(WARNING: DARK THEMES)

Dream n

1. sequence of mental images during sleep: a sequence of images that appear involuntarily to the mind of somebody who is sleeping, often a mixture of real and imaginary characters, places, and events

2. daydream: A series of images, usually pleasant ones, that pass through the mind of somebody who is awake

3. something hoped for: something that somebody hopes, longs, or is ambitious for, usually something difficult to attain or far removed from present circumstances

4. Idle hope: an idea or hope that is impractical or unlikely ever to be realized

5. Vague state: a state of inattention owing to preoccupation with thoughts or fantasies

Walks around in a dream

6. Something beautiful: somebody or something that seems particularly good-looking or wonderful

- - - - - - - - - ~TTM~ - - - - - - - - -

Chapter 4
Tribute to Dreams

You frown. Another dream.

The water laps against your ankles, and you curl your toes against the bitter chill. Goosebumps crawl up your skin but you smile anyway, a small kind of smile that makes your face muscles groan in protest.

Step. Step.

Your footsteps echo eerily in the background, and you can't shake off the claustrophobic feel that weighs over your head (lingering at the back of your mind like a death sentence). Long used to the sensation, you don't let it bother you, and your glowing eyes quickly adjust to the dim light. It was too dark to see clearly, only enough light to see your face reflecting in the water's surface, (You see your smile, almost disturbing in its form, and you try harder) but your steps are quick and confident.

Step. Step.

And you continue on. (If only to get this over with)

Step.

Your hands sink into your pockets as you walk, the epitome of nonchalant. (But your muscles are tense, and your smile has become strained. The hair on the back of your neck is standing on end, and it's only now that you realize that your heartbeat was nonexistent. You blink once. How strange.)

Suddenly, off in the distance, a baby giggles.

You stop, swaying slightly in the water, before walking again. 'It's just a dream,' you repeat to even in a dream, the sound of a baby's laughter sends shocks through your body, like fingernails raking up and down your spine. Your smile widens marginally, and your eyes curl up into two identical half-circles.

A female voice is cooing gently. The baby sighs happily, and the seemingly innocent sound slams into your ears with the force of a hurricane.

("I want to wake up now.")

Step. Step.

Suddenly, the female voice laughs gleefully.

(A wide smile. "No.")

The baby screams.

You freeze, eyes snapping open, and your restarted heart beats loudly in your eardrums. An unexplainable, reckless surge of protective instinct flares in you, but slowly, painfully, you unclench your fists inside your pockets and attempt another smile. You succeed, mostly, but, looking down at the water, it doesn't reach your eyes.

(A smirk. "Smile, human.")

The baby continues to scream. The sound dwindles in its intensity before abruptly rising again for a split second. Then it repeats. Somewhere in your mind, the soldier part of you recognizes the sound of one screaming as he was being stabbed repeatedly over and over again.

You numbly wonder why it wasn't dead yet.

It's just a dream.

You make the mistake to look down, and see the once clear water has turned a murky pink, tiny silk threads of red weaving into the water. Blood. Unwillingly, your eyes follow the trail down to your left. All the while, your restraint starts to break down. (Breaking.. breaking down…)

The screaming was dwindling again, but this time it faded into a pained gurgle, as if the baby was choking on blood. The female voice was making shhh-ing sounds, tender and affectionate. A red haze is slowly infecting your vision and you blink furiously.

Silent, you don't make a single sound. The only sign that you want to rage and scream at this woman, to kill Her for daring to use this form of mental torture, is the blood dripping down your chin. Your teeth had at some point bitten through your tongue, and you turn your head to spit it out, the strong, metallic taste lingering in your mouth.

And then, just as quiet as it came, the gurgling -choking, it's fading-

..stops.

Death is natural. A cruel, ironic, commonplace part of this.. realm. (Yet) You feel sick. Your world is tilting distorting suffocating silence dizzy pain pain pain all in a dusty, red -why, why, always red- burning dying. You feel sick.

"Oyasuminasai, (Good night) Naruto-chan." The woman speaks quietly.

(I win.)

That voice…? Where had he heard it befor- Don't think. Don't think of her. No. Nonononono…

This is not happening. This is a dream. Your throat tight with denial, fingers aching to move. Tattoos on your arm glow feebly before dimming, and somewhere in your mind there is a quiet but resounding… click.

Kushina.

And you run.

You run faster than you've ever ran before. Fast enough that the soles on your feet begin to bleed, and your breathe comes in rapid bursts of air. You're sprinting now, faster than you've ever remembered going. (wrong) Your eyes dart across the water, following the red trails of blood into the darkness. Too frantic, too desperate, you don't notice that your heart wasn't beating anymore.

The scene you come to isn't what you expected.

There was a woman lying on her knees in the water, holding what appeared to be a bloodstained bundle in her arms. A woman with long, bright red hair wearing an equally red kimono. Your eyes drift almost impulsively onto the bundle; it was originally a bright orange, but blood had dyed it a sick red that dripped rhythmically onto the water.

You close your eyes, struggling to keep your calm, but not quickly enough to notice one last detail:

The red-haired woman is carrying a red-stained kunai in her right hand.

She doesn't seem to notice you at first, too busy whispering lullabies into the dead baby's ears. You don't open your eyes when you watch as she wore a tender, motherly expression on her face as she lovingly strokes its cold, pale, cheek.

The world is grey and black and red in the background, burnt into nonexistence. All that mattered was that tiny little bundle of death, as if it was the only thing that existed in this (realm) world. And you can't breathe because it's - he's - dead, and you want to fucking die.

The woman finally takes notice of you, straightening up and letting the bloodstained bundle fall from her arms, seemingly not even caring as the dead bundle rolls onto the ground, half-covered in the water (abandoned).

Your eyes follow the movement.

She limps towards you drunkenly, one arm reaching out for you while the other half-raising the kunai in the air.

You don't look at the corpse. You don't-

The baby's eyes are wide open in death, a scream frozen on its icy blue lips. Unseeing blue eyes stare accusingly at you. The once orange blanket covers most of the infant's mangled body, but the very smell of it, the very stench of death, paralyzes you.

Eyes screwed shut, you look away in mid-turn.

The sound of metal dropping into the water with a splash. (The kunai drops from her limp, bloodied fingers.)

Cold, cold arms wrap unexpectedly around you from behind, and icy breathe, like an arctic breeze, fans the skin of the back of your neck (goosebumps). Surprised, you take in a deep breathe through gritted teeth, (the scent of pomegranates) eyes snapping open and staring down at the water's surface.

(Screaming, raging, clawing-)

Blue eyes stare back at you (shocked, screaming…?) but your gaze is set on the red-haired woman's face. You take in her shadowy violet irises, like a dark, ripe plum, her porcelain face, pale and cold, but something is different, something-

"Aishiteru," she whispers into your ear. I love you.

You close your eyes again, the words like a physical blow. Pain. Like a kunai digging, twisting into your heart-

You cough up blood.

Eyes crack open slowly (eyelids suddenly heavy. No matter how hard you tried you couldn't muster the strength to open them fully). A hand, - bloodied fingers, dripping with gore and stretched widely apart, as if still reaching in vain for something she couldn't find - there was a hand sticking out of your chest.

Chakra-concentrated fingers sink into your back, cutting through bone and flesh, piercing through your heart and emerging-

The hand rips out of your body with a vicious, quick tug. Your knees buckle, and you fall into the water, numb.

(Damn you.)

The water is blossoming red. Mind reeling in agony, your gaze focuses blurrily on Kushina's face. She stares back at you with emotionless eyes. Her face is impassive, a blank slate to the world, refusing to show a single shred of emotionless. Still, you search her desperately for something, anything, but her expression remained cold and ruthless.

She leans down, cupping your cheek with the same tender care she used on the infant. You blink slowly, breathless and a numb feeling infecting your chest as her hand trails down your face, leaving a long smear of blood down your jaw line. She releases her touch.

"Aishiteru," she whispers again. One eternity of a moment, as she simply stares, her eyes tracing your features as if wanting to embed them into memory.

And then she kisses you, slow and lingering and passionate and desperate and leaving a coppery taste on your lips.

(Damn you…)

Her hand dunks into the water, and Kushina picks up the kunai knife again, the metal shining. Holding the kunai in both hands, she smiles. Something like déjà vu hits you (Why were you smiling?) but before you could wonder why, she raises the kunai and slits her throat in one quick motion.

You could only watch, breathless, as she falls down next to you, large, violet orbs staring blankly at you with that same heart-wrenching smile hovering on her lips. Dead.

(Damn you…!)

Silence fills the air, heavy and foreboding, the only sound being the ragged, painful breathe escaping your blood-smeared lips as you suck in the very last bits of oxygen you'll ever have. Through the dull ache pounding in your mind, and your world spinning as the blood flows free from your body, is an empty feeling that lodges itself into your chest.

Everyone was dead. (failuredefeatanguish) And as you lie down there, blue eyes fading (fading), and surrounded by the departed, you realize that you were going next.

(She smiles cruelly-)

Th-thump.

- - - - - - - - - ~TTM~ - - - - - - - - -

Raidyn woke up, drenched in sweat and blood seeping in his mouth from where he bit his tongue. Blurry blue eyes scanned the room as it tilted left and right dangerously. The moment he regained his equilibrium, he dashed to the washroom and spat out the liquid into the sink. (-leaving a coppery taste on your lips.)

He turned on the tap, and stared for a moment as the water drained away the blood, dazed. Blue eyes flickered to his reflection in the mirror, and Raidyn was momentarily surprised. His eyebrows were furrowed and his mouth set into a frown. Dark bags rested heavily under his eyes, contrasting clearly with his pale skin. (-ave to stay awake-)

But that wasn't what surprised him. There, on top of his head were three single strands of white hair, easily seen with the mass of raven black hair in the background. Raidyn lifted his hand to gently grab them, rubbing them thoughtfully with two fingers.

Suddenly, his eyes narrowed as he looked more closely at the strands. What he previously thought was white hair was actually-

Blonde.

Now thoroughly (relieved) alarmed, Raidyn began inspecting the rest of his head of hair, but his hair was the same, inky black it was when he first woke up on that day in the desert. He roughly pulled the blonde strands out, letting them fall to the floor.

Raidyn feels suddenly dizzy, goosebumps rising on his skin, and he retreated back into bed.

These dreams would normally scare someone. These flashes he kept having would normally scare someone. Oddly enough, he wasn't concerned. He just wasn't the type of person to dwell on these things.

He just ignored it all.

("-inasai, Naruto-chan.")

Raidyn took a deep breathe and pushed all disturbing thoughts out of his mind before closing his eyes.

The next day, he wouldn't remember his dream.

- - - - - - - - - ~TTM~ - - - - - - - - -

Raidyn was totally, and utterly insane.

It has been a total of three weeks since Raidyn has been staying at their house, and nearly a month since he's been in Suna. And so far, Kankuro has had mixed feelings about their new 'guest.'

Living with Raidyn was an odd experience.

Kankuro knew Raidyn was a spy, he didn't believe in all this memory loss crap, but even as a spy, Raidyn was a very peculiar man.

For one, he rarely came out of his room. A suspicious notion at first, but security cameras shown that all he did was either stand around poking the wall for kami knows what reason, or sleeping with the occasional nightmare. Likewise, the security sealings placed around his room didn't report anything out of place.

And then, when he did come out of his room, it was to drift silently across the halls to his destination and then back up again to his room. On some rare occasions, something would pick up his interest and he would stand there staring at, say, a family photo or a bowl of fruit for hours on end, utterly fascinated.

Every so often Kankuro would actually forget the man was there only to be reminded by a vague motion out of the corner of his eye.

It just didn't make any sense. All these eccentric habits, his emotionless expressions that would rival an ANBU, and the nightmares. Kami, the nightmares. According to Temari, nightmares were common in amnesiac patients, but what he saw that night, and the following nights, reminded him, scarily enough, of Gaara.

No spy could possible act out while asleep.

And Kankuro comes back to his first and final conclusion: Raidyn was totally, and utterly insane.

Well, for a spy.

Recently, however, something has changed. Or maybe not recently, but the change was so slow over the days that he hardly noticed it until now. Two weeks ago, Raidyn's eyes would dart everywhere, as if he wanted to drink in everything he saw, but now they were steady, and staring, an almost… hardened look in them.

He would stare mostly out the window now, one hand forever drumming against the sandstone, out to the sky, the horizon, everywhere except the desert. During those hours, he would look… disturbed. Impatient. Restless.

So in the end, since it was beyond frustrating and impossible to be mad at the 'insane, amnesiac guy,' and kind of pathetic the way Raidyn kept drifting around the house with nothing to do, Kankuro decided to go ahead and do something incredibly uncharacteristic.

It was late morning, the red Suna sun starting to rise high in the sky, and the sunrays peaking brightly through the unadorned window, reflecting off all the smooth surfaces in the kitchen and forcing Kankuro to draw shut the window curtains. The sky was clear and a light dusty shade of blue, not a single speck of white in the horizon. Overall, it promised a scorching hot afternoon.

All the three residents of the house were in the kitchen: Temari was pouring over mission reports, a cup of green tea in one hand an ink brush in the other, Raidyn was sipping his tea slowly, almost cautiously, a now familiar detached expression on his face, and Kankuro was scrounging around in the fridge.

We're out of eggs… Kankuro thought irritably. He closed the fridge door more harder than necessary, earning a dark look from his sister, and went over to the cabinets for some cereal instead. Suddenly, his hand frozen on a box of oat flakes, a plan forming into his mind. The situation was perfect, and, glancing inconspicuously at Raidyn, Kankuro cleared his throat.

"We're out of eggs," Kankuro repeated out loud. Temari grunted, not paying attention. He continued, "I'm gonna go to the market, maybe get some other things we need." Another grunt.

Trying to appear as casual as he could, Kankuro shrugged into his sandals, heading for the door. He passed by Raidyn on the table, still sipping his tea, the cup not even half finished yet.

"It'll be a lot to carry. Want to come with?" Kankuro said flatly, jerked his head in Raidyn's direction.

There was a sudden choking sound, as Temari choked on her tea. Kankuro wasn't surprised, that was probably the most civil thing he had ever said to Raidyn in, well, ever. Mentally sighing in defeat, Kankuro took off his sandals, and just in time too, as Temari dragged Kankuro out of the room. Raidyn looked up for a total of 1.7 seconds before returning to his tea, unfazed.

Temari looked back in the direction cautiously before turning her attention back at him, a glare clear on her face.

"What are you doing, Kankuro?" She hissed, green eyes flashing dangerously.

It was times like these that Kankuro was abruptly reminded about who exactly was the oldest in the family.

"Nothing really," Kankuro replied, shifting uneasily. "I was just thinking… Haven't you noticed that Raidyn has been drifting around the house? He isn't going to recover his memory like this, and it's more likely that he'll remember something walking around Suna…" he trailed off at Temari's dubious expression, and decided to switch tactics. "It would be easier to observe the guy's behaviour in public, Temari. I might catch something off."

Temari face changed into understanding, and Kankuro felt a brief stab of indignation that his sister didn't believe him to be capable of compassion. He wasn't that heartless.

"We need to discuss these things before you start babbling your head off," Temari argued, annoyed. But Kankruo read in between the lines. If Temari was already at the 'tell me before you do something stupid like this' stage, then he had won the battle.

Kankuro relaxed. "I'll try to remember next time," he drawled. Not waiting for a response, Kankuro turned sharply around to head back into the kitchen.

"Kankuro."

He paused, and turned his head back, not quite managing to hide the impatience in his face.

"What now?"

"… be careful, idiot."

Surprised, all Kankuro managed to reply back was a single grunt before he resumed walking.

So his sister wasn't as stupid as he thought. Even with that frustrating crush she had on Raidyn, she still understood how potentially dangerous he was. Raidyn could be an enemy shinobi, spying in Suna territory for risky information about their army defences, the negotiation between Sound and Sand, or even worse, about Gaara, and she understood. Thank Kami for that, he had thought she was going soft.

Raidyn was in exactly the same position he was when they had first left the room. Burrowing any suspicion he had, Kankuro slipped back on his sandals and pushed open the door. He blinked momentarily at the sudden glare of the sun, before ducking his head back inside. Much to his impatience, Raidyn hadn't moved yet.

Kankuro's eye twitched. "Well? Are you coming or not?!"

Unperturbed, Raidyn stared back at Kankuro, an unexpected guarded expression on his face. A thousand different emotions flashed in those blue eyes, too quickly for Kankuro to recognize clearly, and agitation shot through him. Was he going to say no?

To his relief, he didn't.

"…Alright," Raidyn said carefully.

Setting down his cup of tea as carefully as he could onto the table, Raidyn stood up before sauntering over to his side. Kankuro noted with some bemusement how careful Raidyn walked so that he wouldn't step on the cracks on the tiled floor.

A week ago, Kankuro would've stared openly at such a sight, but now he just chucked it all up to Raidyn being his wacky, insane self.

Oblivious to Kankuro's thoughts, Raidyn put on his borrowed shinobi sandals, absentmindedly flaking off some of the dried mud that had settled on it weeks ago, and stood up.

"Let's go." Raidyn said, brushing past Kankuro and stepped out of the door, his suddenly hasty footsteps quickly leaving Kankuro behind. Peeved, Kankuro hurried after him.

Maybe this wasn't a good idea after all.

- - - - - - - - - ~TTM~ - - - - - - - - - -

Miles away in a rundown teashop, two figures were taking up a corner of the shop.

At first glance, the first figure had an unremarkable aura in him, and the sort of forgettable face that one might pass by in the town marketplace. However there was something about the way he held himself, muscles tense and alert, like a tiger waiting to spring on its prey, and his brown eyes, the suspicious and wary look in them as they darted around the room, that suggested otherwise.

The other figure was the more eccentric-looking of the two. A man of his fifties, with a surprisingly burly built, and calloused, slightly tanned skin. While not 'handsome,' the man had rugged good looks; something about his dark eyes, mischievous and self-confident, and the two bold red lines that ran down from his eyes that added to his appeal.

The most striking feature of this man's appearance was his hair. A shocking mess of pure, snow white hair, with spiky, straight locks flying everywhere as if a bizarre, albino porcupine had nestled onto the man's head. Lastly, it was long, extremely long, as if it hasn't been cut in years, because even when tied up, the long white strands fell down in spiky layers to his knees.

This man's name was Jiraiya, the toad sannin.

Who was currently bored out of his mind.

"There's some new gossip about Suna nowadays. Rumour has it that there's this really stupid spy in Suna claiming total amnesia."

"Really?" Jiraiya drawled, not even bothering to mask his disinterest.

It's been quiet recently. Orochimaru hasn't made any moves, and seemed to have disappeared just a few months ago. Kami, he was bored. Even writing porn can be monotonous over time, and if his contact doesn't have any interesting information… Well, he might have to go to Konohagakure of all places, just for the hell of it. Hey, wait, wasn't Rin living somewhere nearby? Maybe he could go visit her, maybe say hello for the first time in, er, years. Last time he saw her, the gaki was doing pretty well…

The man smirked confidently, gaining Jiraiya's immediate attention and breaking him out of his thoughts. There was more?

"Also…" The man took a long drag out of tea before deliberately pouring himself another cup, clearly taking his time. Jiraiya burrowed his impatience, and motioned vaguely for the man to continue. He did.

"There's been a recent update from our contact in Sound…" he trailed off, and glanced around suspiciously through the empty teashop, his dark eyes lingering on the lone waitress, who was peering at the two curiously. He continued in a softer, more urgent tone, "Sunagakure is negotiating an alliance with the Sound."

Jiraiya's first reaction was to grin widely, slap the man on the back, and storm out of the teashop, cackling madly. (He never liked tea anyway). However, he managed to suppress the urge; it wouldn't do to lose his composure in front of his contact.

"I see…" Jiraiya nodded sagely, a hand reaching up to subtly cover the smirk that threatened to poke through of his self-control. "Is that it?" he added coolly.

The man nodded uncertainly, no doubt seeing the maniacal glint in Jiraiya's eye.

"Hmm.. Alright then. I should, uh, get going now…"

"W-wait!" The man exclaimed suddenly, his arm twitching as if it wanting to reach out and grab him. Colour crept up the man's cheeks, and he ducked his head. "My.. You haven't forgotten my.." he muttered, his voice almost inaudible.

A smug grin broke across Jiraiya's face. "Of course, of course. How could I forget?" he said in a sing-song voice. The sannin reached into his pocket and pulled out a single orange book, which he tossed almost casually to the man. The informant snatched it out of the air feverishly, and began stroking it with the care one would use with a newborn child.

At the other end of the teashop, the waitress spluttered indignantly upon spotting the orange book, and returned to her duties with a huff.

"The 'secret ending' of Icha Icha paradise, never released to the public. Enjoy," Jiraiya grinned. The grin grew seeing that the man was too absorbed in the book to pay attention.

It's nice to know that my work is appreciated. Jiraiya thought happily, standing up from the table.

A moment later, Jiraiya walked out of the teashop, a gleam in his eyes that wasn't there when he first entered. Once he was sure that nobody was around, Jiraiya let out the grin he had suppressed. Finally. Something worthwhile to research. All this tranquility had made him restless.

However..

Jiraiya's face darkened. This new information was vaguely disturbing. What was the Sand doing in an alliance with the Sound, a relatively new - and weak - village?

He knew one thing: he was only wasting time with speculation. What he needed was information. And he knew the one place where he could find it.

Suna.

-

-

-

-

-

"Damn you..!" I scream.

The Shinigami laughs cruelly, am

used at my anguish.

"Let's play again sometime, yellow-chan. Maybe then, you'll actually win."

A/N (sry if it's a tad long..)

Word Count: 5305

Oyasuminasai - good night

Aishiteru - I love you (only used in serious situations)

Gaki - kid

Yeah! That's right people, I'M BACK! I knew that writing Weather-Beaten would help me. Just two days ago, a TTM muse hit me with the force of a jackhammer, and soon I was typing like crazy. I have no idea how it happened, but I'm really glad it has.

Also, I tweaked the ending a bit, so I'm estimating this story to be around.. 30 chapters long at most. UGH.

This chapter took so damn long to write. I had to redo it twice, and rewrite a lot of parts. Even now, I'm not totally satisfied with it. :/ Sorry if this chapter seems a bit short/not much development, but if I included the market scene, then this chapter would be 14 pages long instead of 9...

The Dream:

I enjoyed writing the dream. I told you that I would write gore. 'Sides, I like gore :) It's fun to write. Even the baby killing parts. :D

Any constructive criticism is welcomed with opened arms. ^^

~L. Syrup

PS: this is completely irrelevant to my story but I just recently discovered this amazing Naruto fanfic and an equally amazing author called "These Are All Things You Don't Understand" by Novocain.

It's M-rated for 'very extreme darkness such as pedophilia, prostitution, complete psychological mindfuckery and rather explicit sex.' And I absolutely LOVE it! :D It's a Minato/Kakashi fic for those wondering. But the writing style is just so dark and gritty and I highly recommend those who can stomach the content to read it.