A/N: whatup peeps, its me, that annoying person who drops massive reviews and is a lazy bum in my writings, not to mention my bad sense of humor X3
as for this, i decided to finally put a long-thought-out idea finally into text, i got a summary in a notebook somewhere, and i was looking at it when suddenly the damn thing wouldn't leave me alone, so here you go...
also, check me profile for the extended summary, i moved it to the buttom under my 'posted' stuff, or just skip to the bottom, it should be that one...
Dis: i only feel like saying this once really, the whole naru-verse-thingy that hath spawned us many afan to write strange alter-verses of the original naru-verse is owned by kishi-kun... the plot and what very, and i mean VERY few OCs that kinda, sorta, maybe will pop up here and there are mine...
General Warning: i will cuss, i will write gore, i will write sexual adult situations, innuendoes are my friends, there may be a few spoilers here and there from the Manga, and any scene i deem we all know too terribly well and isn't really changed i will more then likely not write, so you don't have to read it, anything else i forget to warn you about... well i'll remember when its necessary...
on with the show:
Freedom, it is what he felt as he ran through the forest, jumping between the leaves, branch to branch, as high and as fast as he could. He honestly felt like flying, with the wind blowing through his rustic fur, and the breeze speaking sweet nothings in his long ears. Kami, did he love the forest. To any other it was a fleeting dream that passed them as they went to far off lands, to him it was his home, and he wouldn't trade it for the world.
He landed softly on a large branch, his soft pads making naught a sound as he moved softly along it. He moved with an unknown grace, his fur shining in the sun reflecting an early sunset, as his long luxurious tails swayed behind him. How he loved his home, a pleased smirk never leaving his sharp face.
He padded to the edge of the large branch, looking below in to the darkness of the forest floor with his sharp crimson eyes, before deciding it was safe enough and leaped to a lower branch, then another, and another, until he made his way to the well worn trail below. His tails swayed as one when he stood on the firm ground, calmly trotting along the beaten trail. Few other creatures used this trail because it was his, his scent and markings all over the shaded area. It was his trail home, and no thing dared trespass on it. Or so he thought.
He was close to the end, to his den, when a scent hit him, one he was terrified to smell, especially now: his mate's blood. He immediately rushed through the underbrush, ignoring the beaten path for a far more direct route, as his paws brought him closer the scent became thicker, and the sound of his vixen's yelping became more prevalent. His crimson eyes narrowed as his youkai began to escape his steadily growing form. He knew his mate's scent, he knew the smell of her birthing blood and sounds she made when kits came, neither were present, the blood he smelled was too pure, too much, and her yelps too faint. It was too early for the kits to come so that left only one option: intruders.
He came barreling out of the underbrush as he heard the sounds of ningen, pathetic human mortals daring to defile his home. He was now the size of a man and his coat a dark crimson as he entered the scene before him: humans killing his mate. Rage burned in his heart as his fur stood on end, his youkai freely escaping as he let out a primal roar, drawing the attention of the humans. He killed those close to him quickly, the pieces of metal adorning their heads telling him they were ninja, and stood protectively over his wounded mate. A piece of his heart was torn apart as he could smell the dead kits, torn from his mate's womb and crushed by these degenerate humans. He could hear his mate's yelps and cries, she had never lost kits before and how it tore at her, she didn't even bother to heal her wounds, and he knew she would be dead soon from the grief. He lowered his large muzzle to hers, showing the last tenderness he would ever get to share with her, as he felt Shinigami pull her soul from her body.
She lay limp below him, her body losing its once abundant warmth, and for a moment he mourned.
But his sadness quickly waned as an all-consuming rage burned within him and consumed him. His feral blazing eyes found the remaining ningen, a cursed and putrid chakra exuding from their twisted forms. How he hated them. In a moment the forest floor before him, his once beautiful and loving home, was drenched with the blood of his mate's killers, their aberrant chakra paling compared to his burning youkai. And as he growled and panted his rage did not wane, these 'things' were only grunts, no minded trash sent to do a job, they may have been the hands, but they weren't his mate's REAL killers, and his rage wanted revenge, revenge for his mate. It called to him for the blood of all who were involved; he wanted the real killer, and all of their kin. He remembered the metal on their heads marking them ninja, a quick glance at the symbol and he knew his next target.
Letting loose a furious roar he pushed forth all his youkai, releasing it to its greatest might as his body grew, and grew, and grew to accommodate it. At his peak size, well above the forest, and towering over the greatest and mightiest of the trees he once called home, he headed towards his enemies' home, to the human village marked by the leaf.
High above the howling wind and the raging flames, he stood in all his bloody glory, his nine tails spread to their fullest, a single flick of any of them causing the ground below him to shake, with another a mountain would crumble, another and a tsunami rose to crush everything before him. In his true form, at his height, his pinnacle of power he dominated the battle before him. Blood filled his nose, fires burning in his eyes, the ground shaking below his feet, fear palatable on his tongue, how he loved and enjoyed the sensations as he slaughtered the foolish ningen that dared to face him.
Then without warning a cry reached his ears, not one of fear or rage, but one of an infant's. Somehow it reached his large ears through all the chaos and carnage around him. His mind running solely on blind rage, but somehow the human-kit's cries reached past his ears. An almost wonder as to why a kit would be on a battlefield passed the sane part of his mind, buried too deeply to be registered by the bloodlust that was in control. His colossal form turned towards the human-kit's cries and he came eye to eye with the mighty toad lord, a couple of ningens sitting atop his warty head, and in the female's arms lay the child in question.
His crimson eyes narrowed on the Hume-kit, its cries still the only thing in his large ears. The blonde male stepped protectively in front of the red-headed female, his demeanor claiming her as his mate. The great demon's rage-filled eyes narrowed at that, a painful reminder to his cause. He inhaled deeply as the blonde male spoke, his words falling on deaf ears, as the great fox's attentions remained on the female. Many scents came to him, mostly blood of those who fell to him, but what caught his attention most was the blood on the red female. It was not normal blood, like that lost in battle, but birth blood, as if the Hume-kit in her arms had just come into this world.
A twinge of grief befell the sane part of the fox-lord's mind, surprisingly making it through the haze made by his bloodlust and rage. How could he, that part called to him, how could he tear apart these people the same as those had done to him? Was he so low and bitter as to cause the same suffering to another? His eyes took in the Hume-kit, the one who's cries reached him, he looked into the eyes of the female who held him protectively, a deep regret filling them as if she knew she would die soon and her son would live without her or the male next to her, and finally he took in the clear eyes of the blonde male, who looked directly back into his crimson ones with his clear blue orbs. Something of a question posed in the male's eyes, a secret he seemed to keep from his female, one where he would take whatever burden was agreed upon between them. He looked behind the pair and his now-clear eyes could see the Shinigami standing at the human male's beck and call, as if waiting for an agreement to be met.
He didn't know his words, but the fox-lord knew his question: kill us both and die, or kill me and be reborn? A part of the great lord's mind scoffed at the idea, as if he had to choose. His answer was obvious. He would not be the same as those cursed humans, he would find the truth, and he would have his true revenge.
The great fox demon let loose a mighty roar, his answer given, as the Yondaime began a second series of seals, ones his wife had never seen before, and she knew were not the same as the seal they had agreed upon. Her eyes widened as he finished, the Kyuubi a hair's breadth from them, his hand raised as he touched the demon-lord. There was a blinding flash, and when it was over her husband was kneeling over her, a hand placed on their son's stomach.
Everything was strangely quiet, not a sound was heard as she looked at her husband. She noticed the concerned look on his face and sad smile that lay on his lips. She didn't know if it was a mirage or not but she thought she saw a ghost behind him, placing its large hand through her husband's chest and placing it on her son, on the same spot his hand was. She blinked and the apparition was gone. Her husband seemed to finally notice her gaze, his clear blue eyes finding hers, and again everything was silent. He stared at her a moment, then moving his hand from his son to push stray red hair out of her eyes. His gaze was warm and soft and she was reminded of the millions of times she had seen his smile before. His hand cupped her face and she swore it began to feel cold, something clicked in her mind as she looked back at his blue eyes noticing how cloudy they had become. His mouth moved as if to say something but no words escaped them, he smiled again at his futile effort and continued to look at his wife. And when his hand fell from her face and his eyes became distant and blank, she knew he had passed away.
Tears came first; her mind not wanting to believe what was before her, but her eyes knowing the truth. She sat up, realizing for the first time that she was on the barren ground instead of on Gamabunta's colossal head, her eyes still glued to her husband's still face, his body stuck in the same position of kneeling before her, disturbingly still. One hand held her son, THEIR son, as her other dared to reach for her lover's face; one she knew would be cold.
"Minato…" her voice was pin-drop soft, she wasn't even sure she said anything. Her hand reached his face, and it was barely warm and growing colder by the moment.
"Minato," she said with more force, for some reason her mind not accepting what was right in front of her. Her hand found his shoulder.
"Minato!" her voice raised as she lightly shook him, still no response.
"MINATO!!" she screamed as she got on her knees, now forcibly shaking what she knew was just an empty shell. The child in her other arm, which had been oddly silent until then, began to cry, as if knowing the pain his mother was going through.
"MINATO!!" she screamed again, this time reason gone to her as she buried her face in his chest, clutching desperately to his white jacket. She heard no heart beat, nothing to comfort her that this was all a bad dream. Tears streamed down her face as she finally let her reality come crashing down.
"Minato…" she began saying his name as a mantra between choked sobs as she was openly crying now. Her son's wails joining hers as if somehow knowing he had just lost his father.
"I'm sorry…" came a deep tone from behind her husband's corpse, his voice so smooth that for a moment she thought her husband was speaking to her from the grave. When she looked up she found it wasn't him, but instead a man wearing nothing. His long blood-crimson hair flowed in the wind as his strange eyes stared at her. There was something in his eyes, regret maybe, as he looked at her. She didn't know if it was a mirage or not but this man looked like he had slited eyes, like those of a cat's or…
"YOU!!" she stood quickly, fatefully losing balance from exhaustion and stress, but instead of falling on the ground the nude man quickly and gracefully caught her, and was now carrying her bridal style, her son surprisingly still safely in her arms. At this distance she could see every feature of this 'man' from the navel up; he was lean but muscular, with strangely flawless skin, as if he'd never had an injury in life. On the sides of his face, along his jaw line around his ears there were four black slashes, like birth marks, but they were small enough to be hidden by the wild red mane that framed his face. But what mesmerized her and terrified her at the same time were his eyes, at this distance she could tell they were indeed slited, and a flaming crimson, they were the eyes of that beast, eyes she would never forget for the rest of her days.
She struggled in his arms, trying to break free from his amazingly tight grip, but when that failed she conceded to what she thought would be her soon death in this monster's arms. She cried, openly and without restraint, her husband was dead, and she was caught by the demon he tried to seal, the only thought that ran through her mind was that she'd soon be with her beloved Minato.
As if reading her thoughts her son burst into a deafening wail, one that almost cost the red-haired man to lose his grip, thankfully he didn't. He looked at the Hume-kit wailing in his mother's arms, as he adjusted his hold to make them both more comfortable, he had blonde hair like his father, even now being only a few moments old, three lines on both his cheeks, and an extremely complex seal on his stomach. He smiled, for some odd reason, "He will look like his father…" he said without thinking, an eerie kindness in his thought-to-be-harsh voice.
The red-haired female looked at him in shock, tears still streaming down her face; she had no idea what to think about what he'd just said. A disturbed smile graced her mournful lips as she glanced at her husband's corpse, then back at her son. She held him tighter, not wanting to lose that last piece of the man she loved.
A ghost of a smile graced the man's lips, sad and mournful. He looked at the blonde man's body once more, this human who stared him down, this human who challenged him, this human who stripped him of his power and confined him to this now human form, this human who beat him: Kyuubi no Yoko. He stared a moment more before nodding his head to the only human he would EVER give such high respect to. He looked back at his great rival's mate and kit and vowed to himself he would protect them, he owed that man that much. He noticed the still hesitant look in the female's eyes, that glassy expression that she still wished to die to be with her mate, how much he felt the same as her. He shook his head, looking at the kit, an odd spark of joy filling his broken heart, his smile returning. "Live for him…" his words leaving his mouth before he even registered it.
The female looked at him in shock a moment, before looking back at her son. Tears still stained her face but for some odd reason she smiled as well, she still had her son. She nodded, as if agreeing to the demon-turned-human's words, before leaning into him and drifting into an exhaustion-induced sleep, her son following her quickly, being oddly comfortable with the former-demon.
He smiled again at the pair. Yes, he now had a new purpose, even if only for a little while. A man and a monster died on the battlefield that day. A man, a mother, and a child walked away from it.
He let out a sigh as the dream, or memory, faded from his mind's eye, and the familiar darkness of his empty bedroom filled his vision. A calloused hand came up to rub his tired eyes causing spots to fill his vision. –Three years…- he thought to himself, it had been that long since he brought up his new 'cause' of protecting what that man protected, as his final respects to that great human. Three years, and all he had was waking up to dreams or memories of nightmares, of an empty feeling that he was failing in his promise to a dead man.
He sat up, rubbing the sleep and soreness out of his shoulder; it had been dislocated in his last mission and rather forcefully put back in. His mind wondered; what had he been doing all this time? After that night he had been incarcerated by ANBU, or what was left of the 'quality' ninja and given a mask to cover their face, he remembered a particularly annoying runt with a 'Dog' mask kicking him in the stomach as soon as he let the medics take Kushina and her son, Naruto. –And that little bastard is now my boss…- he thought bitterly. Yes, after his year or so of being held in the deepest, darkest dungeon the village had to offer, he was recruited by some old gimp-looking man named Danzo, who happened to be this village's biggest prick and a serious nut-job obsessed with war. In his former life he may have liked the bastard, now he wanted him dead, even more then that 'dog'.
He sighed "At least that's over with…" yes, his time with Danzo was short. After the war-hawk presented his plans to the council about turning the 'Kyuubi' into a weapon, which ironically most of the council agreed to, the Third Hokage immediately had him transferred to his home and officially put under his protection. It wasn't long later that the Hokage offered him a position as a ninja, to help him fulfill his promises.
"Heh, that old monkey has a way with words," a soft grin being placed on his lips as he remembered that scene, it truly was fantastic to see that bandaged freak get outmaneuvered by a guy who looked twice his age. "He even gave me a name, instead of just calling me 'that monster' like the others…" his eyes taking on a nostalgic gleam, "Yoko," that was the name Sarutobi gave him, no one can say the old man didn't like being ironic. A foxish grin plastered itself on 'Yoko's' face.
He quickly got up out of bed, even though he could tell it was still in the middle of the night he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep. He looked out his bedroom window and spotted the crescent moon raised high in the sky. He was a fox, even if he was now human, and he loved the crescent moon, and often on nights like this he just couldn't sleep, too many memories finding him, too many dreams escaping him, and he often woke, as he did tonight, with an urge to move and dance and frolic under the stolen moon.
He went to his dresser, and reaching behind it found the secret spot behind it to reveal a fake wall, he slipped his hand in and retrieved his ANBU uniform. Yes he, the former Kyuubi no Yoko turned human, was an ANBU of the village he once tried to destroy in a bloodthirsty rage, how ironic. –and my name is 'Yoko'…- his foxy grin finding his face again, if that old man hadn't already been claimed by the monkey clan, he'd have certainly thought him a fox he could like. He withdrew his hand and stared at the 'Fox' mask on top of his uniform, -As if he needed to give any more clues as to 'what' I am, he goes and hand makes me a 'Fox' mask, despite that being against normal ANBU code…- a sigh escaped his mouth, before his grin came back –Yep, definitely a fox I could like-
The former-fox quickly donned his uniform and sliding his mask in place with a year's worth of practice, its grinning sharp smile reflecting his own behind it. After quickly finding his gear, in other oddly placed secret spots and fake walls and floorboards, he quietly lifted his window and slipped out as if he was never even there.
-If it weren't for that man…- he grinned, for once not thinking of his greatest rival as he thought that line, -that old monkey, I'd be the council's plaything…- his face became solemn behind his grinning mask, -I would have never been able to keep my promise, and I would have failed completely…- his silent steps continued along the rooftops, leaving no trace of his existence, and no sound to be followed. He thought back to Kushina and Naruto, throughout the year or so he was incarcerated and then held by Danzo they had gone through hell. Kushina had almost been arrested, on the simple cause that she was a foreign ninja, despite the fact she had been registered as a Konoha-Nin a few years before the whole 'Kyuubi incident'. Apparently the council and townspeople wanted someone to blame, and she became an easy target being a foreigner and claiming Naruto as the Yondaime's son, which Yoko knew to be the truth. –Humans who are afraid as far more cruel then I ever thought they could be, those bastards…- But thankfully the Sandaime was a kind old man and had the two placed under his protection, but it wasn't enough to stop the hatred that spread in the older generation.
A growl escaped Yoko's human throat, he didn't know how it started, or more importantly WHO started it, but somehow the knowledge that Naruto had some connection to his former self got out, and before the Sandaime could effectively enact his decree to 'never speak of the truth of Kyuubi on punishment of death' it had spread to the entire older generation, and damn did these people act with a vengeance. In the twenty-four hours that followed the start of Yoko's initial incarceration, when he had left Kushina at the hospital, there were 67 attempts on Naruto's life –and the damn kit wasn't even a day old yet!?- Kushina had refused any form of treatment that required her to be separated from her son, it wasn't until the Sandaime, still retired at the time, came to her aide did she dare to hand Naruto off to anyone else, and even then it was to the Third and the Third alone.
There was a bitter irony to the whole situation, because Yoko was held in the deepest, darkest dungeon Konoha had he essentially didn't exist, and with his emergence a year later his connection to the whole 'Kyuubi' incident didn't seem to exist. –The kit took the brunt of all the blame, and he and his mother have been suffering MY punishment since…- he stopped a moment and crouched on a rooftop across the street from a bar. His face became grim –Those people…- his grip on the cement became hard enough to crack it as he watched fellow ninja and civilian's get themselves plastered. –They threaten their heroes and idly allow the REAL scion of their most hated enemy to roam freely, and they even greet me cheerily simply because I wear one of their headbands…- he gritted his teeth –All because they know I'll protect them…- He hated it, the whole situation. Few if anyone knew who he really was, and those that did never said a thing, afraid he'd be able to hear, and instead put all their hatred on a boy barely old enough to talk right.
He shook his head; he needed to get away from these thoughts, not only were they too damn depressing, but they made him start to wonder about his choices on 'who' he should be protecting and why. –I promised Him that I would protect his mate and kit; I promised Sarutobi I would protect his village as my debt to him for protecting me from it…- He quickly left the bar, feigning ignorance when a fight started to break out when some Chuunin scum-bag frisked a girl he knew was jounin, at least. The yowls he overheard as the man became disturbingly acquainted with his family jewels certainly brought a smile to his once solemn face. –At least I don't have to protect them from themselves; else my job would never end…- he wondered about the girl at the bar, and made a mental note that if she ever got 'detained' for that he'd watch her, if only to congratulate her on her choice of 'punishment'. He laughed to himself as he leaped away –weak males should seek power before even thinking of touching a strong vixen…- the grin on his face solidifying his opinion of human's as being general idiots.
A/N: Ningen means humans, and in my opinion sounds more deragatory coming from a demon then just saying 'humans'... Kami are god/s
i'm giving out cookies to anyone who can guess who the girl in the 'bar' scene is, and extra special cookies to those that can acurately guess what she did to that guy...
and yes, i'm evil...