Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or any Naruto characters portrayed in this fic.

A/N: And on to the final reveal of the murderer's identity!

The timeline of this story follows the time-skip, after Naruto develops the Fuuton Rasengan technique, but after that deviates from canon. Reviews and feedback appreciated!

PART 3: Reprisal

Chapter 15: Friends and Shadows (Part II)

Under their feet, roof tiles cracked, shattered and slid to the streets below, earning shocked cries from the few civilians out. Naruto had asked for no further explanation; there was not a trace of hesitation in his stride. Even now, he pulled ahead of Shikamaru, chakra skimming dangerously across the rooftops ahead of them, barely in check. The young chuunin knew, with the greatest certainty, that all he had had to do was mention Kakashi in danger. Naruto's neck was thrust precariously forward, shoulders taught, muscles wound beneath skin like coiled wire traps. Cursing slightly, Shikamaru sent a burst of chakra to his calves, knowing that as soon as the recovery centre came within their field of vision, the shinobi beside him might morph into something unstoppable, something wild.

To their left, the Hokage tower slid into view. It was just a little further. Glancing behind him, Shikamaru was relieved to see the ANBU team he had managed to signal before their precipitous take-off. Following at a measured distance, they covered ground in brief surges, Hawk in the lead.

"Naruto." Not expecting a reply, Shikamaru continued, voice low and firm. "We will protect Kakashi. You have to let me do what's necessary. I don't care if you trash the whole hospital, but whatever happens, you have to let me make an arrest. This is the only way we can get answers. This is the only way we'll know the truth."

He bit his lip, pain scoring up his leg as a fragment of metal from a drain slid across the side of his sandal. Naruto gave no discernible response, but Shikamaru could see from the tilt of the other's head that he had heard. Whether he agreed or not with the sentiments expressed remained to be seen. Shikamaru knew that whatever they would find at the hospital, Naruto would be making the pivotal decision. He took a breath, steeling himself for the role he could sense looming; a mediator in a maelstrom.

As always, it started with a glimmer of light, pale beyond the open lids, cut across by his lashes. Regaining consciousness was as familiar to Kakashi as the feel of Pakkun's fur beneath his fingers. There was a gentle current of air across his forearms, raising slight bumps along the exposed skin. There was a charge to the atmosphere, a scent of moss and freshly turned earth. It would rain soon. He remained still, breathing controlled. He could also detect the scent of blood, hanging thick and metallic in the air. Fresh.

There was someone here, beside him. Someone who had let the outside into his sterile little room.

Killing intent had been a part of his life for as long as Kakashi could remember. His father had been the first to show him how it felt, what it meant to be the hunter. He remembered Sakumo's tall, broad shouldered frame, the way his jawline tensed under the mask, the way his kunai-calloused hands had guided him to slash at the jugular of the trapped hare, her eyes rolling in thick animal terror. There was something relentless and beautiful in the predatory nature of death, even as it crept over his own father, swallowing him whole. Kakashi had always been prepared for something like this; one error, one fatal turn, one last gasp. A moment when he wouldn't be fast enough, strong enough to prevent the endless march he was privileged enough to call life.

But he had things to do, students to protect. Was his life really his own any more? He could lie here and accept the inevitable. That might even be wise. What right did he have here anyway, when Obito would never cross his arms and challenge him and Rin would never smile with such gentle warmth again?

But still his eyes snapped open. Still his fingers grew warm with latent chakra. His body would compel him to fight, instinctually, even when death yawned in an endless chasm beneath him. Death was beside him, breathing evenly, chakra still as an unfathomable ocean, even as the killing intent washed over him in a warm, crimson tide.

"Who are you?"

His voice sounded thinner than he would have liked.

"I am here to judge you."

"What for?"

"I think you know quite well, Kakashi-san."

A long silence filled the room, curling up in the empty spaces.

"Is this about Naruto?"

"Yes. Oh yes. Let's not pretend it could be about anything else."

"What do you want from me?"

"An admission, before you die. I would have liked the boy to have heard it. But I'd like to spare him the unnecessary pain."

"You think you'll spare him pain this way?"

"Don't think I have any illusions about that. You, her, that traitorous scum, this whole village. You're the ones who've brainwashed this sickening sense of loyalty into him. This need to be the saviour, the one who's forever pulling you all out of your darkness. What a lovely burden you've placed on him. No." The voice grew low and venomous and Kakashi felt a change in the air as it drew closer. "No, Kakashi. Death of a loved one he will come to terms with. Did you really think you could play house and be a father figure?"

There was a laugh, deep and chilly. "No, no. You've got it all mixed up. Proud, noble, broken Kakashi. Wrapped up in your own damaged brilliance. When was it that you started to feel guilt? When was it that you realized you had abandoned the son of the man who loved you like his own to such horror? Did you watch him, Kakashi? Did you see the way people looked at him? Threw things? Beat him? Abused him? Set his home on fire?"

There was another long silence and Kakashi could feel the other catch his breath, heard the subtle grinding of teeth. There was a very, very subtle shift in the chakra signatures of the room, one Kakashi knew from experience signaled a strong genjutsu being removed. The voice addressing him took on a new note, one querulous with age. "And where was I when all this was happening, you may ask. Rightly ask too, I suppose. Oh, I would have done it. I would have loved him like you never have. I wasn't allowed, you see. The laws of Konoha. Ha!" He was close now. So close Kakashi could smell the scent of old paper and leather. "The Hokage, no less, turned me down. It was the first thing I asked, you see. Sarutobi was a coward, just like you. He said secrecy was key and that the child should be kept isolated."

"Naruto is my student." Kakashi's voice was little more than a whisper, but carried enough weight that the other stopped to listen. "I have no answer for what's been done. I have no justification for it."

"So you admit that you're at fault, then?"

"Yes. I was weak when it mattered. I was broken, like you said. I could have done more and I didn't. That doesn't change the fact that Naruto . . . Naruto is . . ."

"Is that it?" Another mirthless chuckle. "The great Sharingan Kakashi can't even articulate his feelings over his own student?"

Careless, for a shinobi.

Kakashi's hand shot out from under the sheets, snatching away the kunai in the hand of the man hovering over his bedside. Muscles screaming in protest, he substituted in a quick flash of smoke, wincing as his awkward landing propelled the metal tray on the trolley behind him into the base of his spine. The room was spinning, the outline of the man on the other side of the bed growing foggier as he shook his head furiously to clear his vision.

"My, my. Still got so much fight in you." The confidence of the words belied how surprised the man had been. Kakashi knew he had taken him unawares with his emotional play-acting. ANBU had taught him well how others project emotions onto the victim.

"What are you going to do now, Kakashi? Seems like you're having some . . . difficulties."

The shinobi was baiting him. Kakashi knew there had to be a reason he hadn't attacked yet. A small, rueful smile creased the corners of his mask. Even now, exhausted and badly injured, the weight of his reputation was enough to keep his enemies wary. The man wanted him to make the first move, gauge how weak he actually was. Kakashi could play the waiting game as well as anyone.

But then there were distant sounds on the roof outside. He heard a voice, Naruto's voice, clear and ringing as a clarion call. His vision, gaining clarity by the second, was caught and held by the eyes of the man standing across the bed from him. The remnants of the genjutsu that had papered over his form, that of a tall, sturdy, Hawk-masked ANBU, fell away, revealing the reality beneath. The bloody, prone form of a young ANBU, mask-less, lay across the threshold, the gaping wound across his throat a ghastly mockery of his open mouth above. Kakashi's breath hitched painfully, his eyes wide.

"You - "

He had no time to complete his sentence. He watched the madness, the triumph, the fearlessness in the eyes of the other crush through the walls of reason and caution. The shinobi standing on the other side of the bed ripped open his coat and lifted his fingers into a seal that was all too familiar to Kakashi.

"NO! Naruto, get away! Ge -"

The explosion ripped through the walls of the hospital, shearing through concrete and metal, lifting them on a giant palm of compressed air and flinging them outwards. Shikamaru heard Naruto's wordless scream of horror as his own hands whipped through seals, the shadows arcing outwards and anchoring them in place behind a retaining wall with a jarring thud. Knees shaking, he took deep lungfuls of air, trying to keep his mind blank, trying so hard not to think but -

Flaming red, roiling chakra, corrosive as acid, burst from the shinobi beside him. Naruto's eyes were embers, his fingers elongating, sharpening, his body dropping to all fours, and he shrugged off Shikamaru's attempt to restrain him as if tossing water from his back.

"Naruto! No!"

He dodged the heavy fall of debris from a nearby concrete column and raced after the blonde shinobi, around whom threads of red and black were already coalescing. Hawk appeared to his right.

"Nara-san -"

"No, Hawk. Go. Go now and get reinforcements!"

Leaving the ANBU in his wake, he desperately flung himself after Naruto who seemed to be following some unerring homing instinct leading him to the origin of the explosion. Up ahead, the devastation grew much worse, much of the top floor having collapsed inwards. Shards of metal supports stood through the rubble like the ribs of a slaughtered animal. Naruto, without pause, skidded vertically upwards and began to leap from one strut to the next, making straight for a cratered indentation in what used to be the west wing of the recovery centre.

Here and there, buried beneath rubble, Shikamaru began to see signs of others who had been unfortunate enough to succumb to the force of the explosion. A bloody hand, a tattered lab coat, empty eyes and smears of undefinable nature, testament to the fragility of the human body. Bile rose in his throat and a cold hand clasped over his heart. He did not want to see what lay ahead. He did not want Naruto to see. And he was powerless to prevent the inevitable.

In the moments during which Kakashi's vision had cleared, he had seen the undeniable intention in the eyes of the other. He had also seen a vast emptiness, a void that stretched on and that seemed to draw him in the further he would stare. He had seen that look before, that dreadful, deathly smile moments before another comrade died in futility, in full knowledge of exactly how pitifully insignificant their life was in the larger scheme of things. He had seen many soldiers come home with that look too, the ones who volunteered for desk duty so that they wouldn't have to silently surrender to the festering inner darkness that would someday claim them.

Hardened as he was by the tragedy of war, to see this here, in this face, one that had once been so familiar to him, stunned him momentarily. This man had been there, by his side. By Minato's side, for many missions. He had been there when the Kyuubi had been unleashed, he had been screaming orders in his strident baritone, dauntless and indefatigable, right up until the shrapnel from a shattered metal shielding frame had sliced through his leg and flung him down into the trenches beside a young Kakashi. Kakashi remembered placing his hands over the pulsing gash, shouting for help from the harried medics as hot, thick viscosity poured through his fingers and the man beneath him began to convulse.

He had no time to register the meaning behind all of this. He had no time to question where this had come from or how this man even he had deferred to once, had devolved into this travesty of shinobi justice. The lines at the corners of the other shinobi's eyes lifted into deep creases as his horrific empty smile spread, the rough, wrinkled hands flipping aside the long coat to reveal a thick, army-issue belt set with three high power explosive tags. His hands moved up to make the seal of release and Kakashi shouted his warning, screamed it loud even as he flung the kunai and moved in the same instant.

The blade pierced the older shinobi's hand, earning a rough gasp as Kakashi appeared behind him, wrenching both hands away and twisting them in a solid grip behind him. Panting, the silver haired juunin placed one foot squarely on his opponent's back, wrenching downwards with his free hand as he tore the belt away and flung it outwards, towards the open window. There was a enraged shout from the man he was restraining and Kakashi let out a muffled grunt of agony as the other's skull impacted with the bridge of his nose, momentarily releasing the death grip he had on him.

"RELEASE!"

There was no time to think, no time to rationalize, no time to question what exactly he was doing and why as Kakashi performed a split second substitution while the detonated tags ignited in mid-air right outside the window. He had a handful of the other's coat and one palm pressed to the floor. There was a moment of intense, supreme agony as his spent chakra pathways flooded all at once, space warping around them as the Mangekyo Sharingan left a sudden emptiness where they had both stood, a space that imploded an instant later in a thunderous roar.

It was an unearthly phenomenon, watching space and time bend around itself. Shikamaru skidded to a sharp halt as a warped vortex that had materialized in the courtyard below the wreckage expelled Kakashi and the shinobi he was clinging to. Kakashi was wearing the hospital attire of a simple vest and loose pants, his mask in place. On closer inspection, Shikamaru noticed the perspiration on his brow, the heavy breathing that wracked his torso.

He had no time to process things much further because Naruto, blindingly fast as he always was in this form, had appeared just before them. Kakashi's eyes widened as he took in the roiling, red chakra, the beastly visage. He raised his hands, shouting for the jinchuuriki's attention.

"Naruto, I'm all right! I'm right here!"

It was then that Shikamaru noticed the shinobi behind Kakashi who was slowly struggling to his feet, placing his weight heavily on one leg. The familiarity of the face was sharply incongruous with the blind rage and hatred in the look he sent in Kakashi's direction. For a single moment, the air around Shikamaru stilled.

It's him. He's the one.

It was an indisputable fact. All these weeks of trailing in the wake of the other's violent thoughts, those sleepless nights spent adrift in the other's destructive torrent of vengeance, all of it had culminated at this point, this razor sharp edge of clarity when he looked into the other's eyes and recognized the monster whose shadow he had been chasing. Shikamaru dropped to one knee, hands raising into a deft, seamless seal as the eager darkness beneath his feet writhed, leapt and lunged.

In the dark space, hovering just beneath his unconscious mind, Naruto heard his sensei's voice. It wasn't quite like hearing, to be precise. It was more a sensation of familiarity, as if Kakashi had reached out and placed a hand on his head, as he sometimes did despite Naruto's half-hearted complaints. Surrounded by the raging whirlwind of fierce, uncontrollable chakra, feeling it burn through his pathways, twisting and distorting his physical form, Naruto felt something brush against his mind. A swift, clear collection of images, scents, sounds.

The scratch of his fingers against the bright orange cover of Icha Icha Paradise as he failed to land yet another hit. Kakashi's voice, deep and reassuring, as he blocked Sakura and himself from the worst of a kunai shower. The wiry, powerful shoulder under the flak jacket, pressing uncomfortably into Naruto's chin as Kakashi carried him, a drawling complaint about lazy genin reaching his ears. The smell of dogs, rain and damp earth as Kakashi landed lightly on his windowsill, shaking out his thick hair much like his canine companions all over Naruto's newly cleaned floor.

He felt a sense of urgency, a need to fight against the overwhelming current that bound him in place. Something was calling him back. He lashed out with his mind, stretched to an aching, reaching limit beyond this place, this cage that held him helpless prisoner. Flexing sinew woven of thought, Naruto pushed outward.

"Naruto!"

Shikamaru winced, sweat beading on his brow as the shinobi he was pinning down with his shadow twisted recklessly against his bonds. Pressing his knee harder into the ground, the young Nara gritted his teeth. There was a lot to be said for experience. His prisoner had resisted first though sending out irregular pulses of chakra that threatened to burst through his control, then had created a form of genjutsu that seemed to disguise chakra flow while it whipped and hissed against his restraints like a raging serpent.

Kakashi had positioned himself away from the struggling captive, eyeing both Naruto and the bound man even as his body sagged with evident exhaustion. Naruto had dropped to his knees, obviously battling against the control of the Kyuubi, his sharpened fingers digging deep trenches in the soil beneath him. Kakashi called to him again, noting the effect his voice was having.

"Naruto, fight it!"

Sensing the weakening of the shadow, the man being held down screamed, eyes wide and manic, spittle flying from his mouth as he unleashed a final burst of chakra. In the instant that his shadow gave way, Shikamaru had reached into his pouch and drawn a kunai. The shinobi was heading straight for Kakashi, kicking up a cloud of dust as his bad leg twisted, and every breath suddenly sounded loud in Shikamaru's head, his own heartbeat rapidly beating free of his throat. For one instant, unbidden, came the memory of Asuma-sensei, blood in his beard and on his teeth when he smiled, the hoarse request for a last cigarette. The kunai had already been propelled through the air when he registered that he had aimed for a lethal blow and his hand did not shake in the aftermath.

And then Naruto moved, leaving a trail of scorched earth in his wake as the crimson chakra surrounding him condensed, seemingly pulled inwards through the very pores on his skin. The kunai glowed briefly, red against the backdrop of the incoming dusk, as he caught it between two fingers. And then, in the same instant, his hand was on the shinobi's chest, wrenching him out of his deadly trajectory towards Kakashi with a force that jerked the other's limbs like a rag-doll.

In the deathly silence that followed, Shikamaru and Kakashi watched the heaving breaths beneath the tattered orange jacket, the trickle of sand that ran down the side of Naruto's sandal, the wind moving the soot-stained yellow hair. His throat now trapped between, Naruto's fingers, the shinobi, the murderer, had suddenly been rendered limp, his eyes transfixed by the gaze of his captor. Shikamaru saw rage and defeat, loneliness and longing scrawl themselves across the wrinkled face as the man raised his own hand and clasped Naruto's wrist.

"Everything I did was for you. You, Naruto."

The silence stretched and so did the shadows in the small courtyard. Kakashi had dropped to a crouch, panting, pain creasing the corners of his eyes.

"I had to watch it for years. I had to bear it while they tormented you. And finally, I couldn't. Not any more. Not when I knew I didn't have long to act ... with this body of mine. I know you, Naruto. I let these hands of mine become bloody so you wouldn't have to ever think, ever know, what this darkness means."

Still, Naruto said nothing, his grip on the old shinobi unrelenting. Shikamaru heard a desperate note enter the other's voice, saw his grasp on Naruto's wrist tighten.

"No matter what they say, don't let them fool you! I won't let them ... not after all I've done. They will use you and discard you. They will drain you of everything good and leave you in the dust. Don't you see!"

"Hey ... old man." Naruto's voice was soft, but carried unmentionable gravity. "You talk about these things like you know what it's like."

"That's because I - "

"But you don't. I know what people did. I know how they treated me. And that's why ... " Naruto took a deep, shuddering breath, "That's why what you did was so damn wrong. For every mean stare I got, I got a smile from Iruka-sensei. For every shove, I got a sparring punch from Sasuke-teme. For every time I had to hide for hours from people out to hurt me, I had to wait for hours for this lazy bum of a sensei behind me to even turn up. And when I fight alongside my friends, when I get ramen with someone, when Shikamaru trusts me even when he knows what's inside me, I get ... stronger."

The gaze of the shinobi in Naruto's grasp was suddenly dark and empty. Shikamaru readied his shadow binding as the remnants of whatever obsessive illusion that had grip on the man's mind slowly fell away in the warm, hard truth of Naruto's words.

"Those people you killed ... yeah, they hurt me. They did horrible things and they got away with it. So did a lot of other people. But you know what? They're part of this village. They're part of Konoha and no matter what they do to me, even if they hurt me, turn on me and abandon me and leave me all alone, they're the people of this village. And I'm going to protect every one of them, because I'm going to be Hokage."

Even as his shadow bound the now unresistant man, Shikamaru felt a deep knot of tension release from somewhere inside him. He rose slowly, gravel dropping from his knee, and made his way over to where Naruto stood, noting the arrival of the ANBU squadron in formation around their position. Kakashi stayed where he was. Shikamaru noted the way he watched his student, his eyes now creased in a different kind of pain.

And pride, so much pride.

Stopping by Naruto's side, Shikamaru felt a strange sense of reassurance, as if the blonde shinobi beside him was anchoring them all, keeping all of their destructive trajectories at bay. He took a breath.

"Yuudai-sama. I arrest you with the authority of the Konoha police force for the crimes of multiple murder, acts of terrorism, high treason against Konoha, abuse of authority and public disturbance. Resist and lethal action will be taken."

A/N: And there we have it. I'm sure some of you guessed the murderer's identity based on the clues I've been dropping. Hawk made for a very good decoy :D And so did Kazuya, I suppose. Let me know what you thought of this final chapter and drop a review! The next time I post will be the close to this story (the epilogue) where I will wrap up the final threads of this tangled yarn!