Author's Notes:

I find it funny, looking back to see me talking about MW3 a few chapters back – that was over a year ago! Time truly flies…

I did some Photoshop magic to make a little 'cover' for this story. It's just a clipart salamander I found on the web with a leaf headband I put on his left arm like Shikamaru has his. You can see it better if you click the picture. I think it's kinda cute. I was going to put it over the eye like Kakashi but in the end changed my mind. As if I would ever let a one-eyed salamander represent this story.

Congratulations to 'Zaralannfor' for being the 777th review of this story!

I must say, I was pretty blown away by 613 and the apparent death of Inoichi and Shikaku and damn, Shikaku went out like a boss. I almost got a little emotional on the last panel with Ino and Shikamaru.

And finally, onto the 12th chapter on the 12th day of the 12th month of the 12th year 2,000 has to offer! I did not plan this, but when I saw the opportunity arise it was too good of an opportunity to pass up. And yes, I did post the story at 12:12 eastern time.

IIII
The Sound of Revenge
IIII

He awoke to the sound of chopping – soft, quiet sounds of a knife repeatedly meeting wood, slicing and dicing – and an aimless, gentle humming. Slight movement of his extremities came back to him but it was sluggish and his eyes did not wish to open, but he forced them so through sheer willpower, wincing as he did. A sliver of sunlight was pouring through a small crack in the shades, the sharp brightness of it slapping him in the face where he lay all-but-helpless. He felt sorer than ever before and he smelled of sweat and of blood – his blood.

I must have fallen asleep, he realized belatedly. He would not even consider the thought that he had fainted – decapitation for the foolish man that dare suggest it.

The room was blurred but soon came into focus and he was not surprised to see the boy working away at an old wooden table, a cleaver in his hand as he cut to pieces what looked like peaches. The boy had good form and not for the first time he considered teaching him how to properly wield a man's weapon – honestly, it's truly disgraceful for a man to use senbon, he thought, sneering.

He cast aside the sheet covering his chest and raised himself into a sitting position, snarling at the aches and throbbing pain seemingly shooting through his entire front. The boy turned at his noise and was at his side at once, tending to the ravaged flesh that lay beneath his bloody bandages.

Blood…

For a time, it was all I knew, he reminisced, almost fondly.

Before the child, it had been the one true constant in his life that grounded him to reality. As a shinobi of unparalleled skill, he bathed in both the salty water of the sea and saltier blood of foe and friend alike.

And in the village titled 'Bloody Mist,' a friend could turn foe in the blink of an eye.

A man in his position had seen it more than once – lived the change himself, too, when the guillotine came calling for his own head. There was the before: sitting around a campfire, sharing a drink or a meal – and then the reveal: the accidental freezing of a glass of water, a pale white bone breaking skin for a moment, the sudden, unnatural flashing of eyes – and then came the silence: the bone chilling silence of a life-altering revelation was first, and in his memories it always seemed as though time had stopped.

After the silence came the action – fight or flight. Instinct took over, and in that fleeting moment, most learned more about the one in question than they knew all their life – who was a king thirsting for battle and who was craven, cowering behind better men. Most times it happened so quick – the end so violently sudden and red – it was over in less than a minute, the shocked silence quickly morphing into one of mourning which gradually faded into numbness, a numbness that was born from years of following orders in obedient silence, never questioning the monster that gave you the orders and filled those bloody hands of yours with even bloodier money.

And it was always bloody – your life, your career, and especially your death. Live fast die hard, was a code they lived by.

And I have come full circle, he thought, watching as the boy – a boy, who, under his previous orders, would be put to the sword, his executioner's blade specifically – prodded at his raw, tender wounds with a gentle hand he should probably chide the boy for. He was too soft, he knew, yet he could not bring himself to curse the child. He had lived a long – long, by many a nins standards – hard life, and the boy before him was now his soft pillow, herding him gently into oblivion. Ever since meeting the boy he had begun to question things in life, for better or worse.

Once upon a time it had been his duty to remove the heads of those deemed traitors to his village, and he had done it well. A traitor being anything from a comrade speaking out of turn to their Lord or a simple girl not nearly a woman grown being born in the wrong village, at the wrong time, with the wrong blood flowing in her veins.

Just like the boy…

Perhaps in another life, in a world not ravaged by the militaristic culture that they lived in and had nothing to do with shinobi and their wars, the boy would have been his village's healer, mixing herbs and creating tonics for its residents – maybe he would even take care of sick and injured animals as well, when he had the time to spare, which he did not doubt the boy would create, if need be. He would probably like that, if the snow white rabbit he carried around was anything to go by.

"I will need to return to the market," he said quietly, his voice filled with worry. He bit his lip then, hands folded rigid in his lap, fighting the urge to fidget it would seem. "The wounds do not seem to be healing properly."

Of course they aren't healing, he wanted to snap, but held his silence for the time being – there was no use worrying him, which his words undoubtedly would; he was not one to mince anything other than people. Perhaps the boy did not know it, but this was not the first time Momochi Zabuza had seen the horrible power of a jinchuuriki. What are the odds I would meet one again – and on the final mission before my return, if I were to believe Gatou's promises, that is?

Thinking of the short, blond haired boy was painful in more ways than one, as were his longing thoughts of the war-ravaged place he still liked to call home. And Gatou would make due on his promises, Zabuza would see to it, whether the fat little man lived to see his money put to good use or not.

He longed to see the waters of his homeland before his days were done, and if he managed to put an end to the rebellion he helped spark, it was all the better. In my dreams I kill him every night and in my nightmares the purges continue without pause, like the assembly line of a slaughterhouse.

After a moment, however, another thought struck him as the boy began applying a salve to his bruised body.

This foolish child truly cares for me – have I come to do the same? he thought, and the urge to cackle madly at the idea of truly caring about another human being was not there. Instead, gentle warmth drove away the coldness seeping into his bones as the boy's surgical fingers worked efficiently. Talk about irony.

Had he not found, and subsequently fed that starved little boy all those years ago, perhaps he would have been ruthlessly cut down by the monster Yagura with none to mourn his loss – or, without the thought of poor little Haku all alone, he may have fought with the spirit of a man with nothing to lose and struck him down.

He will be my demise, he thought, and after living the life I have, I cannot bring myself to care…

"Fear not, Haku," he rasped, tugging at the fresh bandages binding his waist tighter – the stinging pain brought clarity to him and cleansed him the sluggishness threatening to engulf him again, "for the day I die, it shall be with steel in my hand and in my heart – not on some sickbed after retreating like a coward."

Fear cut deeper than the sharpest blade – it was a lesson learned through trial and tribulation, one that only those truly worthy of calling themselves shinobi would learn. He was still fresh after properly handling the whelp of the Shinobi no Kami, yet once he had felt the sinister chakra he knew could only be one thing, the battle was all but decided. The oppressive wave of carnage and malice had zeroed in on him like a bull's-eye and he knew a lesser man would have been slain without raising a hand in his own defense.

Facing true demons, I have fled twice. Shame washed over him and his hand clenched into a fist, nails biting into flesh. I shall not flee again…

IIII

Thrust – not too rough…

Pull – the key is getting just the right amount of friction when withdrawing…

Pleasured sigh – a guy sure could get used to this…

Repeat – sensei said repetition is the key…

A rude noise tumbled from the back of Ino's throat. When he stopped halfway through another thrust she grunted and said, "You're almost as bad as sensei."

Naruto shook his head and ignored her, continuing his ministrations whether she liked it or not.

The kunai slid smoothly across the small whetstone, gleaming bright and fierce in the sun's morning rays. Turning the all-purpose tool over, he dragged it once more, bringing the blades opposite side a dangerous edge to match its counterpart. Raising the weapon to eye-level, he inspected it for any nicks he may have missed with a small, satisfied grin.

One down, Naruto thought, triumphant in his small victory.

Pocketing the weapon, Naruto turned to his blonde teammate, only to find Ino inspecting her nails, legs dangling airily off the side of the incomplete bridge. "You should probably make sure all of your equipment is ready to go, too."

She flashed him a winning grin of all white teeth. "A lady is always prepared for any given situation," she quipped, her grin quickly morphing into something else, "but I must say, Naruto, your equipment sure does look…sturdy."

Flushing brilliantly, Naruto turned his attention back to the arsenal of kunai at his disposal, quickly finding another to keep himself busy with. "Stop being such a tease, Ino," he muttered.

"We all have our weapons, Naruto." Intently focused on the kunai in hand, he could not see her, but the smile could still be heard in her sultry voice.

"So this is a spar?" he inquired, checking the plucked kunai for any significant damage. A red-turned-brown stain clung to the small piece of previously-white tape wrapped around the handle and Naruto wondered if it was bad karma holding on to something as insignificant as a kunai previously used to end a man's life. Perhaps some of the vets back in Konoha all did, breaking them out on occasion when telling their old time stories over some sake.

Maybe some have lucky kunai that managed to save them in a tough spot, he thought. Maybe some are even from the Kyuubi –

He strangled that thought with prejudice. He had revealed his deepest, darkest secrets to the few he trusted above most others and come out intact – emotionally and physically. Shikamaru – the damn genius that he was – had actually deduced he was the Kyuubi's jailor weeks prior with some careful prodding of their sensei and his parents. Ino, on the other hand, had been shockingly quiet and withdrawn – guilty, if Naruto didn't know any better – until the pair reached the unfinished bridge with its builder, the next day.

In the revelation that the mighty Kyuubi – legendary destroyer of villages and devourer of men and women alike – was most definitely not dead and actually residing within his belly, the fact that he held something as mundane as a summoning contract slipped by without much notice, though Asuma had nodded thoughtfully, as if he too had already known beforehand.

Dokueki will be disappointed, Naruto thought glumly. We put a lot of effort and practice into that story for when the right moment came along…

His inner-debating came to an end as Ino suddenly shuffled closer and he grew warier at once. "Think of my wit and…appeal…as a kunai, and you – well you, right now – are my whetstone." Her leg – creamy skim unblemished by any hair whereas his remained unshaven and rough like a man's – brushed faintly against his and his motions came to a sudden halt. "You know, grinding and sliding against each other all hot and wet…"

The kunai fell from one slackened hand and the whetstone his other, Ino's throaty laughter spiraling around them all as Naruto buried his burning face into newly freed hands.

"Stop flirting, you two!" Tazuna turned towards the pair to bellow, Inari trailing behind him with a clipboard in hand while the hardhat perched atop his head wobbled haphazardly, as though it would not survive a strong wind.

Naruto chortled freely while Ino hid her mirth behind the protection of a hand, his embarrassment momentarily forgotten at Inari's sake. Suddenly finding himself at the center of attention, the little boy's cheeks lit up like a lobster dumped in a pot of boiling water as he quickly scrambled after his grandfather, putting as much distance as possible between himself and the pair of sniggering ninja.

Naruto was glad to see the kid doing something other than moping around and worrying his mother and grandfather to death with his chronic depression. It just wasn't healthy.

"I haven't seen you laugh like that in a while," Ino noted, when the laughter finally faded.

And here it is, he thought grimly, schooling his face like he had done before, so many other times.

Naruto glanced briefly at Ino, noticing her perfectly-kept brows furrowed deep in thought. "Maybe you never really looked," he commented, trying to keep the heat out of his voice. "People fear what they don't understand and ignore what doesn't deserve their fear."

Her pretty face collapsed like a house of cards. "I don't fear you, Naruto," she whispered.

He nodded, getting right to the heart of it – best to be quick about it. "You just chose to ignore me like nearly all the others, disregarding me as I was just a worthless orphan not worth your precious time – time that could have been spent chasing after Sasuke-kun." The bitterness in his voice was not directed entirely at her – he hoped she knew this – but she was right there.

…And yet the thought that he was doing to her – Ino, he reminded himself with the mental equivalent of a rough shake – what the people of Konoha had done to him, shamed him more than the Sandaime had done those many years ago.

She turned away from him. "We were just kids," she said, barely above a whisper, though he heard her easily above the crashing waves below them.

For a moment, he wondered it that was his curse to bear in containing the Kyuubi, for he had yet to find any other than loneliness and solitude: hearing what is not meant to be heard – literally and figuratively – or living beyond things he ought not to survive.

He shook his head to himself as he stood. When the time came he would speak with the beast and they would have words, but now was not the time. Forcing a smile and hoping it looked as genuine as the feeling in heart was, he extended a hand to Ino. "That's why I have already forgiven you."

IIII

Stuffing both hands deep into his pockets, Naruto shuddered.

There was a nip in the air that felt almost unnatural – a cold wind steadily rising as time went on, in sharp, sudden bursts it would seem. The rain clouds looming overhead with the promise of a downpour did not help.

"Does this place always look so grim?" Ino pondered aloud, twirling a daisy in her hand before bringing the delicate flower to her nose and taking a deep whiff. She cast it away after a moment, the flower landing atop several others that had been plucked in an empty container that once held their lunch – the bright and colorful flowers laid a sharp contrast against their gloomy surroundings.

Naruto gave a halfhearted shrug and removed a hand from within his pocket to dishevel the hair of a small, brown haired boy by the name of Raito who quickly scurried away, boxed lunch in hand. "So far, from what I've seen?" he responded, musing over her words. "Yes," he said after a moment, "and this shitty weather isn't helping either."

She shook her head. "My admittedly low opinion of Tazuna keeps rising," she said dryly. Naruto snorted, his eyes now scanning the crowded streets they stood to the side of as Ino spoke again. "For a drunk, he has his priorities set straight, I'll give him that much. Most men would break under that kind of pressure –" she tore apart a weed in her hand, "– but not the gallant bridge-builder Tazuna!"

Naruto thought much the same. Most men would crack or bow down to the mounting pressure – that much was obvious, given the recent decrease in able men working on the bridge – but not their employer.

"Have you finally managed to collect enough flowers yet?" Naruto asked, quickly trying to do a rough count of the daises. The humble garden that Ino helped Tsunami tend to did not possess anything other than the greens used in her cooking – the odd herb for seasoning, a few vegetables here and there – but Ino was having none of that. She would see a proper garden in the works before they left Wave. "As much as I like playing with the kids –" he ignored her snort, "– I don't like being around all these people we know nothing about."

"I suppose I have," she sighed, gazing longingly at an untouched patch of flowers Naruto could not put a name to.

Discarding whatever they no longer had any need for, the pair began making their way back towards the bridge. Lunch was soon to be over and even though Tazuna had been the one to cheat them, he still liked to complain as though he was the one being shorted horribly. Never mind Naruto had dozens of clones helping work alongside what little crew he had left.

"What do you think sensei and Shika are drawing up?" Ino asked as they began weaving their way through the crowded streets.

"No idea," he muttered as outlandish and heroic ideas quickly began drifting through his head, each one grander than the one before. "Maybe they'll have me infiltrate Gatou's organization under the guise of a peasant farmer, and under the cover of night while they sleep soundly and comfortably in their beds, I'll assassinate all of his forces one-by-one!" He nodded to himself; if anyone could get this most daring of jobs done, he was the man. "Sounds about right doesn't it – hey, what're you doing?" he demanded, indignant that Ino was nowhere to be seen and definitely not in hearing range of his tale.

Ino pranced back over, a white flower held delicately between her fingers and a sheepish look on her face. On closer inspection, however, he noticed thin blue veins running throughout the flower as well as a total of five petals, each one's tip shaded a vivid blue. "Nemophila maculata," she intoned, a sad smile resting upon her face. "Father told me this used to be mother's favorite flower."

Naruto frowned at left being out of the loop – he didn't know the name of Ino's mother or what she even looked like. "What happened to –"

"Another time," she said briskly, her sea green eyes flashing like a raiton technique. She calmed after a moment. "He told me this is supposed to be good luck, too." She smiled then. "I think I'll have this one pressed when we return to Konoha."

Naruto snorted as they began walking again. "I can see what you mean by good luck," he said, chuckling darkly.

"How so?" she asked, curious.

"Easy," he replied. "You see, there are five petals – one for each of our hands; two for me, two for Shika and one for sensei."

"That's just plain stupid – and what about me?" she demanded.

Naruto waved a hand dismissively. "You found the flower so you don't count." He stopped after a moment. "Actually, you do. You're the stem," he decided, grinning.

Ino frowned, clearly not liking being considered to a stem but nodded after a moment, resigned. "I guess you're right," she conceded. "I do tend to hold this team together. Without me we'd fall apart."

"Nope," he said, grin widening. "You always seem to have your head buried in the dirt!"

When she did not have witty retort, for a moment, Naruto wondered if he had genuinely hurt her feelings and an apology found itself resting on the tip of his tongue. And then he saw just what had made her silent.

She clucked her tongue disapprovingly. "Poor thing just wants some medicine for their sick father and the bastard's prices are positively foul."

Naruto shook his head, eying the pink-clad girl appreciatively. "Some of the people here have no shame."

"– if you need it so badly, make it yourself!" he roared.

"I would," she snarled back, "but I don't have that much time!"

The man swelled importantly at her words. Naruto, on the other hand, tugged his jacket a little tighter at the return of the nip in the air. Where the hell was it coming from?

"Well it seems you have a problem, missy." He gave her an undisguised leer. "Spend the night with me and come morning I may have what you so desperately seek."

"That's disgusting," Ino muttered and Naruto had to agree. Truly shameful for a man to suggest a think with such a young and pretty –

The dark haired girl flushed, enraged. "I'm a boy!"

Naruto saw the man pale as he choked on spittle – Naruto wondered what his own face must look like. "Get – get away from here you little freak!"

"And that's what you get for calling me stupid," said Ino gleefully, prancing off towards the boy.

Naruto's head still felt foggy. And to think, for a moment there I thought she – he, not a she! – was prettier than Ino! Good thing I kept that thought all to myself…

"– sorry about your father," she was saying to the boy. "I myself am something of an expert when it comes to plant life and could be of some assistance to you."

"That's fine," he said in a quiet, polite voice that was nothing like the one he had previously been using – like night and day, just like his gender-swapping, Naruto thought. "I simply do not possess the required amount of time to create the items I require, ingredients aside."

Ino was tapping her foot impatiently when he reached them. "I could still help you out," she pressed on. "Make that pig back there see reason."

Naruto held the unnamed boy's eye when it caught his, watching him curiously for he wore an extremely guilty look whenever looking at Ino. When their eyes met, however, there was a simmering rage deep in those dark, polite pools. "I wouldn't want to impose upon you and your friend."

Ino waved a hand through the air as if it settled the discussion and Naruto knew she was going to do whatever her heart desired whether they liked it or not. "Just you wait and see – come back to the stall in ten minutes. Naruto, let's go."

She turned without waiting for his answer and Naruto followed obediently, casting one final look at the strange boy.

"I don't like him," he said, when they were safely out of his hearing range.

"That's just because you made a fool out of yourself and none was there to laugh."

He pouted. "Still," he insisted, "he seems a bit…off."

"What do you expect, huh? His father is likely dying!"

"Whatever," he grumbled. "What do you plan on doing?" he suddenly asked, dreading the answer. "You aren't going to – to – you know…"

She slapped him on the arm. "That's gross!"

He was still rubbing his stinging bicep, relived, when they made it to the stand. The people filling the streets were pointedly ignoring the man and his shout of sales and deals as he and Ino came into sight. He was worriedly stroking his large, forked beard with even thicker fingers. The oily grin he previously wore returned, full blast, barely so much as offering him a look when he took notice, particularly at Ino.

"Hello there, little lady, how may the great Ko be of assistance?"

Ino toyed with the edge of her skirt, eyes downcast as if afraid to meet his eyes – that was not very Ino-like. "I heard that boy asking you about medicine," she admitted, "and my daddy needs medicine for his hand." She looked up then, eyes shining bright and seemingly quivering. "I'll do anything for it."

Naruto, who had heard her use the exact same tone before, was able to resist flushing, but the man before him, who had not, flushed an obnoxious shade of red, his jowls quivering in what Naruto could only assume was delight.

Instead of blushing like virgin maid, however, Naruto saw red. "Ino!" he barked. "You said –"

"Shut up, Naruto," she snapped, turning away from him. "Please, show me your stores so I might see what I'm buying." She was shy and demure again and Naruto's head felt like it was spinning.

"Very well, Ino-hime," he said, quickly offering his arm which was politely refused – Naruto could not hold forth his vindictive snigger. He turned his beady little eyes on Naruto for the first time, then. "Go on home, little boy." His voice was patronizing with a self-satisfied lilt to it and Naruto wondered if he could kill the man and dispose his body without anyone pointing a finger at him.

Ino cast him a reassuring smile and followed him into the hideous looking shack a few feet off that held his wares.

I could do it, he thought with certainty as the foreboding metal door grinded to a close. No one would miss him either – I'd be doing this place a service in killing a pervert like him, preying upon girls like that! I could drown him with a water technique, burn the body to ashes with a fire technique and scatter the ashes with a wind technique…

He was furiously grinding his teeth when a gentle hand suddenly touched his shoulder. When he turned, his plans did not cease.

"This is your fault and if he hurts her, I'll kill you for it." The words were held no room for argument.

The androgynous looking boy wore a small smile. "I could say the very same to you, my friend."

He shrugged off the hand and words – both were polite and held a frosty courtesy that rubbed him the wrong way; a blanket of snow still left you freezing, he looked at it. "What's your name?" he demanded.

"Haku," he replied, not missing a beat – an offering, Naruto took it as: a token of goodwill. "And you are Naruto, yes?"

Naruto's reply was an affirmative grunt. Damn Ino for letting my name slip and putting me at a disadvantage! Now the little prick's trying to play nice!

The silence that followed was tense and…chilling. No polite conversation was made and Naruto was glad for it. He didn't want to make friends with a potential enemy – you never know who you may have to kill one day.

When then metal door began shrieking its way open, Naruto was more than relieved. It died, however, when the man stepped back into the light, adjusting his clothing with a self-satisfied grin.

A furious pounding began then; drums beating to a horrible pattern that rang cruelly in his head while a red haze began blurring his vision like unshed tears of blood – only it wasn't blurry, his vision was sharper and clearer, it was better than ever before. His whiskers were just starting to itch when a furious gasp caught his attention, his head jerking to meet Haku's enraged gaze.

"Calm yourself," he hissed, and Naruto would have sworn he'd seen a brief glint of steel.

Just who are you, Haku? he thought when Ko was in front of the stall once again, steadying himself along his stand. The flash of steel shouldn't really surprise him in a place like Wave, especially with men like Ko lurking around every corner, but nothing explained the sudden drop in temperature.

Naruto twisted away from Haku and set his sights on his more hated of foes. He so wished to glare at the man – and he very well did for just a moment – but all of his anger melted away like ice against the flame of Konoha's roaring Will of Fire.

There was a very distinct and unmistakable smirk upon his face. And, after a moment, Naruto felt his own lips spreading into a feral grin.

"Everything must go!" Ino shouted in a man's voice that was most certainly not her own.

People gathered and the stall was stripped clean along with the storage unit as well by the time Ino and Naruto finally made their way back to their quarters, completely forgoing returning to the bridge for the day.

Haku had been polite and generous in his thanks, but Naruto still did not trust him and said so.

Ino sighed as they reached Tazuna's house, pausing at the door. "The pig back there was an out-of-shape civilian that posed no threat to someone like me," she said haughtily, "and someone had to help Haku, Naruto." She gave him a look that killed any possible retort. "I thought you of all people would understand that."

Naruto wore a queer look as they gathered for dinner that night and was noticeably subdued. Ino's words bounced around in his head and deep down he knew she was correct – they had done the right thing, stealing aside, though the man had it coming and as ninja they were generally soft-spoken when it came to stealing.

He glanced at the white flowers resting in the middle of the table as Inari chattered about his day to any that would listen, his finger circling the rim of the glass in his hand, a single cube of ice bobbing about in a sea of red liquid. He downed the tangy concoction and crunched on the ice till nothing remained.

If we did the right thing, why do I feel like we spent our time helping the wrong person today…

IIII

Author's Notes:

Gave Ino her moment in this chapter. Wasn't needed for Shikamaru and Asuma seeing as they never had much against Naruto. Ino on the other hand, was, and still somewhat is, just a girl infatuated with Sasuke. For anyone still wondering she took over Ko's mind with the Yamanaka mind transfer technique.

Translation:

Shinobi no Kami – God of Shinobi / Ninja (Sarutobi's nickname for the uninformed out there)