A/N: This chapter was extremely enjoyable to write... everything just kind of flowed well and became what you see now with minimal revisions. Can anybody say "turning point"?

-xXx- The Revenant Scroll -xXx-

(Act II, Scene I: "Forbidden gates yawn open...)

Rapid footsteps clacked loudly against the hard stone. Servants turned at the sound only to catch a glimpse of a sprinting white-robed figure disappearing further down the hall. Tapestries fluttered and candles guttered at his passage. He skidded to a stop before a heavy wooden door and yanked it open. "Haeru'Darisu!" Neji stalked into the younger man's room and ripped the heavy blankets from the bed.

It was empty. Neji whirled around to see Taro emerge from the bathroom, wiping his hands with a towel. "Neji-sama," he greeted with no small amount of surprise, turning to throw the thick towel back into the bathroom.

The next moment he was suspended by his shirt collar several centimeters above the floor, his back to the wall. "Wha–?!"

"Where is she?" Neji cut him off roughly, nearly nose to nose with the unfortunate boy. "Where has he taken Tenten?"

"What?" Taro coughed and slapped at Neji's arms. "Unhand me, rogue!"

As Neji dropped him unceremoniously to the ground, Taro shakily smoothed his robes, assuming the voice of command one would expect from a prince. "What are you talking about? Speak plainly!"

"Your brother is a vampire, and he's taken Tenten somewhere." Shoving his hands in his pockets, Neji paced the room without apology. "Where is he?"

"You assume that mine brother shares such information with me?"

Neji wheeled on him, suspicion coloring his voice. "You're taking this extremely calmly."

"Shall I cower in fear at thy realization? Shall I express disbelief at a secret passed down in mine family for generation after generation?" Taro rose to his feet and fixed his white shirt. "I had always suspected, but I could never confirm. This sparrow's wings are constantly buffeted by the winds of filial and sibling relations, yet he still attempts flight alone!"

"Then tell me about the scroll we stole from him."

Taro froze. "Scroll?"

"Yes. We used it to defeat a creature made of Chakra-infused blood." In terse words, Neji described their encounter with the creature and the results of their brief skirmish with Ichiru.

Face growing longer with each word, Taro nodded several times but didn't interrupt, listening carefully until Neji was finished. "Aye, the scroll..." he whispered, steepling his fingers and pressing them to his lips. "Aye, now all becomes clear..."

"What do you mean?" Neji stopped his pacing and stared hard at the young man.

As if coming to a sudden decision, Taro abruptly rose to his feet and opened a desk drawer, shoving aside pieces of parchment. Ink bottles clattered against each other as he pulled various writing instruments from the drawer, discarding them on the floor until it lay empty. Gingerly, he lifted a false compartment in the bottom and removed a rusty key ring. "Come with me," was all he said grimly.

Neji followed him from the room and down several corridors. Stopping before an unadorned wooden door, Taro reached up and removed a torch. Lighting it from a piece of flint scraped against the wall, he unlocked the door and silently beckoned for Neji to follow.

Taro unlocked several doors with the rusty keys, each of which led to a steep, winding stairwell and long, empty halls. On his way down, Neji noted the construction was that in reverse of most older castles; indeed, it was reversed from the rest of the keep he'd been in previously. Most winding stairwells were built so that if an invading army were to ascend them, their sword arms would be cramped by the inner wall, while the defending force would have their hands free; in essence, the stairs wound to the right. These hidden stairs wound to the left... as if not so much to defend an army coming from the bottom up, but from the top down.

"Down here is what you seek." Without hesitation, Taro unlocked the final door. The heavy wood scraped against the stone it was set upon, but the hinges made not the slightest sound. Swinging ponderously open, it waited, yawning yet more stairs before them.

Neji moved to stand before him at the head of the stairs, staring down. These were not curved like the rest, but instead extended straight down before them. Barely visible at the bottom was the flickering light of another torch. "Let's go."

"Aye," Taro whispered, adjusting his grip on the torch. "Oblivion has accepted our welcome." Swinging the torch like a bat, a sharp thunk resounded through the empty corridor.

Without a sound, Neji crumpled to the ground. Taro dropped the torch and rolled him over, opening his eyelids forcibly and staring into the unseeing white eyes. "Alas, I apologize, friend," he murmured, laying his head on Neji's chest to hear the sound of his heartbeat. "This is how it must be."

Grabbing his limp body under both arms, Taro dragged him to the head of the stairs and pushed him down. Limbs flailing like a rag doll, Neji landed in a heap at the bottom. Running down the stairs, the young man shook his ebony hair from his eyes and grabbed Neji's arms again, dragging him into the room where Ichiru sat before a heavy wooden desk, studying several aged manuscripts by the light of a handful of torches scattered around the room. The walls were lined with books, their yellowed pages all but spilling out. A long table stood alone in the center, and many, many doors lined the only shelf-less wall.

"Little brother?" The daimyo dropped the piece of parchment he was examining and stood, stalking over with green eyes wide. "What have you done, you fool?!" Spit flew from his lips as he shoved Taro back and knelt at the body with a flourish, black robes flying around him.

"I want you to use him," Taro announced as Ichiru rolled the body over so he could see its face. "Release the lady ninja and take him instead."

"Fool!" In one smooth motion Ichiru stood and backhanded the younger man across the face, eyes flashing with rage. Taro stumbled back, hands pressed to his cheek in shock. "What have you done?"

"He's not dead!" Eyes wide in confusion, Taro pointed. "You need a live body for the ritual."

"What ritual are you talking about?" Ichiru raised his hand as if to hit him again. "I am doing nothing of the sort! I don't have Tenten, you fool!"

Taro froze, mouth moving silently for a moment. "W...what?" he managed finally. "Then what...?"

"She used the scroll." Voice bitter, Ichiru pulled away and slapped his hand against the desk, jarring a few loose sheets of parchment. "We are soon to have war on our hands, little brother." He dropped heavily into the chair before the desk, resting his head in his hands. "Lay him on the table," he said finally. "Gently. He may be one of our last hopes now."

Shoulders slumped, Taro stood motionless. "All I wanted..." he murmured quietly, ducking his head so his hair fell over his eyes, "was to have my brother back. I don't like what you've become. That's all I wanted."

Ichiru didn't answer.

The younger boy hefted Neji's body on the table and stared at morosely. "I'm sorry, friend," he muttered though none could hear. Taro awkwardly crossed the room and sat clutching his knees to his chest at the very edge of the torchlight, the flickering flame casting his face half in shadow so that all could be seen were his emerald eyes, glimmering with unshed tears.

The same shade of striking green poured relentlessly over parchment after parchment as Ichiru discarded first one, then another and another until in a fit of frustration he swept the entire pile to the floor. Papers fluttered and settled quietly on the floor. The young daimyo of the Land of Wood turned in his chair and examined the shelves surrounding him, gnawing restlessly at the base knuckle of his thumb. Coming to a decision, he rose to his feet and approached one of the shelves opposite the table where Taro had laid Neji's body, hand outstretched to remove a tightly bound leather volume.

The torch guttered and went out. Ichiru froze and turned slowly in a complete circle, green eyes ponderously shifting to red as his eyesight adjusted. Wisps of ebony darker than the lightless air drifted slowly through the room.

"Ichiru?"

"Silence!" he hissed as Taro's voice broke through the heavy silence and cut the air with his hand to emphasize. His mouth throbbed painfully as he spoke, the ebony tendrils and darkness arousing the instinct within him like a sexual pleasure. The moon was nearly dark, and though it was still midday he could sense its invisible presence above, its power filtering into his veins. His breath quickened as he scented blood, and he groaned at the feeling. "Get out of here!" he whispered roughly. "Taro, get out!"

"But–!"

"Listen to me, little brother!" Ichiru's voice rasped like gravel as he glared in his direction. "I don't want you under my curse. You still have your innocence! Get out!" Fighting his instinct, he raised his hand to his mouth, grimacing as his fangs sank deeply into his flesh where thumb met palm. He waited until he heard Taro's footsteps scrambling up the stairs and the door slam shut behind him before wrenching his hand free and greedily running his tongue along the blood that trickled slowly from the deep puncture wounds.

"So sad the state you've succumbed to," a mocking female voice penetrated the room. A heart wrenching, sickeningly familiar presence materialized, and Ichiru whirled.

"Takada-sama." Allowing himself one final leisurely lick, Ichiru let his hand drop and dipped into a low bow before the ebony silhouette he could perceive before him, clad in a thin, flowing dress. "You come as sudden as the wind and as unwanted as the snow."

Without response, he heard her cross the room and felt more than saw her raise her hand to the torch. A whispered word from her, and it reignited brighter than before. The quick flare illuminated the scene, and Ichiru's breath caught in his throat.

A smug smile crossing her face, Tenten stepped forward and returned his bow. "Ichiru. This body has some... interesting memories of you."

"What can I say, my lady? You've chosen a beautiful host this time around." His blood trickled slowly to the floor, but with difficulty he ignored it and smiled ingratiatingly. "Much better than your previous form. Almost irresistible."

"Almost?" she echoed, raising a slender eyebrow.

He bowed again. "You are the one wearing it. Something... used... always has less value."

Tenten laughed, a deep, mellow chuckle her vocal cords could never have managed normally. One of her eyes flashed golden in sharp contrast to the chocolate brown of the other as she faced him fully. "You amuse me, Ichiru." Her white dress swirled around her bare feet as she approached him with small, deceptively delicate steps until they were mere centimeters apart. Slowly, she took his sluggishly bleeding hand and raised it to her mouth; closing her eyes, she licked the crimson fluid from his skin. Exhaling deeply, Tenten moaned and sucked the last droplet of blood from his fingertips before letting his hand fall to his side. Lips painted red, she sucked thoughtfully on her lower lip.

"You've only been feeding on livestock." Disappointment was clear in her voice as she pouted with childlike displeasure. "And corpses. How repugnant. Did you at least kill them yourself?"

"Oh no, Takada-sama... I leave the killing to you."

"You've been feeding on my prey?" Tenten wiped her lips and spat at his feet. "You've sunk low, Ichiru."

"Waste not." His fangs gleamed in his grin.

She sniffed and took a step back, reaching into her dress and pulling from beneath its cut a simple scroll, its outer surface caked in a dark brown stain Ichiru easily recognized as dried blood. "Regardless of your actions, the scroll is now mine."

"I can tell. You're not just an old hag who would look half-dead even were she not."

Tenten bared her teeth and hissed. "I shall take what is rightfully mine!" she shrieked, voice shrill for only a moment before calming. "With this body I have more power than even you could dream of."

"Takada-sama, you know nothing of my dreams." Ichiru's eyes flashed, and he swooped forward in one swift motion to seize her lips with his own, tasting his own blood. Even as his lips caressed her skin, she disappeared into smoke and ash.

"Farewell, Ichiru!" her voice echoed weirdly as the torch flickered as if it might go out. "The next time we meet, it shall not be as civil!"

"Indeed not." Distaste colored his voice as he shook the last drops of blood from his fingertips, surveying the space she'd recently vacated with a sort of wistful melancholy. Pulling a red silk handkerchief from his pocket, Ichiru bound his hand and pulled the knot tight with his teeth, no longer fangs but now the simple teeth of an ordinary human.

Cold steel whispered across his throat, and he sucked in a breath as the kunai caressed his skin. Turning as far around as he dared, feeling the blade scrape his neck, he saw ivory eyes glaring colder than the winter wind outside. "Neji-san," he greeted cautiously, dropping his hand to his side.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill you." Standing warily as far away as possible, Neji stood easily behind him, grip tightening on the kunai.

Ichiru raised his hand as if to push the blade away, but hesitated as his grip tightened further warningly. "How long have you been consciousness?"

"Long enough," he growled, eyes flashing. "What have you done to her?"

"Your beautiful partner?" Ichiru breathed in calmly and exhaled. "Unfortunately, I did nothing to her. Nay, I'm afraid that you and she have become embroiled in something that I had intended to avoid."

"Explain." Cautiously Neji pulled the knife away and spun him around so he could see his face. "I will know if you lie, so save us both the trouble."

"My little brother." Ichiru nodded at the stairs leading to the level above. "Shall we send for him? I'd rather not do this twice."

"Go." Following close behind, Neji let him lead the way up the stairs and open the door. Taro sat with his back to the wall before it, a short sword clutched in both hands. He froze at the sight of Neji and hunched his shoulders.

Without a word, Ichiru beckoned. Waiting until they were secure in the room once again, he sat in the chair at the desk and rested his head in his hands, staring blankly into the candle-wax stained mahogany. "My story," he said finally. "My story starts six years ago, when, on my nineteenth birthday, I inherited the lordship of this keep and the entire Land of Wood."

Tears streamed from emerald eyes and dripped down his cheeks as he clutched the unforgiving stone bust atop the coffin. "Father..." he whispered softly, tracing the graven cheeks and biting his lip. Further down the row of tombs stood the tomb of his mother, buried five years earlier; he glanced at it and finally drew himself up, hearing the sound of echoing footsteps over the soft drip-drip of trickling water falling intermittently to the smooth stone ground.

"Ichiru-dono." One of his father's advisors approached and inclined his head in a subservient bow. "You are the lord of the keep now. The Land of Wood is yours."

"I don't want it!" Gesturing frantically, Ichiru turned away and fisted his tears away. Voice calming, he turned back and returned the other man's bow. "Forgive me."

"No, it is I who must apologize for disturbing you in your moment of grief." Again, the advisor bowed, lower than before. "However, there are matters that must be brought to your attention. We need you to assume lordship immediately and make decisions." Voice soft, he added, "The people are depending on you, my lord."

"I followed him, of course, with no knowledge of what becoming daimyo entitled. That was one of the last times I saw her... Takada-sama. We were... lovers, then."

It was a day of tears for everyone in the keep that day... some for the father, some for the son. Golden eyes rimmed red from crying, a dark-haired maiden dashed forward and buried her face in his chest, clutching the lapels of his black suit. The advisor coughed and moved to stand a polite distance away. Ichiru and Takada's relationship was no secret, yet it was something not discussed in civil company.

"I don't want you to go with him," she whispered hoarsely, soft enough so that Ichiru was the only one who could hear. "I've heard terrible rumors about what happens upon ascension to lordship! They say they'll turn you into a monster!"

Ichiru kissed her softly on the forehead. "Rumors are just that– rumors." He smiled sadly. "You are going to be the Lady of the Land of Wood... the wife of a daimyo. With my position, we can finally–"

"I don't care about any of that!" She pulled away angrily. "I just don't want you to change! Tell them you can't! Tell them you want to make Taro your heir, and assign a regent to take charge until then!"

"You know I can't do that." Ichiru moved a few steps back, expression chilling. "The people need me. The land is in turmoil; shinobi are thought to have been sighted at the border. It's only a matter of time before we're embroiled in this conflict."

"The Ninja War is over! The Land of Wood doesn't even have a hidden village!"

"That's why they need me all the more, Takada-sama." He extended his hand. "Please, come with me. You'll see for yourself."

"I should never have done that. I should never have allowed her to come with me. Then, perhaps, the truth would never have been revealed."

"This scroll contains the history and the power of the Land of Wood." Reverently, the advisor opened a box carved of dark jade set upon an altar in an otherwise bare room and removed a single scroll. "You will know what to do, Ichiru-dono. It is forbidden for any but the daimyo and his... relations... to view the paper. I shall be right outside." He bowed and left, closing the door behind him.

Without hesitation, Ichiru pulled open the scroll. Somewhere, somewhere far, far away, Takada screamed.

"I can't remember what I saw. I never can, when I gaze upon that scroll."

Ichiru opened his eyes with a strange sensation in his mouth, a warm, liquid feeling coating his teeth and dripping down his chin. His stomach muscles clenched, and his breath caught in his throat. He pulled back with a hoarse scream. Takada lay before him– more accurately, Takada's body, throat bitten almost clean through. Disbelievingly, Ichiru raised a hand to his mouth, feeling his canine teeth sharpened to a point.

"No. No, no, no NO!" Scrambling back on his hands and feet, Ichiru screamed. His vision blurred with sudden tears, and he shook his head frantically as if that would dismiss the illusion before him. He rolled over and retched, gagging on the sweet iron taste of her blood that at once disgusted and thrilled him in a way that made his stomach turn and his own blood boil. "This isn't happening. This isn't real! Get me out of here!"

His pleas fell upon deaf ears; sobbing, Ichiru flung himself against the emotionless door. "Taro... get my little brother away from this place!" Turning, he again beheld the sight of his lover, blood draining sluggishly onto the floor, barely trickling now that there was no heart to pump it. Hands trembling, he patted himself down until he pulled from an inner pocket of his suit a small dagger. Clutching the hilt in both hands, through his tear-veiled vision, it looked as though she were merely asleep.

"I wanted to die. At that very moment, all I wanted to do was stab myself in the belly and rip. It is a feeling I wake to... almost every day. There was, and still is, only one thing stopping me. The Land of Wood needed a daimyo. And you, little brother, were the next in line."

"Takada-sama..." Ichiru staggered across the room to her body. "Takada..." Casting his gaze about the featureless room, his eyes lighted upon the scroll sitting calmly atop its altar, impervious to the tragedy unfolding around it. Like a drowning man reaching for a last gasp of air, he snatched it and tore it open.

"All I remember is an overwhelming desire to resurrect her. To bring her back, no matter what the cost. No matter what the consequences. And the scroll... answered."

Before his eyes, a swirling fog of semi-translucent ebony formed above Takada's body. Motionless, the scroll fell forgotten from his limp hands and rolled up on the floor. Slowly, ponderously, the ebony fluid-gas took on the form of a face, the silhouette of a woman's face. From the depths of the floating mass of shadow, the face lunged at him and screamed.

Then it disappeared.

Ichiru rose to his feet and pulled a white silk handkerchief from his pocket. He wiped his mouth and chin, adjusted his suit, and bent to snatch the scroll from the floor. Staring at it for a long while, eventually he wrapped the bloody handkerchief around it and slipped it into his innermost pocket.

"Advisor?" Voice calm, Ichiru knocked on the heavy stone door and cracked it open, venturing into the adjacent hallway and closing the door tightly behind him. "I am finished."

The other man simply bowed. He did not comment on the screams, nor did he ask for Takada.

"There was nothing I could do. I had to live my life in secrecy... the smooth, sophisticated daimyo by day, the unstoppable weapon of nightmares by night." His voice was bitter as Ichiru concluded his narrative. "Takada-sama simply... disappeared. Or so I had thought. The scroll resurrected her, but... she is no longer human. She leaps from body to body as you or I might change outfits."

"Brother..." Taro whispered. His emerald eyes gleamed with unshed tears, but he made no move to brush them away.

Neji harshly jerked them back to the present. "Where do Tenten and I enter into your story?" The torchlight glimmered from his eyes, reflecting them as unmoved and cold.

"I've been researching." Almost a plea, Ichiru finally lifted his head to return Neji's stare. "That thing, that... revenant... that is no longer the Takada I loved. She is a mere shadow that hungers for the sensations she enjoyed in life, and will stop at nothing to achieve her goals. She is pure instinct." Almost subconsciously, he started to raise his hand to his mouth but arrested the motion and returned his hand to his lap, turning in his chair to face the younger man fully.

"I used the shinobi of Konohagakure in an attempt to draw her out, so you could do what I could not." His gaze did not waver. "I intended for you to discover her and lure her to the death I am too craven to release her back to."

A flaming bit of the torch broke free of the bracket and drifted to the floor, extinguishing upon contact.

After a moment's pause, Neji finally spoke. "How would one go about killing her?"

"More easily than killing me, I assure you." Ichiru drew in a deep, shuddering breath and closed his eyes. "The problem now, Neji-san, is how not to kill Tenten in the process."