory sign, mouth quirked and tongue protruding in a decidedly gloating manner. And written on its chest, in flowing script, were these simple words: FOOLED YOU, SUCKERS!

Tsunade let out an animalistic growl and slowly closed her fist about the doll, which was crushed under her mighty grip. Her teeth grinding, she rounded on the two Chuunin, who were trembling in fear. She thrust the remnants of the doll towards them and growled again, too angry to speak. One of the Chuunin whimpered and cringed away, and the room was suddenly filled with the stench of a little… 'accident' in his pants. Tsunade threw him a look of disgust and strode past them, carefully walking around the small puddle on the floor.

Once she was out of the room, she slammed the door shut and breathed heavily, her eyes filled with anger. Dammit, that cocky bastard! The nerve of him, playing games like that on the likes of her, the legendary Tsunade! Fine. If he wanted to play games, she would play games. She turned away from the wall and raised a hand to her lips, biting her thumb. Ignoring the pain from her wounded digit, she swiped the blood across her hand and flashed through five hand seals, ending with Rat.

"Kuchiyose no Jutsu!" As she shouted those words, she slammed her bloody palm into the hospital floor. In a puff of white smoke, a small purple snail appeared, quivering strangely. She grinned and set her palm on the floor next to it, letting it climb up into her hand. As it wiggled and squirmed in her palm, she smiled grimly. This little slug was one of the more useful of his kind, possessing the unique traits of being able to identify and track a specific chakra source. And, thanks to the fact that each persons aura was unique, this little guy would track down the Yondaime for her.

She grabbed the crushed doll from where it lay on the floor and presented it to the slug, letting the purple invertebrate climb over it. It coated the doll in slime, and then absorbed the slick substance back into its body, no longer quivering. She grinned evilly; good, it had the taste of it. She set the slug back on the ground and watched as it seemed to jump and then glide across the floor at an astonishing pace. She had to jog to keep up with it, and several times she nearly lost sight of it when they rounded corners. As the odd duo sped through the halls, doctors and patients alike leapt with remarkable agility out of the way, evoking accidents throughout the hospital.

Finally, the slug slowed to a crawl, and then came to a stop outside of a plain door, bumping its purple head against the wooden portal. Tsunade came to a stop beside him, panting heavily but still grinning. 'Hah, looks like the blonde brat is trapped, now! That's a broom closet!' She smirked as she thought to herself, knowing that Arashi's doom was nigh.

"Hey, get out of there, you little blonde bastard! I'm gonna kick your sorry ass!" She paused for a moment, waiting for a reply of some kind, but there was none. "I meant it! Get your ass out here!" Crickets chirped loudly, filling the silence. "NOW!" Again, not a peep from within the closet. Finally, Tsunade had had enough. Cracking her knuckles, she reared back and slammed her fist into the door, disintegrating it into a shower of wooden splinters. She took a step forward and slammed her fist into Arashi's face, driving the blonde Hokage against the wall.

As the blonde body hit the wall and slid slowly down it, she grinned and twisted her neck from side to side filling the small room with the sound of popping joints. "It's time for supper, Arashi-kun!" She spoke sweetly, honey dripping from her words like poison. "What would you like? A knuckle sandwich, perhaps? It comes with a free helping of whoop-ass, fresh from the can." She strode arrogantly over to the blonde man, watching him go limp with terror. She laughed as she… Wait a moment. He's far too limp to be living. Tsunade gasped in horror and knelt beside the man, who was sprawled face-down on the floor. She nudged his arm with a foot, and it moved with no resistance. She gasped again and backed away, blood draining from her face. She thought frantically, 'Oh, no! I've killed the Fourth Hokage! Oh, Kami, what do I do now!'

She knelt on the floor and felt tears pooling in her eyes, dripping out onto the floor. Her mind was filled with thoughts of her loved ones, her precious Nawaki, and her lover, Dan. She saw their dead faces pass before her eyes and felt the bile rise in her throat. Had she killed again? Had she stood by helplessly as yet another man died, blood soaking her useless hands? She shook her head and crawled forward towards the corpse, green chakra enveloping her hands. No, she would save him! He couldn't be dead yet, merely unconscious! Yes, that's it! Unconscious! Not dead at all, oh no! She giggled a little hysterically and grabbed his shoulders roughly, turning him over. As he flipped onto his back, blood drained from her face once more, and her jaw went slack in astonishment.

She had slain a scarecrow. There, lying on the ground in Arashi's clothes, was a straw man. On his head was a blonde, spiky wig, and on his face was scribbled the facsimile of a grinning face, with a little chibi version of Arashi sketched onto its stomach. She felt her fear and sorrow drain away, quickly replaced by immeasurable rage. She threw her head back and roared out in fury, "ARASHIIIIII!!!"

Just down the hallway from her, the object of her fury chuckled softly, pleased to see that his prank had worked so well. He got up and lazily stretched his legs, working the kinks out of his body, before turning and striding down the hallway. Before long, he was outside, and he grinned as he felt the sun beat down on him. But, now was no time to be enjoying the sunlight; he had a jutsu to learn, and a seal to modify.

Calmly he leaned against the wall of the hospital, closing his eyes to increase his concentration. Then, casting his chakra about in a wide field, he found what he was looking for. Searching for the correct distortion in the chakra, he latched onto it and concentrated, summoning his chakra into effect. Suddenly, there was an instant sensation of movement, and a blinding flash of yellow light, and he was gone.

On the far side of the village, deep in the civilian district of the ninja village, was a large, but dilapidated apartment building. It was an old structure, and was in very poor shape; the sides of it bore graffiti and many of the windows were cracked, not to mention the condition of the paint job. But, as poor and broken down as the outside of it looked, it was one of the best buildings in Konoha. Why, you ask? Because this building has been the home of many a famous ninja, those who were too frugal, or sometimes too stupid, to get a better abode. One such ninja was the Yondaime Hokage, who was currently gazing at it with a fond look in his eyes.

A lopsided smirk graced his lips as his azure orbs flicked to and fro, examining every inch of the building. Yes, there were the nicks in the wall from his first set of kunai. And there, just under that broken window, were the monograms he and his best friend, Sakaki, had carved into the plaster. Turning himself about, he gazed in nostalgia at the large tree that grew in one corner of the yard, remembering the time one of the Inuzuka's dogs had chased him up it. He shook his head in fond remembrance; those were good times. Good times.

Blinking a few times, he derailed his trip down Memory Lane and got his mind back on track. Turning about, he strode purposefully towards the battered wooden door, stopping for a moment in front of it. He glared at it for a moment, wondering just what the hell he was doing. He was a ninja, for Kami's sake, and he was damned if he would climb the stairs like some civilian! Turning away from the door, he gathered chakra to the soles of his feet and jumped, planting his feet on the wall. Grinning slightly, he strode nonchalantly up the wall, hands in his pockets. Soon, he had reached the top floor, and he examined the windows quickly. No, not that one. No. It couldn't be that one. Ah! He smirked in triumph, having finally found the correct window. Using all of his considerable skill, he crept up to the window and crouched against the wall, peering inside.

At first, he was distracted. The sheer majesty of his room nearly bowled him over, since the walls and ceiling were painted orange. Not just any orange, but so-bright-it's-like-looking-into-a-goddamn-searchlight orange. However, once one's eyes adjusted to the sheer luminosity of the color, one could see, swirling beautifully through the orange, delicate black spirals, which looped and curled throughout the entire room. But, as awe-inspiring as it was to Arashi, his gaze was directed at his futon. Or, more specifically, the person currently using it as a bed.

With the ease of long years of practice, he quickly jimmied the catch of the window and opened it just enough, so he could squeeze his lithe body through the opening. Once he was inside, legs and all, he softly closed the window and stood up, brushing the dust off his pants. But his eyes had never left the sleeping occupant of the room, and now he softly stole up to the futon, gazing down at her. For, indeed, it was a her, her eyes closed in deep slumber. Almost worshipfully, the Fourth knelt down next to her and stared at her, his eyes wide open and scanning, as if to memorize every curve of her body.

And he was justified in his choice. The woman looked to be of some twenty years old, with long red hair that fanned beatifically over her shoulders. Her body was smooth and her skin was soft, yet she was also nicely tanned, and wiry muscles could be seen outlined in her arms and legs. But, it was her face that really struck Arashi speechless. He loved the slope of her nose, the graceful curve of her jaw, the way she wrinkled her nose as she inhaled, the way her ears twitched every so often, the way she was glaring at him… He frowned and played back that last comment. Then, a realization struck him the same time as her fist, and he flew back and landed rather roughly on his ass.

"Hey, blondie! Stop staring at me when I'm trying to sleep!" He felt his bruised jaw and gave her a stupid grin, causing her to snort in amusement.

"My bad, my dearest Kara-chan! I was just lost in the beauty that is you, drowning in the sea of my love for you! I was overflowing with such feelin-" His speech was cut short by a well-aimed blanket, which coiled about his face like some sort of squid made of cloth.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever! Just shut up already, ya damn moron!" She yawned and muttered grumpily to herself about blonde idiots, and managed to get herself into a sitting position. For a long moment, Yomue Karada simply sat and watched the greatest shinobi of their time match wits against a blanket, and was amused by the fact that he seemed to be losing. After stretching her tired arms and legs, she got up and walked slowly over to him. Once she was next to him, he ceased his struggles, and the blanket-covered head turned in her direction, taking on a rather pleading air. She sighed and seized the top of the blanket, yanking it off him in a single, vicious pull.

Now free from his prison of fabric, Arashi turned his gaze back to her and gazed at her with adoring eyes. "Ah, my sweet Kara-chan! As always, your gentle touch has set me free from the darkest of dungeons, liberated me from the bondage of my despair!"

She sighed and stalked back to the futon, sitting on it heavily. "The only thing I freed around here was your spiky head from a goddamn blanket. Keep talking, and I may just 'liberate' your balls, got it?" Arashi, after a momentary flicker of nervousness, displayed that courage that he was renowned for.

"Oh! That sweet, gentle voice! Speak once again, my crimson-haired angel, and fill my world with beauty and birdsong!" He leaned towards her, cupping a hand to his ear as if to hear better. Karada snorted, leaning lazily against the futon.

"How about I fill your world with pain, instead? That's much more fun!" Arashi's worshipful look faded away, replaced by a look of genuine affection.

"Maybe for you, Kara-chan, but I don't think it's all it's cracked up to be, personally." His voice, no longer melodramatic and forceful, was now quiet and calm. He up and strode over to the futon, sitting himself beside her. She glanced at him with a smirk and leaned into his shoulder, allowing him to put his arm about her.

"Bah, you're no fun. I bet that brat Ebisu wouldn't mind." Arashi chuckled, thinking of his perverted subordinate. Although he was a gifted Chuunin, Ebisu had made the tactical blunder of ogling Karada's assets. That was a mistake, as he was soon introduced to her knuckles in a rather painful manner.

"That, my dear, is because he'd already be unconscious from the nosebleed." She chuckled, snuggling closer to him.

"Yeah, you're right. So, care to tell me just where the hell you've been the past couple of days?" Arashi flinched and loosened his hold a little, causing her to glance up at him in concern.

"I've been going over reports." She frowned at this answer, obviously confused.

"Reports? Since when have those kept you out for two days in a row?" Arashi looked at her, now even more confused.

"Huh? You mean you don't know? Where have you been the past few days?" She stared at him, her eyes wide and a little frightened.

"I've been here, gorging myself on ice-cream and the like. Oh, by the way, you need to restock." Arashi nodded, accepting Karada's appetite as a force of nature in its size and force.

"Okay, but that's not important right now. Listen." He told her of the sighting of the Kyuubi, and all the reports he had received on its progress. He told her of Sarutobi coming out of retirement to help him, and the recent arrival of Jiraiya. And, through it all, her trained shinobi mind calmly digested and considered all these facts with careful ease. Once he had finished, she nodded slowly, going over all the pertinent facts in her head.

"Hmm… The Kyuubi no Yoko… After all these years, why has it come now? And at a time like this, when you're still fresh in the office?" Arashi shook his head.

"Not a clue. The world may never know. But, now that I've satisfied your curiosity, how about sating mine? How's the kid?" She glanced at him in confusion, not understanding the question at first. Then, she blushed and laid a hand on her stomach, which was swollen and bloated.

"He's fine. Tsunade came by and took a look a couple of days ago, when she first came to town." Arashi smiled, happy to hear the news. On impulse, he reached over and poked her stomach gingerly with his index finger, provoking a little yelp from Karada. "Hey, don't poke me, jackass!" He chuckled and withdrew his finger, wrapping his hand around one of hers.

"Sorry. It's just hard to believe it, sometimes. I mean, my kid is in there, no doubt already planning to kick ass and take names. It's just so… mind-boggling, I guess. Damn… can the world stand two of me?" She chuckled and pulled her hand away, using it to give him a small noogie.

"Whatever, blondie. Deflate that ego of yours, or I'll use a kunai and do it myself. Besides, he's my kid too, remember." Arashi made a little scoff of disbelief.

"Psh, yeah, right. We both know that he's gonna be exactly like me. After all, you couldn't have him without me, could you?"

"Oh, wanna bet, buster? If you're gonna be like that, than you get to sleep on the couch tonight!"

"Ah HAH! We both sleep on the couch, anyways!"

"Fine, then, you can sleep on the floor!"

"Not likely! Remember, my dearest love, this is my apartment! Got the deed and everything."

"Heh, maybe it was. I've taken over!"

"You can't do that!"

"WATCH ME, DIPSHIT!"

Arashi, sensing that he would lose yet another deep philosophical argument, used his weapon of last resort. Turning towards his girlfriend, he pouted his lips and gazed deep into her eyes, his own azure orbs wide and twinkling with unshed tears. In short: 'puppy dog eyes, Arashi style'.

She tried to hold her ground, to stand strong, to screw her eyes shut and look away. But the lure of the eyes were just too strong, and she felt her will give way. Her shoulders slumping in defeat, she bowed her head and acknowledged his victory. After a quick crow of triumph, Arashi swooped down and raised her head, planting a passionate kiss on her lips. A long, long moment later, they separated and grinned at each other, before she once more relaxed into his arms.

As the Yondaime Hokage sat with his loved one, he remembered the time he had first laid eyes on her. He had first met her over a year ago, back after Kakashi had become Jounin, and Obito had passed away. Rin had left to join the medic corps, and Arashi was told that he was chosen to be the next Hokage. He had protested the choice, but Sarutobi had insisted, and had also demanded a bodyguard for Arashi until after the inauguration. Arashi had argued, and had managed to push it down from a full platoon of ANBU to merely one bodyguard. Sarutobi had obviously foreseen this discussion, for he had already picked out the lone bodyguard.

Now, as Arashi looked back, it was obvious the old man had been playing matchmaker. But, at the time, he had been so damn annoyed at having a bodyguard that he barely noticed the attractive ANBU captain that stood before him. He had, once again, insisted that he needed no bodyguard, but Sarutobi had drawn the line, dismissing him. For the next month, he went nowhere without his bodyguard. When he tried to escape her, she would invariably find him again. Over time, he developed an admiration for her tracking ability, and this soon turned into a physical attraction. After the first month had passed, he finally began to speak to her, getting to know her.

He chuckled as he thought of how she had reacted. At first, she was stiff and formal, treating the Hokage-to-be with nothing but respect. But, over time, he had finally convinced her that formality was not an issue with him, and she began to be herself. He soon learned that she was haughty, coarse, rude, and extremely intolerant of perverts in any form. He had also learned that he loved her for those same faults.

Before the next month was out, they were actively dating, masking their relationship with her usual role of bodyguard. The only ones who noticed anything out of the ordinary were those close to Arashi, such as Sarutobi, Jiraiya, and Kakashi. Jiraiya had even gone so far as to ask them if they had done 'it', with a knowing wink and a friendly nudge. Of course, Karada had returned the favor with a little nudge of her own, giving the perverted hermit a beautiful black eye. But, despite the interruptions of his sensei, they grew closer and closer. Before two months were out, they were desperately in love, and Sarutobi chuckled in semi-perverted triumph every time he saw them. That is, until that fateful day.

Apparently, news of the Sandaime's choice had leaked, due to the carelessness of some unknown ANBU. All Arashi knew is that the ambush came out of nowhere, when he had least expected it. They had come in the night, three Rock ninjas. They were incredibly skilled, having snuck into the village using some kind of Doton Kekkei Genkai. They had snuck into the room so quietly that Arashi had not even awoken, not until it was too late. Without warning, one of the intruders had raised a small blowgun to his lips and shot a small, poisoned dart at Arashi's sleeping form. But Karada had been awake, lying naked beside him in the bed. She had thrown herself over his body, taking the needle in the small of her back. Her scream had roused Arashi, who had seen the needle shining in the moonlight, seen the Rock ninja realize their blunder.

In a flash of yellow, it was over, and three decapitated heads were falling from severed necks, spraying dark blood across the floor. But none of that mattered to Arashi, because he had seen Karada fall to the ground, her face ashen pale and her lips parted in a silent scream. In a flash, he had gathered her up and used his trademark jutsu, appearing at Konoha General hospital in a burst of golden light. Not caring for their nakedness, he had rushed inside, where a tired Tsunade was finishing up some paperwork for the night. With a single appraising look, she had understood the problem immediately and swept the table clean of her paperwork, making room for Karada's agonized body.

It had been a quick removal, as Tsunade had been desperate to get the poison out of her system before it did any further damage. But, as she learned later, it had not been quick enough. The poison had been a particularly nasty kind, meant to ride the bloodstream into the organs and corrode them from the inside out. Luckily, he had gotten there before too much damage had been done, but the poison had still had enough time to permanently injure her lungs and heart, weakening them to the extent that she could no longer continue her career as a ninja. But the worst damage of all was in her womb; the poison had hit her ovaries with a vengeance. Tsunade had done all she could, but she had sadly told the worried Arashi that she could no longer give birth.

The next month had been terrible. Karada had recovered quickly enough, but she took the loss of her children hard, having always wanted to have a family some day. That chance had been stolen from her, and Arashi felt that it was entirely his fault. She resigned her position as a kunoichi of the village, due to the weak condition of her heart and lungs. He was going to join her, but she put her foot down, insisting that he remain a part of the shinobi world. Again, he considered her resignation to be his doing, but she had managed to convince him otherwise, and before the month was out they were mostly back to their old selves.

Then, two months later, Arashi was given some of the biggest news of his life: Karada was pregnant! Tsunade, who was getting ready to leave the village on one of her gambling runs, had inspected her and pronounced herself amazed, but overjoyed to tell them that the baby was developing nicely. Karada was positively glowing with happiness, and Arashi felt the same way, especially after the baby was developed enough for Tsunade to tell that it was a boy. The next few months were bliss for him, with occasional interruptions whenever Karada was suffering from the classic downsides of pregnancy. He winced a little in remembrance. Okay, maybe more than just occasional interruptions, but they made it through them in one piece. And now, nearly nine months later, she was slated to give birth in less than two weeks.

He smiled and tightened his grip on her, feeling her respond with her own loving touch. But, even as he felt happiness spread through him, he felt a blemish in it: the knowledge that she may not be alive to have the child in two weeks, the fact that they might all be dead in a week. The demon fox would have to be dealt with, and soon. There must be some way to destroy him, some way to force him to leave. Some way… He felt the constant wakefulness of the past few days taking its toll on him, and he began to drift off to sleep. He laid his head against hers, letting his blonde locks tangle with her crimson tresses, and he fell fast asleep.

Karada was deep in thought, albeit about a much different topic than her lover. She was thinking of the Kyuubi, of how to defeat it. She didn't know much about it, other than the obvious stuff, such as the fact it was a bigass fox with nine tails. But, no matter how big it was, it had to have some sort of weakness. Even if her body was weak, her mind was still as sharp as ever, and she put all of her considerable intelligence to work on this task, determined to find a way to rid their village of this nine-tailed menace. But, even as she began to think, she felt Arashi lean his head against hers, effectively distracting her from what she was doing. Not three seconds later, she heard a soft snore coming from the blonde Hokage, and she smiled softly. She decided that, since he was already asleep, she might as well join him. Cupping his cheek softly with her hand, she leaned against him and closed her eyes, letting sleep carry her away.

The night passed without incident, and the following morning Arashi woke to find himself on the futon, side by side with his lover. Slowly disentangling himself from her still sleeping form, he got up and strode softly to the bathroom door. Opening it with a minimum of noise, he ensconced himself within the sanctuary and slid the door shut, flicking on the lights. The lights buzzed loudly with the trademark hum of fluorescent lights just turning on, and winced as the noise assailed his sensitive ears. It died away quickly, but not quick enough for Arashi, who was afraid the 'loud noise' had awakened the sleeping Karada. Luckily for him, not a peep came from the neighboring room, and he allowed himself a brief sigh of relief. After all, even though he loved Karada with all he had, she was a holy terror when roused.

Turning towards a mirror that covered half of a wall, he glanced in frustration at his hair. The accumulation of several days of grease had affected it in no uncertain fashion, and the tips of his blonde spikes seemed to be as hard as kunai. He grinned, watching his mirror image copy him; it was shower time. Hastily climbing out of his clothes, he hopped into the small shower stall and flipped it on, repressing a scream as a cascade of cold water drenched him. Quickly, he turned the knob that controlled the temperature, but the damage had already been done, and he was wide awake now. As the water began to warm, he felt muscles that were sore from sleeping upright begin to relax, and he stretched out his arms and legs with every sign of enjoyment.

Soon, the water was at just the right temperature: hot, but not scalding. Seizing the soap, he began to lather it about his body, whistling a merry tune. But, as he began to apply the suds to his stomach, he paused in thought, staring strangely at his bellybutton. He realized that, unless an alternative presented itself, he would place a greater demon within some poor kid's stomach. He rubbed his belly gingerly, imagining what the seal would look like. As his thoughts turned towards the sealing and the Kyuubi, his good mood left him, and he finished the rest of his shower in a brooding silence.

Shutting off the water and letting the remaining liquid slide off him, he stepped out of the shower stall, standing on a soft rug that soaked up what water was still dripping from his body. Reaching to his left, he snagged a towel off a nearby stand and began to dry himself, rubbing his face and his hair especially. But, suddenly, he stopped, setting the towel down on the sink. He looked ahead, staring at the mirror, which was fogged by the steam from his shower. Reaching out to it, he extended an index finger and began to drag the tip of it across the mirror, sketching a rough drawing.

He drew a stick figure, first. Giving it a spiky hairdo, he grinned as he imagined himself in its place. But, then his smile fled once more, and he began another drawing. This one was far more detailed, and roughly depicted a giant fox with nine tails. Of course, the fox's body was an oval, its head a triangle, and its tails were mere wavy lines, but he was a ninja, not an artist. For a moment, he pulled his hand away, staring with sad eyes at his two figures. Then, in a quick movement, he slammed his finger into the glass and drew a spiral, dragging the curves of it through both of the figures. Staring at his destroyed creations, he turned away and staggered a few feet to his right, hands groping blindly. He finally slumped onto the seat of his toilet, which was, luckily, down; otherwise he would have received another shower.

Leaning forward, he set his head in his heads and felt the sadness wash over him. He knew it now. Well, he had known it then, too, but now he was no longer rejecting it. He was going to die, and he had no choice in the matter. He thought of his stick figures, and the spiral that had ripped through both of them. Yes, he was caught in a spiral, a whirlpool which would lead to his destruction. He would die, and the demon would be imprisoned forever. And… And… A sob ripped out of him, and his fingers dug into his skull. And his son would be the instrument of his downfall.

As that thought went through him, he couldn't hold back the flood any longer. The tears and sorrow that he had bottled away for the past few days were all breaking loose, tearing out of his body in great, heaving sobs. He felt weak and powerless, unable to defeat this demon with anything less than that terrible, terrible last resort. He would have to sacrifice his soul, and the life of his child, for the sake of a monster! All of this, because that damned fox had chosen to attack his village! It was destroying his life, threatening his village, killing his subordinates! It was him the demon was truly attacking, constantly harrying him to and fro, until the only way to save what was precious to him was to sacrifice his life.

Suddenly, the sobs stopped, and he lifted his head out of his hands with a startled look on his face. No, no! He was wrong! He was thinking about this in the wrong way! He was not the demon's true victim! It was his son, his precious child, that was the true victim. For the thousandth time, he wondered what his boy would be like, wondered if he'd love to prank, wondered if he'd be smart, wondered if he'd be an obnoxious brat like his mother or a carefree joker like his father. Arashi felt sorrow flood him again as he imagined the face of the boy he would never see, the face of the child that would carry on his name and legacy. He would never get the chance to see him grow, see him become strong, see him make his father proud. But he would never get that chance. He was robbed of it by the Kyuubi. It was stolen from him by the Kyuubi. Taken away by the Kyuubi. Obliterated… BY THE KYUUBI!

In an instant, his sorrow was replaced by rage, and he focused all his mind on the Kyuubi, swearing to destroy it, even if it took him a thousand years in a thousand hells. His chakra began to flare, which caught his attention, and he tried to calm himself down. Finally, after a few minutes of struggling, he managed to put a lid over his anger; but he still felt it simmering, boiling deep within him like a font of wrath. Seizing his towel once more, he ferociously dried off what liquid still remained on him and wrapped it about his waist. Opening the door, he stepped into the living room and closed it again, feeling the stare of his lover piercing deep into him.

"What's wrong?" He smiled a little, recognizing that voice. It was the voice he had grown to love; all business, yet with a touch of true caring. He turned and gave Karada a cheerful grin that did not extend to his eyes.

"Nothing, my dear Kara-chan! Why do you ask?" Turning away from her, he paced quickly over to his dresser and opened the top drawer, rummaging through the clothes within. Even as he withdrew a set of red boxers, he heard a scoff of disbelief.

"Whatever, numskull. I wasn't born yesterday, ya know. I think half the village felt that chakra flare, even though I didn't need such an obvious clue to figure it out." Arashi sighed and nodded morosely, dropping his towel and pulling on his boxers before turning to seek more attire. It would not do for the Hokage to appear in public wearing little more than a set of red boxers.

"As always, I am as transparent as glass to you." Another moment of rummaging uncovered a tank top and mesh under-armor, and he compared them side by side, wondering which one would be better.

"The tank top makes you look sexy." He chuckled at this piece of sage advice and donned the apparel, tossing the other one to the floor. But Karada was not done with him yet. "So, Mr. Glass. Care to tell me just what's bugging you?" Arashi sighed and turned away from his dresser, walking over to his closet and pulling it open.

"It's nothing, Kara. Don't worry about it, okay?" She frowned as she watched him leaf through pants, not liking the note of depression hidden in his voice.

"Arashi. Look at me." He turned towards her, his azure orbs meeting her green ones. Her voice was low and trembling, her eyes staring deep into his with incredible intensity. "Are you all right?" He bit his lip and looked away, not bearing to meet her eyes. Dammit, he hadn't wanted to tell her. Not until she was ready… but he shook his head glumly. That was foolish thinking, she wouldn't be any more ready later than she was now. He turned away again, turning his attention back to his pants.

"It's… hard to explain."

"Try. Please. It kills me to see you like this." Her entreaty broke the last of his resistance, and he gave way. Reaching blindly out and seizing a pair of pants, he fingered the soft material with his hands, struggling with his nervousness. Then, swallowing his fear, he told her.

"I… I can't kill the Kyuubi." There was a gasp of shock from behind her, but he kept going, not daring to stop when he wasn't sure he could start again. "Nothing can. He's the greatest demon to ever roam the earth, and a true immortal. No matter how much damage we do to him, no matter how much we try, he cannot die. Cannot. And now… now I know why…" His voice trailed away, and he swallowed again, trying to wet his dried throat.

From behind him, Karada's voice was hushed and slightly terrified. "W-Why? Why can't he die?" He sighed again, mechanically putting on his pants, buttoning and securing them with an ease developed from years of practice.

"Because… he's no regular demon. He's a force of nature." He stopped again, seizing a jounin flak jacket from where it hung and putting it on, zipping it up quickly. From behind him, the confused Karada was trying to puzzle out exactly what he meant. After a long pause, he knew she didn't understand, and elaborated. "Can you kill the wind? Can you destroy fire? No. No matter what, it lives on in one form or another. Kyuubi is the exact same way." He leaned forward and rested his head against the wall, using a hand to cushion it. "I had one of my most trusted Jounin's, Sakaki, obtain a sample of the demon's fur. He brought it back for analysis two days ago, and when we had it checked…" His voice trailed away, and Karada found herself growing more and more horrified.

"What did you find when you checked?" Arashi sighed, turning to slump against the wall with his back, still not meeting her eyes.

"His fur was like nothing we had ever seen before. It was a living fusion of elements: fire and earth. The Kyuubi's body is made from the earth itself, and we could no sooner destroy it than we could destroy the earth. As long as fire and earth remain, the Kyuubi will remain." He slowly slid down the wall, until he was squatting with all of his weight pressed against it. "Just to be sure, I sent our fastest messenger bird to Sunagakure, asking them for details on what happened when Shukaku was defeated."

He pointed at the dresser he had just been at, drawing her attention to a slim scroll that lay on its varnished surface. "They sent me everything. The way they were able to defeat the Ichibi was by driving it into the ocean. Once it was soaked by the water and greatly weakened, they were able to defeat it and seal its spirit away into a pot of some kind." He shook his head, remembering how hopeful he had been when he heard this news. As expected, Karada interrupted him, her voice filled with hope.

"So, all we have to do is use wind and water against the Kyuubi! Since he's made from earth and fire, we can use his elemental opposites to weaken him until we can seal..." But, even as her voice faded away, he was shaking his head bitterly.

"That's what I thought, at first. But then I had a look at a few geological reports from the Shodaime's time. Turns out that this country is called Fire country for a good reason. Running throughout most of this country, especially around our area, is a vast system of volcanic magma, from the time when this country was nothing more than ash and volcanoes. That supplies the Kyuubi with plenty of fire, and earth is in good supply these days, what with the ground and all." Arashi's voice was starting to get cynical, using sarcasm and satire in his speech. Karada shuddered as she heard him speak; he only spoke like this when he was super depressed, and she wasn't sure how to help him out of it.

Arashi let himself slide off the wall, landing on the floor in a sprawl. Spread-eagling himself, he closed his eyes in surrender. It was hopeless. There was no chance for them to defeat the Kyuubi. Not without… But he couldn't tell her yet. But he had to tell her. But… His thoughts were interrupted by Karada, who had swooped down on him and wrapped her arms about him. He reached up with his arms, and soon they were entwined on the floor, nose to nose, simply staring into one another's eyes.

"What can I do to help you, Arashi-kun?" The suffix made him chuckle and smile. It wasn't often that she used that term, as she was not fond of remembering that she was twenty six, whereas her blonde lover was merely twenty three. She always complained that it made her feel old, and Arashi would always reply that he would be sure to visit her in the old folk's home next year. But, even so, it remained a term of endearment that she reserved for special times, times when she was ready to lay her life down for him on his whim. Whenever he needed her the most, she was there, ready and willing to help. He felt a tear streak down his cheek, which she gently wiped away, kissing him softly on the lips.

For a long moment, he hesitated, not wanting to tell her. But, she had to know. Screwing up every ounce of courage in his body, he told her. "The only way I can defeat the Kyuubi… is to seal away his spirit. But, with a demon of this strength, no earthly seal will work against him. There is only one thing I can do, one last resort. The Shiki Fuujin." She frowned, not knowing the jutsu, but not liking the sound of the name.

"What's the Shiki Fuujin? It doesn't sound like any seal I know…" Arashi closed his eyes, sighing wearily.

"That's because it's not one that's ever been used before. The Shodaime developed the basis for it, but never completed it, deeming it too dangerous to be used, even as a last resort. But, I found it a few months ago, and I've been working on it for a while. I've finally finished it, and I'm going to use it against the Kyuubi." He stopped talking, but she frowned anxiously.

"Okay, but you still haven't answered my question. Just what does this seal do?" Arashi looked away, not daring to meet her eyes.

"It… summons the Shinigami." She gasped in horror, but he kept talking. "The God of Death will take the Kyuubi's soul from his body, which will give me a chance to seal it. Normally, it would just devour the soul, but the Kyuubi can't die, so it is unable to die that way. But, by preparing a seal to be used in conjunction with the Shiki Fuujin, I can safely seal the demon away. But…" His voice died away, and this time he wasn't able to continue speaking. But Karada had understood, and her face was pale.

"But… if you use it… you die… Am I right?" He nodded silently, unable to say a word. For a long, long moment, there was complete silence. Then, she spoke, her voice soft and trembling. "Arashi-kun. Is there no other way?" He shook his head, and she was quiet again for another long pause. Then, silent tears streaming down her face, she laid her head into his chest. "Then… it has to be done." He nodded morosely, tears trickling down his cheeks as well as he pulled her closer.

But, then a realization struck her, something she remembered from long ago. Pulling away from Arashi, she stared at him with something akin to horror in her eyes. "Wait a moment! We can't seal away a demon as powerful as the Kyuubi! We don't have a container that can hold it! Unless…" Her voice died away in a gasp, but the look of sadness in his eyes confirmed her suspicions.

"Yes. We… We have to use a person to seal him away. Not just any person, but a newborn baby." For a long moment, she processed this information. Then, abject terror shone in her eyes and she pulled away from him, her arms held protectively over the bulge in her stomach.

"You can't be… No, not him! Why does it have to be him! I won't let you! I won't…" Her protesting voice died away quickly, and her head drooped, the tears flowing freely. Arashi sat up next to her and cupped her chin, raising her head and looking her in the eye.

"There is no other way. Believe me, I have looked and looked, but there is nothing! Nothing at all!" His voice turned harsh and bitter for a moment, and then he shunted it away, becoming himself once more. But his comment only made her weep harder, and she hugged herself tightly.

"But… Why… My only child… Our only child… I can't lose both of you, Arashi… I just can't…" He gasped in horror, realizing what she thought.

"NO! No, no, no, no! Oh, sweet Kami, never! I'd rather die myself a thousand times over than lose him, Kara!" She stared at him with shock and hope mixed in her face.

"You mean… he won't die?" Arashi shook his head vigorously, trying to encourage that hope.

"Yes! That's right, he'll be just fine! I promise you, Kara dearest, not a hair on his undoubtedly blonde head will be harmed." She chuckled, a spark of life returning to her eyes.

"Just you wait. He'll be red-haired and beautiful, just like his mother. The world couldn't stand two people with such a terrible hair color." They smiled tearfully at one another and kissed passionately, each trying to express their love for the other. When they finally broke apart, the tears were gone from her face, and he smiled as he kissed her cheek softly.

"Thank you, my darling. I need you to be strong. After I'm gone, our little one will need his mother for strength. I know I can count on you, my crimson-haired angel." She smiled and snagged his chin with her hand, pressing her mouth hard against his. When they finally parted for air, she gave him a smile full of confidence and brash arrogance, that smile that reminded him every time he saw it why he loved her like he did.

"Of course you can. Now, you get your ass in gear and go help out the old geezer. He's probably freaking out, now that he has to deal with all the paperwork again."

"Hah, you're probably right. I'll be back soon, my love. Be well." She waved him off, and he slammed his hands together into a quick hand seal, disappearing in a flash of yellow light. After he was gone, she stood up and brushed the dust off her clothes, walking back over to the futon. Sitting herself down, she buried her head in her hands and began to cry in great, wracking sobs, letting all the pain and sadness out. Arashi was going to die, and she couldn't do anything about it. But, even though the pain from that was horrible, there was another, greater pain, that stemmed from the mighty power that is maternal love.

Remembering what Tsunade had told her, what she was too afraid to tell Arashi, her crying increased exponentially. She hated hiding something like this from him, but, even if he knew, there was nothing he could do. Sobbing, she thought of her child within her womb, wondering how he would feel if he knew what she knew. What would he say if he knew that he would soon be losing both parents?

---

AN: Okay, it's me again. Just going to clarify a few things. Firstly, this is, inherently, a Naruto centric fanfic, but it'll be centered around the Fourth until the time Naruto starts getting closer to twelve, or maybe when he graduates. So, for all you Naruto-lovers or Yondaime-haters, just bear with me. Naruto will take the spotlight soon enough. And, as always, remember that this is a story about what would happen with Naruto had the Fourth lived and the Third died, not a story about the Fourth. That's for a different fic, folks.

Secondly, there might be some confusion about what I did with the Shiki Fuujin. I am a little confused about it myself, so I came up with what I described in the story. The reason for my confusion is that it's specifically stated that the Yondaime made the jutsu, yet information on it is found in the scroll of the First Hokage. Anybody who knows the answer, feel free to correct me, but I don't think I'll change it. I kinda like what I made up!

Thirdly, and most importantly, this fic is not meant to be overly romantic or dramatic. I might have gotten a wee bit carried away with the drama stuff in the second half of this chapter, but I'm trying to accurately portray the kind of hell the Yondaime had to go through prior to actually performing the jutsu. After all, I loves me my character development.

Remember, people: please review! I'd love to hear your comments and criticisms. If you have suggestions on what the pairings for this story would be, I'd be happy to listen, but I still make the final decisions. After all, he who writeth the fic can do whatever he jolly well wants.

Gaereth