This has been sitting on my computer for quite a while, but the first chapter is finally finished! Enjoy!

Blood.

Screams.

Shouting orders, retreat, retreat, this one is too strong for you!-

Endless singing of steel, roaring flames and howling wind. Spots dancing in his vision, white hot pain searing through his skull, something the temperature of the Land of Iron in midwinter sinking into his chest even when he could feel his own blade slice through flesh and bone-

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Blink.

Green. Lots of green, with blue shimmering in and out of view between the gaps. Like a forest canopy. Hazy and blurry and what was that white in the corner of his eye-?

Blink.

Green blocked out by shadowed ivory, the sound of a huge beast shuffling near him and the oddest warbled snickers as something leaned over him.

Blink.

What. The actual. Fuck?!

A mask. A toothed mask, reminding him very much of a skull, attached to a body like a gorilla that had failed to pull off an Akimichi Clan technique the right way, and it had the audacity to laugh at him.

Oh, you're so dead.

He was pretty sure he'd just died in a rather painful and exhausting way, was kind of upset about failing his team, was ticked off as hell at the same time (never a good combination), and he'd just left a battleground. His reflexes were very much alive and kicking, and itching for blood. He didn't particularly care from where. So it wasn't that much of a surprise that the first thing he did was shove a Chidori through the leering grin on the skull-like face.

Or try to. His hand cracked against bone, not even penetrating to the first knuckle and without a hint of the blue lightning he had tried to create.

… Oh, ashes and death, Sasuke thought numbly. Someone up there hates me.

His fingers hurt like hell and when the monster reared back shrieking with rage he could feel the edges of fractured bone dig into his fingertips when they were yanked out.

Cursing, Sasuke rolled away from under a violent claw-tipped swipe, fluidly continuing the motion and getting on his feet in time to avoid a glowing red blast from the creature's mouth. He swore in his head. Son of a- Was that raw chakra? Bit like the Tailed Beasts' energy orbs. Thank the Kami it was a lot weaker. The plain green yukata – and whoever put that on him would learn, painfully, that Uchiha Sasuke was not someone to mess with – he was wearing hindered him for a moment until he adapted his movements to the restrictions that came with such a garment.

Quickly he tried to gather chakra for a proper Chidori, but the energy that used to rise to his call fast as quicksilver was now as unyielding as thick treacle stuck in a straw. It was like discovering he could no longer breathe when he really, desperately needed to.

He hadn't been this close to panicking since the death of his family.

Breathe, he told himself, forcing his body to keep dodging the beast's wild attacks. There has to be a reason-

If he hadn't been so busy he would have slapped himself.

You're dead, moron, Sasuke reminded himself. Chakra was a mix between physical and spiritual energy. With the physical aspect gone…

I need a weapon.

A hurried pat-down proved that the belief that you could take some of your most important worldly possessions with you in death was just a pleasant fairytale to make you feel a little better about the inevitable. Clearly his day hadn't been bad enough yet.

Only one thing left to try before he'd have to resort to fists and feet. Given how tough the mask had been he really didn't want to have to do that. He'd probably break something.

This time he ignored the physical aspect and reached with both hands for his spiritual energy. It was like drawing water from a river for a large-scale Suiton for the first time. It fought back, slipping through his fingers and escaping his hold.

Clenching his jaw while vaulting over the monster's back he concentrated hard, solidified his mental grip on the energy and pulled.

For a moment nothing happened. Then-

It was like a great dam breaking.

Electric blue energy erupted around him, whispering with the sound of a hundred Chidori. When he channeled the resisting energy into his hand it warped, twisting and coalescing into a familiar shape, becoming solid steel and a silk-wrapped hilt.

Only reflexes prevented him dropping the katana in bewilderment.

What the-?!

Questions later, he firmly told himself.

Landing lightly on his feet he moved to attack. He hadn't planned for his Chidori to turn into an all-too-real blade – and how that had happened he would find out – but he wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. And because his day had royally sucked so far, he took a vindictive pleasure in burying his new sword in the mask's left eye hole.

After that is was just a matter of hacking away until he felt a little better.

Several violent minutes later Sasuke brought his slightly accelerated breath under control with practiced ease, flicking drops of crimson from gleaming metal.

Now somewhat more composed, he inspected the katana. It was beautiful in it's simplicity. Smooth as a mirror, with a flawless edge that had sliced through rock-hard bone like a heated knife through butter. The smoke-gray steel carried not a hint of staining from the blood that had coated it. The only disappointment was the tsuba, which was a circular, openwork disc made from some kind of silver alloy, judging from the gleaming near-white color.

Sasuke scowled at it. Honestly? silver? Sure, it was pretty, but if there had to be a tsuba – which Sasuke preferred not, given how easily it could be used against you – Sasuke preferred matt steel. Far more reliable and a lot less eye-catching.

Sasuke glared at the annoying piece of metal for a moment, deciding that as soon as he got the chance he would get rid of it. Then he blinked, his mind finally registering the design.

He couldn't help it. His jaw dropped.

… Seriously?

There was no doubt in his mind; this had to be someone's joke. This thing was too personalized to be a coincidence, and that was taking the way it had seemingly appeared straight from his chakra into consideration.

Incredulously, Sasuke stared at the highly stylized pattern that he would recognize even if he ended up blind, demented, and unable to lift even the smallest senbon.

One darkened ring represented the rim of the iris, and encircled three darkened tomoe arranged in a perfect circle. The tomoe might be bigger, the hooks longer, and connected to the outer ring with gleaming, silver-white, stylized lightning, but Sasuke knew the characteristic shapes of the Sharingan like the back of his hand.

… Okay, maybe he wouldn't get rid of the tsuba. He had to keep it around so he could figure out who to thank for the timely gift, and then kick their asses for making it too personal and ornamental.

He shook of his irritation and swung the weapon, familiarizing himself with its length and weight, and blinked, pleasantly surprised. It was flawless. Whoever had forged it might be a flamboyant bastard, but that same person was also a true master smith, and Sasuke could overlook the former to appreciate the latter. If he was going to deal with a flashy primary weapon then anything less than top quality was unacceptable.

And disregarding its looks, Sasuke freely admitted the satisfaction he felt when he realized the night-blue hilt fitted into his hand as if it had always belonged there.

Despite everything Sasuke smirked. At least he'd gotten one nice surprise.

And then the severity of his current situation hit him.

He was stuck in a place he didn't know with only a katana. He didn't have access to his chakra and had no idea how to use unmixed spiritual energy. It was obvious it that though there were similarities, it did not work the same way as chakra. In short, he was well and truly screwed.

Damn.

Tiredly he rubbed his eyes. Damn it all. He had failed. Failed the mission, failed his team, failed the people that were waiting for his return. Ashes and fire, Naruto was going to killhim. It was fortunate that knowing the blonde's luck he'd have a couple of decades to prepare before Naruto would bite the dust as well. Prepare, because he was sure Naruto would place kicking his ass at the top of his to-do list once he'd arrived. Curse those S-class missing-nin, when he found out who was responsible for that blinding jutsu he was going to tear them a new one. And take his time doing so.

Later. Just deal with it... later. There were more pressing matters to address.

Sasuke inspected the corpse of the... whatever it was. Definitely not human. A Summon? If it was he wasn't impressed. Why it was falling apart like that? When the corpses of Summons disappeared they usually did so in one go and a puff of smoke, not this weird dissipating thing. Maybe it was a special characteristic, meant to hinder their opponents even after death?

He frowned. A Summon indicated a summoner. In his current condition that meant the situation could go belly-up damn fast. Though he couldn't sense any chakra signature. Did his death mess up his chakra sensing as well? If so, then he was in even more trouble than he'd thought.

He sighed, eyes returning to his new blade. At least he had a weapon. Even if he had no idea how. He'd really have to figure that out. Some additional kunai or exploding tags would be nice. A bit curious he looked around for a matching saya. Hey, if a high quality katana could appear out of thin air, why not a scabbard as well?

Nothing.

Of. Course. As if reality would be practical enough to offer a sheath for a weapon that could easily slice through his leg if he tried carrying it without one. Granted, he knew several ways to deal – learned in ANBU because sheaths tended to get busted if you used them for a last-ditch defense – but it would be troublesome, as a certain Nara would put it, and might be bad for the blade in the long run.

He let out a silent sigh. Time to experiment again. Concentrating, Sasuke called forth his spiritual energy. It came, wild and unpredictable as meltwater in spring; nothing like the smooth, steady stream his chakra had been. It was... irritating, to put it mildly.

Ignoring the instability for now, he tried to gather the unruly energy in something that somewhat resembled his Chidori. After all, that had been how he'd gotten the katana, so there was a chance it might give him a matching saya this time. Three times the energy fell apart before he could get anywhere. The fourth time he managed to hold it for a couple of seconds, though unfortunately nothing appeared.

Sasuke huffed, frustrated. Sat down, thinking of what he might be doing wrong, laying the katana over his knees to study it.

He wasn't a material person, but he knew the value of quality equipment. He smiled a little. He could have done a lot worse. Still, the situation was entirely too surreal for his tastes. Kind of reminded him a little of those weird movies Naruto had insisted they'd watch in the name of team bonding. Personally Sasuke thought a good, tough mission was a far better bonding method, but the dobe had always been weird that way. Some things just didn't change.

Though he'd admit it had been kind of fun to annoy the blond loudmouth by picking on every little impossibility or overly dramatized fighting scene.

He paused, thoughtful. In fact, he did remember one where someone pulled a weapon out of thin air too. Some kind of magical girl series they'd watched because Sakura had been fed up with the more bloody movies, claiming she saw enough blood during working hours, thank you very much. She'd had a point, so they hadn't kicked up too much of a fuzz. Though they'd immediately vetoed the romance-oriented series.

It was, of course, too ridiculous for words. But if it worked, it was well worth the idiocy.

Now how did it go again? Trying to remember a scene he hadn't paid attention to he gathered his spiritual energy once more, took a moment to semi-stabilize it, and slowly moved his hand over the naked steel.

Nothing.

Well, he couldn't say he was really surprised. Annoyed, maybe, but not surprised. Though perhaps it was for the better that it hadn't worked, Sasuke mused. Just imagining the reactions of his friends if they would have found out he'd tried to imitate a magical girl was mortifying enough. They would have never, ever let him live it down had it actually worked. He shuddered mentally. No, best to forget about the entire attempt. That way, his secret would be safe.

He almost jumped when his stomach gurgled, to his annoyance and slight humiliation. He had thought he had eliminated that noisy habit during ANBU training. Exactly how long had he been out?

No way to find out, unfortunately. Ashes, he couldn't even be sure that the passage of time in the world of the living would coincide with the passage of time in world of the dead.

Sasuke rubbed his forehead, feeling a headache coming up.

His first priority was to take stock of his situation and figure out exactly what he could expect from the afterlife. It clearly wasn't a safe place. And maybe he could find some food and a place to crash for the night, though he could deal with camping if he had to. Sasuke was pretty sure he could still move quietly enough to get the drop on wild animals, even without chakra to keep leaves and twigs from making noise.

Maybe he could find some Konoha ninja. With everything that had happened, he wouldn't be surprised if the Hidden Villages existed in this world as well. Perhaps even people he knew...

He paused.

Realization hit him like a ton of bricks, initiating a stormy domino-effect of hope, joy, grief, and frightened anticipation in his heart. His eyes widened.

Oh, Great Kami above.

Of course. Why hadn't he immediately thought of this? His friends and comrades might be out of his reach, but with death came the one opportunity he'd longed for ever since he was seven.

He could meet his Clan again.

He took a deep breath, tried to get his hands to stop shaking, and smiled tremulously. His eyes prickled and he let out a shaky laugh. He could see them again. Talk to them again. His father, his mother, his cousins- and the one he wanted to meet most of all.

Itachi.

Kami, somewhere in this world was probably an entire Uchiha Village. The Uchiha were an old Clan, and unless the afterlife also knew death – that would be irony at its finest – there were probably so many of them they could easily have their own town. So many people he had never known that well – or at all – but all family, and all right here. The only thing Sasuke would have to do was find them.

Still smiling, Sasuke ripped off a long strip of cloth from his kimono to secure his katana to his person until he could find something better, a new purpose blazing in his heart, warming him from the core of his being to the very tips of his toes. To have a goal and people who would welcome you without question made a huge difference, Sasuke mused. Because suddenly, you were no longer lost.

Heh. Maybe being dead wasn't that bad.

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Well, wasn't this fantastic? The afterlife seemed to be more miserable than the living world, at least for the more morally inclined civilians. Sasuke had only been dead for about two days, and he'd already learned that the afterlife was not the slightest bit different from the living world; more like a different country than a different world, really, for all the difference death made. Who knew it was possible for dead people to die again? Talk about repetitive. It put a serious dent in his hope for an Uchiha Village, and meant his family might turn out more difficult to find than he'd first assumed. It honestly was a bit of a pity, but then again, maybe he should have expected it. Just imagining how crowed it would be if everyone who died just kept hanging around made him grimace. They'd be packed like sardines, no doubt.

Sasuke suppressed a disdainful frown as he spotted another pitiful human form. Hunched over, filthy, and clearly poor as the dirt it sat in, the beggar had his hand raised and was begging for compassion from indifferent passers-by. The area he had ended up in was as poor and decrepit as the civilian areas around Amegakure used to be during the worst of the Second Great Shinobi War. Sasuke hadn't expected to face this much destitution in the afterlife. He himself managed to get by, especially once he discovered how rare the ability to fight the weird monsters was, but most people didn't. Or if they did, they probably managed only because they took the more unsavory jobs. There certainly were a lot of thugs around, but Sasuke could easily handle those. Most seemed able to recognize dangerous people and preferred to go after weaker prey, so Sasuke was rarely bothered.

The few idiots that did, well, no one would miss them.

He glared at the drink in front of him. It was of terrible quality and smelled as if something had died in it. But it was the only beverage poured in this bar, and this bar was the only one in this godforsaken hellhole he'd ended up in today, and he needed any rumors he could catch to get a better understanding of the afterlife. Pretending to be just an ordinary customer was the best way to get an ear in.

Looking around the Uchiha had to suppress a disgusted sneer. The bar was as bad as the drinks it poured. Sasuke hadn't bothered to memorize its name, as he'd already vowed to leave as soon as he'd decided which way he'd go. So far, he hadn't caught any useful information aside from some rumors of local monster haunts, which were only mildly useful in the sense that he now knew where to offer his services in exchange for food and other necessities.

At least he'd finally caught the name of this land and, incidentally, he'd learned enough to get an idea of the general layout. The area he had arrived in was called Kakou, which was a fairly humorous name if you liked that kind of joke. The 79th district of East Rukongai certainly didn't smell like flowers from where he was sitting. But the mere fact that this place was located east of whatever place lay at the center-point, allowed Sasuke to orientate himself somewhat.

For now he would assume that the districts were counted semi-linearly with the low numbers near the central point and the high numbers on the outside, or vice versa. It would be simple to figure out which one was correct, or, if neither was, to find out whether there was a more complicated system in place. All he had to do was travel west – for now Sasuke assumed that the world of the dead was at least similar enough to the world of the living for the cardinal directions to be the same – and see which number the next district had. It was a simple enough plan. He only hoped the districts weren't ridiculously big. He didn't feel like traveling for months, especially because he wasn't even sure that whatever place was at the center was worth traveling to. He hadn't yet found people willing to talk about it, though someone had mentioned a city. Whether that one was at the center though...

With a sigh the Uchiha knocked back the disgusting beverage, showing no outside sign of the shudder of revulsion that passed though him. Sasuke prayed he would never have to find out what had been in the drink, if only because that would mean it hadn't been dangerous enough to have consequences.

Snatches of hushed conversations drifted through the room, one in conversation particular catching Sasuke's attention. Closing his eyes he pricked his ears, having to concentrate to make out the words over the murmurs of the rest of the clientèle.

"-bad business. Those damn no-good Shinigami are shirking their supposed duties as usual. Those incompetent bastards always claim to fight the monsters but no one ever sees them around here. Just because they got a bit of power they think they can get away with lying-"

After that the men were only complaining and Sasuke quit listening, quite sure no useful information would leave their lips anytime soon. The Uchiha scowled. He had been here the entire afternoon and still hadn't heard anything truly useful. No hints for his real questions, like how weapons appeared out of nowhere or how best to use his spiritual energy. Hours wasted drinking vile liquids he wouldn't offer a dog, listening to inane blather from people too pathetic to take their fate in their own hands. Not a shred of useful intel about his family or even shinobi in general to be found neither here nor in the previous village, only mentions of monster sightings and complains about Shinigami that apparently weren't doing their jobs.

It was that Sasuke knew he was dead, otherwise he would have written off those complains as the driveling of drunkards. He still wasn't entirely sure he believed them, given that he hadn't seen anything that even remotely met his expectation of a death god.

Plus, he could fight the monsters perfectly fine, and he was damn sure he wasn't a Shinigami. He'd think choosing such an occupation would be a rather memorable occasion, and he certainly couldn't remember anything like that. Though he could admit imagining his team's faces if he'd come pick them up personally was pretty amusing. After everything that had happened, seeing them shocked had become increasingly rare.

The Uchiha shook his head at his own thoughts. Deciding he had frittered away more than enough time he rose from his seat, picking up the thick cane he had leaned against the edge of the table.

The cane was actually his sword in disguise. Sasuke had hidden it by placing it between two lengthwise halves of a willow branch – primed with a broad, shallow groove on the inside of one of the halves to provide room for the blade – and tying them together, wrapping a piece of cloth around the hilt and tsuba to disguise the fact that they weren't simply a part of the branch. Basically it was a crude imitation of a shikomizue. Drawing it had to be done with a lot of care, but that was only a slight hindrance. If there was truly an emergency he would just slice through the bindings; they could easily be repaired afterwards. It was a hassle but this way people were far less wary of him, which made gathering information a lot easier. Civilians always got irritatingly jumpy from people with weapons.

Sasuke ran his hand over the bulge beneath the cloth, still miffed that he hadn't been able to remove the tsuba. Not for lack of trying either. He had spent most of his time in the previous village trying to find the right tools to take a sword apart without damaging it – it had involved a lot of searching and stealing – only for him to find out after five failed attempts to lift one of the pins keeping the blade secure in the hilt, that the katana was a whole. Not the meticulously interlocking pieces he was used to, no, instead the hilt, the tsuba, the pins securing the blade inside the hilt, and ashes even the hilt's silk- and ray-skin wrappings! – each and every little part of the katana was fused with the others as if welded. Sasuke would have had to employ heavy-handed force to separate them.

As much as the tsuba annoyed him, Sasuke wasn't going to damage his only weapon to get rid of it.

Adopting an air of unhurried nonchalance he moved to the exit at a sedate pace, each step a fluid glide that hid the fact that he was using his toes to locate wooden splinters and shards of pottery in the dirt that made up the floor of this establishment. The Uchiha had no desire to wound himself on whatever trash was left on the ground here. He discreetly nudged a few pieces of debris out of his way before he put his foot down, careful not to let anyone notice his actions lest they'd decide his sense of self-preservation was insulting. It was ridiculous, but then again, that was humanity for you. Some people used the most idiotic excuses to pick a fight and he didn't feel like killing another moron today.

Honestly, if only the lands of the dead had some decent footwear he wouldn't need to bother. Yesterday it had become clear that he would have to travel bare-foot, because no one seemed to have anything remotely worth buying. It had annoyed him for quite a while until he'd thrown his hands up and had given up looking. His feet had gotten used to it soon enough.

The rags they called clothing here were almost as bad. He'd had to cut the good bits out of several articles of clothing – which, as he'd already said, didn't really deserve to be called clothing – and sew them together into something a bit more presentable when he'd decided he really wanted some pants while traveling through treetops. Good thing he had learned how in case he'd get stuck on a mission and couldn't get replacements or something. It was a bit different from stitching a wound closed, though not too much. His Sharingan had let him copy the different techniques easily.

Speaking of his Sharingan, damn if that wasn't another source of frustration. He'd gotten the hang of using his spiritual energy enough for basic techniques like tree- and water-walking – at least enough to stay standing; moving at speed was still problematic – which had helped him smoothen the flow of the untrained energy, but no matter what he tried, his Sharingan refused to activate. Actually, he wasn't even sure he still had it, because his previously black eyes seemed permanently stuck on Sharingan red without a sign of the three signature tomoe around the pupil. He'd discovered that when a civilian had screamed right in his face when she'd looked him in the eye, prompting him to seek out a mirror. Ashes and death, he'd been so angry. Not a good combination with the sudden fear he might have lost his valuable Kekkei Genkai.

It was as if he'd lost a part of himself.

Oddly enough, the Sharingan seemed to be at least still somewhat present. His vision was as clinical and piercingly analyzing as it was with the Sharingan activated, but the ability to translate what he'd seen into something he could immediately use seemed to be lost – or at least greatly diminished, he wasn't sure yet. It was as if his Kekkei Genkai had been reduced to an exceptionally thorough eidetic memory. And Mangekyou Sharingan was of course completely out of the question without the rudimentary version.

Not that Sasuke really missed the Mangekyou. The costs had been high when he first got it and had, like an idiot, used it too regularly, and after receiving his brother's eyes he hadn't been able to use it much anymore. It brought up too many bad memories of Itachi and their pasts, and the sacrifices of countless people for the sake of peace. Over the years it had become more and more a technique meant for grave emergencies only.

Sasuke ran his fingers over his eyes in an subconscious reflex to dispel the block on his bloodline abilities – which was fast becoming an undesirable habit; he made a mental note to stop it before that actually happened – burying the sense of grief and loss that came with it with an ease learned during numerous missions ending in wounds he might-or-might-not survive with all his limbs intact.

Of course, he had to admit an eidetic memory was better than nothing, but that didn't mean the Uchiha was happy about it. And of course, after having earned himself quite a reputation before and during the Great War there were few opponents who didn't have some sort of contingency plans for the odd chance they'd have to face him, but that didn't mean he didn't have any use for his Kekkei Genkai anymore. An advantage was still an advantage, even if people figured out ways around it, and now that advantage was gone.

Well, mostly gone.

Sasuke absently wondered how the rest of his family was dealing with it. He paused and snickered. Probably mortified beyond belief. Not everyone though, if his memories could be trusted. His mother and Shisui would probably be okay with it, and he knew Itachi was, seeing how his older brother never put that much value in his ability anyway. It was handy, sure, but countless shinobi functioned perfectly well without it.

Though Sasuke was willing to bet that his brother was at least missing it. There was no denying that the Sharingan had played a major roll in their lives, and no shinobi would be comfortable with losing such an important core-ability.

Which reminded him he hadn't really seen any other shinobi around. Or even traces of shinobi. Granted, he hadn't been here for more than a few days, but nonetheless he had expected at least to have stumbled across people who, if not shinobi themselves, at least were aware of their existence.

The best explanation he'd been able to come up with was that he had ended up in a predominantly civilian area, which was why he had hidden his katana in a crude imitation of a shikomizue in the first place. But still, even in a civilian area there should have at least been some signs, if only things like little hidden places that kept an ear out for trouble and did some work as emergency suppliers when people happened to pass through, or lingering scars in the buildings or landscape caused by old battles. Thrown kunai left very distinctive markings and Sasuke knew them so well he could recognize them even on a cloudy, moonless night, no matter how unobtrusive the gashes became after a few years.

But there was nothing. That, far more than anything else, got Sasuke on edge.

Maybe I should try the local market.

Because there was one thing he was sure of: he couldn't be the only shinobi around here. And he was going to find out why he couldn't find anyone.

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So far, the market was as useless as the bar, though at least it had a larger variety of products. Not that the quality was that much better, but at least most landed in the range of 'edible', instead of 'risk of food-poisoning'.

He was calmly sifting through the useless drivel of the people around him in search for information when a flutter of black in the corner of his eye caught his attention. Nonchalantly he stepped towards a vendor, subtly maneuvering so he could observe the new arrivals without being too obvious. Sasuke noticed very few others bothered with subtlety, and most the people visiting the market were openly shooting the new arrivals surprisingly dark looks. Falling in line with the the crowd's behavior, Sasuke quit hiding his movements and blatantly took stock of the swords, the durable black kosode and hakama each of them wore instead of the common kimono, and the clear signs of combat training in each of them. And the footwear, the Uchiha noted with slight envy. Each a rarity on its own, combined the strangers might as well have sent up fireworks spelling 'rich travelers here!'.

Absently he wondered how long it would take until people would scrape enough courage together to attempt to mug them.

One of them turned his head in his direction and Sasuke shifted, shielding his own hidden katana from the traveler's eyes with his body. The man was trained so there was a chance he would recognize it for what it was, and Sasuke saw no need to tip his hand early. Keeping up his act as part of the crowd he pretended to lose interest and picked up a pitiful little apple, still green in a couple of places and already wrinkled. If he cooked it in the skin it would probably be okay to eat. Not that he planned to.

Finally the small group had passed, seemingly unaware of the unrest that had spread in their wake. Sasuke himself was feeling quite curious. These guys were clearly not peasants, so there was a change they knew about shinobi, since they at least appeared to have access to enough money to hire some if they felt the need. Plus, if they were indeed warriors, they might have actually met some face to face, and might know more about their whereabouts. If nothing else, he wanted to know where'd they gotten their quality garments from, and as they were conveniently traveling west he wouldn't even have to change his own traveling plans much.

Sasuke smirked to himself. Seemed like the market had been a good gamble. Time for some good old-fashioned spying. He'd been getting rusty anyway.

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A few hours of stalking later, Sasuke had to admit that the travelers fought relatively well for non-shinobi, even if their style was far too much samurai for his tastes. Only idiots would speak to beasts as if they were human. It was not as if the masked monsters – Hollows, they'd called them – would suffer damage to morale if they yelled enough threats or if they ostentatiously executed their techniques. Though the Hollows probably did appreciate the stupidly honorable habit of not finishing an assault once a critical injury had been dealt. Really, the black-clad fighters should have known better than to let a wounded foe get his wind back.

Sasuke watched impassively as the Hollow that just got its arm cut off took revenge by slamming the one responsible through a couple of trees. The fool deserved it, in Sasuke's opinion. Maybe it would teach him not to have mercy on a downed enemy. The fool's five companions didn't seem to agree with him, giving worried yells and – idiots that they were – momentarily taking their eyes of the rampaging threat. Or rather, most of them did. Luckily for the idiots in the group, two of their people had the brains to intercept the Hollow before it could take someone else out.

Sasuke blinked in surprise when one of them started what sounded like an incantation. He straightened, focusing on the words and the glowing energy that was gathering in the woman's hand.

"-Hadou number eleven, Tsuzuri Raiden!" Lightning crackled in her palm, lashing out fast as an striking cobra, a ribbon of pale yellow light that snaked around the Hollow's head and tightened. The monster stiffened as electricity raged through every cell of its body, making it collapse into a smoking heap. The woman was breathing heavily, but she won a couple of points in Sasuke's book by showing more common sense than her idiot-companion and finishing the beast off before it could recover.

Not that Sasuke was focusing on that. All he could think was, I want that.

So what if he had a slight fixation on lightning-based jutsu? Chidori had been his favorite for years and here he hadn't yet managed to call upon the chirping technique. The one the woman had used seemed like a acceptable replacement until he could. Though the incantation sounded unnecessarily cumbersome.

Sasuke frowned thoughtfully. Maybe it was like the hand seals used for shaping jutsu. Once you were skilled enough you could skip most, even to the point you could leave them out completely if you were in a hurry and could deal with the weakened effects.

Which meant either the woman wasn't very skilled, or she'd decided she'd had enough time to fully power her jutsu. Not that he minded. It had allowed him to memorize the incantation for later experimentation.

Sasuke was still busy analyzing the words of the incantation – which sounded fairly ridiculous, but then again, he couldn't really judge since the meanings of the hand seals were fairly ridiculous too – when he was distracted by the woman using another jutsu, one that didn't need an incantation and glowed green. It was clearly intended for medical purposes. It looked so much like the healing jutsu he was used to he couldn't suppress a wave of grief-filled nostalgia. At least the woman had dark hair, or else he'd have been even more reminded of his female teammate.

… Not that they'd been much of a team the last couple of years. Sakura had been working her ass off in the hospital, having taken over Tsunade's old position in all but name because her teacher had enough on her plate with running the village, Naruto had been too busy getting groomed as the Slug Sannin's successor, and Sasuke himself had fulfilled the position of the ANBU's second in command with Kakashi as his superior. The mission that had taken his life had been the eradication of a group very much like the Akatsuki, and though he was pretty sure he'd managed to take Enten's leader with him in death, he'd still felt that he'd disappointed his old team. He hoped they hadn't taken his death too hard. That'd be just like them and would mean lots of yelling in the future.

Sasuke shook himself out of his melancholic mood. The warriors were moving again, putting up a surprisingly decent amount of speed for people untrained in the shinobi arts. He'd been caught off guard the first time he'd witnessed it. It was not yet what he'd call a real challenge – despite him having to keep up without betraying his presence – but it was still far more than he'd come to expect in a world with such a disturbing lack of traces of shinobi combat.

Soundlessly Sasuke followed, picking his way over tree branches, careful to stay out of their sight while still allowing himself to observe them. The idiot that had taken a tumble seemed to be okay, which raised his respect for the warriors a notch. Slamming through two reasonably-sized trees tended to leave lesser fighters knocked out cold, or at least aching bad enough to let it show in their movements even after getting healed. This guy had barely a limp, so either he was a lot sturdier than he appeared, or their healer was just that good. Sasuke figured it was a bit of both. A smart healer tried to preserve their chakra and wouldn't have healed the guy as thoroughly as his movements suggested.

At the end of the day they'd reached another village. The leader of the group – a guy he had hear the others call Manbou – haggled with an old man for accommodations, as the village didn't have anything even remotely resembling a hotel. Soon a deal was struck and the whole group entered the small wooden home.

Sasuke looked around, carefully taking note of relevant landmarks, before setting out to get himself some dinner. His day hadn't gone exactly as he'd planned so now he'd have to do his hunting at night instead of during the day like he'd intended that morning.

Not that it really mattered. It was a slight inconvenience at most.

Three hours later he returned, the cooked remains of two hares and a pheasant carefully tucked away as provisions for the coming days. To make sure he'd wake when the group set out in the morning he quietly climbed on the roof of their hut, wary of weak patches and very careful not to make any noises that would catch the inhabitants' attention. The wood beneath him was thin. Thin enough to let through the sound of a quiet conversation inside.

When the people speaking finally went to sleep a few minutes later, Sasuke had learned that they were Shinigami – which had made him want to scoff disbelievingly, until he remembered that he was dead so actually running into a team of death gods wasn't that unlikely, even if they looked nothing like he'd expected – they were here for a mission involving the decimation of the number of Hollows in the area – and there had to be a joke in there somewhere; death gods running around killing things – and they were running late returning to a place called Seireitei. They'd also be meeting up with the main group around noon tomorrow, which was led by someone they apparently greatly admired, judging from the way they were talking about their Lieutenant. Not very useful, except that the guy was called Kuchiki and was supposed to be strong.

Court of Pure Souls, huh? Sounded like the kind of place death gods might live, yes. Though he had to say these Shinigami looked very much human. They had a presence to them, sure, but more like some shinobi had whenever they forgot to hide their chakra signature. Maybe 'Shinigami' was an occupation instead of a race of otherworldly beings?

Sasuke nodded to himself. Assuming these people were representative for their kind, that was pretty likely. He suppressed a snort. To think he'd been actually worried about the Shinigami, only for them to turn out to be no better than shinobi. The Uchiha shook his head. He would reserve judgment regarding the level of danger they posed until he'd seen more of them in action, but for now he would not be too concerned.

He rolled onto his side. Tomorrow he would continue following the group. Even if they didn't seem much of a challenge compared to previous opponents it would be good to know where to find Seireitei. Maybe he'd even be able to nab more information on the Shinigami's jutsu. Sasuke knew he needed something to replace his arsenal of techniques until he managed to reproduce his old ones with spiritual energy, and what he'd seen that afternoon had certainly looked promising.

Curling up on the most stable part of the roof with his sword in easy grabbing distance, the Uchiha closed his eyes and allowed himself to slip into a dreamless sleep.

Tomorrow he would hopefully get a better measure of the world he'd ended up in.

Translations:

Kakou = fragrance of flowers

Enten = scorching sun

Shikomizue = prepared cane (a Japanese swordstick; also known as 'jotou', literally translated as 'staff sword')

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