Disclaimer: Naruto is the work of mangaka Masashi Kishimoto, Harry Potter is the work of author J.K. Rowling. The author makes no claim to ownership of the aforementioned works and no profit from this fanfiction.

Uchiha Fukurou

Of Victories, Betrayals and Nightmares

Koharu and Homura met for tea. Homura planted a seal on the floor as he sat down, not entirely feigning the groan that ground out as he bent his knees. For a time the two drank in silence, "It is done." Koharu stated.

"Oh, he took the bait?" Homura asked surprised.

Koharu nodded, "For all that he is, he can still be outsmarted."

They were careful not to use any names.

"How did you convince them of what needed to be done?" Mitokado queried.

"A slight reworking of past events and evidence, Sarutobi left the job of covering things up to us after all." Koharu told him. She faltered slightly before continuing, "And a loyalty enforcing curse seal on one."

"How cruel, to be slain by they who he trusted in ..." Homura stated.

"Yet, as sad as it is, such cruelty is just the nature of our world of shinobi." Koharu finished the old proverb.

For Konoha...

An old grey cat opened its eyes from where it rested in the rafters. Lying still in the shadows above the conversing shinobi, it seemed to listen intently.

Water Country

The fiery defeat of the Mizukage was a shocking game changer. The battle ended with the surrender of the demoralized loyalists who survived the battle. It was yet to be seen whether or not there were any of Yagura's supporters willing and able to continue the purges in his stead. With the rebel's recent victory and the Daimyo's support it was unlikely that things would continue on sheer inertia alone.

By Ao's estimation the likely course of events would be for a delegation to open negotiations with whoever took control in Kirigakure. In the meanwhile the Liberation Forces would be working to consolidate their hold on the country during the window of opportunity that this victory afforded. Thinking of windows of opportunity Ao's mind turned to the question of their allies. What to do with them to be precise.

According to the old dogma taught to Ao, the ending days of a conflict was the perfect time for a betrayal. Making allies was nice but they were all in competition for resources. Old wisdom was that a shinobi should take the chance to strike at a strong competitor when his or her guard was down and their aid was no longer vitally needed. The security threat that Root presented was balanced against the chance that they might be needed in the event of the Kirigakure Loyalists deciding upon a last stand or guerilla warfare.

Ao was quite certain that Mei would not approve of betraying their allies. She perhaps hoped to parlay their connection with the black ops group into a more open alliance with Konoha and the Land of Fire. It would greatly help to restore the damage done to Water Country's economy, having a trade and military treaty potentially worth millions of ryo. Establishing such a treaty would also mitigate the problem of Konoha having too accurate a picture of Kirigakure's state of affairs. As shinobi it was mortifying to let such information out of their hands but it was better have an ally with such knowledge than an enemy.

With this in mind Ao approached the group of Root soldiers that had quickly surrounded and taken custody of their leader. He had collapsed after striking the Sanbi down with some mysterious jutsu. Ao wished that he could use his byakugan to assess Fukurou's state but from the wary stance of the man's well armed bodyguards he feared that such an action would be seen as provocative. The squad members assigned to Ao as support tensed slightly as they approached the ring of black cloaked AnBu bristling with naked weaponry.

It was a sensible response all considering. Root had come to earn a healthy respect from the rebels turned liberators as soldiers, assassins, saboteurs and general all round dealers of death. The men congregated around Fukurou looked akin to a disturbed hive of ants as their leader was treated. A healer, only distinguished from the other Root shinobi by the visible green glow of a medical ninjutsu of some sort, worked on Fukurou as he sat on a rock.

Seeing Ao approach, the Root commander waved away the medic peremptorily and stood. Rather than argue as Ao would have expected, the healer stood aside. His own medics were more concerned with healing a patient rather following the orders of a commanding officer who didn't know what was good for him. This medic instead acquiesced, let the patient stand and adroitly took up a guard position, drawing a set of steel darts from a fold in their sleeves. He or she quickly became another cloaked figure in the intimidating wall of death that surrounded Fukurou.

Right... AnBu medic...

Any notions Ao had of mounting a surprise attack on an unprepared ally perished as Fukurou stood to greet him. He was now much more concerned about surviving should Fukurou have at some point shared the same thoughts of betrayal as he. Given that the young man led a group initially founded by Shimura Danzo, the so called 'Darkness of Shinobi' Ao found that possibility to be quite high. Nervous, he struggled to find the way to divine the Root commander's future intentions.

Having expected Fukurou to be either unconscious or greatly weakened given his collapse, Ao was greatly discomfited to find the Uchiha standing there staring him down. It was easier this way to accept that this man before him, barely more than a teen, had struck down a Bijū of all things possible. Ao found himself quickly reassessing his plan of action. Confronting Fukurou with only a squad for protection against a half-platoon of professional killers was a bad idea.

The Uchiha's brow twitched in inquiry as Ao swallowed thickly and forced down the urge to wipe his sweat covered brow. There was no killing intent from the man his green eyes were flat and emotionless. Ao felt like he was talking to a corpse as he stumbled over his own words, unnerved.

"W-well, I wanted to know i-if you-your men needed medical attention."

Fukurou's eyes never wavered from Ao's own as he wordlessly shook his head in the negative.

Ao, heavily sweating, struggled not to seem hasty as he backed away, "R-right… Mei-sama wants to meet in the morning for an after action report."

Ao was well on his way back to Mei's camp when one of his subordinate's, a man named Ikkaku, hesitantly questioned him on his frazzled mood.

"Sir? Are you all right?" the chunin asked him.

But Ao ignored the query, choosing instead to mutter to himself, "Not human… not human…"

Root Base Camp

Back at the Root Camp, the Special Forces group were gearing up and preparing to leave with their wounded for a more secure location for the night. The medic that Ao had taken note of was already in their secret hideaway. It was a swamp that was a mere day's travel from Kirigakure. In her well equipped medical station there was but a single patient for Root shinobi medic, Kana. As she stood inside the private hospital tent Fukurou laid a body down in a dry field cot.

After doing so, the medic cut the controls animating the corpse doll. 'Fukurou' tumbled to the floor and rested there until Kana resealed it. Tiredly she removed her mask and revealed a face bearing a single sharingan eye bounded by seals intended to control the flow of energy through it. It was through the gift of the sharingan from her leader that the medic was able to so quickly produce a convincing body double from the corpse of a former comrade, felled in the recent battle. Even in death the deceased Root agent served a greater purpose.

On the medical cot lay her leader and master, Fukurou. The teen lay insensate and seemingly helpless as Kana treated him for mild chakra exhaustion and some sort of weird physical strain that affected all areas of his body equally. It was as though he had been subjected to a tremendous amount of pressure. She figured that it must have been a result of whatever technique her master had used to strike at the Sanbi near the end of the battle. His condition wasn't critical, but as former subordinates of Danzo, Kana and her ilk knew all too well the possible consequences of showing weakness under those circumstances.

Leaving Hyūga Hizashi, code-named Baku, in charge of overseeing their troops in Water Country as a whole while Kensei commanded the Root Leader's personal guard in Kana's stead. Kana herself was focused on healing the damage to Fukurou's body. As ever, she performed her task thoroughly and with great efficiency. With the aid of some pain relievers and a shot of steroids he would be up and running by the following morning, if only a little sore. Despite once having been in a similar position in the past, there was no danger to Fukurou as she passed her hands over his head. Successfully treating Fukurou and then setting guard over her patient for a sleepless night of observation. In a strange way, when Kana did so, it was with a feeling that was as close to satisfaction as she ever came.

It was perhaps a pity that she could not help Fukurou with his nightmares. Or heal his aching heart. The emotionally stunted woman wouldn't have known where to even begin, had Fukurou displayed any unconscious signs of his distress. It was probably for the best though, as messed up as it was watching his oldest friends die before him, Danzo's 'prize' students were a whole other dimension of psychological issues. At best Kana might have tried to offer Fukurou her body to use for stress relief and remedial psycho-sexual warfare training.

Fortunately the night was spent in uneasy dreaming for the erstwhile Root commander, impassively watched over by a completely loyal; and utterly amoral killer…

Fukurou's Dream

It was a nightmare that had haunted him in one form or another. A memory of a death he could not stop although he dearly wished to. Even in his dreams he was powerless to prevent what happened. It was night but the location wasn't a graveyard or an all too quite village compound. He was running up a flight of stairs. Running up the side of a hill trying to reach the shrine located at the top.

The shrine that overlooked a village…

The village that had been slaughtered down to the last man woman and child…

Perhaps he was wrong; perhaps some of the villagers too refuge up there. If they did his help would be needed.

No. This wasn't how it had happened. He wasn't that frail boy rushing headlong into disaster anymore. There had been an advance squad sent ahead and he had only made the trip later with a detachment of guards. As he thought this his eyes traveled from the top of the staircase that he was climbing to view the fearsome shadows flitting about him.

As if summoned by his attention, one of the shadows peeled off from the tree-line, trailing an afterimage of gleaming silver. His hand went up and stopped the blade before it could penetrate his chest. Even in his dream this nearly impossible feat was molded by his experience. The blade was grasped by the flat sides and his hands were covered in lightning. A wrench to the side snapped the blade and ripped the hilt from his assailant's grip. The flashing light illuminated the face of his attacker.

"Shigure?"

'Squelch!'

Blood dribbled from his shocked lips as a second blade sank into his chest, piercing his heart and lung from between his ribs

Sweet Agony!

From moment to moment he spun until at last coming to the top of the stairs. The wound his chest was gone. There was only a bone weary ache that penetrated the entirety of his being. He… did not wish to go on but the nightmare drove him forward. Despair snapped at his heels as the gloomy shrine loomed before him. With great apprehension he crossed the courtyard and mounted the steps. The sliding door was ajar and he could smell the effluent and blood even before a break in the clouds let pale red moonlight shine forth.

A man and child lay together in pools of blood.

He wailed then as he had wanted to the first time he had seen the nameless child slumped beside the dead Seven Swordsman of the Mist. Those utter bastards were killing children! What could a seven year old child have done to deserve such a fate! He cursed the world that would allow such a travesty, the Daimyo and lords who sat impotently as this travesty unfolded. He cursed the system of ninja that held no rules or laws of war that could not be broken at the whim of a ruler without international outcry.

He cursed himself for his helplessness.

He needed power.

More Power!

He felt something, a great presence that drifted past him like a leviathan of the deep but when he spun around there was only Hiko looking on with a neutral expression.

"Why did you have to die?" Fukurou cried out.

"Why do you care?" Was the question Hiko posed in reply to him, his head tilted like a curious bird's.

"You were my friend!" Fukurou passionately responded.

"But I hated you…" Hiko, sadly replied, "I was jealous of every step you took forward while I seemed to stand still. You and Shigure were so far away and I couldn't keep up."

"I-I…" The Uchiha stuttered.

"You always knew how I felt. You Uchiha understand hatred all too well," Hiko told him, "But you ignored it, let things pass. I hated you, my friend. I didn't trust in you at all. I was surprised that you would feel sad for such a wretched child…"

Fukurou turned his head away and the next words were from a memory of the time they spoke of the village's massacre.

"Fukurou… you really wanted to help that village huh?" Hiko had asked him after seeing his sadness.

...

"Fukurou, why are we even here in this messed up place?" Hiko had asked as Fukurou personally incinerated Ranmaru's corpse and scattered the ashes.

...

"…" Hiko watched in silence as Fukurou oversaw the feeding of orphans too young to be shipped out of the country. The way that Fukurou held a grinning child as if one of his daughters and smiled in contentment.

"Fukurou… you're not a bad guy at all…"

...

Shigure as always had been silent, keeping her own counsel beside her lover and teammate.

And so Fukurou dreamed…

Taizōkai

In Taizōkai, the world that was a womb and the womb that was a world there sat a luminous king in judgment over a mortal soul...

Fukurou's hopes, his dreams, even his darkest desires were all laid bare and tested in a string of nightmares.

The summoned being contemplated the mortal who had called to him and whose call had been answered by Him. This was not the Child of Prophecy but still… a Child of Prophecy. Hate called to Hate, Love called to Love. Darkness and Death…

The heavens were changing as the wheel of fate turned. Another chamber within the great Mandala was open. The time of Gods, Demons and Men was approaching. Fukurou's part in the great design was clear. He would fight or he would die and by his own actions and the actions of those like him, decide the fate of the world. The Age of Gods would come. The Age of Men would end. Or the Age of Demons would return once again and with it, death, destruction and chaos without end…

In truth, there was only one possible decision in the end for this being. An entity known as, He Who Battles Demons…

AN. Woo it's been a while, free time is hard to find and motivation even harder when you're tired. The site's editor occasionally spits out some confusing mistakes, deleting words, run together sentences and the like. As I edit this story on my own I sometimes miss things and have the re-read in detail five or six times. The twist in the Manga won't really affect the story most likely but it'll b interesting to see if I can use it. As always I do welcome advice on how to improve this story and interesting reviews are always a good motivation to write. TTFN.