ladyiceflame-blog

[ladyiceflame-blog]

Chapter Seventeen:  The Sweet and Stinky Snare

Her clothes were still wet, but at least they smelled good, Sakura half-lamented as she sped to meet up with the rest of her team, who were racing back to the campsite. “So, what’s the plan, Kaka-sensei?” Naruto demanded, as the jonin challenged their ability to keep up with his fleet pace, born of desperation. “At the moment, impromptu lessons in chakra control....and maybe breakfast,” Kakashi answered, as his own stomach snarled in complaint as the tantalizing aromas from Kumogakure’s cooking-nin compound welcomed their arrival. “Food!” Naruto exclaimed ecstatically, as Kakashi stopped a harried-looking cooking-nin maneuvering a large kitchen cart overflowing with pancakes. “Excuse me, but, may I speak with the Head Chef?” the silver-haired ninja politely asked. The cooking-nin recognized Konoha’s uniform flak-jacket at once, and raised his eyebrows in alarm.  It had been a brutal few days of non-stop, intensive cooking for these ninja chefs-in-training, and tensions were rather high.  And there only seemed to be one reason why people from other villages ever wandered into this culinary madhouse: “What’s wrong with Konoha’s breakfast?!?” the man asked, panic in his voice. “Not enough fresh fruit?” another cooking-nin suspected. “Was the rice chewy?” another added. Before Kakashi could answer, another three also assumed the worst, and tried to guess the non-existent problem: “The fish wasn’t broiled properly...?” “Did the natto taste funny?” “We’re using a new variety of tea....” “No, no, no!  None of that!” Kakashi held up his hands, smiling as placatorially as he could muster, as his genin helped themselves to the moving feast that now surrounded them.  “Its all been wonderful so far...” “Its this western-style cuisine, then!” another sous-chef suddenly barked, glaring at the large platter of kolachis he was carrying. “None of the other Lands like it!  We should have stuck to the basics! “The ‘basics’ are boring!  People want variety!” “People want ‘predictable’ for breakfast!  Save the surprises for lunch and dinner!” “Options!” “Traditions!” Suddenly a war had broken out between two factions, over the imagined complaint. “Cooking-nin are certainly paranoid,” Sakura quietly observed, as she ate one of the fruit-filled pastries. “They’ve always been a competitive lot,” Kakashi sighed, as a rather tall, authoritative woman exited the immense, main tent, and took a moment to sternly survey the chaos before addressing it: “BACK TO WORK, YOU MORONS!  People are hungry, and we’ve got a wedding to cater!  Slackers will be sent back to bussing tables in the Grand Cafeteria!” That last threat was sufficient to quiet all argument, and set the cooking-nin back to task. “She looks like a Head Chef to me,” Sasuke determined, as he chewed a filefish skewer he’d found. “I take it that you’re in charge here, ojosama...?” Kakashi began with a small bow, as he approached the woman wearing the impressive poplin chef hat, the flour-dusted apron, and the five-star armband on her left shoulder. “Yeah, I’m the ring-leader of this circus,” she admitted wearily.  “Are these clowns giving you trouble?” crossing her arms over her ample bosom, and smirking at the amount of food that the little kid in the orange jumpsuit was stuffing in his face. “Not at all,” Kakashi returned, as his students continued to graze from the steady traffic of passing carts and platters.  “I just wanted to know if you could spare us some mizuame....perhaps some curry?” “Mizuame and curry?!” her eyes widening.  “What kind of freaky breakfast is that?!” “A strange one, I admit,” Kakashi extemporized, “But my Fire Daimyo has odd tastes.” A little name-dropping at times could work wonders. The Head Chef wrinkled her nose, but smiled amicably. “Follow me, you weird, silver-haired, Leaf man,” she instructed, and led them into the massive kitchen-tent. Her earlier metaphor of a circus was an apt one.  Cooking-nin moved like trained acrobats in here; chopping ingredients, juggling baking trays, and tending to dozens of pots, pans and cauldrons.  In one corner, a large table groaned under the weight of a titanic, seven-tiered wedding cake in the process of being decorated by a trio of hyper-focused cooking-nin.  Naruto and Sakura fell under its magnetic spell, and moved closer to gawk. “That’s....gi-normous!” Naruto declared. “It’s so pretty!” Sakura breathed. “Of course,” the Head Chef took a moment to brag.  “Only the best for my dear Miri-chan.” Kakashi’s eyebrows raised at the woman’s familiar reference. “....except for where the groom’s concerned....” Naruto grumbled under his breath. Sakura gave him a swat to the back of the head. “...Alternating layers of the richest chocolate, and my signature lavender-champagne cake...” the Head Chef described, undeterred, “...Enveloped with white chocolate ganache, lilac buttercream cornelli lacework, a thousand Shimogakuran rose petals, and a pair of marzipan doves in a chocolate coconut nest on the top,” she concluded, holding up the cake topper for their inspection. “I think I’m getting diabetic by just looking at it....” Sasuke quipped. “I want one JUST like it for my wedding!” Sakura blurted in love-struck glee. “So...anyway, about the mizuame...?” Kakashi reminded. “Oh,” the Head Chef smiled apologetically, as she fussed with the wing of one of the doves, “It’ll be in the pantry over there, hun,” pointing to a long, adjoining tent.  “Help yourself, but I think we’re all out of curry powder, thanks to those spice-addicts from Tanigakure.” Wasting no time, Kakashi ran into the indicated pantry, and began to search the alphabetically-arranged shelves. “Why do we need syrup....or curry powder, for that matter?” Sasuke asked, following dutifly at his teacher’s heels. “Because working with the actual materials is always easier than creating it with chakra,” Kakashi returned cryptically, as he found a row of gallon-sized jars of the clear, sticky syrup, commonly used in the making of sweets.  “Now, help me find some kind of spicy ingredient...like chili pepper....” “That still doesn’t answer my question!” Sasuke intoned. “And why do we need so much?” Naruto complained, as Kakashi handed him a second jar of syrup. “Because I want Sakura to practice this little prank at least once before she uses it on Miriyume-sama’s team mates,” Kakashi returned. Naruto’s eyes widened in excitement. “Did you say, ‘prank’?!” the Uzumaki could hardly believe his ears. “I did,” his sensei confirmed, as he continued to browse the shelves.  “It’s a jutsu that I’ve used on Might Guy quite a bit, growing up.  A binding technique that usually bought me an hour or so of relief from his relentless challenges.” “A starch syrup capture field,” Sasuke derived aloud. “Very good, Sasuke-kun,” Kakashi returned. “But, what do you want the curry for?” the Uchiha had to ask. “Extra insult,” Kakashi returned.  “But that kind of back-fired in the case of Might Guy.  I may have inadvertently cultivated his curry-addiction,” he smiled, before a strange, pungent, pickled aroma wafted over to them.  Even behind the mask, the odd tang made him reflexively cover his nose. “Gah!” Naruto scowled in disgust, as the smell got stronger with every curious step they took, “What is that?!” “It smells like the time my Dad found rotten radishes in the fridge!” Sakura bemoaned, as they found the source; two cooking-nin, eating breakfast in a far corner of the pantry.  A large, ceramic jar sat open between them, containing the mysterious substance that was causing the stench. “Can we help you?” one of the cooking-nin asked, as he transferred some of the fermented vegetable matter from the jar to his bowl. “What on earth are you eating?” Sasuke moved closer to peer at the contents of the jar, and his eyes watered from the garlicky odors. “Nothing your delicate, foreign tastes could appreciate, I’d wager,” the other cooking-nin scoffed back, before savoring another mouthful of the piquant food.  “That’s why we’re forced to eat back here!” “I’ve heard of kimchi before....” Kakashi announced, “But I have never had the....pleasure.” “We’re willing to share, but our recipe isn’t for the faint-of-stomach,” the man warned.  “We tend to be more liberal with the hot peppers.” “Like...chili peppers...?” Sakura asked, looking to her teacher for concurrence. “Could I have a bowl’s worth?” Kakashi asked.  “I believe my Hokage would be most impressed.” Gekido took a thoughtful drag off his first cigarette of the day, as he surveyed the set-up crew for the main event of this grand gathering. The priest was purifying the general area with an onusa.  The miko was arranging the ceremonial sake cups and offerings on the alter.  A handful of his countrymen were hanging banners and arranging stools and blankets under the canopies of the cherry trees, and Wakame was directing the rolling out of the Bridal Path Carpet; a must for any Shimogakuran bride. Ancient lore from the northern tribes stated that if a bride’s feet were permitted to touch the bare ground on her final walk to the marriage alter, the jealous and hungry earth would steal her fertility through her soles.  Hence, the carpet, often in conjunction with a palanquin. He and Matsuko had been granted the honor of carrying Miriyume’s bridal litter from her tent to the carpet’s edge.  They would then escort her down the aisle, and stand respectfully on her side of the alter. Normally, palanquin bearers didn’t remain standing, and the bride and groom’s parents were more involved in a Shimogakuran ceremony.  But this was not a normal wedding. Aoseishin, who had been lounging nearby, sensed his master’s growing anxiety, and gave one of his strange, yodel-groans to distract his thoughts. “Can you believe what she’s talked us into, pal?” Gekido returned, giving the large, pale blue-tinged wolf-akita cross a comradely ruffle of the ears, “....because I can’t.” “Best start believing,” advised Matsuko, as he exited their bachelor’s yurt, and smoothed his formal deel’s lapels, then fussed with the yak bone toggles.  A glance at his team mate’s analogous deel caused his brow to furrow. Gekido’s deel was very plain by comparison...a grey twill with fur accents, compared to Matsuko’s maroon and gold cashmere.  It was also very wrinkled. “Shouldn’t you have waited to put that sorry excuse for formal attire on after bathing?  I mean, its bad enough that you’ll always smell like dog.  Must you add cigarettes and last night’s funky booze-sweat to the bouquet?” “Does my patented, sexy-mojo musk threaten your masculinity that much, Mat-kun?” Gekido countered. “If by ‘threaten’, you mean ‘offend’, then, yes.  You ‘threaten’ all our masculinity,” Matsuko retorted. “The swim in the lake will take care of that,” Gekido assured, “Then we’ll join the others for a post-ceremony sauna ritual.  Old Man Koriha is setting the stone lodge up now....” “Did you hear what happened to Miri-chan this morning,” Matsuko dispensed with the light banter, and squatted beside his friend and his ninken. “Wakame-san filled me in on most of the details,” Gekido whispered back.  “Some kind of sleepwalking jutsu...?  That might help to explain some of those mysterious disappearances we were investigating in the Whalebones Islands a few months ago.” “Renara-sama is seriously freaked out,” Matsuko continued.  “She thinks that Miri-chan’s playing chicken with forces beyond her reckoning.” Gekido squinted his slit-pupiled eyes, and cocked his head to one side, much in the way of a dog hearing a strange noise.  “When has Miri-chan ever ‘played chicken’ with anything, my usually-observant friend?” he scoffed.  “She just runs full speed at the target, never weighing the odds of anyone ever flinching.  Its always been up to us to come up with the strategy!” “Until now,” Matsuko reminded. “Until now,” Gekido acknowledged glumly.  “Moro’s Vengeful Maw, man!  You’re not helping my anxiety!” “Sorry,” Matsuko apologized, and stood up, helping himself to a nearby selection of breakfast kolaches.  “The Shimokhan and I just got back from what was supposed to be a private meeting with the Hokage.” Gekido chuckled, and stubbed out his cigarette.  “Heh.  Let me make a wild guess as to whom the party-crasher was....” The Inuzuka then pulled his Frost hitai-ate down over his left eye. “....AND his students,” Matsuko confirmed.  “They were all trying their absolute damnedest to get Ryuumaru-sama to cancel the wedding.  Gods bless them...” Gekido sighed wearily, and leaned back against Aoseishin’s fluffy bulk.  “One-Eye’s team seems to have thwarted some shady maneuver in that bog....right under our oblivious noses.  Again!  I suppose we need to be grateful for that.  Toss me a roll, will ya....?” Matsuko obliged, and offered yet more stunning revelation: “This Kakashi seems to have earned more than only our humble gratitude.  He met Raijin.” The strawberry-filled pastry fell half-eaten from Gekido’s suddenly limp hand.  “R–Raijin?  As in, ‘lord-god, people-suck-and-give-me-any-excuse-to-sizzle-your-guts’ Raijin?!?” “The same,” Matsuko smiled, as Gekido rolled to his feet. “But I thought Miri-chan mystically barred him from this event, figuring on the trouble he’d undoubtedly cause!” “She did, but that Sharingan must have found a way around her....temporary restraining order.” A small space of tense, mutual silence descended, as both men, and the ninken, contemplated the consequences of the Leaf jonin meeting the troublesome kami.   “So....” Gekido began, “Does Kakashi know....?” “I don’t think so,” Matsuko returned, sipping a cup of Kumo coffee.  “He does know that Raijin-sama was banished purposely, and has to be wondering why a priestess would do that.  That alone should raise Kakashi’s suspicions.” “So then, why wouldn’t Raijin-sama just enlighten him?” Gekido factored.   “When has the rebellious son of the Lord of Storms ever enlightened anyone?!” Matsuko countered.  “Even Miri-chan struggles to interpret his actions most of the time.  Raijin-sama is beyond mortal reason.  He is a jaded, vengeful god of chaos who seems to delight in tormenting humanity.  Being concise is not his style.” Another pensive silence. Aoseishin yawned his abdication of this futile analysis, and laid his head on his paws. “So you think he’s playing Kakashi?” Gekido speculated. “I’m thinking I don’t know WHAT to think anymore, and that we have to be prepared for literally anything at this point.  This treaty HAS to happen, if the Land of Water is ever going to move beyond the sins of their Yondaime Mizukage; and it would be most befitting if OUR land was the first to extend that hand of official friendship.” Gekido smiled, as Aoseishin perked back up.  The Takagawa clan had abdicated their royal heritage long ago, as a gesture of sacrifice to the shinobi ideals of Shimogakure.  But their noble character could never be extinguished. “Careful, now, or the Shimokhan might think you’re after his job....” Gekido teased. “Not interested,” Matsuko returned to watching the set-up crew.  “Our work outside the Land of Frost is too important.  And the three of us never fit in too well with provincial life, anyway.” Aoseishin barked. “I meant, four of us.  Sorry,” Matsuko apologized to the ninken. “Yeah,” Gekido chuckled.  “I can only listen to so many stories of yak shearing, or Old Man Juro’s giant muskmelon so many times.  And if I have to endure another retelling of Isamu Onogari’s record-breaking salmon catch one more time, I swear I’ll—“ ”Ohayogozaimasu, Matsuko-kun, Gekido-kun, Aoseishin-chan,” Wakame greeted warmly as she approached, wearing a regal black kimono embroidered with golden swallows in flight.  “Can I join you for breakfast?  I haven’t had a chance to eat yet.” “Please do,” Matsuko invited, graciously setting a stool for her. Wakame sighed appreciatively after sitting down, seeming to shed a little of the enormous weight she’d willingly taken onto her slender shoulders. “You’re running yourself ragged, Waka-chan,” Gekido warned.  “More so than usual.” “Look what I have to keep up with!” Wakame gestured to the campsite with the egg custard she had selected from the tray.  “Decorations, purification of space, seating arrangements, catering, music, last-minute arrivals...” she trailed off as she watched a small party from the Takumi Village enter the glen.  As her legs tensed to stand, Matsuko’s strong hand on her shoulder kept her in her seat. “Let the others attend to them,” he intoned.  “We need to talk.  How is Miriyume?” “She’s fine,” Wakame reported.  “She has no memory of fighting in that swamp.” “Sleepwalkers never do,” Gekido announced. “But Miri-chan isn’t a sleepwalker, Fuzzy,” Matsuko reminded.  “She sleeps like the dead. Always has.  That had to be a genjutsu attack.” “It was,” Wakame returned with a frown.  “Gintsubasa-sama said that she extracted a large amount of a specific yin-based chakra out of her when Miri-sama was in her crop.  One that Renara-sama remembers from her days in Uzushiogakure.  It invades dreams, and locks a person’s mind in a pleasant reality, while their body follows the genjutsu user’s commands.” “So why did he have her fight all these people in a scum-covered pond?” Gekido asked. “He was probably trying to lure her off somewhere for a quick fix,” Matsuko replied.  “Like he did after last night’s dinner.”  His strong eyebrows rose in light of a new realization: “....until Kakashi got in the way...” Gekido snorted contemptuously.  “Didn’t that use to be OUR job, Earthquake?!” “It still is, Fuzzy,” Matsuko returned, easily dismissing his teammate’s ire.  “Kakashi-san just seems to be a little better at it, lately.”  He had some theories as to why. “Then let’s put a stop to that flop-haired cyclops stealing all our glory!” Gekido demanded.  The Inuzuka’s competitive nature, combined with his protective, territorial urges were clearly driving him crazy.  He had always had problems with Miriyume’s prospective love-interests, very much in the manner of an over-protective brother. “Oh my honorable gods, they’re here!” Wakame gasped aloud, standing, as a trio of regal....beings, clad from head-to-toe in misty grey, voluminous burqas, appeared on the far edge of the clearing.   “You mean...her?” Gekido breathed. Matsuko nodded.  “She was invited.” “But I never thought she’d actually show up!” the Inuzuka riposted.  “No one’s seen her outside the Land of Water in years!” “All the more reason to hold to the plan, and do Shimogakure proud, guys,” Wakame straightened her already perfect posture, and moved to greet the latest arrivals.  “Its show-time.”

Sakura laughed in impish delight as she watched Naruto’s shadow clone desperately try to squirm free of the sticky mizuame-trap she’d created. “Just as I suspected, Sakura-chan,” Kakashi praised, as he tipped the bowl of kimchi into the remaining syrup jar.  “You’re a natural at this.” “You even made it smell like a bowl of ramen!” the real Naruto lamented, regarding the helpless struggle of his doppleganger. “Maybe you’ll do a little more looking before leaping, now, Naruto,” Sasuke taunted, wearing a sinister grin. “Aggh, why’d ya have to teach them this, Kaka-sensei?!?” Naruto whined plaintively, as Kakashi twisted the cap on the kimchi-polluted mizuame, and gave it a vigorous shake.  “I’ll never be able to trust a bowl of ramen around them again!” dismissing his shadow clone. “This prank never hurt Might Guy-san’s love of curry, did it?” Kakashi countered, handing the jar carefully to Sakura.  “It might have even intensified it.  But in all seriousness, Sakura-chan has the best chakra control, and therefore, the best suited to the task.” “I could have done it....” Sasuke grumbled. “I need you to do something else, requiring sharp-eyed henge, and all of your talents at restraining what I expect to be a very hostile bride,” Kakashi disclosed. “What about ME, datte-bayo?!?” Kakashi scratched at the back of his head, as his lone eye squinted shut in strange amusement, a slight blush reddening his cheek.  “Maa-maa....you get to be the guest of honor, Naruto-kun!”

Hiruzen took a long draw from his pipe, and tried to focus purely on the sensation of the earthy smoke swirling inside his lungs.  It worked for a few seconds. The Fire Daimyo and his extensive entourage had been placed directly behind the groom’s wedding guests...whoever they were.  They looked like a collection of dour constituents, or possibly members of his private army, dressed down in dreary-hued kimono.  They looked more like funeral attendants than wedding guests.   This was hardly the ideal placement for his notoriously fretful feudal lord. And he seemed to be one shinobi team shy of what had been promised. Perhaps it had been a mistake to involve Kakashi in this.  He had asked much of him all of his life.  Too much.  But it was in the belief that such demands had given him the only structure Kakashi had in life: the duties of the ideal shinobi. But everyone had their breaking point, when the call of one’s conscience....or heart, out-shouted the call of duty.  Had the prospect of paying witness to this ill-conceived union of that girl been his? “I could send Kiba-san out to look for him, if you wish,” Kurenai suggested softly.  She read his inner musings all too well. “That won’t be necessary, Kurenai-san,” the Hokage sighed.  “In this matter alone, I’ll not force Kakashi’s obedience.  I just honestly thought that duty always came first in his mind.” “I believe it still does, Sarutobi-sama,” the enigmatic woman with the crimson eyes returned, “It’s just duty to a different ideal at the moment.” Hiruzen smiled.  If anyone understood the complexities of harboring clandestine affections, it was Yuhi Kurenai.  Hiruzen knew of the love this woman had for his son, and he knew even more about Asuma’s pure adoration of her in return.  Yet for some reason, they refused to go public with their mutual affections.  He supposed that they had their reasons.... Sarutobi sighed again.  Love was wasted on the young. “What a beautiful day for a wedding!” the Fire Daimyo suddenly declared, raising his hands aloft to sun-dappled branches of cherry trees that sheltered them all.  “The weather is perfect!  The trees are in bloom!  Its as if an emaki painting has sprung to life all around us!” As his retainers gushed in agreement, Kiba turned to Hinata and mumbled: “This guy doesn’t get out that much, does he?” “His wife’s cat is far more traveled,” Shino seconded. “It...it is a lovely day....though,” Hinata opined softly, as a light breeze sent a handful of cherry petals fluttering down.  “I....wish the groom.....could match....” “Hinata!” Kurenai censured with a sharp whisper.  “Have some tact!” as the girl’s cheeks flushed in embarrassment. Kiba snorted derisively.  “That was tact.  Hinata-chan only wants what’s best for the Lady Ice Flame.  We all do.  And Tsuroyuni isn’t it.” Akamaru seconded with a yip. “Kiba, enough!” Kurenai warned, despite the deepening sense of pride she had for her students.  She was teaching them well.  “We were hired to be guards, not social critics.” Kiba folded his arms and scowled.  “My criticism always comes free-of-charge.” Hiruzen had to smile a little.  It was actually quite reassuring to know where Konoha’s youth stood in this ethical quagmire.  Rather resentful, it would seem.  It gave him hope for the future. As he contemplated on how to properly chide the Inuzuka’s lack of discretion, Sarutobi became aware of a sudden hush that had fallen over the Daimyo and his courtiers.  When he turned to determine the cause, he found them all staring at a mysterious trio, being seated by Lady Ice Flame’s nakodo, Wakame, at the front of the bride’s side of the audience. The three guests were completely hidden in the folds of their shimmering grey garments.  Even their eyes were veiled. “Who are they?” the Daimyo demanded breathlessly, utterly spellbound. “I believe that they are from a reclusive mystical order that still dwells in the ruins of the the Land of Eddies,” Hiruzen answered.  “‘The Order of Fog’s Splendor,’ if I am remembering history correctly.” “They do look rather....religious,” the Daimyo demurred, as another, much more familiar group joined them under the fragrant trees. “Naruto-kun!” Hinata greeted cheerily, as Team Seven took their seats beside the Hokage. “Kakashi,” Hiruzen acknowledged with a surly, side-long scowl.  “I was beginning to wonder.” “Wonder no further, Hokage-sama,” Kakashi replied tightly, and took out his scandalous book and began to read.  “I am here, as ordered.” “And you three....?” Hiruzen continued.  “Are you finally resigned to the circumstances of the mission?” “We are,” Sasuke returned curtly. Sarutobi grunted in satisfaction, and returned to the meditative act of smoking his pipe.

Miriyume regarded the surreal image gazing back at her from the mirror: a gaudily lacquered and bejeweled phoenix-shaped head dress hid most of her signature orange hair.  Her buxom figure was once again forced to endure the restraint of another expensive, beautiful gown–this one being mandarin red silk ornamented in gold, with infuriatingly long sleeves that draped to the floor.  And her mother’s handmaiden was diligently dusting over half of her face with a ludicrous amount red powder. “I’m going to need at least a MONTH of misogiharae after all of this is over!” Miriyume lamented aloud. “Is that an honest expression of spiritual yearning, or a snide comment on the heavy make-up?” Renara asked, as she shook away imagined dust from what was arguably her most elaborate fuinjutsu undertaking ever: the tribal wedding veil for her daughter. The exterior of the long, billowing cloak of coarse silk was red, and embellished with hundreds of silver snowflakes, representing the symbol of their homeland.  The hem of the oversized cowl was edged in scarlet fringe, tassels, and iced with strings of crystal. Underneath was a different story.  Every square inch of the golden lining was covered in a dizzying array of interlocking circular notation that had been largely abandoned after the fall of Uzushiogakure. Renara had tried to teach these fractal fuinjutsu formulae to her children with lopsided results.  Her son had been a virtuoso, who could effortlessly freehand new algorithms of technique.  Her daughter, by direct contrast, seemed to drowned in the details. Recalcitrant though she was to the higher applications of this dying art, Miriyume could easily fathom the power behind the esoteric sigils.   Just looking at the veil conjured a phantom weight in her bones. “In all honesty....both,” Miriyume finally answered her mother, as Nori misted her neck and collar with a bottle of atomized musk, which caused the bride to sneeze. “I haven’t been keeping up with my sage meditation lately...and now I smell like a Yugakuran brothel!” Nori abruptly stopped her perfuming, giving the bottle a curious sniff. “Calm yourself, Arashi-cho,” Renara advised, using the pet name they had been calling her since she was crawling.  “You are nervous...and understandably so.  You’re standing on the cusp of a meticulously planned event, but you need clarity and focus...” Miriyume chuckled darkly.  “I never had much of either, Kaasan.  But I have determination...and honor.  I made a promise, and I will abide by it.” Renara’s telepathic eyes could see the unbreakable resolve in her daughter’s soul.  The one that Miriyume’s many teachers had come to dread; the one that had convinced one of the Old Ministers of Heaven into adopting her.  The resolve that said: Woe and ruin to any who stand in my way. Renara smiled wistfully, as she thought back on all other times when her daughter’s easy-going attitude and capricious antics had lulled people into a false sense of security...only to be devastated by her fierce conviction later on.  The Heron Sage-Priestess blinked away the sudden moisture that had crept into her deep green eyes.  This was her child.  Her beautiful, bloody-minded daughter. The sound of a small gong at the bridal yurt’s entrance made Miriyume jump slightly. “Renara-sama?  Ice Flame-sama?” called Wakame’s voice.  “May I come in?” “Of course you can come in!” Miriyume scolded her father’s infuriatingly formal advisor.  “I’m not some Imperial relic of the Daimyo!” “She was only observing protocol, Arashi-cho,” Renara chided, as Wakame entered.  “Settle down.” Miriyume closed her heavily outlined eyes, as Nori resumed her final cosmetic touches.  Wakame began her report: “The palanquin is prepared, and waiting just outside.  The priest and the miko have purified the grounds and are ready.  The Hokage and the Fire Daimyo are in place.  The Shimokhan and Miriyume-sama’s team mates have gone to the lake.  The groom’s party is now arriving, and the V.I.P. guests are here.” “She’s here?  In the actual flesh?!” Miriyume turned to face Wakame, smacking the shimmering talc application brush out of Nori’s hand with one of the gilt wings of her ponderous crown. “Hard to say, really,” Wakame returned sheepishly.  “They are wearing the holy robes of Fog’s Splendor, after all.” “It’s her,” Miriyume assured, turning back to the mirror, nearly hitting Nori with the wing again.  “And I suppose I really shouldn’t be surprised.  Her Inner Circle has been saying that she wants to take a more active role lately.  She’s tired of second-hand accounts.” “I sat them beside the Shimokhan and yourself, Renara-sama, in accordance with their status,” Wakame continued. “But you said Tousan was at the lake....and Kaasan is here....” Miriyume factored aloud. “–Which means that our refined and honored guests are probably suffering all manner of crude Shimogakuran humor about now....” Renara finished, and started outside in mild panic.  Before leaving, she gave her daughter a final piece of advice: “Remember, little one; unity is the source of success.”

“Alright boys,” the Shimokhan announced, as he stepped back onto the small shore.  “I’ve got to get back to my post.”  A brief nimbus of flame evaporated the cold lake water from his skin, and he reached for his most formal Shimogakuran deel hanging from a convenient branch of a willow tree.  As he reverently dressed himself, his icy blue eyes saw the deels of his daughter’s team mates lying among some nearby boulders.  Matsuko’s wine-colored robe was folded neatly into a tidy square.  The Inuzuka’s had been flung with all the ceremony of a shed beach-towel. “Gekido-kun!” Ryuumaru shouted in censure, “Will no ONE member of your confounded clan ever treat your deel with proper respect!” holding up the maligned garment, and shaking it in the direction of the owner. “Probably not,” Gekido flippantly returned, as he and Aoseishin continued to swim blithely about. Matsuko tched, as he serenely maintained his half-submerged yoga tree-pose.  “We should consider ourselves fortunate that his great-grandfather was even house-broken...” “At least my momma wasn’t a baby-snatcher!” Gekido retorted, referring to Matsuko’s Kumogakuran mother. “That’s enough, boys!” Ryuumaru settled, as he lay Gekido’s deel down beside Matsuko’s, and took up his formal crown of office: a bronze Hun war-helmet, ornamented with yak horns. “Matsuko-kun’s mother LEFT Kumo because of her opposition to the Raikage’s kidnaping schemes, and the Inuzuka’s lack of etiquette is a small price to pay for what they have brought to our village---” placing the helmet on his head, “---Ninken, stout hearts, and righteous rage.  In fact, Gek-kun’s mother has been giving me a continuous ear-full of her blistering critique of this entire enterprise since we left the Village,” indulging in a chuckle. “Dad likes to tell people that he often catches her licking whetstones,” Gekido regaled. “And probably never within earshot of her, I’d wager....” the Shimokhan smirked, before squinting up at the sun’s progress across the azure sky. “Look’s like you’ve got about five more minutes, lads,” he advised the bathers. “Haven’t you ever heard of a watch, Old Wild-Man-sama?” Naruto demanded, as he burst onto the scene.  He was quickly followed by Sasuke and Kakashi. “Woah!  Cool hat!” Naruto breathed, on seeing the war-helmet. “Watches don’t last long on the seas I grew up fishing, Naruto-san,” the Shimokhan returned.  “I learned to make do without.” “Deprivation doesn’t become me at all,” Kakashi replied, as he flipped a page in his Icha-Icha novel.  “I tend to get....callous.  At least, that’s what everyone says.” “So you showed up after all,” Ryuumaru half congratulated/censured, as his eyes narrowed in obvious annoyance of the scandalous book he was reading. “Of course we showed up!” Naruto blustered, as he began to strip off his clothes. “Where’s that little pink-haired girl?” Matsuko asked, as he shifted to a Warrior-pose, and glanced around. Sakura froze in fear of being discovered within the shrubs and ferns that she sat hidden in, waiting for the Shimokhan to leave and open her opportunity to get at the clothes...  Was Matsuko-san a sensor-type? “Not here, obviously,” Sasuke returned in his typical haughty tone, as he removed his shoes.  “This is a males-only bathing ritual.” “Yeah!  Guys only!” Naruto added, before jumping into the lake, sending water everywhere. “I left her waiting with Kurenai-san from the other team, waiting to get a first glimpse of  your daughter’s wedding gown,” Kakashi supplied, as he put away the book and began to unzip his flak jacket.  “She’s always been a sucker for romantic trappings,” glancing sidelong at Sasuke, who was doing his best to maintain aloofness. The Shimokhan emitted a brief bark of panic. “Gun Ana’s Holy Strings!  I’ve got to run!” he swore, before rushing off down the path through the woods. “We need to get moving, too, Fuzzy,” Matsuko advised.  “Miri-chan’s palanquin isn’t going anywhere without us.” “Palanquin?” Sasuke asked, and he waded tentatively into the water. “It’s a Shimogakuran custom,” Kakashi answered.  “A bride is always carried to her wedding.” “Aren’t you knowledgeable....?” Gekido taunted, as he moved to stand in the shallows, and shook his hair out like a dog. “I try,” Kakashi returned, as he kept up the achingly slow strip-down, and a subtle eye on Sakura’s progress. “Is it the same one that the Heron Priestess arrived in?” Sasuke asked, emulating Matsuko’s yoga pose. “It is,” Matsuko returned, moving to the Mountain-pose, raising his thick, muscled arms to the sky. The Uchiha boy copied the move, and chuckled oddly.  “A box with handrails.  How convenient.” “What?” Gekido demanded, quirking an eyebrow. “Eeto....” Kakashi mentally scrambled for an excuse, “Sasuke-kun’s dark humor has led him to equate marriage with...bondage,” the jonin improvised, as he watched Sakura focus her chakra on the jar of foul stickiness, behind the cover of the boulders.  “Its his way of coping.” Gekido snorted.  “Makes sense.  Grandpa always said that the Uchiha clan were kind of creepy,” as he gave the genin a concerned look, and began to wade ashore. “NO!” Kakashi exclaimed, and leapt to block the man’s path to dry land.  “That’s an unfair stereotype!  That would be like saying all Inuzuka....are obnoxious!” “But, they are...” Matsuko countered. Gekido scowled daggers at his team mate, and called to his ninken, who seemed to really enjoy swimming. “C’mon, Aoseishin, let’s dry you off with Mat-kun’s precious deel....” Kakashi leapt back to the lake edge, and slammed his open palm on the sand, shouting: “Kuchiyose no jutsu!” Eight ninken appeared, to the utter shock of the Inuzuka. Pakkun regarded Gekido from the safety of Big Bark Bull’s head and groaned. “Not him again....” casting his face downward, before turning to his summoner: “What do you need now, Boss?” as Gekido’s brain shut down, and he stumbled back into the water. Aoseishin was much more social, eagerly engaging in sniffing these new dogs’ acquaintances. “Just some....company,” Kakashi answered tersely. Pakkun scowled.  Clearly something was up. “You!  Dogs!  How?!?”  Gekido’s mouth was trying to catch up to his instinctively-honed mind.  His higher brain functions were known to lag behind his hyper-perceptive abilities at times. “Too many!” he finally articulated. Kakashi saw Sakura creep back into the forest undergrowth with an armload of clothing, and breathed a sigh of relief.  The trap was set.  He nodded to his two students, who took the signal and began to return to shore. “C’mon, Gek-kun,” Matsuko ordered, giving Kakashi a reproachful side-eye, as he grabbed hold of his overwhelmed team mate, “You can play with the new dogs later....” “He’s—not even an....Inuzuka, Mat-kun!  Its not....fair...” Gekido was still protesting, as he was steered toward their deels. Matsuko had been cognizant of the children’s steady observation as he exited the water.  Slightly unnerving, but he’d grown accustomed to lingering eyes long ago, due to his unusually large stature.   When his beloved deel exploded in a sticky puddle of smelly goo, all of Team Seven’s sudden weirdness made alarming sense: Kakashi’s emotional 180 at the onsen; the Uchiha kid’s odd comment about the palanquin; the sudden need to showcase all these new ninken, who were now sniffing them with alarming zeal. They were being stalled. “What the hell was THAT?!?” Gekido shrieked, mental faculties now completely regained, only to have his mobility cruelly snatched away.  The sludge had enveloped him and Matsuko in smelly, full body, liquid straight-jackets. “For exact ingredients, you’ll need to ask those cooking-nin,” Kakashi returned, as Sakura emerged from the shrubs, holding the deel. Matsuko groaned.  “Its kimchi.  I hate kimchi.” Aoseishin braved a lick on his master’s skin, and recoiled with a gag. “Don’t make yourself sick, Ao-kun,” Gekido instructed.  “A little fire technique will—“ Matsuko, Kakashi, Sasuke, Pakkun, and Sakura simultaneously objected. “That’s mostly sugar!” Sakura warned. “Boiling us alive won’t help the situation, baka!” Matsuko raged.  “Fire will turn this sludge to napalm, poaching us like plums!” “Well, what then?!” Gekido demanded. “I’m thinking!” Matsuko returned hotly, as he strained to separate a limb from his torso. “While you do that,” Kakashi motioned to Sakura, “Can you hold up that splendid garment, Sakura-chan, so I can see every detail?  Thank-you...” uncovering his Sharingan.  “Now, who is the owner of this elegant robe?” “It’s a deel...and its mine,” Matsuko growled past his exertion to escape the mizuame trap. Kakashi smiled as his hands formed the appropriate seals: “Henge no jutsu!” A puff of chakra, and a perfect replica of Matsuko dressed in the deel stood in the jonin’s place.  “So it is,” he smiled.  “Sasuke, take the Inuzuka’s form.” “He’s not going to be too convincing with his dog chomping his ass off!” Gekido snarled back.  “Aoseishin!  Attack!” Big Bark Bull had a different idea.  With surprising speed, the enormous brown mastiff pinned the akita-wolf hybrid down with one hefty paw, then picked him up by the nape of his neck, in the fashion of a wayward puppy.  Aoseishin gave his master a sorrow-filled glance of apology. “How DARE you!” Gekido raged. “How dare YOU!” Naruto fired back, as he tugged on his shinobi-boots.  “You told him to eat Sasuke!” “I did not!  I told him to BITE Sasuke!  Big difference!” “Whatever,” Sasuke, now disguised as Gekido,  dismissed.  “He makes a good point.  I need a dog, or Miriyume will suspect something.” “Hmm....” Kakashi turned to the remaining ninken, still sniffing the odoriferous mizuame-trap.  “Bisuke?  Are you still the best when it comes to henge?” “I am,” a small, tan dog with droopy ears, ringed eyes, and the kanji for ‘shinobi’ on his brow stepped forward. “He talks, too?” Gekido sobbed.  “Its not fair....” “Then please accompany Sasuke-kun as Aoseishin,” Kakashi instructed. “No sweat, Boss,” Bisuke returned, before changing into the larger, blue-white furred dog. “This can’t....be....happening!” Gekido roared, intensifying his struggle.  “We’ve planned this for too long!” “What are you going to do to her?!” Matsuko demanded, using his rage to pull an arm somewhat free with the emotional charge of his question.  The non-Newtonian ooze reclaimed the limb in a matter of seconds.  “Are you going to bind her in this...crap as well?” “Ha! That’ll be a laugh!”  Gekido mocked.  “Her lightning will make short work of this, and her Ice Fire will leave your ancestors frostbitten!” “I find it only fair to warn you,” Matsuko began, “Miriyume-chan does not forgive insults easily, and carries grudges like merit badges...” “Then so be it,” Kakashi/Matsuko returned.  “I’d rather live with her resentment, than endure the shame of failing her.” Matsuko and Gekido were visibly struck by his words.  They paused in their struggle, and exchanged curious glances, before Matsuko began: “Listen, we—“ ”No!  You listen!” Naruto demanded.  “Aunty-Priestess-Knock-Out-sama deserves better than that creep!  Why can’t you see that?!” “You think we don’t?!” Gekido fired back.  “Tsuroyuni is SCUM!” “Yet you do nothing to stop her from marrying him,” Sakura countered sadly.  “And you claim to be her team mates....her friends.” “Its not like that!  There’s a plan....” Gekido defended. “–There’s a treaty...” Matsuko added. “To hell with your stupid treaty!  Your Village is FAR too concerned about those things!” Kakashi/Matsuko shouted in disgust.  “No mission---no reward---no PACT is worth offering up your team mate as a sacrifice!”  He then turned to Sakura: “Take those clothes, and hide them, then sneak back to the wedding.  I’m counting on you to be the one to explain everything to the Hokage, when its all over.” “And make sure Naruto doesn’t do anything stupid...” Sasuke added, giving Bisuke/Aoseishin a scratch behind his ear. “Hey!” Naruto snapped.  “I’ve been pranking the entire Village all my life!  I don’t need a baby-sitter!” “You’ll all need an undertaker if you don’t let us go!” Gekido shouted in retort.  “Do any of you fully comprehend the mortal consequences of pissing off Asaito Tsuroyuni?!” “He kills anyone who crosses him,” the real Matsuko continued, “...And he takes his time while he does it.  He prefers to take his victims alive, and brings them to his private island for torture.  All those stories of mutilated corpses being found in the Land of Water...?  They’re true.  That’s his handiwork.  He’s said to have a ghoulish taste for vivisection.  Each new body they find confirms this.” Sasuke/Gekido blanched, and swallowed hard.  Sakura gasped.  Naruto looked confused. “Viv-ection?” he parroted incorrectly. “It means slicing you to pieces while you’re alive, slowly cutting away tiny bits until you die,” Sakura enlightened. Naruto held a hand over his mouth as his stomach lurched. “But all Tsunoyuri’s evil can end today....IF you let us go right now!” Gekido urged. “At the expense of your team-mate,” Naruto growled.  “That is never an option!” Pakkun turned to his disguised master: “What do you want us to do, Boss?  Stay with the kid?” “I want you to keep Aoseishin occupied, and away from the ceremony.  Find something fun to do, there’s plenty of options around here.” Kakashi/Matsuko returned.  “Release him in about an hour.  Everything should have run its course by then.  Now, let’s get going.  I’m sure people are starting to wonder by now....” Matsuko realized something.  Keeping quiet wasn’t benefiting anyone at the moment.  Enough was enough. “Kakashi!  WAIT!” he yelled at their backs.  “You don’t have the whole picture!  Let me explain!” as the ninken pack ran off. Kakashi, exhausted by excuses, only glared back over his borrowed shoulder, before disappearing up the trail that led to the main campgrounds. Gekido gave a burned-out sigh, clearly fatigued by his futile struggle against his syrupy bonds. “Well, this complicates things.....” he ceded in blatant surrender.

[ladyiceflame-blog]

“Frost-ed Birthday Tanuki.”

“Um...thank-you...?”  Kakashi supplied the irate-sounding Inuzuka, as she watched the despondent looking woodland creature squirm in Miriyume’s grasp. Gekido snorted his exasperation, and gave his ninken a ruffle of his pointy ears. “Sorry, Aoseishin.  I guess that nip on your nose was for nothing.” The snowy-furred akita-wolf hybred gave a soft whine. “I told you he wouldn’t care,” Gekido continued, aiming his comment to Miriyume, whose broad shoulders visibly slumped. “Well,” Matsuko began, giving Miriyume a compassionate nudge, “We can’t expect the people in our new home to understand all of our....eccentricities.  We’ll just have to keep our traditions on our own.” The Storm Sage-Priestess glumly clutched the ring-tailed animal closer, and gave a resigned sigh. “So much for cultural exchange....” she muttered, as she and her team mates turned away. “Wait a minute!” Kakashi demanded, getting to his feet and stowing his Icha-Icha novel in his ninja pouch.  “You’re mistaking my surprise for disinterest!  Bring that....tanuki back.” They all turned back around.  Miriyume’s blue-and-green eyes had regained their characteristic sparkle. The tanuki’s.....not so much. “So, how does a tanuki tell a birthday-fortune?” Kakashi asked. “He has to go to your home, first!” Miriyume replied. “Nani?!  You mean....my apartment?”  Kakashi replied. Miriyume nodded, hugging the racoon-dog closer.  “It’s an old form of animal-dependant divination.  Like, bird augury....or watching whale activity.” Kakashi squinted.  He’d never heard of whale-watching as a form of fortune-telling... “It also uses some elements of feng shui,” Matsuko elaborated.  “You can gain valuable inisights.” “It’s easy!” Gekido interjected, sounding like a late-night advertisement, “We watch this little guy explore your pad, and these two,” indicating his team mates, “...can interperet and tell you what to expect in the year to come.  We even went to the trouble of getting you a ‘fresh one’!” he added, softly bopping the tanuki’s nose. “‘Fresh one’,?” Kakashi echoed back. “He means a wild one,” Miriyume explained.  “Gek-kun believes that a tanuki from a zoo isn’t as reliable as one straight from the forest.” “I’m not sure my building manager would agree to either,” Kakashi lamented, regarding the perturbed bundle of brown and grey fluff tucked sullenly against the sage-priestess’ chest. He’d been secretly hoping that Miriyume would come calling on him today.  He’d gone so far as to read in the shade against the bole of this ancient oak tree that she often marveled at whenever she passed by. They could have gone for dango....or shared some sake at the izukaya... Impressing wild animals into oracular servitude had never even crossed his mind.... “You live near the Hokage Residence, correct?” Matsuko cued. “I do.  The Jonin Dormatories,” Kakashi returned, watching as Miriyume tenderly stroked the tanuki’s brow. Oh well.  It was certainly more interesting than the usual birthday card. He followed their lead back toward his humble abode, and silently pondered the absurdity of it all: Why a tanuki? How did they know it was his birthday? Why was it so hard for him to interact with this beguiling shamaness? When the Wandering Lights Brigade had pledged to stay in Konoha to help in the wake of Orochimaru’s thwarted attack, Kakashi was exultant. He made it a point to walk by the temple that they’d helped rebuild, and subsequently moved, into every day, just to catch a glimpse of her at work. The humble temple had healed remarkably under their collective care, and had begun to draw greater numbers than it ever had before. Many attributed this to the natural inclination of humanity to seek spiritual guidence in times of crisis. Kakashi felt it had more to do with the magnetic pull of a Shimogakuran Spitfire. “Alright, Straw-man, which of these cookie-cutter apartments is yours?” Gekido snarked, when they arrived at the Jonin Residence Compound. The Inuzuka seemed to have an aversion to using his acutal name, always opting for some mild insult, or deviant form. “Follow me,” Kakashi groaned.

He keyed open the door, and motioned them inside ahead of him.  Some small act of universal kindness had kept his downstairs neighbor, Might Guy, from noticing their passage. He’d never said anything overtly, but, he figured that the ‘Noble Blue Beast of Konoha’ had some suspicion of his feelings for Miriyume. Then again, Might Guy could be awfully unobservant at times.... His guests were standing in the center of the lone chamber now, peering around at their surroundings.  Or rather, their lack of surroundings. Largely empty bookcases.  A cliched wall poster.  A plant on a windowsill. “We wanted your apartment, One-Eye, not your storage closet,” Gekido quipped. “My needs are few, and the rent is cheap,” Kakashi defended.  “Besides, I’m next-to-never here anymore.” “Where’s your bathtub?” Matsuko asked. “At the onsen,” Kakashi replied. “Where’s the kitchen?” Gekido demanded. “At any of Konoha’s many fine restaurants,” the Leaf jonin informed, as Aoseishin made a sniffing-sweep of the premesis. “How can you call this ‘home’?!” the Inuzuka challenged. “Because this is where he keeps his treasure,” Miriyume answered, as she stood in front of the bookcase, regarding a smiling Anbu dog mask, a dusty, unopened first-aid kit, and a strange, pronged kunai. With uncanny precision, she had located the most meaningful objects on display.  It was a little unnerving.  Treasure hunter, indeed. Following a solumn beat, she turned back to her host: “Now, time for the divination!” Gekido sat on the windowsill, with Aoseishin at his bare feet.  Miriyume moved to stand before Kakashi, who had sat on the edge of his bed, and held out the tanuki. “Put him on you lap, and ask him, politely, for your birthday fortune,” she instructed. Kakashi reached out for the annoyed, yet oddly compliant animal, sat him on his lap, and cleared his throat: “O, most honorable Tanuki-san; what is my birthday fortune?” he inquired, them looked to Miriyume’s smiling face.  “How was that?” “Very polite,” she congratulated. “Over the top!” Gekido chided. “Respectfully spoken,” Matsuko amended from his place in the lone chair.  “Manners are an alien concept to Gek-kun.” “They are not!” Gekido refuted.  “I just reserve them for those who are truly deserving.” “Aw...” Miriyume squished in beside her team mate in the windowsill, taking care not to disturb the plant, or either of the framed photos.  “You’re still mad about your last birthday fortune.” “Ya think?!?” Gekido fumed, with scorching sarcasm. “What, may I ask, was your last fortune?” Kakashi plied. “That I would be caught up in a tsunami of Fate, powerless to deny its course!” Gekido hotly returned. “Are a tanuki’s predictions always so dire?!” Kakashi fretted, clutching the animal. “Gek-kun’s last divination was a little....unusual,” Miriyume blushed slightly, as she tried to stifle laughter. “The tanuki humped his leg,” Matsuko imparted, laughing at the memory. “That’s what you get for being born during mating season,” Miriyume teased, as she studied the photos.  Kakashi looked so damn serious as a child! “Now,” getting back to the divination, “Place the tanuki in the center of the room, and stand back--” “–Way back!” Gekido advised. Kakashi carried the racoon dog to the middle of his apartment, and sat him gently down.  The tanuki’s nose went into immediate action as it peered about. “There’s not much to orient the cosmos in here,” Matsuko frowned.  “Perhaps we should have brought a luopan..?” “We’ll get by,” Miriyume winked, as the tanuki began to move. He was an odd example of the species, inching along the floor, utterly at ease in these new surroundings.  He went to the desk that Matsuko was sitting at. “Ah-ha!” Gekido crowed, pointing to the tanuki as he sniffed and pawed at the desk, “A work-a-holic!  Who’d have guessed!” taunting the jonin. “The desk could indicate one’s job,” Miriyume mused, “...Or scholarship.  He is a teacher.” Her train-of-thought was derailed when the tanuki turned its attention on the small trash can, upending it and nosing about its spilled contents. Gekido erupted into laughter, as Kakashi looked on in dismay. “What....does that indicate?” Kakashi groaned. Matsuko was scratching his head, as the racoon dog continued to root among the crumpled papers.  “Um....Miri-chan...?” “A feeling of regret?” she offered tentatively.  “Disillusionment, perhaps...?” as the tanuki moved away again.  “Clearly he’s not finding what he wants...” The tanuki grapped hold of Gekido’s bare foot, and began to pull himself up. Gekido yelped, and nearly fell out the open window.  “Don’t let him get my leg again!” The tanuki’s nose was working furiously, audibly sniffing the struggling Inuzuka, zeroing in on one pocket in particular. Aoseishin dutifully grabbed the ofending creature by the nape, and pulled him away from his master. “Alright, that’s enough!” Gekido declared, as Kakashi set to cleaning the scattered waste bin.  “I’ll interpret your birthday fortune for you!  Kaka-kame’s going to be a work-a-holic, trashy pervert this upcoming year!  We’ve all seen the books he reads!  Are we surprised?!” “Gek-kun!” Miriyume hissed, eyes flashing, as Matsuko helped Kakashi clean up the mess.  “You never take this seriously!” “Hold up,” Matsuko announced, standing up and examining a particular piece of refuse: a slightly sticky skewer.  “I think our tanuki friend was at a loss.” “What’s that?” Miriyume turned away from censuring Gekido. “Some kind of food skewer, looks like...” Matsuko related. “Ah,” Kakashi grinned sheepishly.  “That would be the dango that Naruto gave me earlier.  He likes to give me food to see if I’ll pull down my mask.  Never works, but he still tries.” “So what kind of snack to you keep in the desk drawer?” Matsuko asked, as he pitched the skewer into the uprighted trash bin. Kakashi’s lone eye widened, then squinted. “Dog biscuits, for my ninken.  How did you know?” “Your tanuki fortune-teller told us,” Miriyume answered.  “He went for the drawer, the skewer, and then Gekido’s personal stash of yak jerky.” “He was probably looking for your non-existant kitchen,” Matsuko smiled. “Which means....” Miriyume continued, “That your next year of life will involve a ‘nourishment of the soul’,” taking the tanuki from Aoseishin’s gentle jaws, and moving to stand in front of Kakashi.  “Providing that you accept such sustenance...” There was a sly look in her eyes, as he felt the cool-warmth of her strange chakra surge up to recharge his own in a gentle caress. Again, words failed him.  He just stood there, as her team mates moved toward the door. “C’mon, Miri-chan,” Matsuko called, holding up a misson scroll that they’d taken in their charity for Konoha.  “We’ve got to help rebuild a smashed tea house today.” “Very well,” Miriyume sighed. This was torturous.  She’d come to Konoha for one reason, and he was standing right in front of her!  But she wanted him to make the first move.  For once in her life, she wanted to allow the object of her affections set the pace, this one time, when it meant the most.  What was he waiting for?!? “Happy birthday, Hata-kun,” Miriyume sincerely wished with a brave smile, and then joined her team mates waiting by the door. Kakashi hung his head and gnashed his teeth, raging at himself for feeling so restrained in her presence. “Thank-you,” he managed to say before she followed Matsuko out the door. Gekido lingered on the threshold a moment longer, and gave him a hard, knowing, and possibly sympathetic look. “You’ve spent your whole life denying yourself of the simplest—and, coincidently, the greatest–pleasures in life, Hata-Kaka-kun.  Its time to stop being so damn hard on yourself, or you’re going to miss out on what you’ve worked so hard to protect!  Now...get a kitchen, you idiot!” he ordered, before closing the door. It was the closest that Miriyume’s blustering, protective team mate would come to giving him his blessing. Kakashi smiled.  He’d been meaning to get a hot-plate anyway...

[ladyiceflame-blog]

An Inconvenient Truth:

Chapter Sixteen: Cleansing and Contemplation

When Asaito returned to his tent, he found Oda waiting within its dismal interior.  He was sipping that horrid concoction of strange herbs and stench-laden spices that he dared to call tea. “You’re up and about rather early this morning,” the monk began, assessing his employer’s scowl.  “Are you nervous about your ‘Big Day’?” “Have I ever been nervous on any other of my ‘Big Days’?” Asaito returned coldly, taking his seat beside the tray of breakfast that had been brought for him.  “Blushing is for brides alone.” The monk chuckled lewdly before asking: “Was she blushing?” Asaito gave his court advisor a stern look before answering.  Oda’s vicarious thirst for private detail was getting more pronounced with age. “I don’t believe that the ‘Shimogakuran Spitfire’ is capable of blushing anymore,” Asaito returned, feeling no need to accommodate his servant’s irritating questions. “So...did you bring us back another little...souvenir for the cabinet?” Oda dared to press, as his beady eyes glanced at the macabre reliquary beside them. Asaito chewed his bite of quail egg tamagoyaki as he considered his reply. ‘Us?’  When exactly had Oda laid claim to what had always been understood as his prey?  The help seemed to have become truly delusional! Oda would most definitely be suffering from some tragic accident when this was over.  But who could he find that would fill the void? Perhaps one of those idiot companions of Ice Flame’s would work.  He needed to keep them busy, after all. “What I have done....or not done, is no concern of yours, you impudent lackey,” Asaito finally returned, and he stood and began to draw an infernal sigil in the air before him.  His maroon eyes flared with unwholesome balefire, as he called upon the powers granted to him by hell. The unholy rune became a jagged, festering slash, and opened a violent wound in time and space.  From this double door-sized breech, the hallmark scent of the brackish waters that surrounded the Tsuroyuni domain of Koryomizu Prefecture came wafting, accompanied by the sulphuric odors of this infernal bridge’s origins. “What is your concern is overseeing that all of my possessions get back where they belong before I finish my bath,” Asaito instructed, as dark tendrils of foul making snaked out of the void he’d opened, and began to lay hold of the furniture.  “The tent and the brasiers can stay.  Let these fools have them to puzzle over when we’re finally gone from this wretched place.” “Are you anticipating a hasty departure, My Lord?” Oda asked. “The hastier, the better,” as a large tendril carried the reliquary into the demonic gateway behind him. “I only agreed to this tedium because the Lady Ice Flame would have it no other way.  But once she takes that vow of marriage, even her patron god won’t be able to contravene my husbandly edicts.” “Isn’t a traditional marriage a wonderful thing?” Oda leered back in cruel delight. “A perfect, honeyed trap for overly sentimental women....if executed properly,” Asaito agreed.  “The toxic masculinity of this world has provided the Ministers of Hell with so many conveniences,” he smirked, as he stepped through the foul portal.

Naruto and Sasuke had both raced to scrub off the filth of the fen in their eagerness to soak in the warming waters of the farmstead onsen.  But Kakashi was taking his time, sifting through the maelstrom of emotions that had assaulted him over the past couple of days. When the laundry attendant had taken their swamp-drenched clothes, Kakashi had held onto the torn length of scarlet sash that he’d been left with when the giant heron had snapped up  Miriyume.  A strange keepsake that eerily echoed another memento of an earlier meeting of theirs: the crimson cord that had nearly drug her over an icy cliff in her homeland. Both red.  Both cut.  Both treasured tokens that would be stored in the small footlocker that housed the heavily distressed red scarf he used to wear on Anbu missions. He began to wind its freshly washed, silken length against the slightly weeping scratches of his left forearm as a physical vow to persevere.  He would pull her from danger, again and again.  However many times it needed doing. The sound of approaching voices and casual footsteps put Kakashi on reflexive alert. “–she’s very upset.” “And when she’s upset, I am more upset.” “I both know, and appreciate, this fact—“ Three men.  One’s voice was immediately recognizable, as it had been giving him advice and marching orders for most of his life. Kakashi briefly considered hiding so as to eavesdrop further, but resisted the urge out of respect for the Hokage. “—but he’s always been such a stoic person, who only became more so after successive waves of personal loss,” Hiruzen finished. “Aren’t you supposed to be a sensor-type?” the gruffer-sounding of the Hokage’s companions derided. “You’re hardly one to lecture, Yaseiarashi!” Sarutobi snapped back.  “It took you years to realize your own wife’s deep affections for you at the Temple of Fire!” The other two laughed. “Only because I could hardly dare to believe them,” the Shimokhan sheepishly returned. “But...” the third man pressed, “We digress.  Renara-sama, as well as Gekido and myself, are very concerned about this unintentional complication.  We’ve spent nearly a year planning this...” “I know,” Hiruzen stressed.  “I still have the mission request in my desk, which, may I be so candid, is the strangest damn wedding invitation I have ever received: ‘Three day camping event.  Food and shelter provided.  Open bar.  Bring your own shinobi escort...” “Gift registries are overdone....” the Shimokhan quipped.  “Yet, despite all that time I gave you to cherry-pick shinobi to bring, you chose—“ ”It came down to availability!” Sarutobi interrupted.  “And perhaps fate.  Think back, Ryuu-kun....to your last trip to my Village.  It wasn’t just an auspicious day for your son.  The Renkingen needed a trigger, and that trigger came in the form of....” “Some miniature thug knocking my Stormfly to the ground hard enough to cause her to lose consciousness!” the Shimokhan returned testily. Kakashi’s mind dredged his memories: When had the Head Ninja of the Land of Frost and Miriyume ever visited Konoha?!?  And who would dare assault such a rare diplomat’s daughter?!? “He didn’t mean to, Ryuumaru-kun,” Hiruzen soothed.  “Even Ryuuyuki understood that.  He was so beside himself afterward.  He actually needed counseling.” “Oh my gods....that WAS him, now that I think back....” the Shimokhan gasped. “It was an eventful...and fateful day,” the Hokage continued, as Matsuko parted the noren that separated the locker area from the bathing chamber.  His smiling face changed to a much more somber expression when he caught sight of Kakashi nonchalantly rinsing his silver hair.   “...and if fate is so intent on binding these two together, then let’s put this enigmatic force to work here, where it’s needed the most.  I have alwasys found destiny is a most fortunate....” the Hokage trailed off, on seeing what was possibly his most notorious jonin, naked except for a washcloth tied over his nose and mouth, washing the last of his suds down the drain. “...ally.  Ohayogozaimasu, Kakashi-san.” The Shimokhan jumped slightly as the jonin stood, wrapping his towel around his slim waist. “Ohayogozaimasu, Lord Third,” Kakashi bowed in respect.  “Also to Shimokhan-sama...Matsuko-san.” “You’re up rather early,” Hiruzen smiled broadly, in direct contrast to his two companions, who looked rather ashen.  “Especially after having such a busy night,” his keen eyes briefly acknowledging the unusual bandage on his forearm. He knew.  Of course he knew.  Hiruzen Sarutobi, ‘The Professor’, knew most things. “The Fire Daimyo is beginning to think you’ve abandoned us,” the Hokage added. “I am sorry that my ascribed duties are keeping me from paying rapt attendance at our Lord’s court,” Kakashi offered, with just a hint of sarcasm. “Just as long as you and your students remember to stand by his side at the wedding, I’m certain you will be forgiven,” Sarutobi assured, as he began to bathe. “Pah!” the Shimokhan scoffed, finally shaking off the shock of almost being caught talking about a man behind his back, and selecting a faucet beside Hiruzen, “Your Daimyo sounds like ours:  overly pampered, and utterly clueless as to the harsher realities of life.” “Pretty much,” the Hokage agreed.  “And its best to keep them that way.  Ours is fond of spectacle and gossip, which is probably why he leapt at the chance to host this event.” “Did his wife bring the cat?” Kakashi had to ask. “Of course, poor thing,” the Hokage smirked.  “Kurenai-san’s team has had to chase her down three times so far.” “Our Daimyo’s always losing track of his daughters!” Ryuumaru countered, obviously relishing the opportunity to commiserate with others on the subject of naive heads-of-state,  “Usually running off with some new boyfriend, or sneaking off to some other land for a wild night.” “Those girls are trouble,” Matsuko chimed in. “You know, they once convinced my little Stormfly that she was some hideous beast-girl, unworthy of their association?  Miri-chan made us send her to charm school on account of those brats!” Matsuko snickered, as he doused himself with water.  “Funny how the traits that they spurned were the very ones Miri-chan used to bail them out of so many of their problems.” “Will any of them be at the...ceremony?” Kakashi asked, still unwilling to call it a wedding. “Not likely, since they weren’t invited,” the Shimokhan smirked.  “Today’s events are probably a little too....coarse, for their refined tastes,” chuckling oddly to himself. “Na-roo-toe!” growled a young, stern voice from the hot spring pool, followed by the unmistakable sound of a wet towel snap, and the attendant yelp of pain. “What?!?  I was just gonna see if she wanted to talk, you pervert!  I’d never!” Naruto defended. “Speaking of ‘coarse’....” Kakashi lowered his head in apology. “Ah!  The Uzumaki kid!” Ryuumaru identified.  “I heard that he bested my girl in the Iron Chest Grappling Tourney!” “He did,” Matsuko confirmed.  “Right after she sent Gek-kun rolling.” “Where is Gekido-san?” Kakashi asked, as the others rinsed their suds and stood. “Still sleeping,” Matsuko answered. “You mean, still snoring like an asmatic walrus!” Ryuumaru amended, drawing laughter as he led the way to the pool outside.  “How do you stand it, man?” turning to his daughter’s team mate. “I usually force him to wear one of those breathing strips, but he was kinda hard to pin down last night.  You know how drinking seems to sharpen his reflexes.” “Oh gods, yes...” the Shimokhan vouched, as the four men stepped onto the wooden deck surrounding the men’s pool.  “The Whiskey Brigade had an eye on him for awhile...” Naruto and Sasuke, who had been engaged in some form of free-style wrestling, froze in place, clearly taken aback by the arrival of the other adults. “Old Wild Man-sama!” Naruto gasped, as Sasuke released his half-nelson hold on him, and contemptuously shoved him away. “Naruto!” Kakashi immediately censured, as Miriyume’s father erupted in laughter.  “You will address the Shimokhan with the proper respect!” “Its alright,” Ryuumaru chuckled, stepping into the water.  “No offense taken.  I actually kind of like that one...”  The golden-green waters were much more subdued in the daylight. “Stop embarrassing us, baka-Naruto!” Sakura scolded from the other side of the ivied dividing wall. “Are you eavesdropping on me, Sakura-chan?” the Uzumaki crooned back. “Only because there is no one else over here!” she answered hotly. “Miri-chan prefers having the hot spring to herself,” Matsuko shared.  “She can adjust the temperature to suit her comfort that way.” Under his breath, Kakashi muttered: “She’s not always so courteous of company...” “What was that, Hatake-san?” Hiruzen asked. “Nothing, Hokage-sama,” he answered, his blush looking sharper against the white contrast of his bath-mask.  “So...” looking to change the subject, “What is the schedule for today?” The Shimokhan gave an exasperated sigh, leaning back against the wall of the pool.  “You’ll have to ask Wakame-san for the specifics, but, the big ceremony is set to start at high noon, immediately following the ‘Men’s Purification Ritual,’” his hawk-like gaze zeroing in on the man sitting to his left: Matsuko.  The swarthy giant bowed his mo-hawked head of auburn hair in glum resignation. “Must I?” he pleaded softly. “Yes!” Ryuumaru returned.  “As her team mate, you are obliged as family!” “What does Matsuko have to do?” Sasuke asked from his corner of the pool. “According to tribal custom, all the male members of a wedding party must ritually immerse themselves in a natural, unheated source of water before the ceremony; to cleanse the spirit,” Hiruzen answered. “What to the women have to do?” Naruto had to ask. “Attend the bride while she sits in a perfumed bath, dine on delicacies, listen to music, and laugh at our torment,” Matsuko replied sullenly. “The years you spent in the Land of Water have seriously compromised your ‘Winter Blood’, Mat-san,” Ryuumaru admonished. “I have NEVER been a fan of cold water, Shimokhan-sama,” he admitted freely. “Hmph,” the leader of the Frost nin groused, crossing his arms and closing his eyes.  “But you’ll still be taking a dip with me and the Inuzuka.  I insist!” “Understood, Shimokhan-sama,” Matsuko sighed. “Wait a minute!” Naruto began, “You said ‘ALL male wedding party members.’  Doesn’t that include the groom?” “Clever boy,” Ryuumaru smiled, opening his eyes.  “It would....normally.  But Miri-chan has asked me to respect this man’s....reservations, regarding our customs.” The water around the Shimokhan became more agitated all of a sudden.  Like the beginning of a slow boil. “...Ordinarily, I’d drag that insolent twerp to the lake and dunk him myself...” Steam was now making Matsuko and Hiruzen clearly uncomfortable. “Alright now, Ryuu-kun,” the Hokage chided gently.  “The onsen water is hot enough as it is.” With a chagrined look, the Shimokhan gritted his teeth, and abated his emotionally triggered chakra outburst.  “Whoops.  Just feeling a little edgy...I guess.” Matsuko gave his khan a pat on the brawny shoulder, and whispered a nigh-imperceptible: “Save it for later.” “A proper bridegroom should respect the customs of his bride’s family,” Kakashi announced, causing Hiruzen to groan and hide his eyes.  “Especially in a marriage of political significance.” “I’d jump in a lake for Aunty-Priestess-Knock-Out-sama!  Datte-bayo!”  Naruto seconded, “And for you, too, Sakura-chan!” “I don’t care!” Sakura replied. “Well, I’m relieved to know that our friends in the Land of Fire would be so accommodating,” the Shimokhan smiled with the same impish charm that had been passed down to his daughter.  With Miriyume, the confidant roguishness was seductive.  With her father, it was unnerving. “Care to join us?” the grizzled warrior from the North asked, looking directly at Kakashi. Matsuko arched an eyebrow. Hiruzen looked shocked.   This was clearly an unexpected challenge that held some significance. Kakashi glanced down at the crimson length of silk on his left forearm, then met the steady gaze of Miriyume’s father. “It would be a honored privilege, Shimokhan-sama,” he formally replied with a bow, getting a look of supreme satisfaction from the Frost leader.  Matsuko smiled enigmatically.  Hiruzen let go of the breath he’d been holding. “Now, that’s the answer of a worthy man!” Ryuumaru deemed, gesturing to the gallant shinobi, and settling back into his submerged seat. “Then even you admit that Tsuroyuni is not a man worthy of your daughter,” Sasuke verbally pounced, “Yet you do nothing to stop this clearly disastrous union!” “Sasuke!” the Hokage stood, aspecting his sternest demeanor.  Matsuko cocked his head at the incredibly rude genin, A pair of jade-green eyes peered over the fence, and gulped. The Shimokhan’s fiery affinity had erupted into full display, red-orange flames forming an intimidating aura about his stocky, frame, turning the water around him into clouds of heavy steam.  His lantern jaw tight, his eyes squinted in the manner of an angry eagle. “How DARE you lecture our esteemed employer....and my trusted ally, about family obligation!” “How dare you NOT!” Sasuke shot back angrily.  “My clan may be dead, but I will hold to the principals my father taught me!   That’s why I refuse to stand idly by and watch a woman surrender an honorable name in exchange for a vile one!” “Sasuke-kun...” Naruto sniffed, ushering in a somber silence, save for the hiss of boiling water, the tell-tale creak of wooden fence-slats, and the occasional chirp of morning birds. The Shimokhan closed his scowling eyes, and took a deep breath.  Deep enough to prompt Kakashi into standing between his overly-opinionated student, and the infamous ‘Blast Furnace of the North’.  The Shimokhan’s fireball jutsu was said to rival that of most Uchiha... Following another tense moment, Ryuumaru exhaled slowly, and his nimbus of flame melted back into his body. Matsuko sank to his eyeballs in the much warmer water, and blew a stream of relieved bubbles.  Hiruzen kept his stern expression fixed upon the sharp-tongued genin.  The Shimokhan opened his eyes. “You’re the Uchiha,” he began, “The last one, so I’ve heard.” “I am,” Sasuke admitted. “Then as a representative of one notoriously passionate clan to another: NEVER insult my devotion to family again, or I’ll turn your charred remains into a diamond.  And I believe that the pair of pretty eyes watching you from the fence are wanting a little more from you than just a shiny rock.  So let’s indulge her,” he ended with a menacing chuckle. Sasuke had the good sense to look rattled, as Sakura gasped loudly as abandoned her post on the fence. “Thank-you for not roasting the boy, Ryuumaru-kun,” Hiruzen breathed. “That would be my wife’s influence on me in action,” the Shimokhan explained.  “The enfolding wings of my Angel of Serenity.  I’d have burned myself to ashes and taken a good chunk of this world with me long ago if it hadn’t been for her.” “So, your wife makes you a better person?” Naruto asked. “She does,” laying a wet cloth over his eyes and laying back.  “I have to be a better person, out of my love for her.  That’s one of the surest indicators that your marriage is a good one.” “Will Asaito-sama be a better person?” Naruto followed up. Kakashi was all ears.  Hiruzen looked down sadly.  There was no offense in the boy’s question.  Only desperate hope. Ryuumaru was at a loss of words, but Matsuko offered his thoughts: “Can’t get much worse....” the large man sighed quietly. “Then how can you allow Aunty-Priestess-Knock-Out-sama to do this?” the Uzumaki inquired sadly.  “She’s your daughter!  Tell her to stop!” “The tribes of the North are not governed like the Daimyo, or the family clans that you’re accustomed to, Naruto-san,” Hiruzen began.  “Unmarried, adult women are not bound to the wills of their fathers.  They can marry....or not marry, whomever they want.” “Shimogakuran women have all the same rights and responsibilities as men.  We value freedom too highly to be otherwise,” Matsuko added. “So why does Mir—“ Kakashi broke off, amending his honorific, “–Lady Ice Flame feel the need to get married now, to this man?” “Because the offers haven’t exactly been pouring in, and she’s begun to take it rather personally,” Matsuko responded with a heavy dose of ire.  “She’s in her third decade of life now, and beginning to feel her chances for romance are getting scarcer and scarcer.  Tsuroyuni made an offer, and she accepted.” “He comes from a noble family, with ancient ties to the Land of Water.  He has wealth, prestige, and power.  It makes sense,” the Hokage reasoned. “The hell it does,” Kakashi spat.  “I am sorry, but it is obvious that we will never be agreed on this subject.  My students and I will now take our leave, and let you bathe in peace.  Naruto!  Sasuke!  Let’s go!” As Naruto relayed the command to Sakura over the fence, Kakashi gave the Shimokhan some final words: “You have contracted my services for protection, yet bind my hands against saving the one person who needs saving here.  This is an impossible task, and I can’t bear to watch your daughter exchange vows of sake with that....monster.” “That goes double for me,” Sasuke seconded, as he exited the pool.   “And triple for me!” Sakura yelled over the fence. “And quar....quad....quag—FOUR times for me!” Naruto added as he left. “And if you think our displeasure is tiresome, just wait until Raijin-kami-sama frees himself of those fetters he was talking about,” Kakashi revealed.  “He will make the Lady Ice Flame a widow in no time.” The jonin’s parting statement drew comical shocked expressions from the trio of men: Hiruzen’s jaw went completely slack, and his pipe fell in the water.  The Shimokhan capsized, and sputtered water.  Matsuko stood bolt upright, in all his naked glory. “How do you know about Raijin-sama’s fetters?!?” Matsuko demanded, looming uncomfortably close for Kakashi’s peace-of-mind. “He....told me,” he returned, putting some distance between himself and the taller, and clearly stronger, nude man. “You....spoke, with Miri-chan’s kami patron?!”  Matsuko continued the unnerving interrogation. “To be completely honest, Raijin-sama did most of the talking,” Hatake replied, “And he seemed to take grave offense at that sleep-walk jutsu that was used on Lady Ice Flame.  I imagine his censure on the one who used it will be swift and brutal.” “How did you see him?  Didn’t Miri-chan say—“ the Shimokhan started, before Hiruzen motioned him silent. “I met him a few hours ago, when my students and I found the Lady Ice Flame sleepwalking in the bog,” Kakashi explained. “I didn’t see anyone else there,” Naruto admitted with a scowl.  “What’s Kaka-sensei talking about?” Sasuke groaned at his team mate’s ignorance.  “He obviously saw this kami when he used the Sharingan on her!” “Oh...” Naruto nodded, then looked confused again.  “Wait, what...?” “Raijin-sama must have pulled Kakashi into his spirit temple of Tetsu Yagura...” the Hokage factored for his throughly confused colleague.  “...using the Sharingan as a pathway.” “Then you have been afforded a rare honor, Hatake-san,” the Shimokhan congratulated.  “Lord Raijin has only permitted two other people into his personal realm, that I know of....my wife, and my son.  He’s not that....social.” “He’s a narcissistic psychopath!” Matsuko translated.  “He only tolerates me, and he mercilessly torments Gek-kun.” “The rebellious son of my clan’s principal god, Lord Kami Susano-o, only appears to my daughter’s closest companions....or her worst enemies.  Given as how you are still alive, I believe that you must be counted among the former.” “Is he shy?” Naruto inquired. Matsuko bit down on a laugh.  “No, just...angry.  Very, very angry.” “He adores my little Stormfly, though.” “Miriyume-chan has always had a gift for charm, though,” the Hokage acknowledged. “The gods know that I’d give that girl the last flickering ember of my being if she asked,” Ryuumaru continued, “But she’s asked for something much more challenging instead.  My support in this....venture.” Even he, it seemed, didn’t really want to call this a wedding. The Shimokhan took a moment to draw a deep breath, and emit an equally long sigh, and everyone got comfortable again. “I’ll be honest here, I’m as against this wedding as much as anyone else, but I MUST respect Miri-chan’s wishes.” “Even if those wishes lead her into a living nightmare?” Kakashi pressed. “Even then,” the Shimokhan replied.  “I have to bear witness here, as her father, as her Shimokhan, and by the esteemed custom of the Unity of Frost.” “What’s the ‘Unity of Frost’?” Naruto asked. “It’s the nindo of our Village,” Matsuko answered.  “All for one, and one for all.” “My daughter has called upon the Unity of Frost to see her through this endeavor, binding us all to assist her.  Any who fail to do so forfeit their honor as a shinobi.” “Any shinobi of Shimogakure can declare it, so long as it benefits the Village.  Its not a thing that is invoked often.  Usually only in times of battle,” Matsuko added.  “Your Unity of Frost doesn’t bind me,” Sasuke litigated, “Or any of us of the Leaf Village. The Lady Ice Flame cannot force our compliance–“ ”But I can,” the Hokage cut off the indignant Uchiha.  “Because of the debts I owe to this man, I promised him a one-time favor of including me among his resources for Frost, which he just cashed in.  As shinobi under my command, you are all included.” Sasuke scowled. “Shimogakure’s love of freedom seems to be at odds with its nindo,” Kakashi observed aloud, regarding the Shimokhan.  “Your village is truly an inscrutable place.” “Or, perhaps our love of our people runs so deep that lending assistance never feels like an infringement of our liberty,” Matsuko countered. There would be no persuading any of them, Kakashi realized sadly.  Team Seven was truly on its own here. Despite Team Eight’s similar attitudes, he could not, in good conscience, involve them further, for the sake of preserving their honor as shinobi. His own honor seemed like a ragged scrap of cloth anymore.  Threadbare and practically useless.  As for his students....? The young were generally absolved of the crimes of a disreputable sensei. “Well, my students and I have some things to attend to, so, we’ll be taking our leave now.  But, when and where exactly will this ‘Purification Ritual’ take place?” Kakashi asked.

This water was too hot, and filled with enough yuzu and mandarin oranges to qualify as a sangria.  The air inside the bridal yurt’s curtained bathing area was redolent with the scents of patchouli, ginger lily, safflower, and gods knew what else.  Her mother had given her a cup of chamomile tea instead of the cucumber-infused sake she’d requested, and that bamboo flute player’s music was starting to get on her last nerves. Still; this was preferable to being trapped in the belly of that damn giant bird.... Miriyume toyed with the team’s amber chrysanthemum charm, and took a moment to think about simpler days.  Learning sage arts from her mother.  Snowball fights followed by hot chocolate. Lying under a night sky with Matsuko, Gekido and Aoseishin and getting lost in the aurora-clad stars.  Would she ever find that kind of contentment again?  Or would this deviant sense of duty keep her perpetually wandering? And Kakashi.  That paradoxically disquieting/comforting presence now had a name.  And a rather infamous one at that.  Seeking him out had been part of the inspiration for her wandering ways. She’d never really given any thought as to what she would do when she found him, though... “You’re awfully quiet, Stormfly-chan,” Renara began, as she reached out for Miriyume’s long cascade of scarlet-tipped, orange hair, which was hanging over the outside edge of the summoned, marble bathtub.  “Especially for being recently regurgitated.  No inventive insults, no angry rants.  I’m surprised.  You always had your father’s flair for swearing....” “I’m just....thinking,” she excused.  “Lost in thought,” setting the amber token on the edge of the tub. “Ah, the Wandering Lights Stone,” the Heron Sage acknowledged, as she began to pull a comb through her daughter’s hair.  “It’s been awhile since I’ve seen it.  I remember how you three used to constantly squabble over who got to hold onto it...” “We still do,” Miriyume reported.  “It just involves more alcohol now.” “You are so your Father’s child,” Renara shook her head, as she mentally compared the coppery hues of Miriyume’s hair to a younger Ryuumaru’s; nearly identical.  But the crimson tips were direct inheritance from Grandfather Uzumaki.  She seemed to take so much more after the men in the family... “So...about the bridal path carpet....” Miriyume veered away from the melancholy thoughts that Renara had been picking up on, “You used wood from the kansugi tree....and hongmu?” “The miko found a box of it when cleaning the temple storage chamber, and I felt it was auspicious enough to merit inclusion,” the Heron sage-priestess answered, as she focused upon the fiery hair slipping through her pale fingers.  “Both are renowned for their powers of protection.” This girl....Renara worried inwardly.  SO much like her father!  Too much!  The same ardent heart. The same stubborn pride.  The same unflinching resolve.  The same profound obliviousness of what was in their best interests, despite it being right in front of them! Attempting to double-back to her daughter’s earlier musings, Renara made a suggestion: “You should visit Konoha after all of this.  Spend some time with our friends in the Leaf Village.” “Already on the agenda,” Miriyume returned.  “I found a reference in the Temple of Falling Water that spoke of the Order of the Resplendent Sun building a monastery near—“ ”That’s not what I mean, you foolish girl!” Renara scolded harshly enough to give the flute-player pause.  With a gesture, she dismissed the musician, clearly wanting a private moment with her daughter. “I am worried about you, Miri-chan.  You win allies wherever you go, just like your father, but UN-like him, you never settle in and get comfortable.  You’re always on the move.  The next town...the new adventure.  You need to slow down, let more people get close to you.” “I believe that’s bad policy,” Miriyume countered cooly, sipping her tea.  “People become more agitated the longer I hang around.  It’s a proven fact.  And I can’t build meaningful friendships with those who would find me tiresome.” “You never give them a chance!”  Renara retorted.  “The tiniest inconvenience...the slightest bit of discomfort, and you’re gone.  People need time to cultivate friendships, love.” The Heron Sage secured Miriyume’s hair atop her head with a pronged kanzashi, and stroked the skin between her bare shoulders, coaxing the pale, pearlescent white fuinjutsu seal to reveal itself. “I gave you this seal to keep the darkness from taking full hold over your heart again.  I never thought you’d use it as a social divining rod.” “Why are you being so critical all of a sudden?!” Miriyume snapped, letting the teacup fall into the bathwater, and she turned to face her parent. “Because this is a critical moment in your life!  Or...have you become too jaded to realize this?” She could sense the energy rising, before all of the water of the tub erupted upward in clouds of steam in reaction to the bather’s emotionally keyed burst of lightning.   Renara shook her head, reminded of days spent scrubbing her seemingly ablutophobic children.  Reducing bathwater to vapor had been Miriyume’s favorite tactic of fighting back. “I thought you didn’t like hot water....” Renara quipped. “I don’t.  Neither literal, nor metaphorical,” Miriyume returned, stepping out of the empty tub, collecting the amber token, and wrapping up in a waiting bathrobe.  “So if you could just go easy on my social failings, and–“ ”The struggle for making allies and peace is a noble one, but ultimately meaningless if that peace leads you to abandon the most important thing in the world!” This was Renara’s “Priestess Voice”, Miriyume realized.  A stronger aspect of the Heron Sage’s already sibylline tone that caused one’s skin to get goose bumps. Her mother had inherited a phenomenal gift for augury from their rather mysterious grandmother.  Only the inescapably stupid ignored her advice. The younger priestess’ ire melted away instantly in the light of her mother’s oracular countenance. “What thing am I in danger of abandoning?” Miriyume asked penitently, bowing her head. “The very thing that gives this world, and the practice of Ninshu, all meaning and power.  The answer is here, in the Land of Fire....and its not among the ruins of some forgotten temple.” Renara spoke the last cryptic clause in her more humble tones, concluding the moment of sublime revelation.  She then opened her arms wide, motioning her daughter into an embrace. “That man is not here by accident,” Renara continued gently.  “He is a signpost.” “With a flashing red eye,” Miriyume scoffed.  “Fate is so subtle.” “I think Fate has given up on subtly in regards to you,” her mother laughed. “I know.  Father’s child.” “And mine as well, deep down in there....somewhere,” Renara smiled, wiping a tear from Miriyume’s eye.   “You’ll realize this when you finally put down some roots, and find joy in watching them grow.”

[ladyiceflame-blog]

An Inconvenient Wedding:

Chapter Fifteen: The Emotional Swamp

It had taken Nori an infuriating amount of time to unbind the bride-to-be’s hair, and remove all of the remaining ornaments that she’d insisted on using this evening.  Miriyume was not fond of having a handmaid.  It made her feel like one of those self-absorbed, overly pampered daughters of the Frost Daimyo.  Those girls probably didn’t even wipe their own backsides without assistance. “I believe the Heron Priestess has put the finishing touches on your wedding kimono, Miriyume-sama,” Nori reported, as she took up a comb, and began to glide it through the now unfettered long, fiery hair.  “Her talent with fuinjutsu has always astonished me, but the work she put into this gown eclipses anything else I’ve ever seen her create.” “Frankly, I’m more concerned about the bridel path carpet,” Miriyume huffed, as she endured the young maid’s ministrations.  “Is that in order?” “It is,” Nori replied.  “Exactly as per your wishes.” “It had better be,” she sighed, as she began to clean the make-up from her face with a damp cloth, “...Or I’m in for one hell of a honeymoon...” Nori looked very solemn all of a sudden, refusing to join her in a laugh.  Her deep green eyes were downcast, and seemed on the verge of tears. Miriyume turned to face her.  “Hey....it was only a joke.  I–“ ”Please do not joke about such things, Miriyume-sama,” Nori whispered.  “We are making every effort to be certain that tomorrow goes according to plan.  No matter how far you wander, please understand that the Unity of Frost will never fail you.” Miriyume sighed.  And here it was.  The moment that always stung her when she spent too much time in the company of her countrymen: when her perversely abrasive humor shattered this strange ideal image that had been established for the Yaseiarashi Clan.  A grandiose unifier of the nomadic tribes of the north.   She was never going to be like her Father!  When would this village accept this? “Look, I’m sorry—“ Miriyume began, shoving her frustration into the pit of her stomach. The sober moment was lost to the sound of a loud thud, followed by the crash of something ceramic from the other side of the thick, dividing curtain that served as a yurt wall.  It was her parents’ chamber.  The two women relaxed when it was followed immediately by the drunken giggling of the Shimokhan, and the stern reprimand of the Heron Priestess: “You just got tea everywhere, you clumsy ox!” Renara scolded. “Guess we need to take another hot bath together....” Ryuumaru chuckled lasciviously, then did something to make Renara give a startled squawk, and cause another crash. “I think you’d better help my Mother, Nori-san,” Miriyume suggested, taking the comb from her hand.  “Father clearly needs more sedatives, or no one is sleeping tonight.” The younger woman gave a respectful nod, and adjourned to the other room.  Miriyume continued to clean her face, and mumbled quietly to her reflection in the mirror: “Dammit, Dad, you’d better not be hung-over tomorrow!” she swore.  “I need you to be clear-headed...” “He’ll be the very model of vigilance, I can assure you,” an impish voice blithely returned from the deep shadows of the curtains, before the speaker revealed herself.  “He always said that he would be hitting the hard stuff liberally in an effort to dull the inevitable heartache that this day would bring him,” Yonome reminded, as she leapt atop the vanity. “He did say that....” Miriyume capitulated, as she inclined her head toward her ninneko, and briefly bumped heads together in their odd ritual of greeting.  “...But I thought he was just kidding...like he usually does.” “I’ve been all over this bizarre little campground, Miri-chan, and if its one thing I’ve noticed as a universal truth, its that no one is ‘just kidding’ around here.  You and your Father have built many solid friendships.  Kumo....Iwa....Konoha....  Especially Konoha.  These people have your back.” “I’ve never had reason to doubt, Yonome-san,” standing up and exchanging the loosened indigo-aurora kimono for a slinky bed-gown of black lace, ornamented in a red silk ribbon about waist.  “The Yaseiarashi are renowned for recognizing good character....” “Which has everyone at a complete loss for your choice in a husband,” the cat riposted, as she casually batted a floral hair ornament off the table.   “There are plenty of marriages that are more business than attraction,” the kunoichi dismissed, as she extinguished the overhead lantern, and climbed into her bed of luxuriant furs and cashmere blankets. “That may be....but that was never the kind of wedding you wanted,” Yonome countered, hopping onto her pillow, and smugly settling down next to her unsmiling face. Following a moment of profound silence, Miriyume continued: “So...did you ever get around to the research I SPECIFICALLY ASKED you to do when I summoned you, or did you just ramble around and torment the local wildlife?” “I learned much, Miri-chan,” the cat purred proudly, “Like I always do.  And yes, it is as reports have said.  In fact, its worse.  So bad that I dread telling Tosho-sama about it.  The tiger lords have no patience for espionage.” “He has more than most,” Miriyume countered. “But not enough for you to risk summoning him again, unless of course you want the bridegroom and his entire entourage massacred.  He has nothing but murderous contempt for those who treat with infernal arts, Miri-chan.  You should understand this more than anyone else.” “Then he and Raijin can commiserate together until tomorrow...” the kunoichi sighed.            Yonome stood, stretched, and peered deep into the shadows of the curtained entrance, then smiled mysteriously to herself.  “I’ll be taking my leave now, Miri-chan,” nuzzling her cheek, “There is much to archive at the Cat Fortress.” Miriyume managed to give her ninneko a parting caress along her ebony back before Yonome vanished in a puff of chakra. Pakkun gave a small gulp of relief from his hiding spot in the curtains.  That annoyingly proud ninneko had most assuredly seen him, but had decided against revealing him.  He wondered at how long she had been aware of his presence...

Even after dismissing his shadow clone, and absorbing all of the sleep it had accrued, Kakashi was still exhausted enough to fall into an immediate slumber, and the dream-state drew quick curtains over him: His REM-starved brain went into overdrive, weaving furious tapestries of memory, fantasy and nightmare so thick and fast that no meaning would ever be derived.  And thanks to his brief visit into Miriyume’s mind, startling new elements were now added to his Morphean menagerie. Although Raijin had firmly ejected Kakashi out of Miriyume’s mind scape, the Leaf jonin’s unique role in her life had rooted core tenants of her being into him, attaching key moments of her life into his subconscious.  These grafted fragments of memory were non-sequitur, but powerful: an impossibly clear night sky, alive with shooting stars./a serene reflection pond, lined with regal, platinum and gold feathered herons./the grinning, handsome face of a young man with lilac-hued hair and all-too-familiar blue-green eyes./the cold sting of a strange opalescent lightening jutsu, as it danced across the palms of a smaller pair of feminine hands./these same hands covered in blood and ashes, scrambling for support against the ragged walls of some subterranean hell./these same hands weaving frenetic and bizarre hand jutsu to create wondrous fusions of chakra technique. In the years to follow, Kakashi would recognize these shattered bits of dream as snapshots into Miriyume’s past. In the blood-curdling chill and unrelenting darkness of his tent, Asaito Tsuroyuni reverently returned the small ceramic urn to its suspended wooden housing. That one, Sayuri, had been a rare beauty.  A kunoichi from the Land of the Moon.  Her chakra had tasted of mint and over-indulgence, with just a hint of recklessness.  She had been fond of lavish parties, scandal, and fighting with her ornately jeweled, golden saber.  Her heart still resonated with a small ember of her bravado, but was in truth, was just one of many cold relics in a porcelain jar. Sayuri’s heart had been a little slower to chill inside this macabre, musty cabinet; a gruesome mass-sepulcher that contained all the hearts of his past victims, collected over the centuries.  Her chakra had been strong by most standards, but had ebbed quickly in the thralls of his appetite. He had become increasingly ravenous during the past hundred years or so.  It didn’t seem that long ago that he could make a bride’s chakra essence last at least forty or fifty years.  Sometimes even longer, if he was particularly cautious.  Anymore, he was grateful for twenty years... Perhaps it was the ever-mounting demands of that annoying, self-appointed advisor that was driving this increase in hunger.  Oda had initially come to him with few caveats: a safe haven to practice his unholy arts, and a small percentage of the chakra he harvested, in the interests of longevity.  His ‘needs’ had expanded over the years, nearly eclipsing his usefulness.   True, Oda did run a tight household.  And he was an excellent buffer against the Water Daimyo.  But the fawning, odious, grateful refugee monk from the mainland had grown into a rather remiss retainer who seemed to forget his place at times.  Asaito had begun to entertain thoughts of finding a less troublesome mortal assistant. Oda didn’t physically require the steady infusion of stolen chakra to maintain his presence in this world.  Bereft of such energy, the nightmarishly elastic chains of Diyu would drag him from this delicious realm, as per the conditions outlined in the dark and desperate ritual of the Tsuroyuni Clan that had brought him here. He reflected on that first taste of human-sourced chakra....a heady draught of a depraved soul that cared nothing about this world, or what he brought into it.  Dark chakra had been the mother’s milk that had nourished his entry, but he had quickly learned of the powerful difference between feeding on despair, versus the euphoria of consuming the chakra of a noble heart.  Petty demons could survive on the gruel of pitiless souls.  Powerful fiends had more gourmet standards. He contrasted the bitter taste of that memory with the sweet nectar of his most cherished conquest to date; the first jinchuriki of the Six-Tailed Beast called Saiken; a regal daughter of the then young Land of Water. It had been like drinking from the mightiest waterfall of the most potent elixir.  Her phenomenal chakra was a rare wonder that never seemed to run dry, until the day that damned beast that was bound to her had led her to her death in the First Shinobi War. No bride since had so easily provided for his dark appetite.  But jinchuriki were in short supply, and it would be highly unlikely to find one so naive since his last dalliance.  Then he learned of the Yaseiarashi Clan. A barbarian clan of the remote Land of Frost, they would have certainly been contenders for the honor of hosting a Tailed Beast...had the opportunity been granted.  The Yaseiarashi possessed the ability to absorb the ambient chakra of their surroundings, making them ideal candidates.  But their little ramshackle, consolidated village had never earned much military respect from the other Lands, and was denied consideration. Whether out of an act of one-upmanship, or merely serendipitous fate, this snubbing was karmetically amended when the youngest daughter of the clan was ‘adopted’ by one of the many Old  Ministers of Heaven...a kami.  The Yaseiarashi’s unwavering patronage of the venerable storm gods had paid off.  Miriyume had made a senjutsu-pact with Raijin-no-mikoto, exalted son of the Supreme Storm God. The chakra of a jinchuriki could have sustained him for centuries.  The chakra of a god....millennia.  Asaito had to have her. His burgundy eyes flicked over to the hashira dokei clock on a nearby table, the only indicator of elapsed time within his pavilion’s bleak walls.  Nearly into the Fourth Division of the Hour of the Tiger.  The ideal time to hunt one’s prey.... Asaito closed the grisly reliquary, and sealed its abhorrently carved doors with a jutsu.  There were still too many variables for his comfort.  The quarry was cagey.  He wasn’t accustomed to that.  Most women he met were helplessly drawn to him for various reasons; looks, money, prestige.  They were virtual putty in his hands, even before he ‘appealed’ to their primal urges.  But Miriyume was different somehow.  Despite her overtly flirtatious attitude at dinner, her heart was heavily shielded.  And when he did manage to compromise that incredible resolve, he had to employ every ounce of his power of restraint to keep from being swept up in the intoxicating tsunami of her surprising power.  Was it the influence of her kami that gave her such ambivalence, or a windfall benefit of her kekkei genkai?  Or was it something about those damned, barely understood Renkingan?  Either reason, there could only be one way to be certain he had complete control over her, and that was to take literal claim of her heart. Normally, this gruesome step was only taken on the night of the Honeymoon, but prudence had sometimes urged him to do otherwise. He stepped out of his grim tent, and looked across to the Yaseiarashi yurt, clan banners billowing in a light breeze.  He could easily sense Miriyume within, enfolded in a deep, whiskey-steeped slumber.  Even in repose, she radiated an absurd amount of chakra. Unfortunately, there were others within those walls.  The perpetually battle-ready Shimokhan.  The eerily serene Heron Priestess.  A select number of servants who were utterly devoted to their protection. He couldn’t risk any of them intruding upon such a delicate operation... There could be no witnesses.  Even his victim’s mind would be purged of this infernal ritual. Asaito chuckled darkly to himself as the solution to everything came to him, relishing the small irony of it all when considering the name of his avidly sought bride: “Beautiful dream indeed....” he whispered to the small tinge of light in the east, then walked off. This costume was stifling, but gorgegous.  The Frost Daimyo had spared no expense in designing these starched silks and golden embroideries.  At least she hadn’t been impressed into wearing one of those itchy-looking wigs, like poor Matsuko over there.  The strain on his muscled neck had to be immense, Miriyume thought to herself, as she scanned the painted faces of her fellow performers in this year’s kabuki production. Contrary to popular belief, she actually enjoyed immersion in this ‘Floating World,’ and always rose eagerly to the occasion to perform.  She loved the elegant movements of the feminine roles, the vivid color of the costumes, the sonorous sound of the taiko drums... She raised her hand bearing the gold-gilt fan in a slow, expressive gesture, and coquettishly inclined her flawlessly decorated face toward the seated musicians who were all wearing....Anbu masks?! Yes.  Those were without any doubt, Anbu masks from the Land of Fire!  There was the Cat mask, the Bird mask.  And sure enough, the Hound mask....with a red left eye, peering back at her! Before she could do anything, a swing of a closed parasol to her backside nearly sent her toppling off of her awkward, wooden clogs.  It was the resident ‘diva’; the middle daughter of the Frost Daimyo.  The person that these performances seemed to revolve around.  It was her signature method of telling someone that they had missed their cue... What play was this again? The actor dressed as the Ogre King seemed to indicate, “The Northeastern Gate.” But the dancers snaking around in the giant koi costume were clearly from “The Fishmonger’s Bride.” The giant pterodactyl hanging above stage struck no familiar chords whatsoever. Oh well, Miriyume thought to herself, striking a neutral but elegant pose in deference to the other actors, the show must go on.... Gekido’s booming voice suddenly filled the air, as a garishly dressed, Aragoto-painted man leapt onto the stage, accompanied by a dog dressed as a....kotatsu table? “Who dares to intrude upon my ancestral domain, unannounced, unbidden, and without oranges to set upon my hearth?!” Gekido then cut the most ridiculous mie pose she had ever witnessed, while his hearth barked. A member of the strangely rapt and overly generous audience yelled encouragement: “Mattemashita!” Another shouted the flamboyant Inuzuka’s clan name. Miriyume smiled at her team mate’s abounding ego, as he relaxed his pose, and the play continued. As the female lead began to answer Gekido’s bizarre question, Miriyume turned back toward the animal-masked drummers.  When had THEY ever been a part of these shows? “Kaki-chan!” Miriyume’s blood froze at the sound of that man’s voice, as did all action on stage.  It was a paradoxical blend of loving warmth and clinical chill, unique to one man, using a name that he’d crafted specifically for her on seeing the unusual color of her hair for the first time.   Miriyume slowly turned around, fearing that the slightest movement would jinx this rare moment of rapture.  She was rewarded with the smiling face of her beloved Ryuuyuki, as he casually strolled up the hanamachi path. “Older Brother....?” she dared to breathe, as tears of joy welled up and ran freely down her painted cheeks.  His short mane of hair, a darker shade than their mother’s lavender-hued locks, was secured stylishly in his hitai-ate.  His build, the tall grace of the their maternal ancestors, combined with the strength of the Yaseiarashi.  His eyes: mirrors of her own. “Younger Sister,” he replied sweetly, before enacting a sequence of hand jutsu in his signature, ambidextrous elemental style that he’d developed to better use the Renkingan. He’s always been so incredibly fast at hand jutsu.  Miriyume only caught the signs for shadow, moon and fan before the floor gave way beneath her, and she tumbled into the void under the seri {trap door} that had opened up. She landed with an indignant ‘splat’ on a cold, slimy, somewhat cushiony pile of....mackerel? Yes.  Cold, wet, aji mackerel; the most recently deposited catch added to the community fish hold, used by the fishermen of Frost’s Northern Waters.  This costume was so done for. Her brother had loved doing this to her, tricking her into falling into the fish vault.  It had been a running joke throughout their childhood.  The last time he’d done this, it had been filled with squid. “Aw...” Ryuuyuki’s voice dripped with false a saccharine tone, as he opened the lone door into the steel chamber.  “Persimmon and mackerel are tasty together.  Let me go get a frying pan....” “I’m going to beat the crap out of you!” Miriyume returned hotly, unable to suppress the wide grin across her face as she lobbed a half-frozen fish at him. “Did you say ‘crap,’ or ‘carp’?” Ryuuyuki riposted, as he swatted the clumsy missile aside with ease, then broke into a sprint as his sister fought for traction on the pile of fish. Divesting herself of a couple of restrictive clothing layers, Miriyume gave chase. Yeah, this was a dream.  But it was the best one she’d had in a long time!

Pakkun watched as Miriyume rose from her luxuriant bed of soft pillows and warm blankets, and walked to the main chamber of the impressive yurt.  He pitied the human need to pee at odd hours of the night, and dutifully followed the kunoichi. He furrowed his brow as she walked past the curtained toilet area, and continued toward the main entrance.   Where was she going?  A late-night snack, maybe?  And why hadn’t she grabbed a robe to wear over that nightgown.... Something wasn’t right here. He’d heard stories of sleepwalkers, but he’d never encountered one before.   Pakkun scrambled to catch up with her outside.  Despite the coolness in the air, Miriyume seemed unfazed despite her scant clothing.  She began to cut a random path through the trees, her open, glassy eyes intent on something only she could see.  This had to be sleepwalking... It probably wasn’t a good idea for the bride to be seen roaming about in such a state, the ninken factored.  Weren’t human females who were about to be married supposed to maintain some kind of modesty? He ran to overtake her, and stood in her way. “Lady Ice Flame!” he barked.  “Wake up!” There was no hint of aknowledgement as she stepped over the diminutive barrier, and continued on. Pakkun tried again.  Again, to no avail. “Alright,” he growled to himself, “I’ll drag you back if I have to....” as he leapt and took hold of her trailing, gown hem.  The flimsy fabric shredded the instant his teeth sank in, sliding through his canines like so much floss. Pakkun barked in frustration.  “I am trying to employ good manners, girl!  But you leave me no other choice!” Taking care to use the softest bite technique he had, the ninken grabbed Miriyume by the ankle, and finally got her to pause in her tracks.  He even managed to tug her backward a few steps before a sharp jolt of chakra made him release her with a yelp. The slightly frazzled pug shook off the tingle of her default defense, and watched her resume her trance-walk. “I need more help,” he admitted sadly to himself. This natural hot spring was as enchanting as she’d promised, Kakashi thought, as he contemplated the seductive sensation of the millions of tiny bubbles bursting against every square inch of his submerged skin.  It was like sitting in a warm bath of that yuzu-flavored, hyper-carbonated soda.  He almost wanted to taste it, but the flavor of the persimmon-haired beauty beside him intrigued him more. He reached out for her, taking hold of her pale, lightly freckled shoulder, and drew her up against him. “How are you enjoying the Thousand Tongues Sacred Pool, anata?” Miriyume asked, as she nestled her cheek against his collarbone, planting a velvet soft kiss against the hollow of his throat. “I am so glad that you insisted on this place,” he sighed, “But...I believe it could stand to use one more tongue...” he purred affectionately, wrapping his arms tighter around her as she laughed at his lewd humor.  Her small, strong hands had found all of his ticklish spots awhile ago, but kept questing for new discoveries. In retaliation, Kakashi put his lips to her ear, and dropped his voice an octave, murmuring the secret phrases that constituted their pillow-talk: a mix of compliments, requests, and playful demands.  It sent her squirming in ecstasy every time. As her artful fingers feathered the sinews of his trapezius muscle against his spine, her lips began a chain of sensual kisses against the underside of his exposed jaw.  “You’re so much more fun uncovered....” “Don’t you mean, vulnerable?” “Same thing,” she smiled, nibbling gently at his bottom lip. As steamy as their conversation was getting, Kakashi was feeling a strange chill at his feet, which didn’t make any sense.  His feet were dangling at the warmest spot of the spring. “Miri-chan, is the water getting....colder?” he asked his affectionate wrestling partner.   “Or are you getting hotter...?” she countered, as her hands slid from his lower back to his posterior.  She laughed roguishly at the tension she found there. The nature of the bubbles began to shift from mild massage to gentle stinging on his now chilled feet.  He reflexively pulled them back, annoying his fellow bather. “Hey!” she protested, as she was sent backward from the force of his changed sitting position.  “What gives?!  Why’d you—“ Her tirade was cut short by a quick gasp of air before she slipped beneath the water’s surface...seemingly against her will. “Miriyume!”  Kakashi yelled in alarm, as the stinging became more of a biting.  His Sharingan desperately tried to see past the millions of bubbles, trying to find some hint of her chakra signature as the pain in his feet began to lance into his ankles and shins.  There was nothing.  But he was damned if he was going to leave this pool before he found her... As he filled his lungs in preparation of submersion, he felt a definitive bite over all of his right toes.  Sitting back on the underwater ledge, he lifted his foot to better examine this menace.... ....and beheld Pakkun? “Finally, Boss!” the pug sputtered, releasing his tenacious hold on Kakashi’s foot.  “I was beginning to wonder if you were in a coma!” “Why aren’t you watching over Miri-cha—, I mean, Miriyume-sama?!” he snapped, converting his frustration of the interrupted dream into heated words, as he re-acclimated to reality. “That’s just it!  I think she’s sleepwalking, and I can’t wake her up!” the ninken reported. “What?!?  Where IS she?!” Kakashi demanded, yanking on his shoes. “Into the woods to the northeast, last I knew,” Pakkun answered, as he watched Sasuke sit up and pull on his shinobi sandals. “I had a cousin that used to sleepwalk,” the Uchiha offered.  “She used to re-enact battles.  She needs to be woke up as gently as possible, before she injures herself.  Even a Level One Sharingan can do this easily,” standing up, intent on going. “What’s all the noise about...?” Naruto groaned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Sasuke scoffed his obvious derision, and gave him and the sleepy-eyed Sakura a quick hint before following their sensei: “It seems your dearest Aunty Ice Flame takes to wandering the woods in her sleep.  Probably looking for whiskey...” he taunted, before running out the door.

Pakkun’s sharp nose led them easily along Miriyume’s rambling path through the trees.  Bits of torn, black fabric and strands of ginger-crimson hair clung to broken branches and brambles that had got in her way.   They found  her standing on the edge of a small bog. “There she is!” Pakkun barked triumphantly, as Naruto and Sakura caught up with them at the tree line. “What’s she doing?!” Sakura demanded.   “Sleepwalking, it would seem,” Kakashi answered, as he took moment to appreciate her shapely silhouette in the dawning light.  Her unbound, fiery hair billowed out in a sudden gust of wind, fully revealing her tattered nightgown.  Her walk through the woods had not been a smooth path.  Blood wept from a couple of the small lacerations on her biceps and legs. “WHAT IS SHE WEARING?!?!” Naruto raged, channeling her father. “Not much....” Sasuke quipped cruelly. Sakura was actually blushing for her.

Asaito had easily snared Miriyume in his Tendril of the Sleeping Heart’s Desire jutsu; a trusted technique he’d developed over the centuries that dug deep into the unconscious, summoning her most trusted and beloved memory to lure her into his waiting clutches. Whatever scenario it had manifested as had been enough to lead her out of camp, and through a bramble-lined path.  But for some reason, she had paused on the edge of this small fen, refusing to cross this final obstacle between them.

She’d chased him through the small fishing village of their Yaseiarashi kin.  She’d pursued him through the glacial caves, grasslands, and towering forests of their idyllic youth.  She’s trailed him doggedly through the entirety of Shimogakure, but now Ryuuyuki was leading her to the one place she had vowed to never set foot again.  The temple built into the bowels of the mountain.  The cursed mountain that squatted on the border between the Land of Frost and the Land of Boiling Water.  The place where her brother had died.  Twice. Why was this damned place here?!  Her father had reduced it to smoldering slag following her extraction.  Hadn’t Raijin helped to purge its singular foulness from her memory long ago?!   The fuinjutsu seal on her back was alive in protest.  It was doing its job.  Even the figment of this place was poison.  Yet, here it was, dredged from its place in the Eighteenth Level of Hell by some demon to test her resolve. Demon.  There was something to that.  Something....connected, back in the waking world.  Miriyume’s mind began to surface out of this no longer pleasant dream. Asaito immediately sensed her efforts to regain consciousness, and be poured more of his ample Yin chakra into maintaining his hold over her.  Just a little further, and his sway over her would be absolute.

Sasuke’s Sharingan alerted him immediately to the sudden flare of chakra that enveloped Miriyume’s, snaking its way in from across the fetid water in smoky tendrils to coil around the sage-priestess like starving anacondas, and melting into her being. “Someone just cast a yin-based jutsu on her,” the Uchiha disclosed, as Miriyume reeled unsteadily for a moment before plunging heedless into the marsh, renewing her stubborn trek northeast. “Let’s move!” Kakashi ordered, leaping to pursue. A slushy snowball, crafted to splatter upon impact, slammed into Miriyume, followed by a mischievous giggle that belied the gravity of the man that threw it, but never failed to warm her heart. “Got ya, Kaki-chan!” Ryuuyuki crowed proudly, as she turned to face him, shaking slush from her long hair. The vile temple was gone, replaced by the Southern Training Grounds in Shimogakure.  It has always been her and her brother’s favorite place to practice, away from the prying eyes of others who always seemed to resent or fear their talents.  This was where he’d taught her taijutsu, his one-handed elemental hand jutsu, and his patented form of kenjutsu, the Dance of the North Wind.  It had also been the setting for some epic snowball fights. Miriyume surrendered immediately to the new dreamscape, and screamed in euphoric battle-joy: “You’ve done it now, ani-san!” and gave chase.

Kakashi was the first to reach her.  Positioning himself directly in her path, he spread his arms wide.  A human version of what his ninken had attempted. “Miriyume-sama!  Wake up!” She gave only the slightest of pauses, then slipped easily past his hesitant hands. Kakashi reached out, taking hold of her clammy, bare shoulder. “Kai!” he exclaimed, giving her a dose of his own chakra. She gave a bigger one in return that felt like a mule’s kick to all his senses, forcing him to release his hold. “Kaka-sensei, what happened?” Sakura demanded, running up, carrying Pakkun. “I tried disrupting her chakra flow,” he panted, shaking off the tingling sensation in his tenketsu.  A Yaseiarashi chakra surge was a lot less refined then a Hyuga’s Gentle Fist technique.  “Not recommended.” “Then just grab her!” Naruto countered, as he dove for one of her legs.  A pivoted spin sent the boy skimming across the scum-capped water. Sasuke snorted his utter lack of faith in his peer’s abilities, as Naruto recovered and vocalized his disgust at being covered in pond scum. “Let’s just put an end to this farce...” the Uchiha huffed, and moved to confront the Lady Ice Flame with his dojutsu. “Sasuke!  No!” Kakashi tried to warn the proud boy, but was too late. The chaotic nature of Miriyume’s waking mind was utter turmoil, nearly impossible to fathom.  Her sleeping mind had to be insanity. As predicted, Sasuke’s recently awakened Sharingan waded into her mind and instantly regretted doing so.  The arrogant boy fell backward into the foul water with a shout of rage and pain. “Sasuke-kun!” Sakura ran over to assist the Uchiha’s stand, dropping Pakkun unceremoniously into the bog. The irritated pug had had enough, and paddled over to Kakashi: “Listen, Boss, its been a long night,” sputtering past the foul water.  “I’ve had to baby-sit genin, been tormented by a ninneko, denied ice cream, rudely manhandled, mistaken for a snack, forced to listen and engage with loud drunks, zapped, and nearly drowned.  Can I go home?” Kakashi nodded his compliance, and the small dog vanished in a puff of chakra.  He then turned his attention to his student’s painful findings: “This isn’t sleepwalking,” Sasuke reported, wringing fetid water from his shirt front.  “This is some kind of mind-control...similar to a Yamanaka Clan technique. “Then who cast it?” Naruto demanded, scanning the premises. “I was evicted before I could find out,” Sasuke excused.  “But if we follow her, I’m sure we can learn.” “Not an option!” Naruto riposted, and created a platoon of Shadow Clones.  “We need to stop her!” True to his impulsive nature, Naruto surrounded Miriyume, and tried his damnedest to slow her progress across the murky expanse with sheer numbers.  Despite her entranced state, the sage-priestess easily rebuffed all his attempts, dismissing his clones just as fast as he could create them, using both ninjutsu and taijutsu. Then the sword came out. “WHERE did that come from?!?” Sakura shrieked, scrutinizing the extremely distressed nightgown. Kakashi was equally mystified.  Where had this ivory white jian suddenly come from?  The tattered lace and ribbons, plastered against her bog-drenched body could never have concealed such a thing, even in an undamaged state.  It had to be a summoned weapon—but how?  And when?  There had been no jutsu.  It had been as if she had drawn it from some invisible sheath over her right shoulder. “Your kenjutsu is getting sloppy, ani-san!” Miriyume taunted her sibling.  “I’ve seen yeti that exhibit more grace than you did with that last thrust!” “Don’t you dare compare me to your last boyfriend!” Ryuuyuki countered, parrying her smaller sword aside with a deft turn of his wrist. Miriyume laughed as much as she raged at her brother’s quick insults.  His wit was always as keen as his miadao. Gods, how she missed him!–she thought internally, as they fell effortlessly back into the whirling dervish rhythms of their highly specialized swordplay. Miriyume’s kenjustu was completely unlike her regular fighting style.  The stubborn brawl had become a graceful dance of fluid movement that shifted defense into attack seamlessly. Kakashi parried the majority of her slices and thrusts with the humble kunai he’d managed to grab in his rush to find her, but this sword style had landed some shallow cuts to his arms and a shin...along with what would probably be a broad welt across his backside. Whatever she was battling in this walking dream seemed to be a friendly rivalry, if she was using the flat of her sword. Her voluptuous body moved with an unexpected elemental grace that had no grounding in the realm of humans or animals.  Her evasive sway was the summer breeze, rippling through the barley fields.  Her lateral swing was the icy gale that left your skin stinging.  The whip of her long hair was a sudden torrent of autumn leaves that momentarily blinded you, leaving you open to her next attack.  But this aesthetic analysis of swordplay, along with the deteriorating condition of her nightgown in the dawn’s growing light was not solving anything. Sasuke was down with a migraine, his fledgling Sharingan having suffered an unexpected sensory onslaught. Sakura, savvy as she was with chakra manipulation, wouldn’t last long against Miriyume’s sword. Pakkun had bailed. Assistance could only come from one source. “Naruto!” Kakashi called, as he arched into a back bend to avoid a neat slice to his chest.  “We need to wake her!” “Tell me something that I don’t know, datte-bayo!” the petulant Uzumaki retorted from the sidelines.  “So do it already!” “I–“ spinning out of range of Miriyume’s latest swipe, “—could use a little help here!” he retorted sharply.  “Make some more Shadow Clones!  Rush her from all sides.  Distract her!” Naruto sighed wearily.  “It doesn’t feel right, fighting Aunty-Priestess Knock-out-sama,” he announced dejectedly before creating a dozen more clones. “Would it feel better to let her wander off to who-knows-where?” Sasuke rebutted, and threw a ninja star at the sage-priestess, sticking it neatly into the back of her right bicep.  It slowed her sword, but failed to break the trance. “Sasuke-kun!” Sakura censured with as much choler as she dared use with the boy of her fondest dreams, “I can’t believe that you hurt a bride on her wedding day!” “That usually woke my cousin...” Sasuke offered, going as far as to look a shade remorseful. “You jerk!” the original Naruto roared, as he tackled the Uchiha. Half of the Naruto clones joined in the fight with Sasuke.  The remainder milled about, watching Miriyume and Kakashi continue to spar in the middle of the fen. Sakura growled in frustration.  “Fine!  I guess I’ll be the responsible one!” and moved to assist her sensei. Four of the Naruto clones were shamed into action by the pink-haired kunoichi, and ran to intercept at different angles.  Unfortunately, Miriyume’s chakra-sensor ability was heightened to high-alert when in the throes of the Dance of the North Wind.  Even in slumber. With another ambiguous hand jutsu, and an elegant flourish of her sword, she sent out a supernova of nerve-jangling chakra that laid Sakura flat, and dispelled Naruto’s clones.  Kakashi managed to duck under the omnidirectional pulse, and ‘played dead’ just long enough to let her step over his prone body.  As the wet ends of the loosened, red silk obi that remained around her waist trailed over his waiting hand, he grabbed and yanked as hard as he could. True to what he’d been told as a child, the wet silk was strong enough to reel her backward.  Rather like landing a massive carp. With his right arm, he managed to catch her, pinning her sword arm against him.  With his left hand, he lifted the headband over his Sharingan.   “I hope I survive to regret this...” he muttered to no one in particular, as he squinted his right eye shut, and focused on her vacant stare.

This time, his admittance into her mind scape wasn’t resisted.  Quite the opposite, in fact. His welcome came in the form of a pair of terrifyingly strong hands clutching the front of his shirt, lifting him to confront the angry aspect of an obviously divine being. Emerald green hair beneath a bamboo hat; sharp, handsome features; and eyes that were solid orbs of coruscating energies, leaking into silver electricity at the outside edges.  Thick lines of jade kumadori (kabuki make-up) underscored these eldritch eyes, denoting a Minister of Heaven. ***“I want ANSWERS, Kakashi Hatake!”*** the baleful being demanded, punctuating his fervor with a tooth-rattling body shake, the likes of which Kakashi hadn’t felt since his early childhood. ***”NOW!”*** “It...would help immensely if I knew the questions....” Kakashi riposted, as his hands worked to pry at the iron fingers clamped onto his collar.  It was pointless.  He was utterly at this....being’s mercy. The kami snorted. ***”Your second-hand Eye of Insight fails to impress me then, you mental trespasser!”*** The death-grip shifted to a single-armed hold, as his captor pointed with the other. ***“Perhaps it could tell me what FOUL ART has taken hold over my priestess?!?”*** Kakashi followed the god’s guiding finger and saw....Miriyume? She was standing in the Opening Pose of Tai Chi, eyes closed, encoiled from head to toe by a multitude of blood-hued, wraith-like tentacles.  Yet in spite of this metaphysical constriction, she seemed in serene repose. “It looks like a Yin-based technique, but unlike anything that I’ve seen before,” Kakashi offered.  Had this been what Sasuke had seen?  He could easily guess as to whom had used such a jutsu.... ***“I can see that much, genius,”*** the kami scoffed. ***“What’s happening back in the physical realm?”*** “You mean....earth?”  Kakashi asked. ***“Of course, EARTH!”*** the god’s eyes flared in response, employing his free hand on his shirt front again to assist in another throttle, ***“Unless she booked this ridiculous farce on the MOON!”*** The churning skies above echoed their lord’s displeasure, growling with ominous thunder. This had to be Miriyume’s patron kami, Kakashi realized with a sudden certainty.  Funny.  He’d been expecting more of a polished lord, instead of a roguish drifter.  He was reminded a bit of the pretentious sons of Daimyos who attempted to ‘slum’ among the common crowd. “A thousand apologies, Kami-sama,” Kakashi placated Miriyume’s obviously distraught senjutsu patron.  “The Lady Ice Flame appears to be sleep-walking, or rather, sleep-fighting, at the moment.  My students and I are trying to wake her.” Sharing this knowledge cooled the storm kami’s ire somewhat, abating the electricity in his strange eyes. ***“My Stormling doesn’t sleepwalk,”*** Raijin declared stubbornly, releasing Kakashi’s shirtfront to let him fall to the rough-hewn, stone-cobbled ground. ***“Never has.  She wouldn’t just suddenly pick it up...”*** The kami returned his attention to his priestess, scrutinizing the tenebrous vines that bound her catatonic form. Kakashi stood up out of the swirling, knee-high mists, and took a moment to regard his surroundings: a Shinto-style, open-air temple atop a steep tor, surrounded completely by thick forest and stormy weather. A lone, majestic torii gate, built from some petrified wood, presided over this sacred space.  A thick braided shimenawa, ornamented by shide, hung below a tablet bearing the name of this place: Tetsu Yagura (Iron Tower).   A frustrated snarl directed his attention back to Raijin, who was attempting to free his charge of the offending tentacles.  He’d managed to peel some away, only to have more appear to replace it. ***“This jutsu HAS to be rooted in her baser mind,”*** the god factored aloud, as Kakashi moved closer. ***“And that’s a place beyond my reach, thanks to your cursed little CAVEAT, Stormling-chan!”*** he raged at Miriyume’s passive face. ***“Never again will I allow you to fetter me!”*** “How has she fettered you?” Kakashi dared. ***“None of your business, you....presumptuous mortal!*** he shot back testily, turning eyes that angrily spat building energy back on him.  They now sported iridae of palest blue, with star-shot pupils that showcased the unfathomed edges of night. ***“So....”*** he continued in a somewhat calmer tone, ***“How exactly have you attempted to wake her?”*** “By all the ususal methods, Kami-sama,” Kakashi bowed in respect, trying to employ the forms of address he reserved for speaking to his most honored elders as a child; his humblest manner.  “Touch.  Talking.  Shouting.  Genjutsu release techniques.  Sharingan.  Minor injury–“ ***”What?!?”*** Raijin had only whispered the question, but his inquiry had instantly chilled the blood in Kakashi’s veins, and sent his rational mind into a panicked run for a safety.  All of his being screamed in silent, primal terror as the god was suddenly uncomfortably close again, giving him no time to backpedal. ***“What do you mean, ‘minor injury’?!?”*** the kami’s banking ire was again reflected in the tempestuous atmosphere. “A minor cut to the back of the right shoulder...from a shuriken, Kami-sama,” Kakashi quickly gushed in defense, eyes cast respectfully down at the god’s waraji sandals.  “Using my Sharingan was our last resort.” A brief pause that seemed to stretch eons fell, until the god spoke again: ***“A Yaseiarashi’s mind is a dangerous place to wander, mortal,”*** Raijin began, moving to a less threatening distance. ***“The clan has a bit of an odd quirk, stemming from an ancient bloodline that condemned the majority of their ancestors to early self-destruction.”*** “Was it....like a ‘coldness of the soul’....” Kakashi ventured, immediately identifying all too well with the reality of depression. ***“No!  They’re berserkers, you idiot!”*** the kami clarified bruskly. ***“The generations they spent since I led them north has watered down the tendency somewhat, but Yaseiarashi are still very much creatures ruled by their hearts.  Stormling-chan is a little calmer than most, due to her mother’s influence, of course, and her senjutsu training.  But that primal rage still stirs at times.  Even I never seem to know what triggers it.  So unless you have her express permission, I’d advise keeping that red eye out of her head.  Got it?”*** “Understood, Kami-sama,” Kakashi nodded. Raijin went back to studying his sage-devotee, assessing the energy of the shadowy tentacles with passes of his pale, jade-nailed hands.  Again, he voiced his thoughts: ***“Whoever did this has most assuredly tapped into those baser, core instincts of her ara-mitama....much like you seem to do with annoying ease,”*** he grumbled the last part so low, Kakashi couldn’t tell the words apart from the nigh constant rumbles of thunder overhead. “Ara-mitama....?” ***“Her ‘rude soul,’”*** Raijin returned. ***“The part of a human spirit that only concerns itself with conflict and base urges.”*** “Then what is this?” Kakashi asked, regarding the present Miriyume.  He reached to touch the squirming smoke tendrils, but Raijin was quick to slap his hand away.  Either out of a protective instinct, or mere annoyance, he couldn’t factor. ***“That’s her kushi-mitama.  Her ‘wondrous soul’.  It’s her divine link to me.  The sliver of herself that resides in my personal shrine, and represents our sage contract.  Scrolls and blood are for amateurs,”*** the god lectured, ***“They can be stolen and misused.  But a piece of a person’s own spirit?  That’s inviolate, and an unbreakable bond, so long as we’re both willing.”*** “Doesn’t she miss this part of herself?” Kakashi openly wondered. ***“She can’t miss what hasn’t been taken!  She still has access to it!  It’s just housed somewhere else!”*** the kami rolled his flashing eyes. ***“Ugh....just think of it as being like one of those damnedable Shadow Clones that you’re so fond of, only....without the physical component.  Here in the Shinkai, there is no need for a physical form.”*** Following a small beat, where both resumed scrutiny of Miriyume’s serene face, Kakashi’s curiosity got the better of him: “So....how does she....summon you?” ***“‘Summon’!?”*** Raijin shrieked in offense. ***“I am Raijin no Mikado, son of His-Swift-Impetuous-Male-Augustness!  She doesn’t ‘summon me’!  She makes offerings....prays....and I generally listen!  Or I just show up whenever the fancy strikes me!”*** “Except for now...” Kakashi winced before the words had left his lips, knowing full well the consequences.  But he just couldn’t help himself. ***“MIND YOUR TONGUE, YOU SACRILEGIOUS FOOL, or I’ll give you ANOTHER reason to wear that mask!”*** Raijin thundered, as he channeled a blinding amount of silver lightning into himself, then sent a good portion of it Kakashi’s way. Two memories of Miriyume surfaced abruptly: the first time he saw her Storm Gauntlet jutsu, and the underwater “Kraken” incident that snuffed his shadow clone. The congruity between sage practitioner and patron had never been clearer. As the tragically insubordinate jonin fell to his knees in tingling pain, be berated himself for indulging in such time-consuming banter.  Miriyume’s life was at stake here! Kakashi forced himself back to a standing position.  As painful as that divine lightning attack had been, it had a curious priming effect in his chakra pathways, triggering an unbidden surge of his own lighting chakra arcing across his body. For the first time since the tentacles had enveloped her, Miriyume’s ‘wonderous soul’ moved, turning her face toward Kakashi, shocking her kami patron.  Raijin took a closer look at this infuriating man, and immediately understood why. When Kakashi next dared to raise his odd eyes in the silence that had followed the angry god’s outburst, he found Raijin’s stern...yet obviously amused, expression silently assessing him. ***“That’s an interesting chakra affinity you have there, Thundercloud,” the god smirked, bestowing him with a new pet name, ***“Very clean and precise in nature.  Meticulously honed to strict perfection, like a samurai’s treasured sword.”*** The god’s sudden geniality was alarming. “You flatter—“ ***”The TOTAL opposite of my Stormling’s affinity!”*** Raijin cut off belligerently. ***“Her chakra is an emotional maelstrom that deeply resents imposed structure.  She lays waste to the walls you seek to fortify!”*** he divulged with a cruel cackle and sigh. ***“Oh....its all too hilariously perfect,”*** he wept sadistically, using a hand to massage his brow. ***“These little human ironies can be so damn amusing...”*** Kakashi was lost.  This was too much to absorb in his emotionally exhausted state.   ***“Now, go back out there, and break her out of this damned jutsu, already!  Here’s a piece of free advise: she really resents being the butt of this kind of genjutsu crap!”*** “But...” Kakashi’s over-extended mind struggled for answers, “How?!” raising his hands in supplication of the oncoming kami. ***“Haven’t you been paying attention, Thundercloud?”*** the kami taunted, eyes narrowed. ***“Or did you ultimately blame that spiritual magnetism you both experienced on a piece of knitted neckwear, like that Inuzuka-whelp did?”*** With a touch of Raijin’s finger against his temple, Kakashi’s mind was forcibly jogged back to the night in Shimogakure, when his and Miriyume’s lightning jutsu slammed them together, entwining them with his red scarf. ***“I always held out the hope that you’d be smarter than that...”*** recoiling his finger, and engulfing his hand with his silver-hued, electricity. “So, you’re saying that our chakra affinities are....drawn toward one another?” Kakashi frenetically factored. ***“Uh-huh,”*** Raijin nodded. ***“Like iron to lodestone.  It’s a pretty rare thing, nowadays,”*** re-shaping the flashing, silver energy into the likeness of Kakashi’s own Chidori, then morphing it into Miriyume’s Storm Gauntlet.  “I’ve only known of a few other cases, myself, and only one of those pairings ever managed to realize it.  So, if you would be so kind as to PRESERVE THIS PARTICULAR EXAMPLE!”*** he snapped back into his god-voice while his hand formed the Seal of Confrontation. “But...what am I supposed to DO?!?” Kakashi begged, correctly guessing what was about to happen. ***“How about using that Chidori that made you so famous...Thundercloud?”*** Raijin suggested with a wicked grin, as he cast him back to the physical plane. Ryuuyuki had managed to bind her in his Shimenewa jutsu, pinning her arms tight against her sides with the thick braid of golden straw rope. “Are you declaring me to be yorimashi, ani-san?” Miriyume grunted, as she struggled to break free of the binding technique.   “Surely my little sister doesn’t need a bit of rope to realize she’s an Emissary of Heaven...?” Ryuuyuki returned sweetly, then used the blunt side of his sword to prod at the swells of breast and butt flesh that escaped the bindings.  “....despite her earthy appetites?” he began reproachfully.  “I don’t remember you having quite so much....padding, before.  Still addicted to tempura and gyoza, I take it?” “I haven’t heard any complaints about my proportions!” Miriyume growled back.  “In fact, my latest admirer wrote a whole choka poem about my brea–“ ”That’s enough!” Ryuuyuki cut her off before she could elaborate further. “There are some things that an older brother NEVER wants to hear about.” “Is that why you always had to scare away all the guys who actually HAD an interest in me?” Miriyume snapped, still trying to wriggle free. “That was part of it,” Ryuuyuki admitted freely.  “The other part being that they were all LOSERS!” Miriyume chuckled softly.  “Oh, ani-san....how little you know....” shaking her head.  “There were much bigger losers to follow...” “I know, Kaki-chan,” he began, crossing his arms and aspecting a frightening amount of seriousness.   “I know everything.  I know about this wedding, and I know the depth of Tsuroyuni evil.  And I know that if I were still among the living, I would never have allowed this arrangement to progress any further than his pathetic request.” “But, the treaty—“ ”—Is not worth the risk, little sister,” her brother declared resolutely. “And the reckoning....?” Miriyume pushed. Ryuuyuki bowed his dusty violet crowned head and forced a smile; his gesture of humble defeat.  “You were always so much more altruistic that I, the demon-slayer, ever was, Kaki-chan. The irony isn’t lost.” With a gesture, he released her bindings, and held his arms open wide for a hug. Raijin dumped Kakashi right back into the scene he’d left, with Miriyume pinned up against him. Squeezing his right eye shut, he shouted instructions to his genin: “Get back!  All of you!  Go find some medical-nin!” “Why?” Naruto demanded, not liking his teacher’s tone.  “What are you going to do?” “I’m going to wake her!” Kakashi returned, as he pushed the sage-priestess out to arm’s length in front of him, and began to channel lightning into his right hand. “Kaka-sensei, NO!” Sakura screamed, from where she clung to Sasuke’s oddly supportive shoulder.  Miriyume’s chakra-blast had left her with mild vertigo.  “Not that!” she protested weakly, remembering the too-still form of Haku. Naruto roared in wordless indignation, completely dumbstruck. Kakashi’s coalesced lightning nature had an immediate effect on Miriyume.  Her eyes became focused upon his handful of branching, blue plasma, as it tugged her spirit back to waking life.  Her entranced glide fell into a defensive crouch. “What the—?!” he indignant voice broke past a rising sob in her throat, as she dropped her sword from her trembling hand, and watched it stick into the boggy mire she was inexplicably wading in.  Tears welled up,  and poured down her flushed cheeks. Kakashi doused his lightning with a shuddering sigh....a split-second before Naruto’s furious bodyslam that sent him and his enraged attacker skidding across the water. “HOW DARE YOU!?!” Naruto growled, his bestial, slitted eyes boring into his.  “How DARE you use that evil jutsu on HER!” For the love of all gods, how many divine contests would he have to endure today? “It wasn’t intended to hurt her, Naruto-san,” Kakashi assured gently, trying to placate the dangerous fox-demon that lurked behind his student’s feral eyes.  “I just realized that the display of lightning would break her trance.  Look!” he pointed toward the priestess. Her arms were hugged tight against her chest in an effort to preserve her modesty.  Her wild eyes were darting about, trying to take stock of the bizarre situation.  She was shivering, clearly on the verge of a nervous breakdown. “What....the hell....am I doing out here?!” she shouted in voice that vied between utter misery and maniacal laughter. “You were sleep-walking, Miriyume-sama,” Sakura answered gently, just before a freak burst of wake turbulence descended upon them, buffeting them all closer to the ground. This was immediately followed by a couple of loud splashes on either side of their marsh-bound ensemble.  Whatever had caused it was obscured by the thickening morning mist that was now steaming from the water surface. A uncharacteristic panic took hold of Miriyume, and she shouted out to the unseen threat: “NO!  Mother, I–“ The rest of her unsettling plea was lost as a three-meter bird’s beak struck down, and snapped her neatly up. Naruto and Sakura both screamed and clutched at their respective partner, as they all watched in helpless horror as the immense, platinum-feathered heron raised its great bill to the sky, and swallowed its prize. Kakashi’s stomach lurched in protest as he watched the bulging mass of Miriyume travel down its serpentine neck.  He could still hear the muffled sounds of her rage as she fought against the throat muscles working to ingest her. “Good morning, ever-vigilant ninja of the Leaf,” came a dulcet-toned, feminine voice from out of the clearing mists.  The morning sunlight projected her approaching silhouette onto the thinning vapors between them, indicating an angelic shape with elegant, outstretched wings.  By the time the vapors had disbursed enough to permit them their first glimpse of the Heron sage, the wings had been folded away. She was heavily cloaked, as usual, in an exquisite garment made of feathers.  The hem of her gown floated entirely above the surface of the foul water.  A vision of supreme serenity in stark contrast of the abounding madness. “Once again, my husband’s proud boasts of your village’s talents seem like pale praise in light of your actions.” Naruto, of course, was the first to break the pall of sheer terror that had struck them, addressing the one question they all had: “What MONSTER just ate Aunty-Priestess-Knock-Out-sama?!?!” “Gintsubasa is not a monster,” Renara smiled.  “She’s my primary sage-summon.” Renara raised her hand as she stood in the spot previously occupied by her daughter, and the unnervingly large beak once again descended into view. The Heron Priestess pulled a tattered bit of torn, black lace from the massive bird’s lightly serrated bill, as she continued to answer the unasked questions: “Miriyume-chan was not ‘eaten’.  She was...contained.  Gintsubasa possesses a special crop that can hold and purify a person of my choosing.  She can cure most diseases, poisons, and mental disorders.” “So...Miriyume-sama is safe in there?” Sakura asked, moving closer to the enigmatic woman stroking the terrifyingly large heron’s chin feathers.  They looked so wondrously soft.... “Safer than the Sun Goddesses’ favorite Pekingese lap dog,” she assured, as her hooded eyes turned to the form of Kakashi, who stood nearby in respectful attention. “Well,” Naruto continued petulantly, “Aunty-Knock Out didn’t seem too happy to go...” “She never is.  I created this jutsu to ease the burdens put on medical-nin, but then I began to employ it as holding cell for my disobedient children.  You can understand how they came to dread this technique.” “Maa...I don’t suppose you could fit a few more in there....” Kakashi asked, placing a hand on Naruto’s head, as Sakura and Sasuke crept forward to touch Gintsubasa’s compliant head. “Hey!” Naruto protested, scowling. Renara laughed.  “No.  One at a time, I’m afraid.  But when Gintsubasa-sama coughs her back up in a few hours, Miri-chan will feel like she’s spent a relaxing day at an Onsen.” “Ugh...” Sakura huffed, feeling very self-conscious in front of the beautiful snowy-plumed bird and the bafflingly immaculate priestess.  “A hot spring sounds incredible at the moment,” she announced sullenly, wiping at the pond scum that coated her red tabard. “I agree,” Sasuke seconded, lighting up Sakura’s eyes,  “I am covered with filth.” “There is an actual hot spring nearby,” Renara returned, as the heron lowered its head to facilitate an easier route for her adopted Senjutsu practitioner, “Run by a couple of elderly orchard farmers...” “I know of this place, Heron Priestess-sama,” Kakashi acknowledged.   Renara paused in her boarding of Gintsubasa’s waiting crown to regard this evanescent ninja who factored so prominently in her daughter’s life.   “You do not have to address me so formally, Kakashi-san,” she informed pleasantly.  “Renara will do...” “Very well, Renara-sama.  But, permit me to make a desperate appeal to you before you go.”  He pressed his palms together, and bowed low before her: “Please, take the Lady Ice Flame, and leave this place.  Her bridegroom is a cold, cruel man with only the darkest of intentions, and I am sick with fear for your daughter’s life whenever they are together.” “That goes double for me, Scary-Bird-Sage Priestess-sama!” Naruto added, copying Kakashi’s humble posture.  “That Asaito-sama’s a total creep, and doesn’t deserve to even look at Aunty Knock-Out-sama!” “You can’t let her marry him,” Sakura chimed in, “He’s just too....evil!” “His shinobi are mercenary scum who are terrified of him and his monk.  They secretly dream of the day his clan dies out, and that would include the Lady Ice Flame if this ceremony happens!” Sasuke further vouched.  “You can not permit her to become lost in this darkness!” The Heron priestess permitted a solemn moment before answering in a voice that brimmed with equal parts gratitude and sorrow. “In all of this, we are agreed.  But there is one problem here: My beloved, impulsive, reckless daughter has made up her mind.” “Then keep her prisoner in that heron’s crop, and let us handle the consequences!  You hired the Leaf to protect the Lady Ice Flame, let me do my job, I beg you!” Renara lifted her heavy cowl enough to reveal her glassy green-and-gold eyes, and the blush of emotion across her pale cheeks. “I could never allow you to face the brunt of that man’s ire alone.  The horror of his clan was an ancient evil even in the founding days of Uzushiogakure.  It is said that even the Mizukage fears his displeasure. “But my daughter believes that she can....” the sage-priestess reached out and took Kakashi’s hands, and caught his lone eye in hers, “...fix this.  Contain his evil.” They were carefully selected words, meant to convey some deeper meaning, Kakashi realized. “And in light of her past accomplishments,” Renara continued, releasing his hands, “I must trust her, despite the pain this....enterprise causes.  I suggest that you do the same.” She then lowered her hood back over her face, and stepped upon Gintsubasa’s head, who immediately relocated her to his snowy shoulders, and leapt into the morning sky. Naruto growled in defeated rage, and kicked at the foul water. “Then maybe her father will listen to us!” he snarled. “I doubt it,” Sasuke countered.  “Although the tribal laws of the Land of Frost declare equal standing among the sexes, there has always been a heavy bias toward matriarchy.  Especially regarding marriage and family matters.” “How come you’re such an expert all of a sudden?” Naruto demanded. “Because he paid attention in world history class, instead of drooling all over his desk!” Sakura defended. “Alright, alright, enough, all of you!” Kakashi snapped.  There were still other avenues to try.  Hope wasn’t lost yet.  “Let’s get cleaned up.  We can’t convince anyone of anything if we smell like a swamp.”

Tucked into the downy shelter of Gintsubasa’s nape, Renara permitted the pent-up tears to flow. The anguish in that man’s soul had nearly tore the full truth from her resentful lips.   “Are you alright, Renara-sama?” Gintsubasa’s concerned voice sounded in her thoughts. “No, Gintsubasa-san, I am not,” she replied.  “And I won’t be until this is over.  It pains me to lie to anyone, but never more than what I was just forced to withhold from that particular man now.” “This is a tender negotiation, Renara-sama,” the heron made an attempt at consolation.  “Secrecy is paramount.  That one’s ardor will work in our favor.” “Its cruel, Gintsubasa!” Renara returned.  “And I believe that Hiruzen-sama and I are going to have a long talk after this is all over...”

[ladyiceflame-blog]

An Inconvenient Wedding:

Chapter Fourteen: Hazardous Wagers

A celebratory roar of victory came to her moral rescue.  Her father had just won an arm-wrestling match against Matsuko, who was widely believed to be the strongest man ever born in Shimogakure, and kept returning home stronger with every mission. “You came close, lad,” the Shimokhan congratulated his soundly defeated opponent, who lay slumped atop his enormous folded arms on the small table’s edge.  “Your chakra reserve has expanded quite a bit from the last time, but its still not enough to get the best of my resources.” “I figured as much,” Matsuko admitted, sitting up, “But, I had to at least try.” Reveling in this latest victory, and perhaps the steady flow of ‘liquid courage’ that he’d been imbibing since arriving, the Shimokhan stood up, and regarded the room. “I believe I’ve beaten everyone at this point...” “Not everyone!” Miriyume corrected, taking the opportunity to remove herself from Kakashi’s scrutiny.  She placed Pakkun on her vacated seat, and went to her father’s side as cheers erupted around her. “Oh, kami,” Renara swore under her breath, setting aside her sewing and grabbing Wakame’s arm, “Get the water-jutsu users ready, I don’t want them burning down the tent this time!” “This....time..?” Kakashi asked, concern clearly showing. Gekido draped a slightly inebriated arm around his shoulders, and explained a bit: “Fire and lightning jutsus have some intense consequences, when pitted against one another....” he smiled drunkenly.  “They burned Shimogakure’s best inn down, a couple of years ago.  Are you any good at water techniques....?” “When the situation calls for it, yes,” Kakashi replied. “It probably will,” the Inuzuka intoned.  “Miriyume’s been looking forward to finally beating her Old Man at this game, once and for all.” They all watched as Wakame paused the match to switch out the basic wooden table for one of the iron chests, covered by some special cloth, and the audience was instructed to keep their distance. “I thought this was supposed to be a game about chakra and strength...” Kurenai openly wondered, as she and Kakashi both observed the scene in puzzlement. “Normally, yes,” Matsuko vouched, “But when two Yaseiarashi’s face off, the chakra-ante challenge doesn’t really matter much, being as how they have unlimited resources.” “...Like a couple of millionaires playing an endless penny-ante poker game,” Hiruzen supplied.  “Rather boring to watch.” “So,” Matsuko resumed, “They added another level of challenge...” “...Much to my annoyance,” Renara capped, as the opponents sat down at the makeshift table. “Ready, Old Man?” Miriyume smirked wickedly at her father. “Always ready, Little Girl!” Ryuumaru taunted, grinning just as evilly back. So that’s where she got that crooked smile from, Kakashi realized, as the two locked hands and waited for the signal to start. “Are you shaking?” Miriyume continued to try and psyche-out her foe, as Nobu took position to judge. “Just idling,” her father riposted, making her laugh just before the elite shinobi guard yelled, “GO!” Ryuumaru silently marveled at his daughter’s improved arm strength.  She had inherited his shorter, stocky frame, which included a broad set of shoulders that housed better-than-average upper body might.  Her time spent gallivanting about the world at large had developed this slight edge even further.  But it was still no match for his own muscles, which had spent decades pulling monstrous catches from the icy Northern Waters. The Shimokhan managed to push her arm to 45 degrees before she resorted to her favored Storm Gauntlet jutsu. Kakashi and Kurenai both jumped, as the dark, iridescent sparks engulfed her pale arm without any requisite hand jutsu.  Her lightning affinity had such an unusual color spectrum...   The Shimokhan growled through the slight pain, before countering with his own technique: “Fire style: Flame Gauntlet!” he announced, as amber-hued fire encased his arm.  The mustered water-style users went to work, shielding the crowd with a transparent, heavy water barrier. Where the two energies met, the air was warped with a frightening amount of heat.  It was clearly making Miriyume uncomfortable. “Ugh, you’re so predictable!” the kunoichi-priestess scolded, as she struggled to maintain leverage.  “Can’t you use anything else other than fire jutsu?!?” Ryuumaru laughed, as he willed the fire even stronger, “I could.  But I never had a need to against you, Miri-chan!” “You do now!” Miriyume matched her father’s stubborn refusal to submit, as the gold stars flashed in her eyes.  With her off hand, she made the elemental signs for first wind, then water, then slapped the table to enact the fusion of the two natures: “Ice Release: Winter’s Breath!” Miriyume announced, as a stream of compressed frost erupted from the palm of her other hand, putting her father’s fire jutsu back in check. Ryuumaru responded with laughter born of paternal pride, as he began to show signs of losing ground. “She can use Ice Release?!” Kakashi openly gawked. “She can use anything she wants,” Matsuko smiled smugly, “So long as she knows how to blend the chakra correctly.” “Any chakra?” Kurenai pressed, as the crowd cheered Miriyume as she slowly gained the advantage with her combined technique. “Well....she’s not too savvy on Yin or Yang release.  That was more her brother’s thing.  And she’s kinda forbidden from using any Dark chakra...” Gekido admitted.  Matsuko gave him an undisguised frown of disapproval. “What?” the Inuzuka defended.  “We’re amongst friends, aren’t we?  And its not like it’s a big secret...” “Neither is it a subject that I care to broadcast,” Renara concluded somberly. “Then I apologize, Priestess-sama,” Gekido atoned abruptly with a deep, sober bow.  “I will never speak of such things again.” Renara nodded her gratitude, and returned her green and gold eyes to the arm-wrestling.  The subtle power of this woman intrigued Kakashi.  Her voice never carried much above a quiet conversational volume, but when she spoke, EVERYONE listened....and obeyed.  The Elders of Konoha could only hope to achieve the influence of this Heron Sage Priestess. “Anyway,” Matsuko continued, after giving Gekido a slap to the back of his bowed head, “If it concerns Nature, or priestess chakra, Miri-chan has it covered.  Her Renkingen allows her to blend endless possibilities.” “Which can make life rather exciting at times...” Gekido added, as the crowd’s cheering surged in response to Miriyume bringing the back of the Shimokhan’s hand a mere inch away from the tabletop. “Get him, Miriyume-sama!” bellowed a cooking-nin from Kumogakure. The fire and frost jutsus were creating sauna-like conditions in the yurt. “Much more of this, and I’ll send out for some cedar branches!” Nobu warned, waving steam from in front of his eyes. “Purification rituals are what they do in that Koryomizu place,” Gekido snapped.  “Let’s steam some dumplings! “Make....mine....strawberry...” Miriyume grunted past the effort of keeping her father’s hand inches away from her victory. “Scupper your strawberry, Stormfly!” Ryuumaru growled, as he began to channel more chakra.  “This isn’t a steam table....it’s a Shimogakuran camp grill!  Fire Release: Emerald Furnace!” The golden amber of his fire became a brilliant jade green, burning so hot as to leech all the ambient moisture from the air, including the water barriers, making it as arid as the deserts of the Land of Air. Miriyume screamed in rage and intensified effort as she began to lose ground quickly to her father’s most powerful jutsu. “I’m impressed, Miri-chan,” Ryuumaru condescended, “You’ve never been able to push me to this jutsu before...” “Don’t....patronize me...” Miriyume grunted, as she furiously poured more chakra into her Winter’s Breath jutsu, earning her back a couple of agonizing inches.  Ryuumaru wasn’t even struggling anymore. “You were always so damned adorable when you’re overwhelmed...” her father continued, shaking his head as he began to ease her arm backward in gentle mockery. “And you....must not have paid much attention....in your science classes...” Miriyume countered, as her roiling, opalescent Sage energy voided the iris and pupils of her eyes, making them orbs of shimmering liquid iridescence. Renara immediately sensed the energies that her daughter was summoning and shouted out:  “Matsuko!  Now!  Sage Art: Thousand Crane Barrier!” and slammed both her hands on the ground, just before a loud crack, and a flash of lightning forced everyone’s eyes away from the competitors.  A sound like massive wings, and a gentle draft of cool air buffeted the audience, as they had their gaze averted.  When they turned back, a wall made of massive, silvery flight feathers had been erected around the combatants, and Matsuko was missing. “I’d forgotten how elegant your Sage art was, Renara-sama,” Hiruzen complimented, as he studied the platinum, nine-foot quills that sprouted from the ground, neatly hemming in her family’s reckless use of powerful ninjutsu. “Herons are elegant creatures,” Renara admitted.  “Their disciples could hardly be otherwise.” She took a moment to place a hand against the barrier, and sense what was happening on the other side. “Have they calmed down now, Matsuko-kun?” she called out. “They have, Priestess-sama,” the absent shinobi reported from the other side. “Did you have to use your heritage technique?” “Maybe a little....” Matsuko sheepishly returned. “Any injuries?” the sage-priestess continued. “No, Mother!” Miriyume reported irritably. In a quieter voice, she added: “We might need a new iron chest, though...” Renara dismissed her barrier, and revealed the hidden trio.  Matsuko was standing beside the other two, who were regarding the smoldering end of the iron chest.  Scorched, slumped ore made it look like the used end of a stick of sealing wax. “Well?!?” the Inuzuka prompted, as the three kept the rest of the tent on the edge of their seats. “She got me,” Ryuumaru huffed, crossing his arms and smiling. A human tsunami rushed in on Miriyume, and bore her aloft in a celebratory roar, as the Shimokhan moved to take a seat beside his wife at the bar. “Our little kunoichi’s all grown up now,” Ryuumaru declared somberly to Renara.  “Her power easily eclipses mine.”   The Heron Priestess gave his strong shoulder a gentle squeeze, as she watched him wipe away a small tear from his eye.  As proud as he was of Miriyume’s fierce autonomy, he had always been a little saddened it by it as well.  He couldn’t bear the thought of his little girl never needing him to fight her battles. Ryuumaru’s eyes remained glassy as he watched the dauntless musicians catch her and nearly everyone else up in a frenzy of triumphant dancing and singing. This was the Yaseiarashi trait that had been fused into the soul of their homeland: Unity through comradery.  As close to Ninshu as she’d ever found outside of Temples.   Renara laced her fingers into her husband’s, and offered verbal comfort: “You raised her to be strong, anata.  Just like you,” then kissed his stubbled cheek. “And you raised her well, Shimokhan,” Tosho rumbled from behind them, as he lay sprawled atop the counter.  “Never have I encountered a more tenacious spirit than Miriyume’s.  Her resolve can put some of the gods to shame.  Raijin being among them...” “Are you two fighting again?” Ryuumaru asked, giving the tiger a concerned look. “Raijin-sama and I never fight.  We merely...differ in practice,” his tail thumping against the bar. “You’re fighting...” the Shimokhan deducted with a laugh, scratching the great cat’s ear. Pakkun’s austere eyes were thoughtfully regarding Kakashi as he in turn watched Miriyume caper about the room with her countrymen.  There was something very different in his aspect.  A lightness of being that had eluded him for far too long. When Pakkun had first learned of this Miriyume, it had been en route to the distant and rarely acknowledged Land of Frost.  Kakashi was an Anbu captain back then, and had for some reason demanded a week-long vacation to ‘get away from it all.’  Sarutobi had to have been all too happy to comply, he’d wagered. Halfway into the trek north, he’d been summoned to provide company, conversation, and the scant advise that a ninken could offer on finding a rapport with a foreign kunoichi! Pakkun had been stunned, to put it bluntly.  Kakashi had never shown any interest in any girls before, although plenty had shown interest in him.  Why did this Frost maiden have such an immediate pull on him? Regarding her now, he could easily understand at least some of the attraction.  She was pretty.  She was vivacious. And there was a strange, magnetic quality that she unconsciously exuded.  Could it have something to do with her overflowing chakra....? What had happened all those years ago in Shimogakure? The entire way there, Kakashi had gushed about her hair, her smile, her eyes, her spirit...  He’d even agonized and rehearsed what he would say when he found her again.  And he’d brought her a gift: a small box of chocolates.  The kind his mother used to love, and frequently receive from Sakumo.  Kakashi had once loved those chocolates, too, before his father had committed seppuku.  He’d sworn off sweets, and many other things on that day.   Finally, Pakkun had thought happily, He’d found his way out of the darkness! With spirits high, and a bit of nervousness, they emerged through the border forest that Kakashi had lead Team Ro through a mere week before.  He’d been told of this aurora borealis, but the sickly green glow in the skies above in no way resembled the ‘shining curtains of ethereal light’ that his master had described. There was no activity on the lake.  No music in the air.  The people they saw in town were quiet, somber, and avoiding all contact with them.  Nothing remotely resembling the much lampooned Shimogakure of popular report.  Pakkun’s keen nose could scent the pervasive sorrow.  Something horrible had happened here. He had tried to voice this dread to the boy before he’d caught the eye of a haggard-looking local, who had given a slight double-take at the half-masked stranger in his midst. “Um, excuse me....” Kakashi had called out, as he motioned grandly for the man’s attention.  “Where is the Yaseiarashi house?” The man’s eyes turned instantly glassy, and he shook his head and pressed his finger to his lips before turning away and continuing down the street. That wasn’t good enough for Kakashi.  He bolted through the melting snow drifts to stand in front of the man: “What has happened here?  Where is Miriyume?” His persistence earned him a sharp glare, and an angry pointing toward the north end of the village, far beyond the residential sectors.  The direction of the Memorial Gate.  The Shimogakuran cemetery. Pakkun clung desperately to the young ninja’s shoulder, as he launched himself through the eerily lit snow, down the path indicated. He heard the choke in Kakashi’s throat when he found the ash-charred plinth standing in mute testimony of the recent rites performed here.  He heard the small sob as he read the wind-tattered funeral banner, snapping in the frigid, hilltop breeze: Yaseiarashi. “No.”  Sinking to his knees in the frozen slush.  “Not her!  Not again...” Kakashi’s lament sent a painful tingling into Pakkun’s nasal cavities, causing a flood of warm tears through his thin fur.  Was this poor boy born under a cruel star? They spent a painful, numbingly cold night in a lonely vigil over a stranger’s grave.  When morning came, Kakashi set the box of chocolates, along with the metaphysical remnants of his heart, upon the soot-stained stone, and turned back for Konoha. That rare ember of true joy had been smothered, once again, killing the fledgling hope that had survived his many tragedies.  Kakashi never spoke her name to him again, in keeping with her strange country’s custom. But, here she was, so many years later, easily reigniting that elusive spark.  It was spring in Kakashi’s heart again, reclaimed from the long, cruel winter. Pakkun was deeply grateful, before an unnerving rumble made him jump. “Allow me to apologize for my prior behavior, admirable ninken,” Prince Tosho began, peering at him over the edge of the bartender’s side of the counter.  “Do you like dried yak?” “I’ve....never had dried yak...” “Then you must try this....” the tiger disappeared for a moment, then leapt atop the bar with a large sack of heavy burlap in his mouth.  He laid down, and used his enormous paw to pin it down, and tore it open with his fearsome teeth.  A carnivore’s fortune of seasoned, dried meat came tumbling out between the tiger’s paws.  Pakkun’s nose was enchanted. “This is an unofficial currency of Shimogakure,” Tosho explained, as he took a mouthful and began to eat.  “They use it as their main shinobi protein ration.” Pakkun was transfixed, and moving closer, desperate for a bite.  “It smells amazing....” licking drool as he watched more of the savory staple disappear in the tiger’s mouth. “Then why don’t you join me,” shoving a generous amount the pug’s way, “...and tell me more about your master?” Humans had their whiskey, but Tosho had always found the exotic taste of yak to be a better form of bribery among his bestial peers. As Gekido finished the final chorus of one of her favorite songs, Miriyume took a moment to survey the room: her homeland.  Her allies.  This was what this whole thing was ultimately for.  Securities for the future.  A step closer to realizing the dreams handed down by the Sage of the Six Paths.  This treaty would happen, dammit, she vowed silently, as she quashed her insecurities deeper into the pit of her stomach.  Shimogakure needed to light another candle against the encroaching darkness.  Then a clumsy, strong hand took hold of her shoulder. Gekido, who was undeniably drunk. “You’ve been sampling from too many hip flasks again,” Miriyume chided, knowing her team-mate’s stubborn habit of mixing his alcohol.  It never went well for him. “I’m blaming the wine that your Lord Creep-master brought to dinner,” Gekido reeled unsteadily.  “Too damn sweet...threw me off my game!  And speaking of games....” pointing in the direction of the freshly set arm-wrestling table, “I challenge you, Sparkler, to a match!” Miriyume allowed him to drag her to a seat, humoring her cherished companion.   The Inuzuka did have a slight chance of success here.  He had more upper body strength, and much faster reflexes that her, honed in tune with his bestial instincts.  And being drunk had the interesting effect of speeding his already insane reaction time up.  If he could manage to slam her hand against the table faster that she could properly phase her chakra, he’d win. “Are you sure about this, Gek-kun?” she asked, as she watched Aoseishin clamber up onto the chair behind him, and place his large front paws on his human’s shoulders. “Sure I’m sure!” Gekido replied breezily.  “You just arm-wrestled the hardest match of your life, and I’m fresh out of the gate!  And also, Ao and I have been working on a new technique, so prepare yourself, you...obnoxious oppai!” “Then let’s make this interesting....and play for the Stone,” Miriyume returned.  “I want to wear it tomorrow, and its mine turn to have already, since the Iron Chest Grappling.” “...and the game of Kraken....” Matsuko added, looking on. Gekido reached into the small pouch located under his ninkin’s neck bandana, and produced the amber chrysanthemum trinket.  He reverently laid it on the table between them. “I’ll let you hold onto it for luck, even though I’m about to HUMILIATE you!” Gekido offered, in his sweet-and-sour fashion. “We’ll see....drunkard!” she taunted back, as they waited for the referee.

“What is the significance of that stone?” Kakashi inquired, standing beside Matsuko among the small audience that was gathering. “It’s kind of our lucky charm,” the serene giant answered.  “It was a gift from our first team sensei.   Our best sensei.” “I heard that you had more than is customary,” Kakashi, before Matsuko cut him off with the information he was fishing for: “We had six.  Not counting the independent tutors that Miri-chan had to suffer through.” “Six?!?”  The Leaf jonin was truly astounded. “Can you imagine?” Matsuko continued, “Four grown adults, scared off by a passive brute, a feral smartass, and a hot-blooded ginger who had made friends with a storm kami?  We weren’t the easiest genin trio to sponsor.  We left our last sensei before he could abandon us, right after our chunin exams, to protect him, and chose to wander the world.  But our original sensei...Hato-sensei,” he paused a little, out of obvious respect.  “She left this world to protect us.  I don’t know if we’ll ever be able to forgive her for that.” His stark admission took Kakashi slightly aback, as the random fragments of Miriyume’s past were connected, bringing their strange story into sharper focus. They wandered the world because they wanted to avoid the pain of harming those they loved, and/or being hurt by those same people!   He had adopted a similar mind set, long ago, before realizing the perpetual torment such a practice bestowed.  But where he had adopted a cold, callous front as a barrier against others, these three zealously embraced the all the world had to offer, then slipped off into the distance before any harm was done. He wondered at who’s was the crueler method. “Such is the burden of teaching; the constant fear of disappointing your students,” Kakashi offered.  “But you are hardly alone in that tragedy.  I lost my team sensei as well.” Matsuko turned his full attention on the Leaf jonin, silently prompting him to continue. “And I never had another.  But, my circumstances were very different...” “Are you ready, Ao?” Gekido asked. Aoseishin answered with an eager bark, and the referee called the start. As expected, Gekido’s arm worked like an ice-bear trap, moving so fast that Miriyume’s knuckles would have surly been bloodied were it not for her opening with a calculated burst of chakra when the ref first began to speak. “Heh, not so easy this time, eh, Sparkler....?” Gekido teased, using his greater strength to muscle her arm backward, as she internally wagered her next chakra surge. “So what’s this....new technique you’re bragging on....?” Miriyume grunted, as she regarded the snowy furred dog’s friendly face, as it rested atop Gekido’s Shimogakuran standard shepherd’s hat.  “Distracting Hat Jutsu?” “Is it working?” the Inuzuka asked. “No!” she proved her claim with another surge of chakra that returned their clasped hands to the starting position. “Then I’d better try this then: Ao!  Bellows on Drum Technique!” Miriyume watched as Aoseishin dismounted his owner’s shoulders, and padded over to stand beside her.  He then stuck his cold, wet nose in her ear, and started snuffling.  It was Gekido’s favorite way to wake her out of a dead sleep, because it always worked, and she could never vent her indignant rage upon the ninken. With a squeal, Miriyume slammed Gekido’s surprised hand to the table in a large burst of crackling energy that sent the dog leaping away. “I can’t believe that you call that a ‘technique’!” Miriyume half raged, half mocked, as she stood up and shoved her opponent out of his chair.  “Was that even legal?” “Any collaborative method between an Inuzuka and their ninken is recognized as a legal technique,” Nobu cited. “All the good it did you!” Miriyume scolded, as she pounced upon Gekido and began to throttle him. “Hey!  It was his idea!” the Inuzuka tried to shift the blame to his ninken, as he desperately tired to protect his painfully ticklish ribs. Aoseishin sat stoically watching the tussle, and grumbled audibly at the accusation.   “Shame on you, blaming Aoseishin!” a Frost kunoichi decried from the sidelines. “Punish the transgressor of canine honor!” a grizzled old Inuzuka man bellowed as he scratched his equally grizzled wolf-hound ninken under his chin. “Hear that, Gek-kun?” Miriyume smiled, as she held her team-mate pinned firmly against the ground, straddling his abdomen in a rather unladylike way.  “I am simply enforcing a clan dictate...” as she held her hands before her and arced a mild current between them menacingly. “No!” Gekido squirmed with renewed vigor, “Not the ‘ear-zaps’!” “Yes, the ‘ear-zaps’!” someone else in the laughing crowd countered. Miriyume’s face was pure sadistic glee, as she focused the iridescent sparks to her fingertips. “You know too well what breathing in my ear does to me, you shameless cur!” she hissed. “So...I accidently found one of your little kinks...” he whined, “There’s no need to abuse mine!” “....And that’s enough of tonight’s drunken confessions, guys,” Matsuko announced, as he lifted Miriyume off of her victim, and placed her back in the arm wrestling champion’s chair.  “And it appears that you have another challenger, Miri-chan,” directing her attention to the man who sat opposite her. “Yo,” Kakashi acknowledged with a small wave. Like a charm, all of Miriyume’s indignant ire melted away as she focused on the man’s lone smiling eye. Matsuko filed that information away for future reference. After the initial, annoyingly recursive thrill his presence seemed to give her, Miriyume narrowed her eyes and made a rough quantification of his chakra.  Not good.  In gambling terms, he couldn’t even meet her usual opening ante. “You do know how to play this game, right?” she asked, smoothing her distressed kimono. “My ‘Eternal Rival’ at home is a big fan, and challenges me often,” Kakashi replied, as he flexed the artful fingers of his right hand.  “So, yes....all too well.” “‘Eternal rival....?” she echoed curiously, offering her hand. “It’s a long story...” placing his leather-clad palm across her smaller, pale one, and curling the fingers against its nearly translucent skin.  Her nails had been manicured and lacquered since the Kraken game, in a rather beguiling shade of red, “...for another time.” “I’ll hold you to that,” she winked, as the audience began to amass around them.  “Now, prepare to lose!” she taunted, tightening her grip a second before Nobu said: “Begin!” The feel of her sinewy hand clutching his, combined with the playful, impish gleam in her eyes nearly had him defeated before they’d started.  And she effortlessly countered his chakra bids, forcing him to rely his muscles.  Her own surprised him with their unexpected strength. “Limitless chakra and brawn? Kakashi acknowledged, as she bested his frugal chakra expenditure yet again.  He put more power into his arm, and briefly toyed with the idea of opening the First Gate. “Frail women don’t last long up in the North,” Miriyume riposted in a strained voice.  Kakashi was easily as strong as Gekido, and nearly as fast-reflexed.  Only her chakra would win her this battle, but it seemed so....unsporting. And thus engaged, she got to hold his hand.... He could smell the amber resin that she’d dusted across her collar, and down her sternum, brought into sharper scent by her warmer body temperature.  His steadfast, constant pressure against her hand was causing her to bite her lower lip, and make the most distractingly seductive noises of strain as she held out. He could feel the building energy of her chakra reserves being channeled into another wave that would easily eclipse his own.  Her priming growl of focus sent coppery tasting wetness leaking down behind his mask.  Time to get serious... “Have you ever arm-wrestled an Uchiha?” Kakashi asked. “No, why–“ she managed to answer before her opponent raised his forehead protector, revealing the Sharingan. She watched spellbound and the three tomoe spun into mesmerizing rotation, as he casually stepped over the threshold of her mind. She could see him, like a visitor in her metaphysical library, casually perusing the haphazard scrolls of her mind. ***”So, this is him, huh...?*** —“Raijin-sama!”—Miriyume jumped in reaction to her kami’s sudden presence.  His plasma-suffused eyes studied the latest trespasser into her mental palace with grudging curiosity.   ***”The famous, or perhaps, infamous, Kakashi Hatake, sifting through your formative year memories... like a sushi chef at a bake sale....”*** —“What?!?”— Miriyume, taking insult at the strange metaphor. ***”Well, LOOK at him!  He’s so...understandably confused and overwhelmed.  I almost feel sorry for him.”*** The image of Kakashi jumped back as a shelf of manga-styled books fell in response to his browsing.  He then moved to examine one of the many pillars of free-stacked hardbound tomes. —“How is he in here?”— Miriyume asked, watching him with a mixture of wonder and alarm. Yeah, Raijin rolled his stormy, pupil-less eyes in resignation.  There was a strong attraction brewing here.  Normally, such invasions of her privacy were met with....painful consequences.  Usually a stinging mental blast of her plentiful chakra.  Her subconscious-self seemed to have rolled out the red carpet for this one. ***“You are aware of what a Sharingan can do, aren’t you?  Even if it is only a half-assed one...”*** Raijin returned petulantly. —“Can he...see us?”--- ***”No.  He’s only focusing on your past at the moment,”*** as they watched him move closer to an old, hand-hewn wooden desk, covered in locked journals and years of emotive carvings onto its surface.  A manifestation of an entire life’s worth of the most secret feelings of a highly emotional girl. ***”Do you really want him looking through all that?”*** he warned. —“It’s not like he can open any of them,”--- Miriyume scoffed, then shrieked in horror as the elaborate locking mechanism on her most recent journal sprang open in a small cloud of dust at his touch.  Raijin laughed at her plight. ***“You were saying...?”*** ---“He....he can’t....”—stumbling weakly towards Kakashi. ***”I think he just proved otherwise...”*** —“He mustn’t!”— sinking to her trembling knees. —“He’ll find out!”--- Raijin arched an emerald eyebrow. ***”He has reduced you to a complete invertebrate!”*** he scolded in sadistic amusement, crouching beside her trembling, teary-eyed form.  There was much more than just the Sharingan at work here.  She was transfixed by some kind of emotional current; completely paralyzed from taking any action against the man. He stopped laughing. ***”In the Name of Me...”*** he swore, standing up over his lone, cherished priestess.  He knew this day would happen.  But why did it have to happen now? Raijin snapped her journal shut with a thought, and sent a ripple of static through the desk for good measure.  To his surprise, Kakashi simply shook it off, reached for another of the journals. ***”Aren’t we the curious one!”*** he mocked, sending another jolt into the book, forcing him to drop it.  Again, he persisted in his browsing. ***”Can I show this upstart the door already?”*** Raijin asked, cracking his knuckles menacingly as he looked back at his soul-stricken priestess, who nodded emphatically. The brief glimpse Kakashi caught of Miriyume’s mind only confirmed what he’d suspected all along: she was a bafflingly complex, emotionally driven creature. Usually, the Sharingan could skim a person’s thoughts, and gain a general understanding of intent or mind set, like the time he synced up with Zabuza’s violent thoughts.  But this.... This was like trying to find his bearings in a raging hurricane of random events, punctuated by blinding bolts of psychological overload.  And just when he thought he’d found some shelter from her mental tempest, it was lost in an explosion of chakra that sent him hurtling clear out of her mind. A second after Kakashi had used his Sharingan, Miriyume gasped and yanked her hand away, recoiling so far as to stand up and back into Matsuko’s surprised arms. “Miriyume-sama forfeits!” Nobu announced, drawing varied reactions from the crowd. “How DARE you sneak into my head!” Miriyume censured the winner angrily. “Yeah, Hata-ka-ta-ka-ke!” Gekido seconded drunkenly.  “Have the courtesy to take her out for a nice dinner, first!” “I...meant no offense, Miriyume-sama,” Kakashi apologized, attempting to stand.  He fell back into the chair with a groan.  His sight began to warp the world around him like a fun-house mirror.  Using the eye had been reckless.  “It’s merely a tactic I employ in pressing circumstances...albeit an expensive one.” “Kakashi-kun?” Kurenai rushed over to assess her compatriot’s general health.  “You look like you’re about to pass out!” “Lightweight!” Gekido mocked from the floor, as Aoseishin obliged him as a makeshift pillow. Hiruzen sighed.  “Why do you always push yourself to this ridiculous extent of chakra exhaustion, Hatake-san?  Even as a small child, before acquiring the Sharingan, you were constantly doing this!” Renara smiled wistfully, reminded of how she used to lecture another child prodigy with a very different dojutsu.  Eyes that even confounded the owners most of the time.  Ryuuyuki had been just as stubbornly driven, but he had a distinct advantage that everyone else lacked. The Heron Priestess gave her remaining child a pointed nudge toward the weakened victor. “Extend your hand,” Miriyume instructed Kakashi, as she reclaimed her seat across from his slumped form. Weakly, he slid a hand toward her. “Remove your glove,” she commanded testily, annoyed by the staggering amount of clothing layers this man had.  Honestly, there were permanent residents of Shimogakure who bared more skin in the deepest part of winter! “Bedside manners, Stormfly-chan,” Renara reprimanded softly, as Kurenai assisted with removing Kakashi’s glove.  “And don’t flood the poor man.  Raise the tide gently....like a spring thaw...” Miriyume placed her palm flat against his bare one, aligning their most commonly used tenketsu, and began to gently transfer chakra. Kakashi’s blurred vision began to regain its sharp resolution, as a heady drought of Ninshu-distilled chakra was poured back into his being.  The was different from the chakra infusions of the medical-nin, as it was laced with the spiritual training of a mystic.  The peace it conferred upon his heart made the Sharingan begin to water up. “That replacement eye steals more than it should,” Miriyume remarked icily, as he used it to watch the opalescent stream of priestess chakra course its way up his arm, enveloping him in its aurora-like radiance.  “Cover it.” Kakashi obliged her with a smile.  “I was only enjoying the lights that time, I promise.” Miriyume bit her lip and turned away, cheeks blushing slightly at her paranoia being called out. “The Sharingan is the most useful give I’ve ever received, but the chakra tax is obscene,” Kakashi continued, finding the strength to sit up straighter. Gekido giggled like a small child from his spot on the floor.  “Obscene things!” “Speaking thusly,” Prince Tosho grumbled, as he padded onto the scene with flattened ears, and a sour glance toward the bar.  A great basso voice was singing a strange, choppy, tuneless song of nonsensical words, with the accompaniment of drunken drumming. “Oh, kami,” Renara sighed mightily with a face-palm, realizing at once who it was. “What on earth is that?” Kurenai openly asked, as she and Kakashi caught sight of a short, rotund man with his pants pulled up to his neck, rollicking about in rough time to the odd song, as the Shimokhan sang above the nearly breathless laughter of everyone in the tent. “The Yak Lullaby,” Matsuko proudly provided. “A song said to charm even the stampeding herds of musk ox,” the Hokage elaborated. “....and drive away any possessing a refined ear,” the tiger lord rumbled contemptuously, before turning to Miriyume.  “I’ll be taking my leave now, Miriyume-san,” giving her shoulder an affectionate nudge with his nose before disappearing in a puff of icy vapor. “And I believe that this concludes this evening’s offering of epic revelry....” Renara declared, casting a weary eye on her husband and his capering jonin captain.  Oetsu Tsuyoiude always encouraged Ryuumaru’s most idiotic stunts... “Is it that late already?” Miriyume asked, sounding a bit mournful, as she continued to channel chakra into Kakashi’s appreciative hand.  He had the most elegant fingers.  So long and dexterous... “Its past three in the morning, Miri-chan!” Matsuko chuckled. “Come on, little Stormfly,” the Heron Sage directed, patting her shoulder.  “The bride needs to get her sleep.  But first, help me reel-in your Father...” Miriyume gave Kakashi’s hand a brief squeeze, as she topped off his chakra reserve in a sudden rush, causing his senses to spin for a moment.  As her hand slipped from his weak grasp, a profound fatigue fell in on him.  Chakra replenishment couldn’t alleviate the utter torpor he’d achieved. “Can you make it back to your camp?” Matsuko asked Kakashi, recognizing the man’s lethargy.  “If not, you can crash with Gek-kun and I....” “Only if I can cuddle with his dog!” Gekido demanded. “I believe we can manage to get him where he needs to go,” Hiruzen answered, as he and Kurenai assisted Kakashi’s stand.  “And he’ll be fully recovered by morning.  I know how to make an excellent restorative miso for the body.” “Add some eggplant, and I’ll take it,” Kakashi smiled, and he settled into the duel support of his fellow villager’s shoulders.  “Where’s Pakkun?” “Right here, Boss,” the pug announced from the counter, still chewing a piece of dried yak. Kakashi’s eye flicked from him to the Lady Ice Flame, in silent reminder of his previous orders. “Got it, Boss,” acknowledged, and moved down the bar to keep vigilant watch over Miriyume, as she and her mother worked to corral the inebriated Shimokhan.

[ladyiceflame-blog]

So...if I share more drawings, will people read my fan-fic...?  It’ll explain more, I promise!

Here’s hoping...

“Pakkun is dangerously adorable....”

[ladyiceflame-blog]

Miriyume surprises Kakashi on his birthday.

Usually, she’s okay with baking things....cookies, brownies, scones....  But she wanted to do something ‘extra special’ for her most beloved...

[ladyiceflame-blog]

An Inconvenient Wedding:

Chapter Thirteen: The Undeniable Truth

Naruto glowered at the entry to Team Seven’s shared tent, determined to pounce on his sensei the moment he chose to reappear, and demand that this wedding be stopped.  The young genin had taken an instant liking to the high-spirited Frost kunoichi, but after learning of their possible blood ties, mere liking had developed into fiercer protective instincts. “Are you going to stare at that tent-flap all night?” Sasuke demanded, as he stoically endured Sakura’s first-aid.  She’d put a salve on his cut lip, a bandage wrap on his slightly skinned knee, and was currently putting a medicated gauze pad on a small scratch she’d found on his forearm. “Yes!” Naruto returned hotly. “You’ll be waiting all night, then,” Sakura warned.  “He’s going to go to that big party, like all the other adult shinobi.  We’ll be on our own tonight...minding the Daimyo...” Naruto growled in frustration.  “This stinks!  Kaka-sensei needs to know about those scrolls!  And Hinata-chan’s cousin!  Aunty-Priestess-Knockout-sama is in danger, and we can’t let her marry this skeevy guy!” “Did you just call the Lady Ice Flame...‘aunty’?” Sasuke smirked. “Yeah!” Naruto admitted, scratching the back of his head.  “Her mother’s last name was Uzumaki, wasn’t it?!  I’m entitled!” “You can’t know that she’s directly related to you by that fact alone,” Pakkun explained.  “The Uzumaki clan was scattered long ago, and their most dependable genealogy records were destroyed along with Uzushiogakure.” “There were many Uchiha who share a name, but no blood kin.  Hyuga are the same,” Sasuke explained. “I don’t care!” Naruto cut them all off.  “Priestess Knock-out is the only other Uzumaki I’ve ever seen, so I will claim her!  Even if what you say is true.”   There was a small pause for adjusted feelings before Naruto bolted from his cot, and began to put on his shoes, announcing his latest plan: “Time to crash the party!” “No you don’t, pup!” Pakkun barked, and bit onto the toe of his shoe, tugging it out of his hand.  “Kakashi-san told me to keep my eye on all of you, so you’ll be staying right here!” “What if I need to go to the bathroom...?” Naruto asked, eyes narrowed in annoyance. “Then I’ll get a leash, and take you for ‘walkies’....” Pakkun riposted. Sakura laughed.  Even Sasuke hid a chuckle behind a sudden need to cough. Naruto huffed, clearly not amused, and sullenly plopped back down onto his cot.  “Am I the only one who really cares about her around here?!?” “That’s a dumb question, even for you,” Sasuke returned.  “This entire campground cares about her!  Even this Asaito person, for the moment, at least.  Its highly unlikely that he’d do anything to harm her when he wants to marry her tomorrow.” “That’s a valid point, Sasuke,” Sakura concurred, as she moved to sit by Pakkun.  “Miriyume-sama is safe.  Perhaps safer than she’s ever been in her life.  Brides are always the most important guest at a wedding.” “Anyone who dares attack her will be torn apart,” Sasuke added.  “She is the Queen of the Moment, until...” “–Until..?” Naruto pressed. “Until she says her vow, and becomes Asaito’s wife.  Then she is beholden to his wishes.” Sakura shuddered.  Naruto scowled. “Not.  Happening!” the Uzumaki declared. “When is the ceremony supposed to start tomorrow?” Sakura asked. Sasuke shrugged his shoulders. “Then we’d better wake up really early, then, before anyone else does, and talk to Old Man Hokage, the Daimyo, Knock Out-sama’s Mom....anyone who can help us,” Naruto suggested. “Then we should all get some sleep while we can,” Sasuke continued. “What a wonderful idea,” their sensei chirped agreement, as he, quite suddenly, rushed into the tent, causing even Pakkun to jump slightly.  Kakashi was carrying a large, covered platter for some reason. “Kaka-sensei!” Naruto exclaimed, as he recovered from his fallen cot.  “Asaito and his monk are total creeps!  Believe it!  Hinata-chan said that they were sleezing up on one of her cousins!” “‘Sleezing,’ you say....?” Kakashi echoed, setting the tray on a table. “We saw scrolls that listed women from all over,” Sakura chimed in, “Like some kind of kunoichi Bingo Book!” Kakashi arched a silver eyebrow at her mention of that particular, obscure publication.  Anbu’s Most Wanted List was hardly common knowledge.... “Who told you about the Bingo Book?” Kakashi demanded.  Sasuke commandeered his attention with more interesting news: “All of Asaito’s guards are generously paid mercenaries, who are all petrified of their employer...and that monk.” “...and the monk smells of foul magic and unwholesome intent,” Pakkun added. “Sounds like the reconnaissance went well,” Kakashi congratulated.  “So, I believe that you’ve earned this....” lifting the lid from the platter, revealing three bowl of ice cream, topped with the most tantalizing candied apples that the genin had ever encountered. “What is that?!?” Naruto enjoined, already drooling. “A very special dessert from the Land of Frost called, ‘Fire on the Iceberg’,” Kakashi answered, as he blocked Pakkun from sniffing their exact contents.  “I asked the cooking-nin to make it....just for you.” The genin each took a bowl and began to eagerly eat.   Sakura squeeled in unabashed delight.  “These apples are so warm...and cinnamony!  Its like eating an autumn evening by fireplace!” “It does call autumn immediately to mind....” Sasuke agreed, trying to analyze the taste.  “It reminds me a lot of the cider my one cousin...used to make...” Pakkun huffed, and continued to glare at his contracted shinobi, feeling a bit betrayed by the snack-snubbing. “So,” the knucklehead ninja began, after drinking up the melted remnants of his bowl.  His tastebuds probably hadn’t had a chance to even register the flavor.  “How are we going to stop this stupid wedding tomorrow?” “By any means necessary,” Kakashi returned, “But only after we’ve exhausted every diplomatic method first.  Speaking of exhausted....” he allowed himself to slump against his dresser, “I am beat.  I’ll need to sleep a week straight after all of this.  But for now, I’ll have to make do with an old shinobi chakra-hack...” Kakashi made a single shadow clone, causing the original to sway unsteadily on his feet. “Kakashi-sensei!” Sakura chided, finishing her bowl of dessert and moving to his aid.  His obvious fatigue seemed to be having a sympathetic effect on her, she noticed, as she nearly stumbled in her rush to assist.  “You’re pushing yourself too hard!  You’ll run out of chakra if you keep on like this!” “Sakura’s right, sensei,” Sasuke opined, then yawned as he set down his empty bowl.  “A shadow clone will only drain you further.” “Unless the shadow clone does my sleeping for me,” Kakashi countered, as his doppleganger crawled into his cot.  “When I return, I dismiss the clone, and all its acquired rest will transfer to me.  But this is not a technique to use lightly, as there are certain....side-effects.  But desperate times call for desperate measures....” “What are the....” Naruto paused to yawn extravagantly, “...side-effects?” “Shadow clones can’t dream,” Kakashi answered, as he began to collect the bowls, and returned them to the tray. “So?” Naruto countered, as he wearily watched his teacher replace the lid over the dirty dishes.  His eyelids had suddenly become so heavy.... “So,” Pakkun picked up, after realizing that he wasn’t even going to be permitted the courtesy of licking the bowls clean, “A shinobi who cheats sleep like this too many times will go insane.  All living beings need to sleep and dream on a regular basis for a healthy mind.” Sasuke lowered his strangely heavy head in aknowledgement of the facts.  He’d seen his older brother, Itachi, employ this little-spoken of technique before.  It was like playing a game of chicken with one’s sanity.  It had probably contributed to his odd behavior...in the end.  He shuddered, as he pulled his blankets closer and reclined on his cot. “Your clone doesn’t waste time....” the Uchiha commented, over the sound of the Kakashi-clone snoring. “Unlike its creator,” lilted a gentle voice from the tent-flap.  Kurenai-sensei.  “Hiruzen-sama sent me to check in on you, Kakashi-san.”  Her crimson eyes flicked briefly over to his sleeping replica, understanding all too well the implications, then back to him.  “But if you’re in such a dire need of rest, the Hokage will understand, and forgive your absence,” turning to go. “No!” Kakashi protested, perhaps a little too forcefully.  Kurenai stopped in her tracks.  “I am going to this party...” shoving himself away from the dresser, “...and so is Pakkun.” “What?!” the dour pug reacted, pulling away from the covered platter he had become somewhat obsessed about. “I need your sharp nose, old friend,” Kakashi informed, picking him up.  “And you deserve an introduction to Miriyume-sama...” “The Lady Ice Flame?” the ninken clarified.  He’d never been one for attending large gatherings of humans.  They were always so noisy and crowded.  And the smells could get nauseating.  But seeing this Miriyume finally....face-to-face, would certainly make it worth all the ill-ease he would assuredly suffer. “Lucky dog....” Sakura complained weakly, as she slowly collapsed onto her cot.  “...Gets to....go to the...party....” Her voice tapered off like a spent wind-up doll recording, as Naruto and Sasuke unconsciously maintained their competitive natures by trying to out-snore each other. Kurenai was noticeably impressed, openly marveling at the sleeping genin. “My three are still wide awake!  How did you manage this?” Kurenai demanded. “Oh, just a sneaky, Shimogakuran childhood sleep-inducer....” Kakashi replied cryptically, as he doused the light and exited the tent. “So that’s why I didn’t get a bowl of ice-cream....” Pakkun finally factored.  “I thought you forgot about me...” “Never!” Kakashi scolded lightly, giving his best canine friend one of the dog biscuits he always seemed to have on hand.  “And there should be plenty of food at this party, too, if Shimogakurans are in charge.” “Oh, they are,” Kurenai vouched, as she led them to the party.  “Singing, dancing, gaming, and the drinks are flowing like rivers in hurricane season.” “Just like when I first met her,” Kakashi smiled at the memory. Kurenai smiled too.  This was a side of Kakashi that was rarely seen.  In fact, the last time she’d seen it was with his awkward little-boy crush on his sensei’s girlfriend, and eventual wife, Kushina. “You missed the most beautiful Father-Daughter toast,” Kurenai continued.  “The Shimokhan can be a surprisingly eloquent man when he wants to.  He even had the Hokage in tears.” “Its just as well that I wasn’t there.  I couldn’t in good conscious raise a cup in salute to this...arrangement,” Kakashi’s light mood swung to such an immediate darkness that Kurenai flinched in response. “Lord Hiruzen and I are aware of your objection to this marriage, and it didn’t require our mind-reading skills to learn of it, either,” Kurenai whispered.  “And you are not alone in your disapproval. Tonight’s dinner has convinced me that this is a bad match.  My students have also uncovered some....interesting things.” Kakashi’s tired eyes went wide, and he riveted his attention to his colleague. “So you remember what happened at dinner?” “Following some brief confusion, yes.  I managed to sort it all out.  Asaito doesn’t use genjutsu.  At least, not the type that I’m used to.  He seems to manipulate things that go deeper than thoughts.  Something closer to instincts....” “This man is exceedingly dangerous, then,” Pakkun announced.  “Like it or not, you humans are still ultimately motivated by your primal instincts, and no amount of higher intellect can completely smother them.” “Pakkun is right,” Kurenai easily ceded.  “Asaito has a frightening ability to silence the thinking mind through his ‘minor’ dojutsu, and....there’s more....” she tapered off, looking uncomfortable. Kakashi stopped in his tracks, and forced her to do the same with a hand on her shoulder.  They were midway to their destination. “More....?” he prompted. “There is an utter....coldness to Lord Asaito.  Emotionally speaking.  Despite his outward passion and poetic words, there are no real feelings behind anything.  I’ve been around stoic types all my life, Kakashi-san,” giving him a pointed look, “....and despite your aloof manners and flippant attitudes, there is always some underlying, emotional core.  Asaito has nothing,” she shivered.  “Its utterly alien to me.  To humanity.” “So, what are you saying, exactly?” Kakashi pressed. “That this Tsuroyuni Clan seems to produce men of an exceptionally strange quality, and that the Lady Ice Flame may be in for far more that she had bargained for.  Hinata has told me something particularly disturbing.  A member of the Hyuga Clan was recently petitioned by Tsuroyuni for marriage, about five months ago.  Hiashi-sama forbade it immediately, for reasons unknown.  And don’t even get me started on that monk...” They took a moment to watch the silhouettes of the vivacious revelers projected on the drinking yurt’s walls, as they capered across the illuminated folds of rough silk, twenty feet in front of them.  The incongruence between the jubilant scene and their growing sense of dread was stark. “I like her too, Kakashi-san,” Kurenai continued, “Probably not the same way you do,” she gave him a playful nudge, “But we must remember our duty as shinobi.  Konoha’s, and the Hokage’s honor depends on this.” Kakashi emitted a bitter sounding chuckle.  “Duty....honor....  These are hardly new concepts to me.” Too late, Kurenai realized the nerve she’d struck. “Kakashi-san....I didn’t mean—“ ”Let’s go,” the stoic’s stoic cut off her apology, “Its time to pour some whiskey for the Hokage...” and led the way into the yurt. Renara was relieved to be back in the company of her husband’s clan and countrymen...and the hundred-plus who were also celebrating her daughter’s marriage.  She usually shied away from these boisterous affairs, but tonight she welcomed the drunken antics and the wild celebration.  Anything to forget about that arrogant man, and the predatory gleam in his burgundy eyes whenever he looked at Miriyume. She’d tried to talk her daughter out of this, as had Ryuumaru.  Even Matsuko had expressed reservations.  But Miriyume was adamant. Perhaps if Ryuuyuki were still here, he could have talked some sense into her... The Heron Sage-Priestess sighed, as she continued to work on the embroidery for the wedding dress.  Miriyume had always been the wilder one, even before that storm kami had adopted her.  She blamed the Yaseiarashi side. “Are you in need of a drink, Renara-sama?” Hiruzen asked over the latest atonal chorus of a Shimogakuran drinking song.   “As long as its tea, yes,” she replied.  “I drank my cup of winter whiskey for my husband’s toast, and one a day is still more than enough for my constitution.  Even thirty years of marriage to a Shimogakuran cannot change this.”  She glanced over at her husband, who was dominating the Chakra-Flow arm-wrestling tourney....as ususal.  The long string of people who had lost to him never held any grudges, though, since his generosity in victory left them all with replenished chakra. Hiruzen took a seat beside her, and poured her a cup of green tea from the pot nearby. “Ryuu-kun would never seek to change your ways,” the Hokage continued.  “He has always valued your self control and your sharp mind.  He has said that it makes up for what he generally lacks.” Renara set aside the sewing, and motioned the bartender for another cup.  She then poured her old friend some of her tea. “There are times when its so hard to be the steady voice of reason,” she admitted softly, as she directed their gaze to her daughter, who was caught up in a rather wild card game at another table.  “Like now.”  Her hand trembled with the weight of the teapot. Hiruzen’s sharp sensor abilities quickly picked up on the priestess’s unease, threatening to compromise the levee of her renowned forbearance. “She is so reckless, Hiruzen-kun, with only a pair of doting underclassmen, some fuinjutsu, and a moody, transient kami to keep her in check....” Sarutobi placed a comforting hand on her shaking shoulder.  “Renara-sama....” “...and its been working so far, but I live in dread of the day when she leaps fearlessly into the breech, and even the Sage of the Six Paths can’t reel her back in.”  She capped the confession with a forced chuckle and smile.  “Is tomorrow that day?”  Her soft voice, like the whisper of a dove, nearly broke Hiruzen’s heart.  She had lost her son.  Now, she feared the loss of the daughter.

“As long as I live and breathe, Renara-sama, you will NEVER lose your daughter,” the Hokage vowed solemnly.  “My Will of Fire has always extended to your family, and always shall.”

“And the Unity of Frost forever embraces you, my dear friend,” Renara returned, as she regained her usual regal composure.  “Speaking of unity...”

Hiruzen tracked her eyes over his shoulder, and saw his Leaf jonin. “I was beginning to think that I’d been abandoned,” Hiruzen announced sternly, “But when I remembered what charming company I’d found, I stopped caring,” flirtatiously turning back to the priestess. “Do forgive us, Hokage-sama,” Kurenai returned with a bow for Sarutobi and the Heron Sage, “...Renara-sama.  The genin were all wound-up.” “A little whiskey in warm milk does wonders at bedtime,” Renara offered, as she resumed her embroidery.  “Until they start drinking it on their own...” “I don’t even want to think about Naruto drinking whiskey right now,” Kakashi returned.  “His ramen habit is already too much,” as Kurenai took a seat beside Hiruzen. “Naruto....Uzumaki....?” the sage priestess queried.  “As in the child of Kushina Uzumaki...?” “Yes,” Kakashi returned.  “He’s my student.  You know of him?” “Kushina was my Father’s cousin,” Renara enlightened.  “We are related.” Kakashi turned a flabbergasted eye on Hiruzen.  What other bombs had this man failed to drop on him?!? “It’s a distant relation,” the Hokage defended.  “One I felt was hardly worth mentioning...” “Ugh, another useless card!” Miriyume’s voice suddenly exclaimed in obvious frustration from a large nearby table, as the rest of the card players laughed at her.  “Who shuffled this mess of a deck, dattebizu?!?” “Then again...” Hiruzen amended. “I thought we’d rid her of that word awhile back....” Renara shook her head in amused reproach.  “So childish sounding.” “What are they playing over there?” Kurenai asked, as an attentive bartender handed her a drink of whiskey. “That would be the ‘Bitter Harvest’ table,” the barman answered, handing Kakashi a cup,  “Its based on the cruelties of being a farmer in a country known for its short growing season.” “You made a game out of this?” Kakashi queried, as Pakkun sniffed the contents of the drinking dish, and quickly pulled his crinkled nose away. “A certain level of masochism has crept into our national identity, I guess you could say....” he smiled, before moving onto another group of drinkers. Kakashi set Pakkun on the stool beside Kurenai, and raised his dish in Miriyume’s direction.  “To the righteous struggle,” he toasted from afar.  “May we be ever vigilant,” then drank the vow.  Kurenai did likewise. Renara smiled in quiet sanction of the masked jonin’s obvious feelings for her daughter.  She took comfort in all the eyes that watched over Miriyume.  But this one’s spoke of a stronger conviction then most. She looked to Miriyume, who had just registered Kakashi’s presence, and saw the unmistakable spark.  The one that indicated a powerful resonance between souls.  She could easily sense their chakra natures reaching out toward each other, despite the commotion that engulfed them.  Their affinities craving union in the same manner as magnetic fields.  Just like they had at dinner.  This was why Miriyume’s spiritual core was so haywire, or rather, more haywire than usual. Of all the times to have them cross paths again, why now? Only the God Sage knew...

“Plum Harvest!” Matsuko suddenly bellowed out, as he threw down his hand of cards, sending everyone at the table into panicked action. Kunai knives were thrown at a lone shuriken at the center of the table, hanafuda cards went flying, drinks were spilt, all amidst shrieks and laughter. “The pile’s mine, Earthquake!” Gekido insisted. “What pile?” Hyozen asked, indicating the scattered cards.  “You sent it all flying again!” “This always happens with you!” another Frost kunoichi censured the Inuzuka.  “You get so intense!” “I can’t help it!” Gekido was doing a poor job of acting powerless, “I’m just freaky-fast like that!” “You got the freaky part right,” Matsuko laughed, as he refilled people’s drinks. “We’re going to make you play with chopsticks from now on...” another shinobi warned, as he gathered the scattered cards. “And he’ll still win every round,” Miriyume came to the defense of her fleet-fingered team mate, patting his striped cheek softly.  “C’mon, Gek-kun, let’s give the table a chance....” As she nudged him toward the bar counter, the boisterous crowd parted for their beloved kunoichi.  Faces lifted to offer her bright smiles.  Cups and bottles raised at her passage.  Hands moved to touch her silken kimono sleeves, and musicians sharpened their art at her approach.  It was all too easy to see the pride and affection her village had for her. So why had she taken to wandering the world, Kakashi wondered. As Miriyume passed her mother, Renara caught hold of her by the shoulder. “Come here, child,” the Heron Priestess ordered, and laid the embroidery against her back, apparently taking some tailoring measurement. “Mother, haven’t you made enough layers to mummify me with tomorrow?  I won’t be able to move in this dress...let alone marry!” “A mother’s final gift to her daughter is her wedding kimono,” Renara censured.  “You will not deny me!” Miriyume groaned in resignation, looking at the Hokage with a weary expression.  “Greetings, Hokage-sama.  Can you believe this woman?” as Renara began to adjust the ornaments in her mussed coif. “With every fiber of my being, Miri-chan,” Hiruzen answered, amused at her plight. Ice Flame shifted her blue-green eyes to Kurenai and Kakashi.  “Help me,” she pleaded weakly. Kurenai laughed before answering: “When true danger exists, I promise I’ll assist without a moment’s hesitation.  But now is not that time, right Kakashi-san–?” She turned to cue the other jonin, but found him caught up in a strange four-way stare down consisting of himself, Pakkun, Gekido, and Aoseishin.  The Inuzuka was openly scowling. “What’s the matter?” Kakashi broke the tense silence, “Is there a cap limit on ninken?” “Who the heck is this?!” Gekido demanded, leaning in closer to inspect the small forehead protector tied behind the pug’s ears. Aoseishin gave a small bark in support of the question. “My name is Pakkun,” the pug answered, sending both man and dog reeling back to a more respectable distance.  “I am Kakashi-san’s ninken.” “You–“ Gekido was in Kakashi’s face now, “–have a ninken?!  That speaks!?” Aoseishin seemed to be conducting a similar interrogation with his nose on the pug. “Is this a crime?” Kakashi chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest. “No!” the Inuzuka retorted.  “Just...unexpected!  Where was he earlier?” “Napping in the sun on Senkaori Island,” Pakkun answered in Kakashi’s stead, referring to the famed island of dogs.  “Now...who are you, exactly?” Aoseishin answered for them both with a couple of barks. “From the Northern Inuzuka, huh?” Pakkun repeated, studying Gekido’s notched fang stripes.  “I wasn’t aware that their clan had ventured that far abroad.” “I believe that they migrated in the wake of that man’s short stint at the Temple of Fire,” Hiruzen provided, indicating the Shimokhan.  “Along with a certain Sage Priestess errant,” glancing toward Renara.  “I’ve often compared him to a beacon of unyielding light with the power to draw the noblest hearts.” “Or an occasional inferno that threatens to melt the permafrost....” Renara added impishly, as she continued to fuss over Miriyume’s yukata. “So...you summon him?” Gekido was still fixated on Pakkun. “Yes,” Kakashi answered dismissively, as he watched Renara untie Miriyume’s obi. “He’s so tiny!” Gekido finally snapped and snatched up the alarmed pug, grinning like an overexcited kid.  “What are his strengths?” “Sass and insults, you ridiculous man!” Pakkun returned angrily, as he struggled against Gekido’s tight nose-to-nose hold.  “Have you no shame?!” “Not that we’ve been able to find, no,” Miriyume quipped, before grunting in obvious discomfort as her mother tightened the obi under her bustline with a sharp tug.  “Ugh....can’t....breathe....” she groaned dramatically, as she clutched at Hiruzen’s shoulder.  “I think Mother is trying to tourniquet my stomach....” The Hokage blushed at the sudden proximity of Miriyume’s impressive cleavage, now threatening to overcome its confines with every heaving breath she was dragging into her constricted lungs, and averted his eyes. “Or, more likely, Renara-sama is showing concern for her....precious daughter,” Sarutobi offered, biting his lip in self chastisement. Kurenai had to laugh at his ethical plight.  Kakashi was just agog, showing a strange lack of concern for his clearly annoyed ninken. “Unhand me already, you whiskey-steeped lout!” Pakkun barked at the besotted Inuzuka’s affections,  “Your breath is going to make me intoxicated!  Kakashi!  A little help!  Please?” Kakashi turned back toward the overly enamoured Inuzuka, and extended his hand in the manner of a parent silently demanding the relinquish of an ill-gotten toy.  Gekido capitulated with an awkward apology: “Sorry.  I got a little carried away there,” he admitted with a sheepish teheparo gesture. “I never got to see any of the smaller dog breeds up in Shimogakure....” “Understood, Gekido-san,” Kakashi forgave easily.  “Pakkun is dangerously adorable,” scratching him behind his floppy ear. “Much to my eternal sorrow,” Pakkun added, from the safety of Kakashi’s shoulder, as a fleeting wisp of scent caught his attention. Somewhere beneath the malty aroma of the abundant whiskey, and the alluring, earthy-honey smell of an amber perfume, there was a very distinct and telling fragrance on the buxom ginger in the midnight blue yukata beside the Hokage.  He figured Kakashi should know: “It would seem that Kakashi-san is not the only one who is capable of summoning jutsu,” the pug announced, looking directly at Miriyume.  “I can smell the contract you have with a denizen of the Cat Fortress, bosomy lady.” “Pakkun!” Kakashi scolded sharply, as his exposed cheek went scarlet.  Gekido collapsed against the bar in whiskey-fueled laughter. “Do you now?” Miriyume countered coyly, as her mind raced for a way to cover her ninneko’s careless tracks.  She really didn’t want to involve ‘him’ in this mess, but, this little ninken had called her out.... She reached into her brasserie, under her left breast, against her heart, to a place that she reserved for her most prized possession, and produced a cobalt summoning scroll ornamented in gold. Kakashi’s mask conveniently hid his slack jaw, and the trickle of blood from his nostrils. Miriyume held the scroll up to the pug’s nose for inspection.  “Would you like an introduction?” Within the envelope of the woman’s heady, earthy musk, Pakkun’s nose easily found the scent of ‘cat’, but not ‘that cat’.  He was still intrigued. Hiruzen chuckled, as he sipped his tea.  “Go on, Miriyume-chan.  I’d enjoy seeing the ‘noble exile’ again...” Miriyume complied by unfurling the scroll, pricking her finger with a senbon hair ornament, pressing the small wound to the scroll surface, then slapping her hand against the nearby counter top and yelling: “Cold Majesty Summoning!” Following a burst of rolling fog that provided a moment of crisp, cool air, a mighty roar caused all but Renara, Hiruzen and Miriyume to jump away from the bar.  When the mist dissipated, there stood a large, regal white tiger upon the rough-hewn oak. “A tiger-lord?!” Pakkun openly marveled from his perch on Kakashi’s shoulder. “That I am, little ninken,” the immense feline acknowledged in a deep, rumbling voice with an imperious lilt, as he reclined on the bar top, and turned his icy-blue eyes to his summoner.  “To what do I owe this summons, my lady?” “No good reason, Tosho-sama,” Miriyume smiled, as she put an arm over his burly neck, and began to massage one of his ears, which he seemed deeply appreciative of.

Pakkun was impressed.  Ninneko were elusive enough, but the Great Cat Lords were nearly impossible to track down, much less sign into a contract with. “Who is this woman who has made a contract with such a distinguished beast lord?” Pakkun quietly asked his master. “That, my impudent friend, is Miriyume,” Kakashi replied with a wink.  “...and your assignment for the rest of the night.” “Assignment?” the pug echoed. “I need to get some sleep tonight, so I’m putting you on guard duty, until morning,” Kakashi whispered, as they watched her introduce the tiger to Kurenai. “So...this is the kunoichi you found all those years ago in the Land of Frost?” Pakkun connected.  “The one that....” “She is,” the silver-haired jonin cut off, clearly pained by the memories of that day.  “It wasn’t her death that the village was mourning.  It was her brother’s.” “So why didn’t they tell us that?” “Because of their customs,” Kakashi explained.  “I’ll explain it all later, but right now, the important thing is to keep track of her at all times.  Understand?  Asaito’s already tried to corner her once.  I don’t want it happening again.” “Understood,” Pakkun returned glumly, as he watched Miriyume and the grabby Inuzuka salute each other with more of that nose-burning whiskey, drinking it as easily as ice water on a hot day.  “But...she looks like trouble.” “I know....” Kakashi murmured ardently.  “My favorite kind of trouble.”

“Rajin isn’t pleased, Persimmon-chan,” Tosho rumbled in his softest voice, using the moniker his original contract holder had labeled her with.  He was the only one she allowed to use that name. “What’s news-worthy about that?” Miriyume scoffed, as she replaced his summoning scroll in her bra. “Neither am I,” the tiger huffed.  “I made a vow, Miriyume-san, and I intend on keeping it.” “Glad to hear it, Stripes,” Miriyume returned, as she scratched the spot under his chin that his massive paw could never seem to reach, “....because tomorrow’s the big day.” “Forgive me if the fact fails to evoke the proper sense of jubilation on my part...” Prince Tosho grumbled, as he turned his glacial-hued eyes toward the approaching half-blindfolded man carrying the pygmy-sized ninken. “Your offering is appreciated, shinobi of the Hidden Leaf,” the great cat greeted, “But I don’t partake of the flesh of canines.  Moro-sama would never forgive me for eating any of her kin, no matter how....distant.” Kakashi blinked in confused shock, while Pakkun curled up tighter against his chest in horror. “That’s not why I–“ Kakashi began, before Miriyume cuffed the haughty tiger on his ear. “And that’s why I hardly ever call on you anymore!” Ice Flame scolded the 800-pound creature in the same manner she would a common house cat. “I’m sorry,” Miriyume turned back to Kakashi.  “That’s what passes for humor with this overgrown tabby!  He’s actually pretty good company, most of the time.  And an excellent shoji player...” “If only the same could be said for even a fraction of those you call friends....” the tiger continued. “Even if he is a snob!” Miriyume shot back, prompting the tiger to seek other company. “He’s harmless, I promise,” the kunoichi assured, and motioned them closer.  “But he makes me admire the straightforwardness of ninken.  Can I hold him?” referring to Pakkun. Kakashi handed him over, and watched as she placed him on her lap.  Her pale, supple fingers set to immediate work on his folded ears, turning him to instant putty in her hands. “Now, that doesn’t happen too often,” Kakashi informed, as he watched the pug roll over onto his belly with a small pang of envy.  “You must have a way with animals.” “My chakra run-off charms most living things,” she returned, as she began to massage the pug’s paw-pads, which Pakkun had always been rather stingy with.  “Its convincing them to stick around that’s the hard part.” Kakashi heard the note of lament in the casual admission. Was that what had prompted her to accept the proposal of this repugnant man?  A fear of eventual abandonment?  Despite all evidence to the contrary? Kakashi staged a silent aknowledgement of the crowd for the kunoichi holding Pakkun, before stating his case: “Is this small swarm being held against their will...?” She paused in her dog snuggling to give him a measured glare.  “It’s a documented fact that most people tire of me.  Even kidnappers.” “Well,” wedging himself between Miriyume and Aoseishin, who was sitting on the stool beside her, as Gekido sang with a group of musicians on the bar, “...I’m not going anywhere, now that I’ve finally found you again,” Kakashi assured. In that moment, Miriyume felt her swiftly crumbling guard completely slip, and her dojutsu activate.  All faded to silence as past, present and future melded abruptly into one reality, and it prominently featured this enigmatic man seated beside her.  His candid promise echoed across Time and Space itself, as she felt his perfectly complementary essence take firm anchor in her own.   The true power of the Renkingen was to explore all possibilities of various fusions, and to instantly understand the consequences.  Her intuitive eyes had just shown her that this man was everything she needed to realize perfect happiness, in both the mortal and spiritual sense. <How dare you come to me now, when circumstance forbids me to grab hold of you and demand you to stay!> she screamed inwardly, as the man beside her regarded her curiously with his lone eye.   In him alone, she saw all the pieces of the masculine soul that she had always yearned to find in a mate: her first teacher’s wisdom, her father’s strength, her team mates’ compassion, Raijin’s stoic ardor and grace, her brother’s devotion and genius, all wrapped up in one irksome masked gift pack... Her mind also told her about how ridiculously dangerous it would be to have it known that she felt this way.  Dangerous for both her quickly pending marriage, and Kakashi himself.  Asaito was a proud man, and prone to what had been once charitably described as “deranged fits of vengeful pique”.  

And in classic Yaseiarashi fashion, fear only bloomed in her heart when those she loved were at incredible risk.  The thought of him at Asaito’s non-existent mercy could put her in a perilously awkward bind.  No. Asaito’s focus had to remain on her... But that other Yaseiarashi trait....about never denying her true feelings; most importantly, love, was causing an internal war within her.  The fate of international relations was at stake here, along with her sanity.

[ladyiceflame-blog]

An Inconvenient Wedding:

Chapter Twelve: Tsukimi in Spring

“Thus concludes our Supper of the First Meeting,” Wakame announced, as the gong was rung again, and the wait staff stood poised to tear down and clean. Renara stood, prompting the rest to do the same.  “May the blessings of health, longevity, and righteous prosperity be upon you all,” she intoned with a reverent bow. “And upon yourself as well, Renara-sama,” the Hokage returned. “And let’s keep these blessings flowing at the Light House!” Ryuumaru added, motioning all toward the parted curtains that led outside. “Just remember to save some whiskey for us!” Gekido called out, as a less formal dinner was being set before him and the other honor guards.  “I hate to rush through supper, but the Yaseiarashi’s don’t leave me any choice!” giving Miriyume a condemning glare. “They do tend to absorb alcohol as well as chakra...” Hiruzen laughed, as he watched Renara and Ryuumaru exit, and immediately get caught up into the waiting throng outside.  “I shall do my best to slow their intake until you arrive.” “The Will of Fire possesses such a remarkably futile sense of optimism at times,” Oda commented, as he moved to stand by his lord’s side.   Kakashi was really fighting an urge to discus a plate at the repugnant man’s scrawny throat... “...One would find more success in teaching an Uchiha to be a pacifist,” the monk finished, smugly. “Oh, we’re trying that, too,” Kakashi returned, as he took the Hokage’s vacated seat, and was immediately served a bowl of leek soup, a plate of duck and mushrooms, and a pot of tea. Hiruzen patted the sterling-haired jonin on the shoulder, smiling proudly.  “Be sure to join me at the party after your dinner, both of you,” he instructed his shinobi. “I can accompany you now if you–“ Kakashi replied, before his stomach growled in loud protest of skipping yet another meal. “I believe you’d better feed yourself first, Kakashi-san,” Kurenai laughed, as she helped herself to the succulent duck and mushrooms.  Luck exists in the leftovers, after all.” “Please eat,” Miriyume pleaded.  “Our friends in Kumogakure worked so hard to create this wonderful meal for us, and my parents and I will make sure Sarutobi-sama doesn’t get into too much trouble...” giving the Hokage a playful nudge. “Listen to the girl,” Hiruzen instructed, “She is the boss, after all,” and made his exit. Miriyume intended to follow right behind, after giving her team mates a playful wink, until Asaito called out to her, stopping her on the threshold: “May I have a moment?” The surprised storm sage-priestess turned to face the statuesque man, stretching her lacquered lips into a disingenuous smile.  “Have you changed your mind about the party?” “No, my lady,” giving a small nod of apology.  “I merely wish to speak with you a moment....privately.” Oda and the Koryomizu guards took their master’s hint to leave, and exited the way they had entered, leaving their food untouched. “Hey!” Gekido called out, obviously offended.  “Is the food not good enough for your shinobi?” “They have other duties to attend to, and there is food enough in our own encampment.  They will not starve, I assure you,” Asaito smiled back, as he approached Miriyume.  His eyes openly registered a building energy as he got closer to the sage-priestess.  Like embers coaxing back to fiery life. Kakashi had noted that Miriyume’s overflow chakra tended to quicken the vitality of anyone caught in its wake, and many actively sought to bask in her spiritual surplus.  But Asaito’s method of ‘basking’ seemed a little different from the rest.  It seemed....unwholesome. “There is a lovely moon out tonight,” the Byronesque bridegroom continued, taking her unsuspecting hand, and pressing it briefly to his smiling lips.  “Let us view it together...” “Hold up, lover-boy,” one of her parents’ personal guards was the first to verbally balk.  Nobu.  “The Lady Ice Flame is to have an escort at all times, by order of the Shimokhan.” “And she will,” Asaito returned.  “Myself, in fact,” as he gave both Nobu and Hyozan a pointed look that left them both oddly pacified.  Both guards settled back into their meals without another word of dissent! Kakashi gave Kurenai a concerned look as Gekido and Matsuko both stood in immediate protest. “Not so fast, Lord Tsuroyuni,” Matsuko rumbled.  “A Shimogakuran bride is expressly forbidden from being left alone with her intended, until after the ceremony.” Aoseishin barked in support. “You wouldn’t want to violate one of our most sacred marriage traditions, would you...?” the Inuzuka pressed, overloading the question. “I most certainly would not,” Asaito answered, as he turned his strange eyes on the two men, “But, how else am I to get to know my bride before our wedding?  Our courtship was on paper.  I don’t want to marry a complete stranger.  So, please, let us briefly dispense with suffocating tradition...just for a moment.  You, of all people, I figured would sympathize....” Miriyume watched in shocked disbelief as Matsuko, Gekido, and even Aoseishin sat back down and resumed eating without further argument. “Um...perhaps Mat-kun had a point–“ Miriyume tried to pull away from Asaito, clearly unnerved by this sudden cowing of her most trusted companions.  Tsuroyuni refused to relinquish her hand, and pulled her closer: “Just a few moments, my love,” looking directly into her eyes.  “Is it too much to ask?” “I...suppose not....” the sage-priestess capitulated. Kakashi could sense her iron-like resolve melting like sugar in hot water, and he silently signaled his alarm and intent to Kurenai by lifting the blind from his Sharingan.   “I must protest, Lord Tsuroyuni,” Kakashi announced, standing up and turning.  “As a representative of your host country, and an ally of the Shimokhan, I am certain that the Hokage would also insist on an escort.” “Please do not take our devotion to duty as an insult, Tsuroyuni-sama,” Kurenai added, also standing, and stepping beside Miriyume, who was looking rather dazed.  “We only wish to ensure the proper protocol for such an important event.” “Your concern for my marriage is comforting...and rather touching,” Asaito purred back, catching Kurenai’s crimson eyes in his own.   Kakashi smirked beneath his mask.  Kurenai Yuhi could neatly shred through any attempt at genjutsu... “I am, and will forever remain, deeply appreciative of all your efforts,” Asaito continued, leaning in so close to Kurenai as to cause her cheeks to flush red.  He then ushered her back to her seat without a hint of further protest from her.  Kurenai’s face had gained the same passivity of the others! Never had Kakashi seen his fellow jonin so mentally subdued before!  He’d easily read the alarm in her eyes mere seconds ago.  All of that had suddenly evaporated.  As if erased. He stepped protectively in front of Miriyume, blocking Asaito’s attempt to reclaim her clearly entranced hand.  “What kind of genjutsu is this?!” he demanded angrily. Asaito gave a soft, cruel chuckle.  The kind of laugh that pure sadists employed.  “Its not genjutsu, Kakashi of the Sharingan.  My eyes play on deeper things than a person’s intellect.” “They won’t play on me so easily,” Hatake warned, screwing his right eye shut, and shifting all focus to his left. “Hmmm....” Asaito offered an amused smile as he regarded the spiraling tomoe in the red iride, “I suppose not.”  He then lashed out with a sudden palm-slam to Kakashi’s solar plexus, causing him to collapse in a gasping heap. He then caught up the Lady Ice Flame’s hand, and gently led her out into the night.  Kakashi caught her eyes briefly as she was towed along: utter bafflement, fighting to make sense of what was happening around her. As he struggled to regain his breath, he regarded the other body guards as they ate in stony silence.  There was no sign of further concern, and no hint of disruptive chakra. Deeper than mere intellect?  What was Asaito alluding to? Whatever it was, it had enough power to instantly quell Miriyume’s team mate’s concerns, and that was unnerving.  Especially concerning their general opinions of this man. He was going to need all the chakra he had left, and this ruse had served its purpose, the shadow clone decided, before disappearing in a puff of smoke. –This isn’t right...— Miriyume inwardly scolded herself, as Asaito led her along a wooded path, toward a small hillock crowned with a copse of cherry trees. ***Neither is your mind!  Who made this mess in here?!!*** demanded a familiar, internal voice, whose nigh-constant reprimand had lost most of its sting to her long ago. –I’m supposed to be elsewhere...where are Mat-kun and Gek-kun...?-- ***Damned if I know!  You put me in an awkward place, Stormling.  I can only shout at you, until you formally summon me!  Never again will I agree to this!*** She glanced around in mild panic, in an attempt to regain some bearings.  It was as if she were inside one of those kitschy snow-globes, with the scrambled bits of the last few moments swirling about her.  Tattered sequences of memory, needing to be re-spliced. Her heart felt as if it were breaking, and yet, here was this man...Asaito, leading her through these beautiful trees, to a vista that never failed to lift her spirits: the night sky. They stopped at the crest of the hill, overlooking the lake.  The moon was only a sliver off of being full, and the calm water mirrored it perfectly.  Its echoed grandeur instantly captivated her senjutsu-using soul, and she released Asaito’s hand to better absorb the chakra of heaven and earth simultaneously.  The brief meditative act sharpened her grasp on the moment. The voice in her head gave a deep sigh of relief. ***You play dangerous games, Stormling.  Don’t let them play you back.*** Miriyume smiled.  He was a petulant, spiteful, and wayward kind of kami, but he had never let her down yet.  –I’ll see you tomorrow, Raijin-sama.– She then turned back toward Asaito, who had been silently watching her communion with nature. “You know, I have a considerable amount of people waiting for me back there,” she began, nodding toward the Shimogakuran drinking yurt.  The sounds of music and laughter spilling out even at this distance.  “One of them being my Father...who is not a patient man.” “I just wanted a moment or two to talk simply, as man and woman,” he smiled, giving her some distance.  “I tire quickly of pretension.” “Could have fooled me,” Miriyume quipped back.  “Flowery worded poetry...your food tasters...your hermetic tendencies.  I do believe that you’re the first person I’ve ever met who out-does me in ‘Things Macabre’!”  She paused to study him in the moonlight, attempted to glean what she could from appearance alone.  But the rumors were true.  He was unreadable.  Even more so than that multi-masked clone user... “Are you always so cagey?” she continued, as more short-term memories began to right themselves, “...and did you just sucker-punch one of Hiruzen-sama’s shinobi?!?”  The image of Kakashi doubled-up in the dining tent sent a few sparks skittering up her spine. “I suppose that caginess is one of my more glaring faults,” Asaito returned, “And, yes.  I did.  That one has been overstepping his bounds, of late.” “That was no reason to hit him!  My Father hired him to help police this three-ring circus, not suffer a performance review!” “Forgive me,” he lowered his head in atonement.  “My clan has made it a tradition to be overly cautious...and perhaps paranoid.” “And mine has turned recklessness into a high art form,” Miriyume returned, shelving the incident.  Where the hell were her team mates...? “So I’ve heard,” Asaito smiled, almost playfully.   He could be annoyingly compelling... “Have you, now?” Miriyume played along, arching an amber eyebrow.  She had been told that the Tsuroyuni Clan had eerie insight on a staggering amount of people, reaching well beyond the Land of Water’s borders.  “What have you heard?” Kakashi held his breath as he watched from the cover of trees that he’d crept silently into.  All he needed was one hint of discomfort from Miriyume: a cry of help, a sign of struggle, and he’d plant a kunai knife deep into that bastard’s dark heart. His shadow clone jutsu had enabled him to keep four eyes on the dinner party.  His real self had been surreptitiously tailing Miriyume since she’d exited the Bridal Yurt, and had remained in the shadows of her curtained entry.  It had been a testament to his immense skill as a shinobi to avoid detection from the four, as they shared that tiny, dark room together.   Asaito ran a hand through his ebony hair, then gave it a quick toss in classic ‘come hither’ fashion.  “A few things of note,” he teased, moving a little closer.  “Like how your great-grandfather liked to wrestle ice bears for fun...and that your grandmother once kidnaped a princess because she wanted her jade necklace.”  His strange eyes looked pointedly at the string of aqua hued beads at her throat. Miriyume touched them in response, smiling self-consciously.  “Yeah, well, there’s a lot more to that particular story...” “...and your Father, the Shimokhan,” Asaito continued, undaunted.  “Organized a loose rabble of barbaric clans into a civilized, shinobi village...” “Hey! We’re still barbarians, when we want to be,” she corrected, crossing her arms. “...And your brother.  The famed North Wind.  Sage-trained at the personal invitation of Nekomata of the Cat Fortress....the sole known user of Nature’s Fury technique....slayer of the Golden Demon Prince–“ ”Don’t speak of Ryuuyuki, please,” Miriyume cut off, her voice suddenly devoid of any trace of mirth. “I’m...sorry, I only—“ ”Just.  Don’t,” she pleaded angrily, her blue-green eyes were narrowed now, and getting glassy. Was that bastard smiling...?  Kakashi clenched the kunai hilt harder, as Asaito watched Miriyume seemed to suffer a mild twitch between her shoulders, caused by a subtle flicker of sickly colored chakra.  Immediately, so fast in fact that it was difficult to discern even with the benefit of a Sharingan, her aurora-hued chakra rushed in to dissipate the unwholesome looking energy. That pearly tattoo on her back!  It was a fuinjutsu seal of some sort.  She had described it as ‘an insurance policy’... Asaito closed in, taking her hand again.  “What’s the matter, my dear?  You seem...stressed.”  He began to kiss her fingertips. “Well....” somewhat surprised at his sudden ardor, “In my defense, it is the night before my wedding.  And here I am...alone with the groom....” Asaito was slowing kissing up her hand, turning it over to get at the inside of her wrist, pushing back the long sleeve of her yukata to expose her arm. His cool lips working ever upwards both thrilled and scared her.... “....who’s making me feel like a woman in an inma novel...” she nearly moaned in protest. The kisses stopped at the inside of her elbow, and Asaito took her up in a strong embrace. The cool skin of his exposed chest contrasted sharply with the warmth he’d just kindled in hers. “Now, why did you have to say that, my lady?” he asked softly.  There was an odd note in his voice....something akin to hurt, or possibly alarm.  “My clan has long suffered from foul rumors, spread my the jealous, and the vindictive.” A flare of pure rage erupted in Kakashi’s heart as he watched Asaito begin to massage Miriyume’s shoulders, coaxing out the tensions that had been steadily building.  His hands were touching her.  His lips had tasted her skin.  His face was hovering dangerously close to stealing what he had stoically refused... “The Tsuroyuni are slandered because the women we bring into our family are always so splendidly desirable....” he cooed. Miriyume rested her face against his broad chest, in an effort to avoid his eyes.  So cold... “...and splendidly evanescent,” she countered.  “I’ve read up on you too, you know.  All these ‘splendid brides’ seem to have a habit of fading into obscurity.  And, I’ll have you know, I’ve no intentions on doing that.” Asaito gave a her a roguish smile, as he pulled slightly back, trying to catch her eye.  “Well, we are nothing if not overly-attentive husbands, with the fortune and social standing to give our brides anything they want.”  He took her chin in his hand, and tilted her coy face upwards.  “When faced with such promises of paradise, the rest of the world tends to...fade away....” He caught her eyes in his, catching her up in his spell again, and he leaned in for a kiss. His Sharingan widened in horror as he watched Asaito begin to draw in all the ambient chakra of Miriyume.  The dancing curtains of her replenished aurora were sucked into the inky black depths of his strange eyes, twin black holes surrounded by flickering, infernal flame iridae. Miriyume gave a shuddering gasp, as Asaito moved a hand to the back of her head, cradling it against her instinct to back away. “Please, don’t...” Miriyume managed to say, her voice thick with the fatigue of resistance, before the mesmeric eyes spun her senses again. “I just want a small taste of what’s to come....” Asaito persisted, as he closed his eyes, and leaned closer to claim her trembling lips with his own. He was brought to a rude halt by the sensation of cold, polished steel in the place of soft, yielding flesh.  He opened his eyes to see the back of a fingerless gloved hand occupying the space between his and Miriyume’s mouths. “I think its time for Miriyume-sama to be going,” Kakashi announced angrily, as Asaito stepped back from the Leaf jonin’s extended hand.  Kakashi gently patted Miriyume’s spellbound face.  Unresponsive.  He pulled her up protectively against his side, and tried to jostle her out of the strange, trance-like paralysis. Asaito was glaring daggers at the intruder.  Granted, he was daring much by meeting with her alone before the wedding, and perhaps he’d shown too much of his hand, too early in the game, but this jonin was getting on his nerves... Her chakra was exquisite!  Never had he drank in such a heady drought of spiritual essence before.  Except....maybe that one jinchuriki...ages ago... “You again?” Asaito sighed, reeling in his murderous temper.  “Will your stalking ever end?” he lamented dramatically. “So long as the Lady Ice Flame needs protection, no,” Kakashi returned.  “Now, what were you doing just now?” Asaito smiled in wicked amusement.  “Are all Leaf shinobi so unschooled in the arts of amorous interludes?” Kakashi drew a kunai from his leg pouch, twirling it artfully into the prescribed position of martial challenge. “You were pulling chakra out of her....like a leech.  Don’t deny this!” Kakashi warned. “Guilty as charged,” Asaito admitted freely, raising his hands, and leaning casually against a tree trunk.  “Although, your choice of simile is hardly complimentary.” “So you admit your crime?” Kakashi pressed. “Crime?  What crime?” Asaito scoffed.  “Miriyume-sama freely shares her chakra with everyone.  I can’t steal what is given.” “And you can no longer hide that not-so-minor dojutsu from me, Tsuroyuni!” Kakashi riposted.  “You seem to have a remarkable talent for messing with people’s minds.”  He regarded Miriyume a moment, as she began to surface from her latest case of mental scrambling.  She seemed to have some ability to recover faster than most. “And you have an unparalleled talent for pissing me off, Hatake!” Asaito rebutted, suddenly standing much closer. Kakashi pulled Miriyume with him in a retreating lunge, as he channeled a jolt of his lightning chakra into the brandished kunai.   This action had a remarkably sobering effect on Lady Ice Flame, and she snapped back into the present moment. “Where the–“ she began to narrate her quickly surfacing consciousness, “Why–?” regarding Kakashi and Asaito in turn.  “What the hell did I drink tonight?!?” stepping out of Kakashi’s hold.  She swayed slightly, but remained standing. “Miri-chan!” came a shout from the dark.  The strident, slightly frenetic tenor of her Inuzuka team mate.  “What are you doing out here?  The party’s back there!” With a withering glare at his new enemy, Asaito fled the scene before Miriyume’s concerned companions arrived.  Kakashi exchanged his knife for his book, and covered his left eye just as Aoseishin bounded up to the cloudy-minded kunoichi. “There she is,” Matsuko announced, as he and Gekido emerged from the trees.  Both of them exhibited clear signs of anxiety: Matsuko was in a cold sweat.  Gekido had lost the carefree spring in his stride. “We’ve been looking all over for you!” Gekido scolded, putting his face a mere inch from hers.  His sudden proximity made her reel backward, and she landed on her butt in the soft, cool grass.  Aoseishin whined and licked her cheek. “Miri-chan!” Matsuko knelt at her side, held her hand, and scrutinized her fatigued state. Gekido turned his pent up feelings of conflicting emotion on a new target: “What are you doing here, Hata-kami?!” he demanded. Kakashi’s right eye regarded the irate Inuzuka standing before him.  “It’s Hata-ke,” he amended in a tired tone. “Whatever!” Gekido dismissed.  “Why’d you run off with Miri-chan?!” “I think the better question is: ‘Why didn’t you?’...” the Leaf jonin drawled back. “Why didn’t I?!” the Inuzuka echoed belligerently, as his face betrayed mounting confusion.  “I was eating....wasn’t I?!” turning back toward Matsuko, who was still tending to Lady Ice Flame. The swarthy-skinned shinobi shrugged his own uncertainty, and returned his focus to Miriyume. Did they not remember what had happened?  Kakashi studied Matsuko, who was regarding Miriyume with obvious concern, as she adopted a meditative lotus position. Even Aoseishin seemed to be struggling with some form of memory lapse, judging by the way he kept sniffing Miriyume’s shoulders, smelling some unexplainable scent. Gekido’s nostrils were also flaring in cognitive dissonance, sensing Asaito’s presence, but, for some reason, mentally blocking it. “Well!?!” the Inuzuka, in keeping with usual clan fashion, became more threatening when agitated.  “Answer me!” “Miriyume-sama wanted to meditate under the moon, briefly,” Kakashi fabricated quickly, believing that it would be useless to try and explain the truth.  Asaito had covered his tracks too well tonight, leaving him as the sole witness of actual events. Very well.  Challenge accepted. “I accompanied her, to stand guard,” Kakashi smiled, returning to his book, to a page he’d read hundreds of times before. “But we’re her guards,” Gekido persisted, sounding rather dejected.  “Not you.  How did you two manage to sneak off, anyway?” Kakashi blushed a bit at the thought, and smiled at the implications.  It called to mind a certain bride-stealing moment in one of these Icha-Icha novels....  Keep it clean: “I’m a lot faster than I look,” he replied, flipping a page. “You three were eating,” Miriyume added, as Matsuko assisted her stand.  “Kakashi-san volunteered to keep me company while I waited for you to finish.” Her voice had regained its customary lilt.  The one that seemed to forever skate on the razor’s edge between charm and castigation.  Fire and frost.  Kakashi pulled his forehead protector up just enough to check on her ambient chakra level.  Nearly fully recovered!  Whatever Asaito had taken would quickly replenished.  Her chakra refractory was astonishing!  Already, ribbons of her personal aurora were weaving about her companions, easing their tensions.  Was it her sage talents that helped, or her priestess abilities...? “But, now that you’re here...” She laced her fingers into Gekido’s hand, and pulled both her human team mates in the direction of the yurt-bar, as Kakashi recovered his Sharingan.   “You’re coming with us, Hata-kun?” Miriyume asked, over her alabaster shoulder. That sidelong glance again.  The one that brought time and space to a standstill.

It also told him that her memory had not been stolen. And that was the first time she’d used that particular suffix with his name... “Of course,” he answered, closing the book.  “I just need to...check-in on my students, first.” His recon team!  Perhaps they’d found something useful! “Just spike their warm milk with a shot of bourbon....knocks ‘em right out!” Gekido advised, having fully recovered his good mood as the three, plus the ninken, continued back up the forest path. Tempting.

Oda indulged in a small amount of amusement as he entered the Koryomizu Pavillion, letting a soft chuckle escape his withered lips.  Someone was spying on him!  The corpsewood incense had told him that much.  Then he saw the tale-tell signs of disturbance in his genealogy records—minute though they were. He’s expected such an attempt, and had made preparations.  Casting some fresh bundles of another vile, herbal ingredient upon a brazier, he performed the hand jutsu sequence that focused his kekkei genkai: Backward Glance jutsu. As the foul-smelling smoke began to form, he produced a hand fan, and wafted it in the direction of the scroll racks. Pale, ashen ghosts began to take shape.  Eerie afterimages left by whoever had been standing there half an hour earlier. Oda chuckled again, as the smoke revealed the face of a very grim-looking boy, the last of the famed Uchiha Clan.  One of that infuriating jonin’s charges.  It figured.  He had wondered how meddlesome the Land of Fire was going to be in this particular venture.   At first, he had balked at their presence at all.  How did this union concern them?  What was the point?  But the Lady Ice Flame’s father had been insistent.  Something about ‘old ties,’ or some such nonsense.  That barbarian fool had insisted on quite a bit, actually.  The location....the guest list...the food...even the officiating priest!  These were usually the responsibilities of the groom, but the exceedingly proud man was clearly insisting on the very best his vast allegiances could provide for his beloved daughter’s wedding. Asaito had relented to the Shimokhan’s demands easily, factoring that the ‘prize’ would be worth it in the end. But these arrangements had become most tiresome.  He missed the comforting bulk of the castle walls.  He loathed the scent of cherry blossom pollen.  And he hated being surrounded by so many unfamiliar faces who didn’t know their proper place!  Especially that jonin with the snide tongue and the hidden face....Kakashi of the Sharingan! How dare he speak to his Lord so dismissively!  How dare he speak at all during that ridiculous supper!  Without censure!  It seemed that the Land of Fire was as unsophisticated at the Land of Frost when it came to protocol. And there was some kind of annoying connection between that Kakashi and the Lady Ice Flame.  Some...mystical link that Oda could sense, but couldn’t fathom.  Something that ran even deeper than the ties between her and her obnoxious teammates.  Asaito had sensed this as well, and was currently taking measures against it.  Unbeatable measures.  They hadn’t lost a single target-bride yet... Oda sighed, and allowed the smoke to dissipate.  He watched thoughtfully as the gray-tone illusion of Sasuke Uchiha melted away to nothingness.  All of this was starting to give him a headache, but the pay-off would make it all worthwhile.  Her chakra would be feeding their dark hearts for far longer than most. As Oda lay down on his cot, he addressed the vanished image of the genin who had dared to pry into the premises: “It a pity that you were not born a female, lone Uchiha child.  We’ve had our eyes on your tragic clan for quite some time.  Perhaps there’s still a chance, if you were to have a daughter...and we snuffed your suspicious little heart before stealing her away.”

[ladyiceflame-blog]

An Inconvenient Wedding:

Chapter Eleven: Black and Silver

Akamaru couldn’t suppress a soft whine of ill-ease as the six genin closed in on the Tsuroyuni pavilion.  It smelled so....unhealthy. “I hear you, Akamaru,” Kiba sympathized, hugging his ninken closer to his chest, as he rode on the inside of his jacket.  “This place stinks.” Naruto sniffed the air experimentally.  There was a strange incense smell, but he couldn’t factor much beyond that.  But it was definitely creepy.  The main pavilion was made of some black material, which seemed to greedily swallow the lights of the braziers around its perimeter.   “Whoever this Tsuroyuni guy is, he has horrible taste in wedding decor!” Sakura whispered harshly.  “This looks more like a funeral.” Hinata shuddered.  “I...I believe that black is his clan color.  Even his....scrolls are made of black paper.” “Where do you see that?” Kiba asked. “...and how could you write anything on a black scroll?” Naruto demanded. “It was...in my father’s office...at home, Kiba-kun,” Hinata explained to her team mate.  “And the ink was silver....Naruto-kun,” she added, blushing. “The Tsuroyuni clan has long been steeped in matters macabre,” Shino informed. “It means, ‘creepy’, before you ask!” Sakura informed Naruto. “They were one of the founding clans of Kirigakure, and specialize in espionage...and some say, the occult,” Shino continued. “What...do you mean...?” Naruto demanded, sounding a bit rattled. “Oh...you know,” Sasuke smiled cruelly, knowing his team mate’s fear of all things eerie: “...ghosts, zombies, werewolves howling under a full moon....” “We like to howl at the full moon, don’t we, Akamaru?” Kiba smiled.  “Nothing wrong with that...” “I am also guilty of such a thing, but now is not the time,” Pakkun reproached, as they found a thick cluster of trees to hide amongst.  “We need to formulate a plan, based on what we can observe.  Those braziers fill my nose with a ridiculous scent that is obviously meant to confuse a ninken’s smelling ability.  This man already offends me.” “This whole wedding offends me!” Naruto growled back.  “What’s the point if no one even knows each other?” “Arranged marriages can be difficult,” Shino began, sagacious as ever, “...but are sometimes necessary to secure a sense of stability within a family.  Or a country.  The Aburame Clan has occasionally made overtures to families who were deemed worthy.” “How romantic,” Sakura huffed. “We don’t get out much,” Shino excused. “Some...some of my...cousins...were married that way,” Hinata came to the aid of her team mate. “Its something that the noble clans generally concern themselves with,” Sasuke added.  “It normally ends well enough.” “Well, ‘well enough’ will never be good enough for me!” Naruto swore, prompting Hinata to blush yet again. “My...my father...didn’t believe that Asaito-sama was good enough, either,” the shy Hyuga finally shared. “What?” Kiba demanded.  “Did Tsuroyuni propose to you, too?!” “No!” she rebuked, annoyed at the suggestion.  “My cousin....Hibani...” she resumed.  “He...wanted to marry her.  My father refused.” “On what grounds?” Sakura pressed. “He didn’t say,” Hinata admitted quietly.  “But, his refusal was...immediate.” “We have got to find out why,” Sasuke intoned gravely, steeling everyone’s resolve.  “Hinata, can you employ your Byakugan?  My Sharingan can’t see into the main tent.” Hinata focused, and tried to peer past the dark, shadowy material, to no avail. “I can’t see anything, either,” she admitted sadly.  “The cloth seems to be woven of some...strange chakra substance.” “Our noses are worthless here,” Kiba lamented.  “Akamaru and I will keep watch over the main path that leads here from the Frost encampment.” “I’ll guard the northeast, and use my insects to surround the camp,” Shino volunteered, as Hinata finished her scrutiny of the rest of the area. “There are guards in the other tents....and sitting around a fire-pit.  They look like they are eating supper, or sleeping, for the most part.” “Then this is the perfect time to strike,” Sasuke decided.  “When their guard is down.” “And the secrets lie inside that main tent,” Pakkun wagered.  “Team Seven, follow me.  Hinata, keep a sharp eye out here.”

Miriyume looked across to the complete stranger on the other side of the table, and silently wished that she had inherited her mother’s eyes instead.  Renara’s unique dojutsu could effortlessly see into the very core of a person...their inner thoughts, their hopes, their regrets....  It had been impossible to lie to her, growing up.   But Renara’s uncanny insight into a person’s soul had forced her to become somewhat reclusive.  In her words, prolonged exposure to ‘darker souls’ caused her mental, and even physical pain.  In remote Shimogakure, she was safe.  In the larger world beyond, she tended to suffer. Miriyume had noticed how her mother was trying to keep her focus on the Hokage, while her father was conducting most of the expected questions and replies with the groom, and that creepy-as-hell monk.  Renara ate and smiled, but this was clearly paining her. The Hokage seemed to realize this, too, and tried to catch her eye often.  He was such a compassionate man.  Her mother had often alluded to Sarutobi-sama’s soul as a brilliant sunrise: a life-sustaining manifestation of hope that never failed to strengthen those who were caught in its light. <“Just one more course, Mother,” she silently soothed.  “And then you can escape Asaito’s dark aura.”> “So...” Ryuumaru began, as he signaled for his dinner plate to be removed.  “How exactly did my darling little Stormfly catch your attention, Asaito-san?” Asaito looked taken aback.  “Was my poem not clear enough?” “Poem..?” the Shimokhan echoed in confusion. “The hundred and eight-line love poem that accompanied Asaito-sama’s letter of proposal....” Wakame reminded.  “Written on black parchment...in silver ink...?” “Oh, that poem!” Ryuumaru remembered.  “I....never had much of a head for those kind of things....” turning in desperation to his wife.  “Was it a good one?” “It was exquisite,” Miriyume recovered for her father, “In form and language, it ranks alongside the classical works from the Land of Ancestors, of which I am much enamored, but it is  perhaps a bit overly generous on the praise...” “Nonsense!” Asaito retorted sternly, catching Miriyume’s eyes fully within his own.  “In fact, I lament that I only had the clumsy medium of mere words to express how completely you have enchanted me, dear lady.” Despite the menacing tone, the pure ardor kept everyone intrigued.  Or was it his eyes?  Kakashi couldn’t be certain.... “I will never forget the day I first saw you....” Asaito continued, buoyed by everyone’s rapt attention. “Do tell,” Matsuko prompted after a beat of awestruck silence, “...for all of our edification.” “It was a beautiful spring day, not unlike today, in the Outer Whalebones Islands,” the bridegroom continued, standing up,  “I had committed one of my own fleet captains to the Water Daimyo’s cause of bringing down a notorious water baron, and had joined the crew to lend further assistance.” “I think I remember this....” Gekido began.  “...that bastard who called himself ‘Man-of-War,’....? “Correct,” Asaito acknowledged with a small nod.  “Our motley armada had closed in on the sea-faring tyrant, only to fall prey to his nefarious Labyrinth of Fog jutsu.  One by one, our ships were tricked into crashing into each other, or attacking our allies out of paranoid desperation.  Even my thermal vision dojutsu couldn’t pierce that infernal mist.  The bastard had turned our greater number suddenly against us, and we were at his cruel mercy....until....” He looked at Miriyume. “...the Storm Sage Priestess appeared, screaming her fury, and dispelling the mist.  I looked up from my wave-battered deck to see this....armored angel with thunderclad hair, and eyes like a tempest, perched on the prow of another ship a mere six paces away from my starboard side.  Had she not froze the water between our ships, the collision would have surly sunk us both. “Dressed for battle, her long hair swirling in the whirlwind of her heady, lightning-infused chakra, eyes containing every shade of color that ever existed, she was as a primordial goddess to me as she stood there. “With a gesture, you launched a blinding harpoon of electricity at the retreating tyrant’s ship, and brought down his main mast and rigging.  Then with a sweep of your arms, you directed the sea itself to turn your ship, the Freewind Star, toward our shared enemy, and renewed the hunt.  The Daimyo had him in custody only an hour later. “You spared my ship, saved my life, and stole my heart in a single moment, Miriyume-sama,” Asaito gave her a bow of respect.  “Please allow me the honor of spending the rest of my life thanking you.” The reverent hush that had stilled even Gekido’s tongue deeply disturbed Kakashi.  Kurenai had paled, and was blinking excessively.  Ryuumaru swallowed hard.  But nothing cut him as painfully deep as the look of glassy-eyed ardor on Miriyume’s face.  Had this silver-tongued, cold-cored man so completely enthralled her? Kakashi silently cursed the gods that had dealt him this fate.  Enduring this anguish.  Every fiber in his being was screaming out in protest of this union.  This marriage of hell and heaven.  How could something so foul ensnare someone so radiant?  His words were honey-coated poison, miring everyone’s ill-ease in a bog of amorous musings to which Asaito’s heart was utterly alien.  Why couldn’t anyone else see this?!?  Those kids had better find something solid enough to use as evidence...or he might have to revert to some of the tactics he employed during his Anbu days.... “Again, you are overly generous with your opinion of me,” Miriyume recovered, after a moment  “Our success that day was the result of all our efforts.” Ryuumaru, ever the doting father, chuckled at her persistent humility.  “My girl has always been overly humble when it comes to accepting compliments.” “But she makes up for it by being ridiculously eager in giving abuse,” Gekido quipped, ��Which she did that day...” “...and many days since,” Matsuko added. “...and many more days to come, no doubt,” Hiruzen concluded, with a toast. “Perhaps a marriage to a noble clan can curb some of her hell-raising habits...” Oda mused aloud. There was a full five seconds of dead silence before the Shimogakurans all burst into laughter.  Even Renara was wiping away tears. “My daughter is called the ‘Storm Priestess’ for a variety of reasons, Oda-sama,” Renara returned.  “There has been nothing yet discovered that can quell her wild ways.  And nothing should seek to.” “Yes, well...” Oda tried to recover, “that’s what they all—“ A sharp sound and an alarmingly vicious glare from Lord Asaito cut the monk’s words completely off.  Oda even paled somewhat beneath his jaundiced pallor. “...and I certainly intend nothing of the kind, honored Heron Priestess,” Asaito’s harrowing aspect snapped back to geniality so fast that it nearly gave one whiplash.  “Miriyume’s spirit is a rare, wondrous bloom amidst a sea of bland flowers.  It would be the highest of crimes to wish to change her,” Asaito pledged. Oda was looking rather sullen at the moment, fielding a new tension between him and his lord.  What had he nearly let slip, Kakashi wondered? “I know that my own village of Konoha would feel immense pride to have such an accomplished kunoichi marry into its citizens,” Hiruzen smiled, in an attempt to lighten the darker mood.  “In fact, had I known that Miriyume-sama was considering proposals, we of the Land of Fire  would have provided Asaito-sama with some competition...” “First...you attempt to charm my wife, and now you’re going after my daughter, Hiruzen!?  You’re as bad as that trashy-romance writing Toad Sage!”  Ryuumaru playfully scolded. The Hokage blushed, as Kurenai stifled a laugh, badly. “That’s not what I meant!” Hiruzen snapped, as everyone else had a chuckle at his expense.  “I only meant that there are a number of single jonin in Konohagakure who would be very taken with Miriyume-sama’s charms, and I would have been in complete support of their attempts.”  He smiled tenderly at Miriyume for a moment, and sighed.  “For some strange reason, well beyond my humble understanding, I always thought that the daughter of my dear friend would have made her home in the Village Hidden in the Leaves.  At least, for a little while...” What was this?  The Philosopher of Konohagakure hinting at prophecy?  Hiruzen was well known as a ‘sensor type’ shinobi, capable of seeing what most could not.  Or was this merely wishful thinking out loud? “The world is my home, Hokage-sama,” Miriyume returned, as the last of the dinner plates were removed.  “Ever since Team Three of Shimogakure changed their name to the Wandering Lights Brigade, and took to the road all those years ago.” “Its gonna be strange,” Gekido smiled, “Setting up a home base on this island....” “We can have an actual library!” Miriyume smiled at him. “...and a Rock Garden!” Matsuko added. “So, you both intend on becoming citizens of the Land of Water?” Asaito asked Miriyume’s team mates. “Of course we do!” Gekido returned.  “We’re a team, aren’t we?” “Then you are aware of the fact that you will be ranked among the lowest caste of our society....?” Oda warned. “If it comes to that, I’ll not take offense,” Matsuko stoically replied. “I will!” Miriyume returned immediately.  Hotly.  Her chakra had flared so bright it made Kakashi wince.  “They are my equals, in all things, and will be accorded the same respect as I am....or I will not marry you!” The last was spoken with the full gravity of a sacred vow before the gods themselves, and drained all semblance of mirth and levity from the room. “To insult them, is to insult me,” Miriyume continued, her eyes growing painfully luminous, sparking visible lighting from the outer edges in response to her ire.  “They are my team...my friends...my kin....” her every word was a hot needle, stitching her feelings into all ears. A hard lump formed in Kakashi’s throat, as he regarded her stormy aspect.  This was The Bond.  The nigh mythical tie that bound only the most blessed of teams.  The bond that had been so cruelly sabotaged in his first team.  The bond he so desperately wanted to forge for his current students.  Had he known nothing else about Miriyume Yaseiarashi, this moment alone would have caused him to fall in complete love with her... He swallowed as he felt a tear well up in his left eye.  The eye that had belonged to the teacher of his most treasured lesson. Reflexively, he covered the Sharingan, and his emotions. All was silent.  Even the wait staff were holding themselves back from intruding on the tense moment that had followed Miriyume’s proclamation.  Was this farce finally at an end?  Would the legendary solidarity of the Wandering Lights Brigade spare him the hell of tomorrow? “I had expected as much,” Asaito smiled, “After receiving all the reports on your...various adventures throughout the Land of Water.  You are undoubtedly devoted to one another, and I have  planned for this. “I have commissioned a small manse to be built on the grounds of my estate, big enough for two grown men....and a large dog, to live quite comfortably.  Miriyume will have different lodgings, of course, but I have always wanted the Brigade to feel completely welcome, and granted the highest respect my Prefecture can offer.” “Then...we’re still on for tomorrow,” Miriyume’s frightening ire ebbed away, to be replaced with her diplomatic poise, as she sipped her wine. Ryuumaru and Wakame sighed in relief.  Hiruzen resumed regular breathing.  Kakashi nearly sobbed. “Allow me to apologize if I did not clarify Lady Ice Flame’s unyielding position regarding the inclusion of her team mates, Oda-sama,” Wakame stood, and formally bowed her apology to the monk as the wait staff set bowls of vanilla bean ice cream in front of the diners.  “I was careless, trusting that their particular fame would have enough to signal their desire to remain together.” “Your oversight is forgiven, Wakame-san,” Oda returned, as a splendidly attired cooking-nin and an assistant bearing a large bowl filled with sliced apples, a shaker of powdered cinnamon, and a bottle of brandy on a cart entered.  “My Lord had once again seen and provided for what I have failed to.” “Well,” Ryuumaru segued, “We’re all on the same page, now, so let’s not belabor the misunderstanding with blame.  Dessert looks ready to serve, and we’ve got a party to get to....” “Yes!” Gekido picked up on the Shimokhan’s lead.  “We’ve got to give our girl a proper send-off!” “Must keep with tradition,” Matsuko seconded, as the head chef lit the brandy-doused apples with a fire jutsu, nearly torching his assistant in the process. “Speaking thusly,” Wakame began, as everyone watched the serving of dessert in mild alarm, “I understand that the Lord Asaito will be taking a vigil tonight, but, would he be willing to join us for the Father’s Toast, at least?” All eyes regarded Asaito, as he lowered his head, causing the uneven locks of his raven hair to conceal his pale face and burgundy eyes for a moment. “I regret that my own traditions prevent me, Wakame-san,” Asaito smiled.  “The men in my family have always spent the night before their weddings in deep meditation, to focus the mind and spirit for union.  And I believe that I will need every ounce of spiritual strength to even hope to do proper justice to my bride.” “Hmm....” Ryuumaru mused aloud, as he savored his first, and highly anticipated, bite of flambeed apples, “Those of Shimogakure tend to lean in another direction, regarding the groom’s mental state.” Hiruzen gave a sudden bark of laughter that made his honor guard jump.  “‘Lean’ is an apt word, Ryuu-kun!  If memory serves me, and it does far too well, you nearly required crutches to stand at your own wedding alter!” “In my defense, ‘Sake reveals the true heart,’” quoting a well-known adage.  “And my heart was never truer than on that day,” turning to his wife and kissing her cheek. Miriyume smiled brightly.  Hiruzen sighed in defeat.  Kakashi regarded Miriyume. “Aww...” Gekido cooed, feigning teary-eyed sentimentality.  Miriyume lifted a piece of ice-cream soaked brandied apple toward him, then let it fall into Aoseishin’s open mouth at the last second.  Matsuko laughed. “And I fervently wish that my daughter’s heart will be as true at her own wedding,” Renara added, then gave Kakashi a subtle glance and smile. Kakashi blushed at the enigmatic woman’s attention.  Was she being cruel....or conspiratorial? Back at the Tsuroyuni camp, three genin and a well-seasoned ninken had managed to slip inside the main pavilion, and were perusing its interior.  Despite the warm, fresh spring air outside, the climate beyond the inky curtains was stale, preternaturally cold, and redolent of decay. “Is he farming mushrooms in here?” Naruto complained, suppressing the urge to shiver. “It is cold in here,” Sakura agreed.  “Too cold.  Almost like a cave.” “Or a morgue,” Sasuke added, as they inspected a curtained-off chamber containing four empty sleeping cots.  “There doesn’t seem to be anyone in here.  Anyone living, that is....” “Did you find a dead person?!?” Naruto demanded, trembling. “We might, if you three keep yapping instead of searching....” Pakkun warned.  “Let’s hurry up and find something useful.  It feels as if this place has eyes...” “What do you mean, ‘eyes’...?” Naruto fretted, slightly quieter, as they parted another shroud-like curtain, and crossed into a new chamber.  This one looked like a study, full of ebony scroll-racks and a small desk.  In the far corner was a lone cot. “Whoever this person is, they like to read,” Pakkun commented, ignoring Naruto’s question, and crossing to the cot, sniffing the bed clothes, “...and use a disgusting unguent...” Sakura wrinkled her nose in agreement, as she moved closer, “This is that monk’s room.  He reeked of the stuff.” “It’s very off-putting,” Pakkun continued, taking a moment to scratch behind an ear.  “It almost wants to make me stop breathing–like the incense from those braziers outside.  Very suspicious, too, such a deliberate attempt to thwart my nose.” “Maybe he doesn’t like dogs,” Naruto offered, as he examined the ink well on the desk.  Silver ink. “Then there is something horribly wrong with this man!” Pakkun fired back angrily.  “Only deeply evil people don’t like dogs,” he declared, as he watched as Sasuke reached for one of the many of the dozens of scrolls.  Black scrolls. With a flick of his wrist, Sasuke unfurled the dark parchment, causing a cloud of dust to appear. Sakura and Pakkun moved back to avoid breathing it in.  Naruto didn’t.  Sakura’s finger was suddenly lodged beneath Naruto’s nose, cutting off the sneeze that would have surely resulted. “What did you find, Sasuke-san?” Pakkun asked, as the boy’s eyes angrily scanned the dark page, absorbing every detail with his Sharingan. “This is a roster of the Uchiha Clan, but it only mentions the women.” Sakura released her hold on Naruto’s nose, and moved to regard the scroll.  Silver ink on black parchment... “Why have some names been circled and crossed out?” she asked. “No idea,” Sasuke admitted.  “The closest in relation to me that have been marked is a cousin on my Mother’s side...who was a little older than...” he paused a moment, then forced the next words out: “...my brother.  The next closest is a great aunt who died long before–“ ”A cousin...” Naruto repeated, following a muffled sneeze.  “Like Hinata’s cousin...?  Like she mentioned earlier?” “What are you muttering about?” Sasuke snapped, clearly on edge about the sensitive information in his hand. Sakura’s eyes registered Naruto’s train of thought, “Sasuke-kun....this is silver ink...on black paper....like Hinata described....” Sasuke’s eyes flashed red, making the connection.  He scanned the other scroll cases.  “Look for the Hyuga Clan seal...” “Here!” Naruto announced, taking the scroll and unfurling it.   “All the women again...” Sakura observed. “But almost all are circled,” Sasuke continued.  “From both the main and branch houses.  In fact, the only ones who aren’t circled are women who married into the family.” “They wouldn’t have the Byakugan,” Pakkun noted. “Most of them have been crossed out as well,” Sakura related, as suddenly recognized a name.  “Look, there’s Hibani!  Crossed out.” Sasuke’s eyes narrowed dangerously.  “But look who’s circled, and not crossed out....” Sakura gasped, as she followed Sasuke’s finger.  Naruto looked. “Hinata...” Naruto intoned. “This monk seems awfully interested in the maternal genealogy of people,” Pakkun growled.  “There are scrolls from all over in here.”  The ninken stopped to examine the mon of a low-racked scroll.  “This is the mark of the Kamizuru clan, from Iwagakure...” “Are there any more from the Leaf?” Sasuke asked. “This one looks familiar...” Naruto suggested, pointing to a scroll. “That’s the Senju crest!” Sakura easily recognized.  “And the Yamanaka, the Aburame....Nara...” “Yaseiarashi....” Pakkun called out, before plucking it from the shelf.  He nosed it open on the floor, as the genin crowed around. It was a small lineage, it seemed.  Only a handful of women were listed.  One was Renara.  Circled, crossed out.  One was Miriyume.  Circled.  Circled again. “It would seem that Asaito has been very meticulous in his selection process,” Pakkun deducted.  “Seems a bit overdone, though.” “But why is someone like Hinata circled?” Sakura posited.  “She’s way too young to even be in contention for a man like him!” “I don’t like this,” Sasuke announced.  “This is sensitive information.  We should destroy it. At least, the scrolls concerning the Leaf Village.” “Ordinarily I would agree with you,” Pakkun returned.  “But that action would prove that someone was here, and Kakashi said to take no risks in getting caught.” “Actually, what he said was, ‘Don’t get caught,’” Naruto amended. “...which entails using the first Rule of Espionage: Leave no trace,” the pug retorted.  “Now, roll all these up and put them back where we found them.” Sasuke huffed, but did as advised.  Naruto began to roll up the Yaseiarashi one, and suddenly stopped, regarding an entry. “Hurry up, Naruto!” Sakura urged, moving to assist him.  His wide eyes were fixed on something.  “What....?” She followed his gaze, and gasped softly. Uzumaki.....Renara! “She’s....my....” Naruto began, hardly able to form words. “Blood relation!” Sakura finished for him. Sasuke scoffed.  “Figures.  She’s almost as ridiculous as you are...” “Sasuke!” Sakura chided, but laughed a little.  “You know...I can kind of see a little of the resemblance, now that I think about it.” Naruto smiled and even blushed a little. “But you’re still goofier than she’s ever been, I am certain!” Sakura ended. “Enough!” Pakkun barked.   “Let’s keep moving.” Once the scrolls were all replaced, they parted another, thicker curtain, and found themselves in a pitch black, shockingly cold space.  Sakura began to rummage in her ninja pouch for a flashlight. “Ugh...its too cold in here,” Naruto whispered harshly.  “Did we just find a freezer?” “No.  A bedroom,” Pakkun returned, as Sakura’s flashlight cast a ray of illumination on an ornate, iron, four-postered bed.   Sakura gasped, and instantly clutched at Sasuke, who winced slightly from the minor pain she had inadvertently caused his arm.  Naruto also glomped onto the reassuring huddle, and the flashlight fell at their feet.  As it rolled away, its light passed over a few more pieces of equally uncomfortable furnishings, until it stopped on a large, rectangular object, opposite the bed.  It seemed to be made of some coal-black wood, and carved with a riot of ‘unwholesome’ designs involving captive maidens, sadistic demons, and lustful beasts. Sakura averted her eyes.  Naruto openly gawked.  Pakkun and Sasuke took it in with their own brands of stoicism. “Its like something out of a horror movie!” Sakura accused.  “Is the Lady Ice Flame going to be some kind of sacrifice in some weird ritual?” “I’ve seen enough,” Sasuke announced disgustedly, moving back toward the curtain-door that they had just stepped through.  “I’m going to regroup with the others, and see if they found anything.” Pakkun huffed, letting the boy go.  He knew full well why the Uchiha had excused himself.  His clan compound had become a rather cold and forbidding place since that horrible massacre.  He couldn’t blame him for being uncomfortable here. “I don’t see any blood stains,” Naruto reported, as he dared to inspect the strange piece closer.  The bas-relief of a woman and a squid....locked in a passionate embrace made him turn bright red, and bleed a little out of his nose. “Its not blood that the Tsuroyuni Clan craves, child,” came a soft, sibilant voice from the shadows behind them, startling them all.  “Their tastes are much more....refined.”  The same voice was now on top of a grim-looking wardrobe. Sakura and Naruto both drew kunai knives. “Show yourself, coward,” Pakkun demanded, upset with himself for not sensing the new presence. “If I were a coward, I would have just kept watching you bumble about from the shadows...” replied the voice, as a black cat, wearing a metal-plate collar, padded into the flashlight’s beam.  Her bright, golden eyes seemed to carry a smile, “....clumsy ninken.” The ninekko’s insult was too much.  Pakkun barked and lunged, propelled by deep-rooted, natural animosities.   “Pakkun!  No!” Sakura pleaded, hardly believing what was happening.  Wasn’t Kakashi-sensei’s ninken supposed to be the calm, level-headed one?!? Outside, Sasuke had chosen to find Shino first, out of a desire for clear-headed intel.  He wasn’t disappointed. The spying beetles had been deployed, and had heard a tremendous amount of gossip amongst the guards, and it all indicated a deep sense of communal fear and loathing for their employer. “One man even expressed a desire for this Lord Asaito to die, to be rid of the clan for good,” Shino reported.  “Although he was reprimanded for airing such an opinion, no one seemed to disagree.  The monk seems to be equally reviled.” “How can one surround themselves with such an apathetic group of guards?” Sasuke openly wondered. “Because of what all odious people of power come to rely upon: hired muscle,” Shino answered.  “If the pay is good, mercenaries can tolerate all manner of abuse and atrocity.  And these men are paid well.” The sound of a dog barking ended their conversation abruptly. “That was not Akamaru....” Shino immediately deducted. “Crap...” Sasuke muttered, springing into motion. Naruto had used his well-practiced, yet poorly thought out, cat-catching technique of ‘pounce-and-grapple’.  The ninneko was incensed enough to claw his cheek before teleporting a small distance away in a cloud of gray smoke. “How dare you grab me!” the ninneko hissed, “After I shared information with you!?  Perhaps you’re not as helpful as the Mistress thought!” “‘Mistress’?” Sakura picked up.  “You mean, you don’t belong to Lord Asaito?” The ninneko made a wretching noise, obviously insulted.  “I don’t belong to anyone!  And least of all....Asaito Tsuroyuni!  My Mistress and I have a contract, because she’s interesting.  And has good food...and fluffy blankets...” “So, you’re a spy....?” Pakkun demanded, having composed himself. “Just as you are,” the ninneko replied back, as she delicately washed behind an ebon ear.  “Although....I’m a better one, for Yonome is never caught.  Farewell, fools!” She then slipped out of sight, like the shadows that seemed to cling to her, just as a trio of Tsuroyuni guards burst into the tent chamber. “How’d you get in here?!” a particularly burly one demanded, grabbing hold of Naruto, as the other two pounced on Sakura and Pakkun. “Uh...um....” Naruto floundered for an excuse, squirming in the guard’s iron grip, “I...was...chasing after my dog!  He ran in here, and I got lost...” “And why are you here?” the guard holding Sakura continued, as he rather noticeably shied away from standing too close to the strange alter. “Because I was chasing him!” she raged.  Kakashi-sensei was going to be furious!  At least Sasuke had escaped. “Sounds fishy,” the guard holding Pakkun by the scruff of his neck commented.  “Why would a dog willing run into this tent?” shuddering slightly in the dim light provided by Sakura’s flashlight. “Good question,” came another voice, from the other side of the room.  “But a better question is how did it escape the notice of you, and the rest of that sorry lot outside?” A tall, dark figure, as tall and muscled as Zabuza had been, stepped out of the cold, deep shadows.  Much in the same way the ninneko had. He wore the same sooty-hued armor as the others, but surmounted by a long, black, hooded cloak.  His eyes were onyx pits, and his mouth was a little more than a sober slit, devoid of any warmth or emotion. “Who are you...?” Sakura’s captor asked nervously. “I’m the guard our Lord assigned to secure this sanctum, knowing full well that you morons wouldn’t be enough to ensure its safety,” he replied gruffly, taking Pakkun out of the guard’s hand, and holding him up to his own eyes.   Pakkun actually cowered and whined plaintively. “Pakkun...?” Naruto called out in concern.  “Put him down!” he raged. “I hope your mutt is well-worth the punishment you’ll be receiving from your Village’s own hands, little shinobi,” the dark guard warned, as he shoved the dog into Naruto’s arms, then grabbed the two genin roughly by the collars, and began to march them outside.  “Not to mention the little abuses I will inflict on the way there...” Out of genuine shock and dismay, Naruto and Sakura went along without much resistance.  Had this man seen all that they had done?  Pakkun’s nose was useless! “So, they’re not spies?  Or thieves?” one of the guards, the highest ranked, probably, pressed as he followed the procession to the edge of the campsite. “It was as they said,” the dark guard assured.  “The dog snuck in, and they followed.  No real harm done, unless we’re talking about your reputations...” scowling back at the unwanted escort.  “I’ve half a mind to tell Lord Asaito all about your incompetence, get you all fired.  Or worse...” The trio of guards, and the few who were brave enough to be curious all paled at the last part of the dark guard’s theat. “But being as how this has all been so absurd, and our Lord had much more....pleasant business at hand, I’m willing to remain silent to preserve all of our integrity.  Agreed?” Everyone nodded.  Many swallowed hard, and looked skyward in gratitude.  Asaito’s rage was apparently the stuff of nightmares.

“Let me go!” Naruto demanded, as he struggled against the man’s unrelenting grip on his turtleneck collar.  “I just wanted to get my dog back!” The dark guard gave a soft chuckle.  “We both know that’s not true....” Sakura screamed.  “You’re hurting me!” as the man steered her forward with a handful of her pink hair. “You bully!” Naruto seethed, as he attempted to begin the hand jutsu that gave him ludicrous back-up.  Pakkun wasn’t helping.  The ninken bit him, forcing Naruto to drop the dog, and the guard came to a stop. He turned both his captives to face him, giving each a withering scowl. “‘I lost my dog’?  Was that seriously the best cover you could come up with?”  A familiar, mocking tone had crept into the man’s voice, as he released his hold on them. “You...?  You’re not a...guard?” Sakura puzzled out aloud.  “You aren’t turning us in?” “I should,” the man crowed, “But, since our sensei is so keen on improving our teamwork...” Sakura’s smile of relief quickly reverted to alarm as a ball of feral rage slammed into their cunningly disguised team mate. “Kiba, no!” she screamed, as the Inuzuka stood proudly over his body-slammed target, dusting his hands.  Hinata and Shino quickly closed in. “Why are you complaining, Sakura?” Shino demanded.  “We were only trying to assist....” “Where’s Sasuke?” Kiba asked.  Akamaru informed him with a soft whine.  “Oh,” the feral boy acknowledged with a blush, stepping away from his victim. “Yeah!  Where is that good-for-nothing deserter?!” Naruto demanded. “Right here, you moron!” the dark guard sat up from his sprawled landing, and wiped away the blood from the minor cut on his lip.  Sasuke then dispelled his Doppleganger jutsu, and stood.  “I don’t abandon my missions.” “Oh, Sasuke-kun, you were brilliant!” Sakura gushed, as she pressed a medicated gauze patch to his cut lip.  “You scared Asaito’s guards absolutely silent!” “Why’d you bite me?” Naruto demanded of Pakkun, as he sucked on his bitten finger.  Hinata attempted to examine his hand. “Because you would have ruined the illusion that Sasuke-san had created to ensure the guards’ silence!” Pakkun huffed. “So you knew it was Sasuke-kun all along?” Sakura asked. “Of course!” Pakkun returned.  “My nose is the best out of Kakashi-san’s pack!  And I could read his intentions well enough.  A truly gifted ninja is a master of guile as well as stealth.” “Speaking of stealth,” Shino spoke up, “Why was it that you started barking?” Pakkun had enough decency to look a little ashamed as he considered his reply. “Because he saw a cat!” Naruto blurted, as Hinata succeeded in wrapping his hand in a bandage. Kiba laughed.  Akamaru growled in sympathy. “But not just any cat,” Sakura defended.  “It was a talking cat, who moved in the shadows like a fish moves through water.” “A ninneko?” Sasuke sighed.  “So, our mission’s secrecy has been compromised after all,” he fumed, kicking at the loamy trail in frustration. “No, I don’t believe so,” Pakkun countered.  “The cat was also a spy, for some unknown woman, who also seems to suspect Asaito of bad intentions.” “....and considers us as allies, to some degree,” Sakura added.  “So there must be someone else among these guests who thinks that this wedding is a bad idea.  Kaka-sensei will be so relieved.” Kiba scratched the back of his head, and smiled in smug satisfaction. “Kurenai-sensei had been skimming your teacher’s thoughts lately, out of a growing concern for his...excessive oddness.  She says its been...interesting,” the Inuzuka smiled. “Interesting how...?” Naruto pressed. “Interesting in how uncharacteristic it is for Kakashi-sensei to be so swayed by his emotions,” Shino provided.  “In fact, Kurenai-sensei has said that she has never known him to be so emotionally transparent as he’s become since arriving here.  It troubles her....and the Hokage.” “Well, you can just tell them that there’s nothing to be worried about,” Naruto defended.  “He just wants Lady Priestess Knock-Out to be safe, is all.” “I think it goes a little deeper than that,” Kiba smiled, glancing over at his Hyuga team mate.  “Hinata-chan knows what I’m talking about....” giving her a playful wink.  Hinata’s cheeks flushed an immediate crimson, since she’d been caught staring at Naruto again. “Knows what?” Naruto asked, utterly lost.

[ladyiceflame-blog]

Confession:

Alright, this is no longer a mere ‘novel’.  These are fully-fledged story arcs, woven into as much canon that I can find!  And “An Inconvenient Wedding” is only the first of many...

I adore the characters and world that Masashi Kishimoto has created.  So much so, that I had to invent Miriyume to be a part of it!  I have also (if you haven’t gleaned from my fan-fic yet) expanded more upon the little mentioned shinobi village of Shimogakure, and the Land of Frost in general, giving them all the sorts of quirks and details to further flesh out my OC’s background.  I have also created her family, her team mates, new friends, and a few nasty enemies in her future, and she has a long one!

So, if you ever wanted a good, long read, based firmly in Kishimoto-san’s “Naruto” world, packed with head-canon history, the unbreakable bond of an unlikely trio (plus a ninken!), the unusual sage power attracted to a half-hearted priestess, a bizarre and little understood dojutsu, occasional original art, and the long, complex story of her epic love for her elusive soul-mate (Kakashi Hatake), buckle in, and hold tight!  This is going to be a long, long, journey...

[ladyiceflame-blog]

An Inconvenient Wedding:

Chapter Ten:  Recon and Revelation

“So,” the sober little pug began, as he took a moment to scratch behind an ear,  “Who is this ‘Asaito,’ exactly, and why are we spying on him?” “You...you can....talk?!” Naruto acknowledged immediately.  For once, speaking on account of the others who seemed equally surprised. “Of course I can talk!” Pakkun huffed in annoyance.  “I am a master-level ninken, aren’t I?” “But....Kiba’s Akamaru doesn’t speak....does he?” Sakura pressed. “Not that I’ve noticed,” Sasuke admitted.  “But Kiba seems to understand him.” “The Inuzuka all have this ability to communicate with dogs.  But summoned ninken can speak the human tongue,” Pakkun regaled.  “Now, who is Asaito?” “He’s a jonin from the Land of Water, who is going to marry the Lady Ice Flame tomorrow,” Sakura provided. “I think I may have heard of this woman before...” the pug mused aloud.  “Isn’t she some kind of wandering shinobi...?” “She is,” Naruto returned.  “Although, most call her Miriyume.” “Miriyume?!?” the pug gasped, his half-lidded eyes going suddenly wide.  “...from Shimogakure?” “Um-hmm,” Sasuke answered, wearing a smug smile.  “You know of her, then.  Have you met her?” “Unfortunately, I have not.  But my master mourned that name, long ago.  I was just a puppy.  He was very sad.”  There was a tinge of whimper in his voice. “Well, Kaka-sensei’s still sad, because she’s about to get hitched to a total dirt-bag!” Naruto reported, “and we’ve got one night left to convince her of it!” “Asaito is very reclusive and paranoid,” Sakura chimed in.  “No one has really seen him in person, despite being camped here for the last couple of days.” “And he has a creepy old monk working for him, too,” Naruto added.   “Miriyume’s team mates don’t even seem to like this guy,’ Sasuke continued.  “Despite this being some ‘mutual arrangement’.  They say it’s a marriage of politics, but she doesn’t seem to know much about his causes, or beliefs...” “Or his face!” Naruto scoffed. “And tonight will be the first night that they meet each other,” Sakura picked up again.  “How can a marriage be so...cold?  They’re basically strangers!  It doesn’t make sense...” “Matters concerning the Mist...and love in general, seldom do,” Pakkun quipped.  “But let’s attempt to find some answers.” As the three genin led Pakkun stealthily toward their target campsite, another keen nose caught whiff of their passage. “And just where are you guys sneaking off to...?” Kiba called out, before stepping out of the shadows of some trees ahead of them. “We’re on a mission, Kiba!” Naruto snapped back. “...On our sensei’s orders,” Sasuke added.  “And stealth is key, so don’t cause a scene.”  His eyes flashed briefly with a menacing red hue. “‘Stealth,’ You say...?” Kiba chuckled back, as Akamaru and Pakkun exchanged canine pleasantries, “Then why is Naruto involved?” “Because he’s part of out team, you flea-farm!” Sakura riposted. “Kiba takes great pride in his grooming,” a deep, flat voice lectured from above, before dropping down beside the pink-haired genin.  “There are no fleas on his or Akamaru’s person, ever.” “Shino!” Sakura jumped back, bumping up against a mildly irritated Sasuke.  “You nearly gave me a heart-attack!” “Then Hinata-sama had better come out from behind that camphor tree before anyone else gets scared....” Pakkun suggested. Meekly, Hinata crept from the cover of the wide bole, and stood beside Kiba, her pale cheeks flushed as pink as Sakura’s hair. “Can we trust you to cover our absence in camp?” Sasuke asked. Kiba snorted back in derision.  “With the Hokage and our sensei gone, no one is going to miss us.  So why don’t you tell us more about this ‘mission’?” He bent down to pick up Akamaru, and let him climb onto the top of his hooded head.  “We’re bored.” “How about we don’t!” Naruto countered. “How about we just follow you, and figure it out for ourselves?” Kiba returned.  “Tracking and spying is our speciality, after all.  Not that you three are posing much of a challenge....” “Take that puppy off of your head, and I’ll give you a challenge!” Naruto fumed. “No, wait, Kiba’s right,” Sasuke decided suddenly, putting a hand on Naruto’s shoulder.  “They are better at spying.  They can help us.” “They can be our perimeter watch,” Sakura agreed, “...and our early warning system, for when Asaito’s party returns.” “So you mean to spy on the Land of Water compound,” Shino sussed aloud. “We do,” Sasuke admitted. “On....on....Tsuroyuni-sama.....Asaito?” Hinata asked nervously. “Uh-huh,” Naruto answered.  “Rumor has it that he’s a scum-bag.” “He.  He....is,” Hinata returned, shocking everyone. The formal feast hall was a summoned structure of crimson silk walls and curtained doors.  It seemed a little out of place amongst the yurts and tents surrounding it.  Warm lights from within had turned the long, rectangular space into a massive lamp against the fast-encroaching twilight. Wakame was at a door positioned in the middle of the silken tent, standing with a pair of Shimogakuran shinobi.  She immediately beckoned them. “Ah, Hiruzen-sama!” she greeted warmly.  “We get to sit together, because I made the seating arrangements!  Although, I seem to have neglected to find an honor guard for myself.” “Kurenai-san and Kakashi-san will come to your aid if needed, have no doubts,” Hiruzen assured.  “You don’t foresee any trouble, do you, Wakame-san?” “Only if the dessert chef has been over indulging himself in the brandy again....” Wakame laughed.  “Please, come in...” As they stepped past the scarlet curtains, Kurenai gasped softly in wonder at the interior.  Dozens of golden lanterns suffused the space with a welcoming, radiant light.  A long, ebony table, laid with elegant ceramic, crystal, lacquered chopsticks, and embroidered linen sat at knee-height, surrounded by decadent-looking velvet cushions. Directly opposite them, already seated on two of the cushions, was the Shimokhan and his wife, the Heron Sage-Priestess.  Another pair of Shimogakuran nin stood behind them. “Ah!  Hiruzen-sama!” Ryuumaru greeted heartily, raising his sake cup in salute, as Wakame prompted him to sit down beside her.  “You’ve always been a punctual kind of fellow.  I wish I could say the same of my daughter....or my soon-to-be son-in-law...” he grumbled. “Settle down, beloved, or your sake drinking privileges shall be revoked for the evening,” the almost otherworldly beautiful woman beside him chided softly.  Her skin was as pale as moonlight.  Her hair was a long cascade of lavender that had been plaited into a thick braid, ending in a silver heron ornament.  She was wearing a high-collared hime kimono, in the Yaseiarashi colors of indigo and silver, printed with the three pronged clan seal.  A large banner behind the couple echoed these motifs. And for the first time, Kakashi was able to see the color of her eyes: a solid, arresting shade of golden green that called to mind images of morning sunlight, filtering through summer oak leaves.  And there was a definite power in those eyes... “Renara-sama...” Hiruzen began with a soft sigh, “The rumors are true.  Your beauty is ageless.” The Heron Sage Priestess smiled demurely at the compliment.  “Hiruzen-sama remains ever the flatterer....” “Alright, now, stop flirting with my wife,” the Shimokhan demanded with a playful gruffness.  “Would your shinobi care for some sake before dinner begins?  It will be their last chance to partake of anything until after we’ve eaten...due to some byzantine custom of established marriage etiquette, I’m afraid.” A gentle nudge from Renara prompted him to add, “...or tea, perhaps?  Renara-chan has brought one of her custom blends....” “Some tea would be lovely,” Kurenai answered. “And you....?” Ryuumaru turned his hawk-like eyes on Kakashi. “Out of respect for both my hosts, I will have some of both,” he replied. “Excellent answer!” the Head Ninja of Shimogakure cheered, as a young chamberlain went off to get the drinks. “Now, permit me to make some quick introductions.  First of all, my beautiful wife, the Heron Sage-Priestess, the resplendent Lady Renara,” taking her pale hand and kissing it.  “Mother of the Bride, spouse of a salt-crusted old fool.” “I relish salt,” Renara returned sweetly. “Behind us are Nobu Madarame and Hyozan Shirogane.  Nobu-san was the same year as Miri-chan.  Hyozan-san was a few years behind.” “Was she a close friend of yours?” Kurenai asked, regarding Nobu, and accepting her tea. “We all were close friends,” Hyozan answered for him.  “....Mat-kun, Gek-kun, all of us.  Shimogakure is a small village...” “When Shimokhan-sama said that Miri-sama and I were in the same year, he was speaking definitively,” Nobu added.  “Her and I were the only new genin that year.” “Only two genin in a class?!” Hiruzen gasped.  “I believe this last year, we had nine!” “We often must wait years before assembling a genin team, due to our low population,” Wakame added.  “Some never get the chance, like me.” “Well, I, for one, envy your academy’s ability to devote so much more time to their students,” Hiruzen returned.   “Miri-sama sure didn’t...” Nobu chuckled, before receiving a sharp look from his Head Ninja.  “Sorry, Khan.” The Hokage cleared his throat: “Allow me to introduce the shinobi accompanying me tonight, Kurenai Yuhi, and Kakashi Hatake.  Both, I believe, are about the same year as your daughter and Nobu-san.” “Kakashi.....” Renara began, as if recalling some distant memory, “....of the Copy-Wheel Eye?” “I am called that, yes,” Kakashi returned, as he turned back around from his guarded sip of the proffered sake.  He raised his headband a touch to allow her a glimpse of the eye that gave him that moniker. Renara nodded in gratitude, and continued as he replaced his headband.  A servant exchanged his sake cup for a tea cup.  “...also, Hero of the Sharingan....and White Fang’s Cub...” she elaborated, giving her husband a pointed look. Ryuumaru drew a sharp breath, and locked his gaze on the grey-haired jonin.  “That’s why he’s so damn familiar!  He looks just like him!  You’re Sakumo’s boy!” Kakashi’s exposed eye betrayed his surprise.  “You....knew of my father?” “Knew him?!  I owed the man my life!  It was his talent with a sword that prevented Renara-sama from becoming a widow!”  Ryuumaru’s face fell slightly, as he remembered the nature of his friend’s departure from this world.  “My grief prevented me from uttering his name for nearly three years...after I’d gotten word of his passing.” “Such an incongruent custom, for such an eminently gregarious country,” observed an oily new voice in the tent.  The messenger monk of the Tsuroyuni household had arrived, creeping out of  the shadows of the curtained doors on the far left.   “The incongruence directly reflects our somber attitude toward death, Oda-sama,” Renara returned.  “But let us not speak of such things before a wedding.  It is bad luck.” “I am in agreement, my lady,” Oda took a moment to regard the furnishings, eyeing the empty cushion under the banner bearing the emblem of Water. “We seem to be missing a couple of key guests here tonight,” the unsavory monk observed, “For instance, a bride?” “Shimogakuran brides always enter last, Oda-sama!” came a familiar, strident male voice from the curtained area on the far right.  “Its another of our ‘incongruent customs’....” “Gekido-san!” Wakame censured sharply, as she stood and moved to stand beside a braided cord on the right side of the room, under the Frost banner.  Oda had positioned himself beside a matching one on the left. Ryuumaru chuckled to himself, muttering, “I love that boy,” before being nudged to respectful silence by his wife. Miriyume had been watching from the shadows, Kakashi suddenly realized, straightening his stance.   “Then out of the deepest respect for the bride, let me proudly present the groom, the Lord Asaito Tsuroyuni!  Governor of the Koryomizu Prefecture, in the Land of Water!” Oda announced, and pulled the cord.  The silken curtains parted, from which first stepped a quartet of guards, dressed entirely in black, surmounted by light shinobi plate armor.  The katana that they carried didn’t soften their look any.  Then the groom stepped forward. Tall, slender, and the very essence of every woman’s darkest desire.  The half-smile on his clean-shaven, alabaster face spoke of a supreme self-confidence.  His straight carriage and unconscious grace attested to a noble lineage.  And his eyes: an odd shade of burgundy that made both Wakame and Kurenai gasp at the appealing promises that they hid in their depths, as they swallowed the golden light of the lanterns. His black yukata, embellished with silver symbols of longevity, was worn daringly open, revealing perfectly sculpted pectorals.  His raven, shoulder-length hair was best described as ‘stylishly tousled’.  Kakashi thought he looked like every playboy tempter he’d ever seen splayed over his Icha-Icha reading.... It was all too easy to see the immediate impact his appearance had on women.  Kurenai and Wakame were both agog.  Even the girls on the wait staff were awkwardly gawking.  The only woman who seemed immune to his ‘charms’ was Renara. The uncomfortable silence was broken by the man who had created it. “My heartfelt greetings, honored parents-to-be,” in an authoritative, yet genial tone that carried as easily as a temple bell.  “Long have I desired to meet the people responsible for bringing the Lady Ice Flame into the world.  You have my infinite gratitude,” ending the proclamation with a deeply respectful bow. Ryuumaru looked a little overwhelmed at the pronouncement.  “Well, then....you are most...welcome...” looking desperately to his wife. “Please, sit, and make yourself comfortable,” Renara continued. “Meaning no offense,” Asaito pardoned, “I wish to be standing when I first lay eyes upon my betrothed, if it isn’t too much to ask...?” “His pious discretion over the past few days has surely earned him this right....?” Oda lobbied from his seat beside Hiruzen. “I see no problem with it,” Ryuumaru returned, and nodded to Wakame. “Then it is with equal pride, and pleasure, that I present the Lady Ice Flame, Miriyume Yaseiarashi, the Storm Sage Priestess of Shimogakure!” The cord was pulled, the curtains parted, and the Lady Ice Flame stepped forth.  Only one word could form in Kakashi’s mind: sublime. She was wearing an indigo yukata that melted into the colors of her Land’s famed aurora borealis on the bottom hems of the long, bell sleeves and robe.  An obi of twinkling stars was tied in a butterfly knot right above her shapely, round hips.  Her top was also rather daringly open, permitting a delicious view of her overly generous bosom.  Her long, fiery hair had been pinned up into an elegant coiffure, and was festooned with a variety of ornaments, allowing a rare glimpse of her graceful, slender neck. Kakashi’s idle lungs suddenly sucked in a desperately needed breath, as she stood at the end of the table closest to him.  Her sapphire and emerald eyes were regarding the man that was to be her husband.  They squinted in appraisal. “Here I am,” she announced with a mischievous looking smirk on her plum-lacquered lips.  Her eyes then scanned over the others in the room, and brought a blush to Kakashi’s cheeks when they landed on him. “Your beauty from afar is undeniable, my Lady,” Asaito began, “But at this distance, you are utterly devastating,” placing a long fingered hand over his heart, and sunk to his knees, onto his cushion.  “I very nearly tremble at your majesty.” “She does clean up rather nice, doesn’t she, Mat-kun?” Gekido asided, as he and his teammate, including Aoseishin, of course, flanked Miriyume as she took her seat. “You cut a rather dashing figure, yourself, my Lord,” Miriyume purred, as she toyed with a strand of icy colored jade beads that hung against her bountiful decolletage.  “Very tall....very mysterious.  I am a fan of both these traits.” Kakashi bit his lip, powerless to do much else. “I lament the mystery by which I have been forced to live,” Asaito returned, his wine-dark eyes riveted to her.  “It has resulted in a lonely life.” “But there is word of great changes in the Land of Water,” Hiruzen began.  “New attitudes of acceptance and tolerance?” “Such changes–welcome as they are–can not happen overnight,” Asaito returned. “There are still many who would thwart, and even harm, my Lord simply because of his kekkei genkai...minor that it is,” Oda added. “And yet, you would request that my daughter, who is possessed of two kekkei genkai, of significant merit, tie her fate to this risk?” Ryuumaru countered. “Miriyume-sama’s safety would be paramount to my own, I can assure you,” Asaito returned, looking his prospective father-in-law directly in the eye.  “My island is a fortress that has never been breached.  Kirigakure can’t even make such a boast.” “No, they certainly can’t,” the Hokage seconded softly, giving a sly, sidelong glance to the man who had broken that village’s defenses numerous times, who was standing behind Wakame.  He noticed that Kakashi looked a little paler than normal... “And I am rather good at taking care of myself, Father,” Miriyume reminded playfully. “You most certainly can, my darling girl,” Ryuumaru agreed.  “But let a father indulge some concern for your well-being every once in awhile.” “Let us get this dinner started already, shall we?” Renara suggested, nodding at Wakame who got up again to ring a ceremonial gong. As a flurry of serving staff entered the room, Kakashi focused on projecting a stoic front in the light of this grueling torment.  He’d been hoping for some pudgy, over-privileged, noble prefect who had been awarded a jonin status simply because of caste, but this man looked like he could put up a good fight when motivated.  He also seemed to be rather attractive...  At least, Kurenai seemed to think so, what with her frequent glances in Asaito’s direction. Kakashi turned back toward Miriyume, desperate for some small clue to her inner thoughts.  She was radiant, shining brighter than any of the golden lanterns above them.  He watched as she gave Aoseishin a small scratch behind his thick, pointy ear, as he curled up at her side.  Again, her casual attitude in the face of rampant formality made him smile.  He began to feel the forbidding tendrils of his compounding misery loosen and fall away in the comforting light of her presence.  Was this her chakra at work again? He pulled the headband off of his left eye, and saw the languid curtains of iridescent light that always seemed to accompany her, suffusing her with natural chi, and winding about her companions.  Every once in awhile, a ribbon of her light would meander his direction, and grant him a light tingle of chakra, but her spiritual energy sharing seemed to concentrate mostly on the spaces beside her.  A steady rivulet of light seemed to be flowing toward her parents, however.  An alternating current effect from her father’s own abilities, perhaps? Ryuumaru’s chakra had an amber aura, and a more focused, tighter control.  He grounded his superfluous energy, and kept the nimbus that surrounded him snug against himself.  He seemed more of a furnace than a wellspring. The Heron Priestess received a small amount of his run-off energy, which transmuted to a pale jade glow.  The contemplation of which produced a calming, focusing effect upon Kakashi’s heart, reminding him of his official purpose: assess the danger.  He turned toward Asaito: There was a dull ember in his strange, chartreuse eyes that never seemed to stray beyond Miriyume for long.  He was indeed ‘desirous’ of this union.  The hunger behind them was too easily read.  Every once in awhile, Kakashi could see a flare of some kind of energy, lurking behind them, in response to a wayward eddy of Miriyume’s chakra.  Was this Asaito’s kekkei genkai? “This tea...” the Hokage began, savoring its scent as the others were being served.  “Such a familiar aroma....what is it?” “Its northern ginseng,” Renara answered.  “Renowned for its....stimulative properties.” “As if Miri-chan needs that...” Gekido quipped to Matsuko, who smacked the back of his head. On the other side of the table, one of Asaito’s personal guard stepped forward to take a sip from the tea cup offered to his employer. “We are not in the habit of poisoning our own food, Lord Asaito,” Ryuumaru announced gruffly, clearly insulted. “My deepest apologies, Yaseiarashi-sama,” Asaito begged, as he was handed the tea cup.  “I have always had a food-taster, for as long as I can remember.” “It’s a commonly instituted custom in the Land of Water,” Oda defended.  “One that I insist that my Lord practice at all times.” “It’s nothing personal, I assure you,” Asaito added. “They speak the truth, Father, Mother,” Miriyume vouched, as she sipped her tea.  Kakashi watched as she closed her eyes as she drank and swallowed.... like she was kissing the teacup.  He followed the exquisite contraction of her neck muscles....savored the gentle compression of her full, plum-hued lips to clear the moisture that had remained there.  “Everyone is paranoid.” “A habit born of the days of the Bloody Mist Academy, no doubt...” Kakashi offered, forgetting his stoicism for a moment.  Hiruzen shot him a concerned look.  Honor guards were only supposed to speak when directly addressed. “No doubt,” Miriyume granted with a nod. Hiruzen looked to the Oda and Asaito, correctly intuiting the spirit of Kakashi’s observation.  Oda was scowling.  Asaito’s face still bore that neutral smile, but his eyes seemed to grow a few shades darker, as he turned his attention to Hatake. Gods.  Of all the times for ‘Cold-Blooded Kakashi’ to warm up!  He could at least have the sense to hide these feelings in the presence of this notoriously mistrusting, and ever calculating man!  Time for a strategic conversation shift... “Has the Lord Tsuroyuni ever been to the Land of Fire, before now?” the Hokage asked, drawing Asaito’s predatory gaze away from his jonin.  The wait staff began to serve the soup course. “No, I have not,” Asaito answered.  “As a member of the First Caste, I am kept busy with administration duties.  I rarely have the chance to travel.” “Is that to say that you will be denying my daughter a proper Honeymoon?” Ryuumaru asked sternly.  “Shimogakuran’s take such decisions as an ill omen.” Oda lowered his head, and muttered softly in Hiruzen’s direction: “What don’t you take as an ill-omen...?” “Not at all,” Asaito smiled, after he flashed his monk a venomous glare.  “It will just be within the confines of our large and varied landscape.  There are several options that I’ve considered...” Miriyume gave a loud, exasperated sigh from across the table, and bit the inside of her lower lip, creating the most beautiful pout that Kakashi had ever seen.  “And here I was hoping for the Thousand Tongues....” Her father choked on his tea.  Wakame’s jaw dropped.  Her mother blushed and censured her with her own name.  Kakashi was struck numb, and nearly fell over.  Gekido, of course, erupted into laughter. “Um....Miri-chan...?” Matsuko was very confused.  “Did you just say...?” The Inuzuka won back the struggle to speak momentarily; “That’s probably....a discussion that you should have....at another time...!”  He shrieked the last part, and lost himself to laughter all over again. Aoseishin whined in confusion. Asaito looked pleasantly amused, raising a perfectly arched eyebrow. “I’m talking about a resort in the Kingdom of the Moon, you perverts!” Miriyume snapped. “Oh, thank Naru-kami....” Ryuumaru sighed. “It’s a series of sacred pools, connected by waterfalls,” the storm sage continued, “...which are said to be so naturally aerated that soaking in them feels like a thousand little tongues, licking your entire body.” There, Ice Flame thought inwardly.  That should cement his attention... “That’s still hardly a fitting subject for dinner, my dear,” Renara scolded gently. “Sounds like an experience I need,” Kurenai chuckled. “I may have to arrange a holiday for myself,” Hiruzen smiled up at the astute jonin, then regarded Kakashi, who still seemed to be reeling from Miriyume’s initial pronouncement. That was the Hatake clan for you: Excellent ninja, deplorable social skills.  No mystery as to why the clan was so small in number... “Kakashi,” the Hokage whispered softly, attempting to pull his eyes away from the Lady Ice Flame.  Perhaps he should have gone with a genin honor guard instead... “So....you’re Kakashi?” Asaito began, on hearing the Hokage’s attempt at discretion.  “Oda-sama has told me that you have done the Land of Water a great service, by ridding us of a certain notorious swordsman....?” “It is true,” Kakashi answered, and turned his Sharingan on Asaito’s burgundy eyes.  “Zabuza Momochi is no more.” “I am glad to hear of it,” Asaito returned flatly.  “The Demon of the Mist was....troublesome.” The Sharingan told him that he wasn’t lying.  It also told him that this man was far more dangerous than Zabuza ever had been.  The brief glimpse into his eerie eyes had landed him on the edge of a yawing chasm of utter void.  Bereft of love, hate, or emotion at all.  It was a coldness that had no place in the human heart.  Kakashi nearly shuddered in response. “Oda-sama also tells me that you have balked at the mention of a reward, but, I am a man of–“ he flicked his cold, cruel eyes at Miriyume briefly–“no ‘little’ means,” he announced playfully.  “Name your prize, and it is yours.” Kakashi was scowling so hard beneath his mask that his mouth and cheeks ached with the unconscious exertion.  The expression was fast creeping into his eyes. How dare he! Calling him out in front of his Hokage....in front of Miriyume, he seethed inwardly.  It was a stinging insult to shinobi character to insist that one fought only for money or reward! This scum wasn’t worthy of the title of jonin, or even shinobi.  And he certainly didn’t merit the Lady Ice Flame. “There is nothing I want that is in your power to give,” Kakashi carefully replied, and resumed his stoic posture. “Kakashi is a man of modest means, Lord Asaito,” Hiruzen placated, as he finished his bowl of miso and leek, “...and great integrity.  His devotion to duty is unparalleled in Konohagakure....” “...and as I said before,” Kakashi commandeered, to Sarutobi’s chagrin, “The safe return of my students was all the reward that I required.  So, please, stop offering.” “Very well, I tried,” Asaito sighed, and threw up his hands as the soup bowls were cleared. “Every man to his own peculiarities,” Ryuumaru observed aloud, and smiled warmly at Kakashi.  “ So long as they don’t harm anyone.  And I have the highest admiration for a shinobi who puts such importance on the welfare of their team, so I’ll be pouring you a cup of my private reserve whiskey later...and don’t you dare refuse me!” “I wouldn’t dream of it,” Kakashi returned, and reflexively looked to Miriyume–who was looking back, and with a rather wide-eyed expression.  Her arrested attention sent a twinge of electricity through his nerves, making him stagger a little. “You...and your team killed Zabuza?” Miriyume asked gently. “We...ushered him, and Haku, to their graves, my lady,” Kakashi replied even softer. She looked up to Matsuko and Gekido in turn, as if sharing a poignant collective memory.  “We tangled with them...a couple of times.  Only narrowly avoiding disaster.  I believe I’ll be drinking a toast to you as well...” Kakashi felt the tingling touch of her ambient chakra as she willed a luminescent ribbon his way.  His left eye permitted him to see it as it wound about his chest, emulating a hug.  He sighed in its embrace, at it infused him with renewed energy and hope.  Had the ‘kraken incident’ been forgiven? He’d send the remaining Seven Swordsmen single-handedly to their graves if it would win him more of her approval. The moment of private ecstasy was thwarted by Asaito:  “Which reminds me....” commanding the room’s attention, as the main course was brought out.  “I have very special gift for us alone to share, my darling.”  He then gestured to one of his guards. The man produced a blue glass wine bottle, painted with water lilies, and held it cradled in his hands as if it were a sacred object. “This,” Asaito continued, “...is a very rare, and very good bottle of Kirian sparkling wine, crafted by the famed winery of the Rolling Fog islands, set down in the time of the Nidame Mizukage.  Only a handful remain, and I’d like to share this one with you, my sparkling diamond of the Frost.” All eyes watched as the bottle was reverently opened, and poured into first Asaito’s crystal glass, and then Miriyume’s.  Both raised their goblets in salute to one another. “Kanpai!” Asaito began, and drank deeply while keeping his eyes on Miriyume, savoring the taste of the liquid, and the image of the woman equally. “Kanpai!” she echoed, clearly intrigued by the fizzy drink.  She brought the glass to her lips, but a swift hand snatched it away before it made contact.  She turned to confront the thief, but Gekido had already finished half of it. “You know,” handing the remainder of the wine back to an irate Miriyume, “...that is really good!”  He then turned a fierce glare upon Asaito, and added: “Nothing personal!”

[ladyiceflame-blog]

When it all began....

“Would you release this ‘Pervy Scarf Jutsu’ already?!”

“I don’t have a ‘Pervy Scarf Jutsu’!”

[ladyiceflame-blog]

Me: "So, is anyone reading this fan-fic novellette I've been posting bit by bit?"'

The Yawning Chasm of the Tumblr Void: ....

Me: "K', just wondering..." (continues to compulsively create)

[ladyiceflame-blog]

An Inconvenient Wedding

Chapter Nine: Ascending Despair

Gekido exhaled the final drag of his latest cigarette, as he scowled down upon the creepy monk-messenger from Asaito’s camp.  He’d spent a good chunk of his life in the company of various mystic sorts, and that man had nothing in common with any of them. “That ‘monk’ is about as holy as a barley farmer’s language during a bad harvest...” Matsuko opined, as he stood beside him and Aoseishin on the thick branch in the upper canopy of a camphor tree.  Matsuko would know, being the son of a barley farmer. “The more I learn, the less I like this arrangement,” Gekido admitted softly, crumbling the remnants of his spent cigarette between his fingers.  “Are these new accords really worth all of this?” “Renara-sama seems to believe so,” Matsuko returned.  “And she would never risk her daughter’s safety for anything short of dire.” Gekido sighed, and crouched down to scratch Aoseishin under the chin.  “This is getting weirder than the ‘Desert Rose Affair,’” he grumbled. “Did she bring that dress?” Matsuko asked, a note of dread in his voice. “Dress?!” the other scoffed.  “You mean that net-of-gems?  No.  Not that I’m aware of.  But, that would make one hell of a first impression at dinner, wouldn’t it?” he laughed. “...And give Ryuumaru-sama a heart-attack...” Matsuko chuckled, as they all leapt back to the floor of the small forest.  They weren’t alone... “A gem-dress?” Naruto queried immediately.  “That sounds expensive...and uncomfortable!” Gekido snorted.  “In ways you can’t even begin to imagine yet, kid.”  His friendly tone suddenly shifted to serious.  “So, how long have you guys been eavesdropping on us, Hata-kami?!” “Its Hatake...” Kakashi corrected. “Whatever!” Gekido retorted.  Aoseishin supported him with a growl.  Both were a little testy about not having sensed the presence of the four below them. “We haven’t dropped anything!” Naruto countered.  Sakura did a face-palm.  Sasuke huffed his annoyance. “Naruto, do us all a favor and stop talking....” the Uchiha sternly advised. Kakashi had initially set out to tail the monk, but had decided to follow the duo’s stealthy progress through the trees instead.  Why would Miriyume’s team mates feel the need to secretly observe her fiance’s delegate?  “My team and I were merely making our rounds, as per our custom when providing security.  Your lack of vigilance and candor is your own fault.” “Just as your lack of courtesy is yours,” Matsuko countered.  “You were hired by the Shimokhan to watch others, not us.  Let’s go, Gekido, Ao...” he prompted, as he began to head back toward the Frost encampment. A strange, icy tingle shot up Kakashi’s spine, and scattered against the inside of his cranium:  a clear warning from his unconscious self.  Ignoring it had always had horrible consequences. “Wait!  Please....” Kakashi implored, moving to obstruct their exit.  “I’d like to discuss some things with you.” “What ‘things’, exactly?” Gekido demanded. “Some security issues....tomorrow’s rough agenda....” Kakashi vamped. “Priestess Knock-Out...” Naruto added, before being cuffed on the ear. “What was the ‘Desert Rose Affair’?” Sakura asked, eyes aglow with curiosity. Matsuko’s serene smile returned in response to her girlish charm.  “It was a mission we did quite awhile ago...in the Land of Wind.  The Lady Ice Flame used her various....talents, to catch the attentions of a powerful man who had stolen a daughter of our Daimyo...” “Miriyume-sama was engaged once before?!” Sakura gasped. “No,” Matsuko replied back, softly but sternly, as he glanced about them, clearly concerned about other ears. “That man never had marriage on his mind,” Gekido chuckled.  “He was more of a....collector, you could say...” “Priestess Knock-Out was part of a harem?!?” Naruto blurted. “Briefly...” Gekido looked suddenly sheepish. “Until we rescued her,” Matsuko added cautiously. “After we sold her,” Gekido smirked. Kakashi’s lone eye easily communicated his confusion.  “You...’sold’ her...?” “That seems to be a severe lapse in your renowned ‘teamwork’....” Sasuke added. “It’s a complicated story...best told at another time,” Matsuko settled.  “But if you wish to talk further, regarding current events, let us find some other place to do it.” “Like our ‘Bachelor’s Yurt’,” Gekido suggested.  “That’s private, and we need to change into our ‘formal wear’ for tonight’s dinner, anyway.” Miriyume’s team mates led them to a round, small pavilion, set only a short distance away from the Bridal one.  Despite the matching exterior of its neighbor, the interior of this tent seemed more sparse than Team Seven’s own temporary quarters.  And it smelled distinctly of ‘bachelor’.  And dog.  Sakura wrinkled her nose slightly, as she took a seat on a foot locker. “So...” Matsuko began, as he started to shed his boiled hide, banded shinobi armor.  “What do you want to talk about?” “Have any of you even met this Asaito creep before?!?” Naruto began passionately.  “Has Lady Knock-Out?” “We may have,” Gekido answered.  “We’re not really sure.  The Land of Water has too many island prefectures for me to remember, all with their own little lords,” shedding his fur-trimmed jacket, and regarding his scruffy face in a full-length mirror.  “But he certainly seems to remember her.  And the Freewind Star.” “What is the Freewind Star?” Sasuke asked. “That was a ship that we used to sail with for awhile,” Matsuko returned, looking a touch wistful.  “With Captain...Kintsuki....”  He said the last name with difficulty, and reverence. “One hell of a man,” Gekido added somberly, and he groomed his fashionable stubble.  “One hell of a few years.” Aoseishin even gave a sympatric-sounding whine. “Will this Captain Kintsuki be here for the wedding?” Naruto asked. Gekido sighed heavily, and looked wearily at Matsuko. Matsuko acknowledged his team mate’s mood, and turned to the members of Team Seven:  “He would have been.  But, we’re still not in the habit of saying his name aloud anymore.” Sakura gasped softly, covering her mouth, realizing at once what had transpired.  Sasuke and Kakashi bowed their heads slightly in apology.  Naruto was lost. “So...he’s not—“ the Uzumaki continued, before Sakura elbowed him, and fiercely whispered in his ear: “The captain is dead, you idiot!  Stop asking!” Naruto blanched at his failure to comprehend.  He looked to Kakashi, and felt a small bond of sympathy form from mutual misunderstanding.  Foreign relations were tricky, indeed. “...Anyway,” Matsuko resumed the initial line of questioning, “Lord Asaito saw Miri-chan aboard the Star, and was apparently rather taken with her.  Enough so to send a letter to her father, requesting her hand in marriage.” “So Miriyume-sama’s never met him, either?” Sakura factored aloud, as Matsuko and Gekido shook their heads.  “Why would she agree to marry a man she doesn’t know?” “Out of a sense of duty, of course,” Gekido returned.  “This ceremony will bring our country stronger ties with the Land of Water.” “But that’s not what marriage is supposed to be about!” Naruto raged, glaring at the Inuzuka.  “It’s supposed to be about love!” Sasuke scoffed.  “What would you know about it?” Naruto turned his angry eyes on his team mate.  “At least I know that I’m capable of love, unlike someone I could mention!” “Naruto!” Sakura snapped.  “Sasuke can love!” “When I choose to...” Sasuke added coldly, chilling Sakura’s heart a little. Naruto scoffed at the Uchiha’s statement.  “Heh.  Love doesn’t work that way, Uchiha.  At least, not for normal people...” Sasuke drew up menacingly beside his team mate-rival, both of his eyes flashing red.... Kakashi clamped hands on the tops of their heads, and pried them both roughly apart. “Whoa...!” Matsuko chuckled, fielding the Uchiha to a gentle stop before he landed against him.  “Save that energy for the Last Night’s revel...” “The...what?” Sakura asked. “You know....” Gekido prompted, as he pulled off his mesh-armor shirt, then nearly undid his pants in front of her.  He stopped, and pulled a privacy curtain.  “...the big party that happens the night before a couple gets married....?  Tonight’s that night.” “You mean, a stag-party?” Naruto asked, divesting himself of a couple of dirty socks that had clung to him when he landed in a large pile of dirty laundry. “Well, stag and stag-ette,” Matsuko returned, as he pulled on the standard uniform of Shimogakure’s chunin-ranked ninja, consisting of a short, grey, leather deel, trimmed in black fur, bearing the snowflake emblem of the Village Hidden in the Frost on its left sleeve, black leggings, grey, leather boots trimmed in black fur, and a matching shepherd’s hat.  A forehead protector, engraved with the snowflake symbol, completed the ensemble.  “We party together.” “I think they’re a bit young, don’t you?” Kakashi censured. “For drinking, yeah,” Matsuko answered, lacing up his closed toe boots, which seemed to be the inspiration behind Miriyume’s own footwear, “But being sober will just give them an edge in the games that we’ll be playing.” “Another wild night?” Kakashi sounded critical.  “On the eve of such a....momentous occasion?”  He still couldn’t bring himself to call it a wedding. “Especially on the eve of such a ‘momentous occasion’!” Gekido riposted, emerging from behind the curtain, wearing the same thing as Matsuko.  “Its Miri-chan’s last night of true freedom....and it will be epic.” “Is the Lord Asaito going to be there?” Kakashi asked in a clipped manner, watching the Inuzuka as he preened before the mirror. “He’s invited,” Matsuko answered.  “But given his track record so far, probably not.  He seems to be allergic to drinking and dancing.” “There will be dancing?” Sakura asked, eyes widening. “Of course there’ll be dancing!”  Gekido turned to answer her, taking her hand and swinging her into a quick spin across the room.  “We always dance.  I personally never trust a man who doesn’t!” Kakashi reached out, and spun Sakura back to his side. Gekido was now literally dancing around the issues that he really wanted to address here.  Did they think nothing of their comrade’s safety?  Their overly casual attitudes regarding her were beginning to wear on him.  “And I don’t trust any graduate from the Bloody Mist!  They are bred to kill friends as easily as foes.  Not to mention the nasty tendency of even civilians of the Land of Water to murder anyone possessing a kekkei genkai!  You say that you’ve spent years wandering those islands.  Surely you must know these things, and yet, you do nothing to prevent Miriyume from proceeding with this...absurd, poorly researched union?!” Matsuko moved to stand before Kakashi, measuring his plainly troubled aspect with his calm, hazel eyes.  “The Land of Water is a dangerous land, with a vicious and bloody past.  But its in the past.  The new Mizukage is working hard to move beyond that horrible history, and lead her people into a better future.  We have been witness to her efforts.” “What’s more, Miriyume-sama, like her father, and brother, before her, have made ally-gathering a personal mission,” Gekido added.  “And when Miri-chan sets her mind to something–“ ”Neither heaven nor hell will stop her,” Matsuko finished.  “She has accepted this man’s proposal.  There is nothing we can do or say to stop her.” “So....” Sakura began, “No one is forcing her into this?” Gekido laughed.  “No one ‘forces’ Miri-chan into anything!  Not her parents, not her teachers...not even the Frost Daimyo!” “And certainly no Anbu captain,” Kakashi regaled softly. “Especially one who refuses to take off his mask,” Matsuko added with a smile. Kakashi’s eye went wide in surprise at the rejoinder.   “Yeah, we remember you,” Gekido smirked, “...and your little kabuki troupe.” “Kabuki troupe...?” Naruto echoed, confused. “It’s a....long story...” his sensei dismissed. The sound of a small gong right outside caused everyone to pause.  Team Seven collectively jumped. “Is everyone decent in there?” a chirpy woman’s voice called from the entrance. “You should know by now, Wakame-san, that Gekido is never decent,” Matsuko returned, prompting the entry of Shimogakure’s chief advisor.  She was openly surprised at Team Seven’s presence. “Hatake-san!  There you are!  The Hokage has been looking for you!” Wakame informed. Naruto chortled.  “Kaka-sensei’s in trouble!” in a sing-song taunt. “Why?  What’s happened?!” Kakashi demanded. “A dinner invitation!” Wakame countered, in playful menace.  “Hiruzen-sama is expected to dine with the bride and groom tonight, and will require a pair of personal guards....for purposes of pure formality, only, of course.”  She turned to Matsuko and Gekido.  “Well now, you two almost look respectable!  Are you ready to escort the Lady Ice Flame?” “As ready as we’ll ever be, I suppose,” Matsuko answered.  “What’s being served tonight?” “Miri-chan on a silver platter...” Gekido quipped, before Akiyama could answer. Matsuko turned, performed a trio of hand jutsu, and stamped his foot, sending a surgically localized Earth Wave technique at his crass team mate.  Gekido fell like a house of cards in a tremor. “We’ll be having roast duck, with matsutake mushrooms, scallions, and root vegetables,” she smiled back at the more gentlemanly of the duo.  “Dessert will be Flame on the Iceberg, of course.” “Of course,” Matsuko agreed, as Wakame left.  He then turned to Kakashi: “See you in about an hour.” Kakashi nodded, gathered his charges, and took his leave. “Its official, Earthquake,” Gekido began, as he stood, and re-doffed his fur-trimmed hat.  “This is crazier than the Desert Rose Affair...”

In the grander pavilion next door, Miriyume was giving her mother’s handmaiden a colorful piece of her mind in regards to her kimono: “....and this bedamned obi!” she snapped, as she twisted in obvious discomfort. “Do you not like the ‘taiko style’ knot?” the younger woman, a oddly awkward, yet elegant creature named Nori, asked. “Its too tight! I can barely breathe!” Miriyume complained, clutching the edge of the vanity table she was sitting at.  “You’ve bound me up in so many layers of silk and satin, and hidden away all of my....assets!  The man can’t hunger if he can’t see the feast!” pulling angrily at her high collar in misplaced rage. “But tradition states that–“ Nori began. “To hell with tradition!” scowling into her mirror image.  “I don’t want to look regal....I want to look good enough to eat!” “Not the best choice of words, my dear,” the Heron Sage Priestess counseled as she glided serenely into her daughter’s curtained chamber. “I am sorry, Mother, but so much is riding on this.  We need to bait the hook as best we can,” Miriyume apologized, as Nori began to loosen parts of her attire. “You worry needlessly,” Renara soothed, stroking her daughter’s elaborately coiffed, fiery hair.  “Asaito would marry you even if we presented you in your Father’s armor...after a long sea voyage.” Miriyume laughed at that.  There wasn’t much that could compare to that particular brand of stench.  “I don’t think we should test that theory...” Renara leaned down to regard Miriyume’s reflection alongside her.  “How is it that my radiant little storm-angel can still carry such doubts about herself?  After all of this time?  You draw people, Miri-chan, like the full moon draws the tides.” “There are plenty of wayward currents that escape my influence, Mother,” Miriyume rebutted, as she applied a sparkling amber dust powder to her neck and cheeks.   <Like that damned Kakashi, she raged inwardly.  And his infernal masks!  How dare he keep refusing her!  And he had to choose NOW to re-enter her life... Why did she always fall for the sadistic ones?> “Only because they haven’t met you yet,” Renara smiled, kissing her temple, and standing back up to her full height.  “Asaito is all too keen, do not worry.  His attendant monk has made that abundantly clear.  And there are two other easily read gentlemen who would pledge their lives to you in an instant, if you asked them.” “As I would do for them the moment we became a team....” Miriyume reminded. “I’m not talking about Gekido and Matsuko...” Renara smiled impishly. “But, Kaka-sensei....its not fair!” Naruto raged petulantly, back in the shelter of their own tent.  “First, you say we can’t go to the big party, and now, we can’t even go to the fancy dinner?!” He’d been whining ever since leaving the ‘Bachelor’s Yurt,’ like a mosquito in his ear.  As if he were the only person in the world who had been let down... “Naruto!” Kakashi finally snapped, causing all three of his students to jump.  “Life is seldom, if ever, fair!” throwing the comb that he’d been using to tame his unruly hair so hard that it broke against the dresser surface.  “The sooner you learn this....” he forced himself into a softer, but broken-sounding voice, “...the better off you’ll be.” “Kaka-sensei..?” Sakura openly despaired, her eyes going glassy. “I’m–“ Kakashi immediately back-peddled, and reassumed his cool detachment: “I’m sorry.  Forgive me.  I haven’t been....getting much sleep, lately,” turning back to his small mirror, running his long fingers through his silver hair. “This is about the Lady Ice Flame, isn’t it?” Sasuke finally cut through the pretension, “About her getting married to this man.” “I have no idea what you are talking about,” Kakashi returned. Naruto scowled.  Sakura looked hurt. “Lying undermines the trust between teacher and student, you know,” the Uchiha warned.  “You want our trust, don’t you?  Stop lying.” Kakashi sighed.  The boy’s Sharingan was calling him out.  Sakura’s empathy made him feel guilty.  And Naruto just knew too much already.  There was no use hiding from them anymore.  “I do.  But, I don’t want to burden you all with my....disappointments,” turning toward them.  “Mostly with myself.” “When have you ever disappointed anyone, Kakashi-sensei?” Sakura chided. He chuckled at her unabashed faith in him.  “Too many times to count accurately, rest assured.”  He turned toward the entry flap of their tent, and continued: “But we can hardly afford the time to dwell on such regrets, can we, Hiruzen-sama?” The Hokage took his cue to step inside the threshold.  “No, we certainly can’t.  At least, not for the next day or so.  However charming our Shimogakuran guests are, we cannot be remiss in our contracted duties in security.  Tonight’s dinner shall be especially important, as the bride and groom shall be meeting each other for the first time, face-to-face.” Naruto openly scorned.  “Hopefully she won’t lose her appetite...” Hiruzen shot him a look of mild concern.  He’d noticed that the boy had warmed up rather quickly to Miriyume.  But then, such was to be expected of distant relations, he supposed. “That is my hope as well, Naruto-san,” the Hokage returned, before addressing Kakashi again: “Kurenai-san and I are ready.  Do not keep us waiting long,” and exited. Naruto groaned, and fell back onto his cot.  “Not another night of guarding the Daimyo....  He’s so...boring!” “He is very gossipy,” Sakura agreed.  “For having so many advisors, you’d think he would have better information.” “You won’t be tethered to the Daimyo’s side tonight,” Kakashi announced, as he used a kunai to prick his finger, and summoned Pakkun.  “I want you to spy on Asaito’s encampment.” “Yes!” Naruto leapt up, and joined the huddle around the dour-looking ninken. “Learn whatever you can, but be extra careful,” Kakashi instructed.  “No one has been allowed to so much as set a foot within their campsite, but with Asaito and that monk being at the dinner, I believe that their security might be a little more relaxed.” “I know that I can sneak into the heart of that place without detection,” Sasuke promised. “I can, too!” Naruto snapped back, peevishly. “Whatever the plan: Don’t.  Get.  Caught,” Kakashi stressed.  “It would be enormously damning for the Land of Fire, revealing our clear distrust of a potential ally.” “Do not worry, Kakashi,” Pakkun assured.  “I will keep your pups out of trouble.” The trio of students were struck agape at the talking dog. “I know,” Kakashi smiled and stood.  “Happy recon,” he wished, before exiting the tent.

[ladyiceflame-blog]

An Inconvenient Wedding:

Chapter Eight: The Wild Storm and the Serene Sage

The reintegration of a dismissed Shadow Clone had proven to be a little disorienting in the past, but all those times had not prepared Kakashi for the mighty wallop that slammed into his being now. The sudden influx of all that had transpired beneath the water made him gasp, and stagger backward into a group of cooking-nin who were packing up their provisions.  Rice cakes went flying, along with a fair amount of superfluous chakra that he couldn’t absorb. “Kaka-sensei!” Sakura cried out, rushing to his side.  Naruto and Sasuke joined her, showing concern.  “What happened?” Kakashi groaned as he sat up.  His head was spinning.  The sudden knowledge he’d just acquired, and the maelstrom of emotions that had tagged along, were giving him the equivalent of a chakra hang-over. “I’m suddenly feeling a little...woosey, is all...” he excused.  He put his head between his knees to exert control over his nauseous stomach. “Should I find you a medical-nin?” Matsuko asked. “No!” Kakashi snapped, as he sat up.  “No, I just need a moment....” Gekido raised a suspicious eyebrow a split-second before a large, stormy-hued orb of crystal burst from the center of the lake to hover high above it.   “What is that!?!” Naruto openly gawked, squinting at its strange, faceted surface. Gekido sighed.  “That would be Miriyume,” he answered, as the crystal shattered, and the Sage-Priestess was revealed, wreathed in her signature jutsu.  “And she doesn’t look happy....” Matsuko shared a grim smile with the Inuzuka, and their eyes flicked briefly towards Kakashi.   “We’re going to need another wagon of whiskey....” Matsuko sighed, as he watched Miriyume douse her Ice Fire, and begin her descent towards them. “Tch...” Gekido scoffed.  “There isn’t enough whiskey in the world to drowned her ire...”  He turned to Kakashi and his students, assisting his stand.  “You kids might want to back off a bit....” Miriyume touched down, and immediately confronted Kakashi: “So did that eye of yours catch all the details?  Or would you like another demonstration?!” Her eyes were lambent in indignation.  Matsuko and Gekido had hands on her shoulders. “What are you talking about, Miri-chan?  Hata-san’s been up here the whole time.  Who were you with down there?” “Him,” Miriyume returned testily, pointing at Kakashi.  “Or rather, a shadow clone of him.  Just how many filters do you need to put on the world anyway?!” she shouted at the dejected shinobi, amidst the protective circle of his students. “You used a clone on Priestess Knock-Out?” Naruto censured his teacher, giving him a disappointed look. “‘Priestess Knock-Out’...?” Matsuko chuckled at the new epitaph. “It has to do with the way we met,” Miriyume explained. “What is it with you?” Gekido demanded. Miriyume shrugged, still glaring daggers at Kakashi, who refused to meet her gaze. “Was that your Ice Fire technique?” Sasuke dared. “It was,” she replied, her aspect softening a shade. “And that crystal was...ice?” the Uchiha continued, “...frozen from the jutsu?” “You’re a sharp one,” she complimented.  “Ice Fire manifests as a branching plasma, much like a Chidori.  But it burns cold....freezing things if given enough time.  Shattering them if I want.  But it eats up a lot of chakra.” “But that isn’t a problem for you, is it?” Sakura pressed, “With your chakra absorption powers, right?” “True, but using Ice Fire can quickly deplete an environment, if I’m not careful,” Miriyume answered.   “But that’s nothing compared to her Sage Form’s chakra demands,” Gekido added.   “What’s a ‘sage form’, again...?” Naruto asked sheepishly, as Sakura and Sasuke sighed.   “It’s a form that represents the mastery of a senjutsu practitioner over their adopted spirit,” Matsuko continued.  “Usually an animal spirit, but Miri-chan’s priestess training attracted something a little....different.” “Which was..?” Sauske prompted. “A storm-kami,” Kakashi provided, finding his voice again.  “Its believed that she is the only person to have been offered contract with such a spirit.” “Lord Raijin is a fickle god, who had grown bored with his usual celestial duties,” Miriyume illuminated further.  “His patronage of me was born of a rebellious whim.  Nothing more.” “...and this has been another episode of, ‘Overly Modest Miriyume,’” Gekido teased.  “Join us next time, when our heroine declares that she was only suggesting that Kumogakure needed help with their architecture.” “Well, they did!” Miriyume returned. “Especially after you gutted that mansion....” Matsuko chuckled. “Was that during your Chunin Exam?” Sakura asked. “It was shortly afterward,” Lady Ice Flame answered.  “I had been...retained–“ Gekido coughed, and corrected his companion’s story... “–kidnaped–“ ”Fine, kidnaped, by our hosts, in an effort to study my abilities, and it didn’t go as they planned.  They quickly grew...disenchanted with me, like most people...” Her angry eyes once again found Kakashi’s, and easily communicated her ire.  Aoseishin whined at the ambient tension. “I’ll stay enchanted, Knock-Out sama!” Naruto swore.  “Believe it!” Her eyes shifted to Naruto’s smiling face, beaming in bold defiance of the sudden pall that Miriyume wanted to shroud herself in.  Kakashi seemed set in remaining a mystery, but this kid was the welcoming bonfire in broad daylight.  She couldn’t help but be cheered. “Thank-you, Naruto-san,” she said, finding her smile again.  “At least I’ll al—“ Her words were cut short by the sound of a most unusual trumpeting noise, off in the distance.  Her eyes widened, as Matsuko and Gekido snapped alert.  Aoseishin barked. “They’re here!” Miriyume announced joyously, and led her team, along with the majority of people still at the lake, rushing off in the direction of the resonant horn’s second blast. The entire campsite seemed to be in a sudden rush to converge on the Bridal Pavilion of the Frost encampment.  Games were abandoned, food was forgotten.  Even drinks were set aside.  All that seemed to matter at the moment was the arrival of whoever had sounded that horn.  Team Seven managed to keep up with the human tsunami that had resulted. The herald who has sounded the signal of approach was standing at the center of the Frost Camp, and gave one final ringing blast of the strange looking instrument: a long, corkscrew-shaped horn from some unknown animal, as the Wandering Lights Brigade stood nearby.  A formidable-looking man, clad in dark furs, banded shinobi armor, and sporting a rather magnificent helmet with a tuft of eagle feathers at the top, rode up beside them on a sturdy warhorse, and dismounted.  Miriyume wasted no time in launching herself into his arms. “Hello, Father!” she greeted, as he spun her around so fast that her legs swung out nearly parallel to the ground. “Ah, my beautiful daughter!” he acknowledged, and set her back on the ground, keeping her in his embrace.  “The lights of the aurora are still pale imitations of your eyes...” “And the steel in yours remains ever-keen,” she returned. “Here we go...” Gekido sighed dramatically, “The Father-Daughter Poetry Hour...” “Greetings, Shimokhan-sama,” Matsuko acknowledged much more respectfully, with a bow.  “I hope your journey was a peaceful one.” “It was, Matsuko-san,” Ryuumaru Yaseiarashi returned, releasing Miriyume, and giving Gekido a quick slug to the upper arm.  “And I trust all is well here?” “It is, Shimokhan-sama!” a strident voice broke from the gathered crowd, as she power-slid before the leader of Shimogakure.  Wakame Akiyama always took her duties with the utmost seriousness, but her devotion to her job often made her seem ironically comical most of the time.  “All allied nations have sent emissaries, all the ceremony arrangements have been coordinated.  Everyone is fed and sheltered...” “...and the games...and the Light House...?” Ryuumaru pressed. “...have been afoot and running since we put down the first tent pegs!” Wakame declared proudly, as a heavily curtained palanquin was marched up with great ceremony, and set down reverently beside the reunited family.  A hush fell over the crowd that had gathered, as the curtain parted, and a statuesque, regal woman emerged, and approached Miriyume. She had the bearing of an empress: an elegant kimono of palest green, surmounted by a white, hooded cloak, trimmed in plumey gold and silver feathers.  Heron feathers. “Honored Mother,” Miriyume greeted and bowed.  The mysterious woman favored her with a kiss in the middle of her lowered forehead. “Miriyume, my wild one,” the Heron Priestess began in a voice that sounded like the lilting tones of a dove, before looking concerned.  “Are you alright, my dear?  You’re chakra seems a little...agitated.” “I’m fine,” Miriyume insisted.  “We just got done with a game of Kraken, that’s all,” as Matsuko and Gekido approached to give their welcomes.   Her father had moved on to the surrounding crowd, clasping shoulders and reveling in the many familiar faces.  He was a social entity, clearly, who came alive in the company of friends.  And he was always on the look-out for more. Kakashi watched in respectful interest as Miriyume and her Mother continued to reacquaint.  Miriyume was nearly lost in the embracing sleeves of the Heron Priestess’s silken robes.  He felt the ambient warmth of their silent, mutual love for one another.  Despite the heavy cowl of the elder woman’s cloak, and the utter stillness of their faces, they seemed to be communicating volumes. He realized that it was rude to stare, but he couldn’t bring himself to look away.  Such was the empathic grandeur of their bond.  Then, a most terrifyingly beautiful thing happened: Miriyume’s mother turned her half-obscured face his way, and gave him just a hint of a smile, while Miriyume remained motionless. Kakashi was struck with such a profound panic that gravity itself seemed to double-down on him, immobilizing his limbs, turning his blood to a heavy sludge.  He was utterly powerless to do anything, except stand and endure her scrutiny.  He could only compare it to Killing Intent, but without any hint of the malice.  Perhaps it was better called ‘Curious Intent’.  Mercifully, the moment was brief, as the Heron Sage Priestess ushered her daughter into the Bridal Pavilion. It took him a moment to catch his breath.  Medical-nin had never given him such a through sensory exam before. A rough clap to his shoulder removed the last traces of chakra lethargy from him. “There’s a familiar cut to your sails, man,” Miriyume’s father rumbled pleasantly, as he openly assessed the few features Kakashi displayed, “But I’m banjanxed as to why exactly.” “‘Banjanxed’?” Naruto echoed warily. “It means ‘confounded,’ or ‘lost,’ in this sense,” Matsuko explained. “I don’t believe that I’ve had the honor of meeting you yet, Yaseiarashi-sama,” Kakashi began, and gave a polite bow.  “I am Kakashi Hatake, jonin of Konohagakure.  These are my students; Sasuke Uchiha, Sakura Haruno, and Naruto Uzumaki.” Ryuumaru’s icy blue eyes seemed to light up at the mention of the last name.  “Uzumaki, eh?” as he regarded the blond genin.  “I owe all the happiness I’ve found in this world to that name!  Hatake and Uchiha have a familiar ring about them as well....” His musings were cut off by the panicked calls of Wakame Akiyama, as she raced to another impressive power slide before him. “Shimokhan-sama!  The groom’s attendant approaches!” Gekido’s slitted eyes went wide, as he confirmed the new presence with a pronounced sniff of the air.  “In the actual flesh...” he breathed softly.  “About time, eh?” Wakame nodded, as she stood off to his side, as the crowd began to grow quiet and part. The frail-looking man walked with the heavy assistance of an ornate staff.  His skin was sallow, the color of old, forgotten parchment.  His sparse hair seemed oily.  And he was suffused with a strange combination of medicinal smelling herbs.  He wore the humble robes of a monk, and had the beady eyes of a rat. “So,” the ancient looking man began in an unctuous voice, “The future father-in-law has arrived at long last.  My Lord was beginning to wonder.” “Then your Lord has forgotten the itinerary that was sent, which included the arrival of my wife and I.”  He took a moment to pointedly regard the sun’s placement in the sky.  “I’m here early, in fact.” The monk inclined his head in a gesture of apology.  “Please forgive our eagerness.  My Lord forgets much on the cusp of such a momentous occasion.” “....like how to socialize..?” Gekido quipped softly. Wakame shot the Inuzuka a brief scowl before responding.  “It is all too easy for a bride and groom to lose track of things, which is why I am here.  I trust that Asaito-sama is aware of tonight’s dinner plans?” “He is,” the monk returned.  “He is a pious man, but he avidly awaits the presentation of the Lady Ice Flame.  Her beauty is much celebrated.” “...to say nothing of her talents as a shinobi,” Kakashi interjected.  “Miriyume-sama’s fame does not stem solely from one aspect alone.” “Well said, Kakashi!” Ryuumaru smiled broadly. “...and any man who fails to see this does not deserve her,” Kakashi continued. Sakura gasped.  Naruto beamed.  Gekido, Wakame and Matsuko were openly agape.  The monk looked understandably affronted. “I knew I’d like this guy!” Ryuumaru asided to Matsuko, who was still reeling from the sudden need for testimonial from a man who seemed to do nothing but infuriate the very person he was now defending.  “Someone get this man a bottle of my personal reserve whiskey....” Miriyume’s father continued.  The surest way to his heart had always been compliments to his daughter. “I assure you,” the monk resumed, testily, “My Lord is well aware of the multi-faceted talents of the Lady Ice Flame, and is both deserving, and highly desirous, of this union.” The glint in the decrepit man’s eyes as he said the last made Kakashi’s skin crawl, and his Sharingan ache. “She will be treated as a queen, and will want for nothing in my Lord’s care.  His wealth rivals that of even the Water Daimyo, after all.” “Although riches have never factored much in Miriyume’s list of qualifications for a spouse, they do give her parents a definite sense of relief.  We want to see our grandchildren spoiled absolutely rotten!” Kakashi felt nauseous.  He instinctually clutched at his nearby students.  Gekido’s sharp nose caught a whiff of his sudden discomfort. “Come on now, Old Man Yaseiarashi,” Gekido forced a chuckle.  “I don’t think Miri-chan’s wanting to be a mother quite so fast.  Give her a few years for the Honeymoon...” Bile rose at that.  Kakashi choked it back down. “So long as they never have to grow up in the shadows of that Bloody Mist Academy madness, I will be happy,” the Shimokhan concluded.  “I will be seeking personal assurances that that foul school has been permanently dismantled, before long.”  The authoritative tone in his voice turned the statement into a solemn vow.  It made the monk tremble slightly. “Those days are behind us now, as I’m certain that your esteemed daughter and her cadre have learned in their extensive travels in the Land of Water.  For, if it were otherwise, we probably wouldn’t be here.” “The barbarous methods of your Fourth Mizukage resulted in numerous living nightmares that still plague the world,” Matsuko chimed in.  “We ran into a few.” “We just ended one!” Naruto suddenly exclaimed proudly.  “Zabuza and Haku!  In the Land of Waves!  Although, Zabuza seemed to have a change of heart at the end...and Haku didn’t even seem to be all that evil...” “You tangled with the Demon of the Hidden Mist?!?” Gekido gasped. “We buried them,” Kakashi returned.  “It was their first A-Rank mission, actually,” he smiled proudly. “That’s....impressive,” Matsuko admitted.  “That man nearly hacked me in two once.” “We only escaped because of my Wind Wolf technique....” Gekido added. Matsuko gave him a look of patient disbelief. “...and maybe Miri-chan’s Ice Fire helped out a bit...” the Inuzuka amended. “The Land of Water extends its gratitude to you, then,” the monk continued coolly.  “Ridding us of such a criminal.  My Lord will surely want to be generous with a reward...” Kakashi stopped the monk with an upraised hand.  “The survival of my team was reward enough.  Killing Zabuza, in all truth, was not our intended mission.” “Yet, your team rose to the occasion, where all others had failed,” Ryuumaru smiled at the genin.  “This bodes well for their future.”  He placed a firm hand on Kakashi’s taller, more slender shoulder.  “The Hokage was born under fortunate stars, indeed, to have such shinobi.” “Gossip, then Fire-Shadow...” announced a warm, well-seasoned voice from behind, as he moved to embrace an old friend. “Hiruzen!” Ryuumaru welcomed, as he caught the Hokage in a fierce hug.  “Come.  Pour me my first cup of sake of the day!” “Haven’t you eaten breakfast...?” Sarutobi teased, as the two moved off toward the famed sake-tent of Shimogakure, leaving everyone else, including the messenger-monk, in their wake. Following an awkward silence, the monk spoke: “May I know the name of the man who brought an end to the rampage of Zabuza Momochi...?” regarding Kakashi. “Kakashi Hatake, with the heavy assistance of Team Seven,” Kakashi returned, watching the Hokage as he disappeared into the elaborate yurt.  “And if your lord insists on paying out a reward, tell him to send it to the new shinobi academy of Kirigakure.”  He then turned, and began to return to Konoha’s camp.  His students followed. After they had gained some distance, Naruto voiced a complaint: “Why did you refuse the reward?  I could have bought CRATES of ramen!” “Because I refuse to be beholden to that man...ever,” Kakashi shot back. “You could have had it given it to Konoha’s shinobi academy, rather than Kiri’s,” Sasuke suggested, obviously disapproving. “Our academy isn’t trying to rebuild itself from the ground-up,” Kakashi riposted.  “We never forced our students to kill each other for a passing grade.” His usually calm and neutral voice was so cold and full of contempt now.  It sent shivers down his student’s spines. “Do you think Lord Asaito had to kill his classmates?” Sakura asked. “He’s a living shinobi of the Mist, isn’t he?” her sensei replied.  “There can be no doubt.” Miriyume watched in languid lucidity as her mother went about the business of unfurling scrolls, and summoning every conceivable amenity for their tent.  The marble-columned bathing vat seemed especially decadent.   “You’re unusually quiet, my little Stormfly,” Renara Yaseiarashi commented, as she summoned a pot of hot tea and a set of cups.  “I usually have to struggle to get a word in between your stories.  Something is amiss....” “Something’s odd....” accepting a teacup of oolong, “I don’t know if its wrong, necessarily...” Miriyume  answered. “You’ve always been attracted to the mysterious things in life,” Renara smiled as she settled on a cushion beside her daughter.  “I blame myself, partially...” “What are you driving at?”  Miriyume sighed.  Despite her attempts to shield her emotions with her chaotic storm chakra, her mother always found a way to get in her head, and see the things that she tried to desperately hide under the bravado and mirth.  Or maybe Raijin hadn’t been that good of a teacher when it came to mind-barrier technique. So fiery when it came to matters of the heart.  Just like her father, Renara thought inwardly.  Perhaps this wedding wasn’t the right approach to take after all... “I don’t know, you haven’t told me yet,” Renara smiled coyly. Miriyume frowned into her tea.  “There’s nothing to tell.  Just another awkward turn of fate, at exactly the wrong time.” “Sounds newsworthy to me...” “Its no more newsworthy than a young, foreign jonin asking about me in the wake of ‘the Emergence’...” she countered sharply. Renara’s arresting green and gold eyes widened as her daughter gave her a crystal-clear view into what was on her mind. “So, you’ve found him.  Again,” Renara replied cryptically. “Found who?!?” “Your quantum chakra entanglement.” “Are you speaking in tongues now?!” “I thought this might happen....” Renara continued to ramble on, further confounding her daughter.  “Actually, I’m surprised its taken this long for you two to run into each other again, what with your wandering ways...” She was doing it again.  Reading her mind as easily as one of her beloved romance novels, and giving her no insight to her own.  “You know, I’ve suddenly realized....there are moments when you’re as infuriatingly cryptic as HE is!” Miriyume’s chakra flared with her impassioned retort. The Heron Sage just chuckled softly.  She was so like her father....

The grand yurt that housed the Shimogakuran traveling bar, affectionately referred to as the ‘House of Northern Lights (–or, the ‘Light House,’ for short),’ was sent into a welcoming uproar when Ryuumaru and Hiruzen entered.  Mostly due to the former. They were immediately ushered to the best table, and set up with a full array of pickled delicacies, yakatori, and of course, sake.  Following a unanimous toast to the beloved Shimokhan’s health and strength, the two leaders were courteously left to their relative privacy. “Its been awhile, old friend,” Ryuumaru began, lifting his refilled cup in salute to Hiruzen. “That it has,” Sarutobi replied.  “Too long, in fact,” his tone indicating mild censure.  “It seems that your daughter has stolen your wanderlust.” “With no intent on giving it back, either,” the Shimokhan chuckled.  “It seems to be a Yaseiarashi trait.” “Although, she never seems to wander my way, much.  Not like you used to.” “Most of her efforts have been focused on the eastern lands.  The Land of Water, in particular.  The loss of their jinkuriki, and the instability of their government has turned all to chaos down there.  Yet, Miri-chan has found bastions of hope amidst it.  But they need help in maintaining it.  Outside help.  Again, Hiruzen-sama, thank-you for being here.” “All you have to do is ask, Ryuumaru-kun, and I’ll lend whatever aid I can.  Your heroism during the Third Shinobi War has earned you, at the very least, that.” “Well, I’m officially calling in all favors.  My little Stormfly will be kept safe.  I still can’t believe that she orchestrated this....” “I still can’t believe that you went along with it!” “If anything happens to her...” the gruff-looking man’s eyes grew glassy, as he focused on some imagined horrible event. “Nothing will happen, Ryuumaru!  How could it?” Hiruzen reassured.   The Shimokhan forced a chuckle as he turned back from his bleak thoughts.  “Well, I’ve just learned that tempting fate is best avoided.  And hopefully, Miri-chan has learned this earlier than I have.” “She’s an extraordinary kunoichi, and a formidable girl, besides.  I can easily see that Uzumaki heritage, right on the surface.” “Yes,” Ryuumaru removed his helmet, and scratched at the back of his neck.  “Strange to think how the bringer of that heritage is so calm and collected by comparison.” “Mita-sama was a serene woman as well,” the Hokage reminded.  “They can’t all be spitfires.” “Thanks be to the gods!” Ryuumaru declared.  “But don’t let that red-tipped hair of hers fool you, she draws quite a bit of that fire from the Yaseiarashi Clan as well.  Its actually a small wonder that she didn’t self-combust upon her entry into this world.” “The world needs those kinds of fires,” Hiruzen mused.  “To pull the rest of us out of the shadows.” “...Just as we need the faithful fire-tenders, to keep us from blazing out of control, and burning all that we love on accident.” “Did we just quote your wedding vows...?” “Um...perhaps?  I wasn’t completely sober that day...” Hiruzen laughed.  “I think we all realized that when you tried to tackle the pine tree because it ‘looked at you funny’!  Poor Renara-sama was mortified....” “But it was too late!  Everyone had drank the final cup, and the gods had smiled.  She was mine!” the Shimokhan bragged. “And I’ve never known her to regret it, you ridiculously fortunate, whiskey-steeped, old sod!”

[ladyiceflame-blog]

Chapter Seven: Playing with Ice Fire

Naruto had devoured three grilled fish, a bowl of natto, three bowls of miso soup, and was on his second bowl of steamed rice by the time Kakashi emerged from their shared tent.  And although he’d hardly thought it possible, his sensei’s lone, exposed eye looked more sullen than ever, as he took his seat at Konoha’s outdoor breakfast table. Perhaps he should have let him snuggle him a little more before panicking... Beyond the sheltering trees that ringed this clearing, the sound of deep drums, sonorous horns, stringed instruments, and good-natured commotion drifted into their camp.  Kakashi recognized this music.  Had it followed him from dreams into the waking world?  It seemed to be emanating from the small lake in the northeast of the grounds. “Good morning, Kakashi!” Kurenai greeted, obviously in higher spirits than he was.  “You were out rather late last night.  Did you find another obscure Shimogakuran sport to dominate?” she asked, sipping her tea. “No,” he returned numbly, as a bowl of miso and a plate of grilled salmon were set before him.  “But I did find a small hot spring bath house, just a little east of here, run by some farmers.” “Really?” his fellow jonin smiled brightly.  “I might have to steal Sakura and Hinata for a little ‘Girl Time,’ before the ceremony.  We need to look our best for the Lady Ice Flame, after all...” “I would like the chance to wash my hair properly,” Sakura admitted.  “Maybe have one of you pin it up in a nicer style.  I wish I’d brought something better to wear...” “Cleanliness is most appreciated,” Hiruzen began, “But please keep in mind that we are here to provide security, not to indulge our personal vanities.  But the Shimokhan and the Heron Sage-Priestess are due to arrive today, so do look your best.” “Lady Ice Flame’s parents?” Hinata asked. “Yes,” Hiruzen smiled.  “Her mother is renowned for her serenity and grace.  Her father...his bravery and loyalty.  They are both dear friends of mine whom I rarely get to see anymore.” “Well,” Kiba began, feeding his ninken the head and tail of his salmon portion, “Akamaru and I will be taking our baths in the lake.  Cold water sharpens the senses...clears the head!” Kakashi tried to suppress a shudder, as he opened his Icha-Icha Paradise novel to shield his mouth as he ate.  “You’re not alone in that belief, but I am not among them.” “You might be a fan of the Shimogakuran purification ritual then, Kiba,” Hiruzen began, his crinkled face brightening with a smile, born of some remembered amusement. “What is that?” the Inuzuka asked. “An ancient rite of deep, soulful cleansing that I had the honor of participating in–only once, with Ryuumaru Yaseiarashi himself, many years ago.  It is a serious test of one’s stamina, meant for only those of the strongest mettle.” “Then count me in, Old Man Hokage!” Naruto exclaimed.  “Where do I sign up?” “Hey!” Kiba commandeered, “Take a number, Uzumaki!  I get to go first!” “You don’t even know what it involves yet, Kiba,” Shino cautioned. “Doesn’t matter!” Kiba riposted. “I doubt anyone will be partaking anytime soon, being as how there is no snow,” Hiruzen chucked at the genin’s eagerness.  “But Shimogakurans are known for their resourcefulness.  If I hear otherwise, I’ll be sure to let you both know about it.” “–Wait a minute....” Naruto looked suddenly sheepish, “Did you say, ‘snow’?” “I did,” the Hokage smiled.  “You can’t have a Shimogakuran Sweat Lodge without it.  Still interested...?” “Yes!” Kiba exclaimed.  Akamaru gave a small whine. “Very well,” Hiruzen continued.  “You go into a cedar-paneled sauna room, usually as a group, and settle into meditation, breathing in the heady vapors created by various herbs that have been added.  Then, someone gets it in their head to start smacking you with a birch branch. Then  you return the favor, until nearly everyone is about to pass out from the heat and exertion.  Then someone opens the door, you all run outside and roll in the snow until you feel the need to warm back up by returning to the sauna, and do it all over again, and again, and again, until exhausted.  Once was enough for me.” “That’s madness...” Sasuke opined, picking at his fish. “I’ve heard that drinking heavily helps out immensely,” Sarutobi chuckled. “So, this isn’t a ‘family event’...?” Kurenai broached. “On the contrary, kids often attend their parents in these things.  They just don’t drink.” the Hokage answered.  “Little Lady Ice Flame was particularly enamored of chasing around her parents and brother...and anyone else with a birch switch...” “Wait...” Kakashi paused in his eating and replaced his mask, “She has a brother?” Hiruzen was struck solemn for a moment.  “Had.  He is no longer of this world.  I thought you knew this, Kakashi.” “How could I know this?” Kakashi demanded.   “Because you were in Shimogakure the night he died.  The night Miriyume’s Renkingen became active.” All eyes were fixed on Kakashi now, and he was at a complete loss for words or even thoughts.  What was Hiruzen saying?!? The Hokage sighed heavily.  “I can see by your expression that this is news to you, which I must admit, puzzles me, but I will try to explain as best, and as quickly as I can.  And please, do not breathe a word of this to any Shimogakuran, as speaking of dead, or misfortune, is believed to be an ill omen.  And this pain, in particular, runs deep: Miriyume-sama is the second child born to the Shimokhan, Ryuumaru Yaseiarashi, and the Heron Sage-Priestess, Renara.  The first was Ryuuyuki, the first to possess the Renkingen in over one hundred and fifty years.  It can only manifest in those whose blood can be traced to both Hagoromo and Hamura, and has access to incredible amounts of chakra. Its power allowed him to become one of the rarest classes of shinobi; the reviver-type, and the most powerful oni-taiji I’ve ever known.” “A demon-hunter?!” Kakashi gasped.  “Like that North Wind character?” “He was that North Wind character,” the Hokage clarified gravely.  “Did you ever meet him?” “No,” Kakashi bowed his head in respect.  He had heard stories of this man all his life.  Sakumo had raved about seeing the Tiger-Sage in action a couple of times.  He had compared his grace to that of the wind over the barley field. This had been her brother?!?  “But my father spoke of him.  He admired his sword technique.” “Ryuumaru traveled far and wide, sealing many demons, and strengthening ties with many lands in his short life-span.  He was virtuous, strong, clever, and a source of great pride for his family, but perhaps none so much as for his sister.  She clung to him so fiercely, and deeply resented his absences.  He was her best teacher.  From him, she learned swordplay, fuinjutsu, senjutsu....and a charming generosity with her overflow chakra.  They were both blessed with such magnetic natures.  You couldn’t help but fall in love with them.  And his cool demeanor was the perfect compliment to her fiery temperament.” Sasuke suddenly looked more interested. “I’m not certain of all the details myself, but the famed North Wind met his end somewhere in the Land of Hot Water, very near the same time as the mission that led you to Shimogakure, Kakashi.   Being a sage trained at the Cat Fortress, his personal summon, Prince Tosho, relayed the news of his passing to his family.  And that’s when Miriyume’s own Renkingen was activated, and she, in keeping with her father’s side’s engendered curse, went berserk.” “Is the Alchemist’s Eye a dojutsu that is linked with one’s emotional state, like the Sharingan?” Sasuke asked. “It certainly seems that way,” the Hokage continued.  “Ryuuyuki’s awakened while protecting Miriyume.”  He paused a moment, and cleared his throat. “In an explosion of suddenly-gained power, she put half the village into a chakra-coma that lasted an entire day.  Two days later, she was finally tracked to the ruin of an ancient, infernal temple.  She was covered in blood, ashes, and quite mad; utterly transformed under the watchful and concerned eye of the storm kami that adopted her in her own senjutsu training, and Prince Tosho, who had led her there.  According to North Wind’s famed white tiger, she had, ‘finished what Ryuuyuki had begun’.” “It took her mother nearly a season to bring her back to some sense of sanity, and the instruction of a kami, and the memories of a lost brother, to get a handle on her newly emerged dojutsu.  Her life’s path had taken a new turn, as she took on the mantle that Ryuuyuki had left behind.  She was no longer merely the storm sage-priestess who had befriended a minor god, she was now the Lady Ice Flame who had sundered an unholy temple at the heart of a mountain with a frightening new jutsu.  It was a dark time for Shimogakure, generally referred to as ‘The Year of Unspoken Hell’.” “So that’s how I lost track of—“ Kakashi blurted aloud, before stopping abruptly. “Lost track of what?” Sakura asked. “Nothing,” he amended, hiding behind his book again. “You know, Kakashi-san,” Kurenai smiled sweetly, “That is a very annoying habit you have.” “I can’t help it,” he returned flippantly, “I’m addicted to these books...” Naruto growled his frustration at his teacher’s lack of candor.  “Urrrh...Kaka-sensei said he met Priestess Ice Flame a long time ago, in Shimogakure!  But he thought she died, so seeing her here is messing with his already messed-up head!” “Naruto!” Sakura scolded, but ‘Inner Sakura’ thanked. Naruto chuckled nervously, as he regarded his teacher’s narrowed eye, “Well, it’s the truth!” “You foun– saw her back then, Kakashi?” Hiruzen asked, a mysterious light dawning in his wizened eyes.  Kakashi’s odd behavior since arriving was starting to make much more sense.  “Was she injured in the collection of that missing-nin?” Kakashi gave a quick bark of laughter at the unintentional absurdity of the question: “Heh, not at all.” “Then why did you think that she died?” Sarutobi pressed. “Because I went back to....formally apologize to her for the....trouble, and damage we had caused in carrying out our mission,” Kakashi answered.  “And I was told that I wasn’t allowed to say her name anymore, and pointed to a...an ash-stained pyre-stone...” The memory of that sooty, granite marker, surrounded by hundreds of white lanterns and teary-eyed mourners still sent a cold chill up his spine. “I can understand your confusion now,” the Hokage returned.  “Shimogakurans do not speak of the recently deceased as a rule of etiquette.  But they extend this taboo to the grievously injured, as well.  It has led to much aggravation in the past.” <<And since when did you ever feel the need to ‘apologize’ for Team Ro’s actions, Kakashi?>> the Hokage silently wondered.  It seemed that Ryuumaru’s ‘little angel’ had remelted Kakashi’s icy heart back then, too, huh?  And she still appeared to be holding a light out to his personal darkness.  Was fate so intent on tying these two together? The next two days just got much more interesting.... A sudden, clumsy, panicked clamber in the nearby trees spared Kakashi further investigation into his past associations.  A large swarthy skinned man, dressed in Shimogakuran body armor, was out of breath and on the run. Matsuko, it so happened.  He paused in his harried flight to rest his hands on his knees, and regulate his breath.  On seeing the table full of people, he waved a quick greeting before being bodily tackled by a dark-garbed missile, trailing a wild mane of orange-and-scarlet hair. “You’re out of bounds, Mat-kun!” Miriyume gleefully informed, as she perched her full weight between his broad shoulders on his prone form.  “Go back and face the penalty!” “Did you see what those farm kids did to Hisao?!” Matsuko quailed, squirming to extract himself from under her, not insignificant, buxom weight. “Well, he shouldn’t have been sitting there!  And it just took a little of our Winter Whiskey to bring him back round again....” she reassured, as Gekido and Aoseishin joined them. “Ha-ha!” Gekido chortled.  “Did someone’s famous courage go running off?” “I believe he caught it,” Miriyume smiled, as she helped her team mate to stand.  She then became aware of their audience. “Oh, hello!” she greeted, smoothing down her ruffled garments, as a blush bloomed along her cheeks.  “I didn’t see you there...” “Look what your cowardliness has brought!” Gekido intoned in his most dire-sounding sarcasm, and slapped Matsuko on the back of his helmet.  Matsuko retaliated with a simple punch to the shoulder, which sent the smaller man reeling, which set them to scrapping.  Aoseishin joined in the benign fray. “This is the Wandering Lights Brigade?” Sasuke smirked.  Sakura scowled at him. “Hard to believe, huh?” Miriyume acknowledged, as she approached their end of their table, abandoning her team mates to their regularly scheduled scuffle.  “Things have been a bit slow, in regards to missions, lately...” biting her lower lip in the most adorable way, as her eyes glanced at all the faces gathered.  Her eyes lingered on Kakashi a bit longer than the rest. Shino stood to face the noted kunoichi, and gave a polite bow.  “Your team is an inspiration to us all, for your genuine friendship and dedication to one another.  It is my sincerest hope to achieve a similar rapport with my own team mates.” The sound of the scuffle behind them lent an element of comical absurdity to Shino’s words. “You’ll get there, it just takes patience...and an occasional first-aid kit,” Miriyume smiled, regarding her companions over her shoulder.  “Good morning, Hokage-sama,” she bowed in respect to her Father’s friend. “Would your august company care to join us in our humble breakfast?” Hiruzen offered. “What are you having?” Gekido asked, pausing in mid-punch. “Miso....fish....tea...sticky rice...” Kurenai answered. “I’ll pass on the sticky rice, but the rest sounds good,” Matsuko answered, dumping his friend in the flattened grass.  Miriyume was looking all over the place, as if searching for something. “Is this everyone from Konohagakure?” she asked. “I believe so, my Lady,” Hiruzen returned.  “Is there someone you’re seeking in particular?” “You wouldn’t know a ‘Kaharu,’ by chance, would you?” Miriyume asked, as she was handed a cup of tea by one of the cooking-nin. Kakashi choked on a bit of his fish, and turned away for a moment to clean his face. “I know of a ‘Ko’ haru, but she is still in the Village Hidden in the Leaves, to my knowledge.  She doesn’t like traveling too far from there, as one of our Elders,” Hiruzen supplied. “An Elder?!” Gekido echoed, as he joined the two others at the table’s end.  He then turned to Miriyume: “You said she was a pretty, smut-reading kunoichi!” Kakashi quickly hid his book. “What gives?!” Gekido demanded of his team mate. “Clearly, we are not talking about the same person,” Miriyume quipped back.  “The woman I encountered last night–and may have...unintentionally given hypothermia to–was no older than the lady here,” indicating Kurenai. “Well, this one’s pretty, too,” Matsuko smiled. Kurenai blushed. “Why do you think this ‘Kaharu’ would be here?” Sakura asked. “She said she was a teacher from Konoha....” Miriyume answered, sipping her tea. “There are many who would claim such a thing, if they felt the need to impress someone,” Kakashi offered, crossing his arms behind his head, and leaning back.  “She was probably just some star-struck farm girl...” “I’m hardly that glamourous,” Miriyume countered. “I think you are, Lady Sage-Priestess!” Naruto testified, slapping the table for emphasis. “No, really, she’s not,” Gekido interjected. Miriyume tossed the last swallow of her tea in the Inuzuka’s direction. “Anyway, Camp Shimogakure is having an extended breakfast by the lakeside, so we can play ‘Kraken’.  You’re welcome to join us,” she smiled. “What....what is...’Kraken’?” Hinata shyly asked. “Its kind of like ‘playing ninja,’ only on water,” Matsuko answered.  “Its an excellent exercise in chakra control.” “Then I’m all for it,” Kakashi decided, standing up.  “Climbing trees without hands is probably getting dull for my three, eh?” “It was never that exciting to begin with,” Naruto muttered, causing Gekido to chuckle as the genin took a spot between him and Miriyume.  The Lady Ice Flame placed a hand on his shoulder.  There was something so...familiar about this kid.  Something comforting... “This will get your blood pumping,” she smiled conspiratorially, as Sasuke and Sakura also stood. “Can I go, too, Kurenai-sensei?” Kiba pleaded.  He was wanting any opportunity to hang out with the foreign Inuzuka. “I’ll keep my eye on him,” Kakashi promised. “Very well.  Just don’t come back smelling like ‘wet dog’!” Kurenai allowed. As they made their way to the lake, Hiruzen chuckled: “May the gods themselves preserve her radiant light.”

Kakashi took a moment to observe the individual dynamics of the Wandering Lights Brigade, as they led the way to the lake. Matsuko was a serene, formidable warrior, walking with an easy, sedate stride.  He had powerful muscles, and a strong build, yet he projected a supreme sense of calm, even when engaged in combat.  Kohai had been a crude brute.  This man was a tranquil giant. Gekido was a polar opposite of this.  Not much taller than Miriyume, with a build closer to his own.  He seemed to be constantly wound-up; putting an extra bounce in every step, and an urgent tone in every word.  This seemed to be a common trait amongst those of the Inuzuka clan, whatever part of the world they came from.  His ninken seemed slightly calmer in nature, as he romped ahead of them all with Akamaru.  Aoseishin was doing an excellent job of playing with a younger puppy; mindful of his superior strength, and stoically suffering the nips and pounces of his canine fellow for the sake of social interaction. And Miriyume...?  Where to start?  Every moment he spent in her presence, he studied every movement, every aspect.  She was grace, yet she was also audacity.  She had the soft, womanly curves of a life of leisure, but it only belied the solid strength of her broad shoulders, her powerful legs.  And her chakra....  Even without the benefit of his Sharingan, he would sense it.  It captivated him.  Kept bringing him back to a place and time before the world had become so dark and dreary. And despite being denied the privilege of her association, he felt a deep rapport with her.  It was a mysterious connection that went beyond anything else he’d ever known.  Was it the ‘magnetic nature’ that the Hokage had spoken of just now?  She did seem to attract and keep people under a kind of unconscious charm... Her team mates were the clearest example of this: The bond they shared seemed as thick as blood.  He could see it in the way they looked at her; the sense of joy and strength that they gained in each other’s company.  She wasn’t some bridge between the gulf of the other two.  She was the light that inspired them.  How he yearned to be a fraction of that kind of light for her... This is what a shinobi team needed to be, he realized. The music became louder as they crested the gentle hill that dropped down to the lake.  A water-jutsu by the look of it, clung to its surface.  Musicians (did they ever get a rest?) were gathered together next to a half dozen picnic blankets, and a team of cooking-nin who fed anyone who walked up, be they shinobi or simple farmer.  Many seemed to be content with relaxing and keeping tabs on the mysterious game on the lake, which was deduced by the sounds of splashes, shrieks and laughter. “Kaka-sensei?” Sakura’s voice betrayed anxiety.  “What are the rules of this ‘kraken’ game, exactly?” “Stay on the surface of the lake, and try not to get...’eaten’!” Gekido teased, as he gave her a quick clutch on her shoulders, causing her to squeal a little. “‘Eaten’?!?” Naruto echoed in a worried tone. “Not literally,” Matsuko laughed, as they continued down the hill.  “The ‘kraken’ are shinobi swimming below who will try to drag you under, or ‘eat you’.  Miriyume-chan learned of this game in Kirigakure, and finds every chance she can to torment me with it.” “Oh, Mat-kun...” Miriyume sighed happily, giving him an affectionate side hug as they walked together, “You make such a wonderful kraken!”  She then turned to Sakura.  “If you’re ‘eaten,’ you become a kraken, and you get to attack with the others until only one person is left on the surface.  And that’s the winner.” “At least let me strip down a little,” Matsuko haggled, “This armor takes forever to dry.” “A little lightning-drying can speed that up,” Miriyume smiled, willing a few sparks to dance across the upturned palm of her hand. “Sparkler left scorch marks last time!” Matsuko replied sternly, using her nickname. “Very well, BE a shameless exhibitionist....” Miriyume teased. “Can I be one, too?” Gekido asked. “Since when have you required my permission?” “Whoo-hoo!” Gekido hooted.  “Race you there, Earthquake!” and ran off with his ninken.  Kiba and Akamaru followed behind.  Matsuko, in no particular hurry,  jogged dutifully on their heels. “Well,” Miriyume fell back to walk with those who remained, “There goes a large dose of mayhem.” Kakashi regarded her with a hidden smirk and a side-long glance as she walked beside him.  “‘Sparkler’...?” “It’s what they call me, half the time,” she sighed.  “Because of the oddness of my lightning affinity, I’m guessing...” “Do they....really strip down?” Kakashi asked. “Down to boxers, minimum,” she reassured.  “At least until nightfall.  Then all bets are off.”  Her eyes flashed with a mischievous glint.  “But most people don’t bother, as clothes need washing, too.” “I prefer using a washing machine,” Kakashi quipped. “I prefer using a water jutsu, a rasengan, and some soap,” Miriyume replied. “Not everyone can be as freewheeling with their chakra as you can,” Kakashi countered. “They can while I’m around...or, hadn’t you noticed...?” she smiled her off-kilter smile, and offered her hand to Sakura.  “Care to join me?” Sakura looked to her sensei for guidance, who nodded his consent.  She giggled giddily as Miriyume pulled her into a sprint into the swirling mist, leaving Kakashi, Sasuke and Naruto alone on the shore. “That woman is strange,” Sasuke ventured aloud.  “Her chakra is very powerful....but poorly controlled.  It spills out of her like water from a ruptured pipe.” “That’s because she has no need to conserve it.  Her kekki genken is an ability to passively absorb chakra from any source, but her senjutsu training seems to have focused her mostly on Natural Chakra energies.” “Is she aware of how others can feed off her spilling energy?” Sasuke, as ususal, sounded critical. “I’m certain she is,” Kakashi returned, understanding the tone of disapproval.  His younger self would have seen it as wasteful as well.  “But such charity is common to people who have studied Ninshu.” “What is this....Ninshu?”  Naruto asked. “To put it simply, the transcendence of the spirit through the sharing of Chakra,” Kakashi answered. Naruto’s face was screwed up in confusion.  “Huh?” “Did you EVER pay attention in class?” Sasuke hissed. “Did you ever NOT?!” Naruto retorted. Kakashi sighed.  “To put it simpler, it’s the sharing of one’s chakra with others to achieve inner harmony.  Miriyume-sama’s mother is a priestess who is renowned for her devotion to Ninshu.  Its not often practiced anymore.” “Why not?” Naruto pressed. “Why not, indeed,” Kakashi smiled. A silvery peal of laughter, followed by a thunderous splash, erupted from deep in the mists before them. “She’s MINE, Matsuko-kun!  Find another victim!” Miriyume crowed proudly, as Sakura laughed. “I’ll save you, Sakura-chan!” Naruto proclaimed in response, and charged at the lake.  A loud splash signaled his failure to properly focus his chakra for water-walking. “That was embarrassing,” Sasuke commented bluntly. “Looks like its up to us to maintain the honor of Konoha,” Kakashi announced, before slipping into the mist.

At first, Sakura found the thick fog unsettling.  Ghostly forms moved all around and beneath them, and her thoughts wandered back to that awful battle on the half-completed bridge in the Land of Waves.  When Matsuko made a grab for her ankle, the Lady Ice Flame had deftly lifted her out of his reach, a split-second before Sakura had even noticed any attack, and sent her team mate splashing back below the surface with a solid kick of her laced boot. “How did you know he was there?” Sakura asked, as Miriyume set her back down. “I ‘sensed’ him,” she answered.  “I’m sorry....I don’t think we were properly introduced yet.  What is your name?” “Haruno, Sakura, Ice Flame-sama,” she returned with a respectful bow. “My name is Yaseiarashi, Miriyume,” as she kept a vigilant eye on the rolling clouds that surrounded them.  “But most call me Miriyume, or Miri-san.  Use one of those, please.” She then executed a graceful, sweeping kick out into the fog, and was rewarded with a yelp and a splash. “Try harder, Gek-kun!” she laughed. “Does your....Renkingen allow you to see them?” Sakura asked. “No.  It’s more of a ‘feeling’ than a sight, for me.  I’m sensing them through the chakra-absorption kekki genken of the Yaseiarashi clan.  And Matsuko and Gekido are easy for me to pick out of a crowd, due to our long association.” “So, you’re a ‘sensor’ type?” Sakura pressed. “Only in the simplest sense of the term.  Gekido and Aoseishin are much, much better at it than I could ever hope to be.” “You’re damn right, we are!” Gekido called out, somewhere beyond the mists. “...But he’s kind of useless when this happens....” Miriyume whispered, and performed an odd sequence of hand jutsu, some of them one-handed, as her eyes flashed briefly with the golden seven-pointed star that indicated the use of her dojutsu. “Aurora-storm jutsu!” she announced, as the fog suddenly came alive with bright flashes of color.  Sakura gasped at the beauty of it.  It was like finding one’s self contained within an opal.  Someone close by erupted into violent sneezing. “Sudden bright lights make Gek-kun sneeze...” Miriyume explained with a wicked smile. “Stop—“ Gekido fought to speak, “—talking about me!” Sakura laughed.  These adults still played like children, only with a better understanding of each other.  “It must be wonderful to know so much about one another...” “It takes time, and effort, on all parts...” Miriyume returned, regarding her newest friend.  She seemed so profoundly sad all of a sudden.  “...and patience.  Things between me and the guys weren’t always so easy, you know.” “Really?” Sakura seemed to regain a little joy in her jade-hued eyes. “Yes,” Miriyume nodded.  “In fact, Gekido was outright hostile on our first day together as a team.” A strong hand broke the surface of the water before the storm priestess, who clasped it and assisted its ascent to the lake surface. “He actually bit me,” Matsuko continued, as he wrung water from his shirt front.  “And he had Aoseishin tear a hole in Miri-chan’s skirt...in an embarrassing place....” “Are you giving up on being a ‘kraken’?” Miriyume asked. “I am,” Matsuko sighed.  “There are more people below than above at the moment, and water games just aren’t my thing....” “I read you,” Miriyume smiled tenderly.  “Let me introduce you to Sakura Haruno, one of Kakashi Hatake’s students...” “Oh, that reminds me–“ Matsuko began, but was cut short by a shadow that slipped up with ridiculous ease behind Sakura. Matsuko tensed as Sakura gasped.  Sasuke held a lone finger to his lips, and pointed ungently downward with his other hand a second before four Narutos exploded from the water, shouting: “You ALL belong to the Kraken, now!” and latched onto someone. Sasuke easily dispelled his and Sakura’s shadow clone assailants with basic taijutsu moves.  Matsuko held his clone aloft, and gave his nose a simple flick, making it vanish in a puff of chakra smoke..  Miriyume gave the real Naruto a sympathetic smile, as he tried to lift her from the lake surface. “I can barely budge her chakra, little man,” Matsuko informed.  “You really have to catch her completely off her guard to even hope to try.” “I would have had you ALL, if it weren’t for Sasuke ruining it!” Naruto fumed, crossing his arms obstinately, and scowling at his rival. “Sounds like ‘sour grapes’ to me,” Gekido opined as he and Aoseishin joined the group, then sneezed. “Sasuke!  Sakura!” Kiba called, as he and Akamaru followed the other Inuzuka’s lead.  “Did you see those lights?!  It was like a dream!” “More like a nightmare,” Gekido returned, scowling at Miriyume. “That was Miriyume-sama’s doing,” Sakura replied.  “Weren’t they beautiful?” Naruto suddenly tackled Kiba, attempting to douse him. “Naruto?!  What are you doing?!” Kiba demanded. “I’m a Kraken!  And I’m taking at least one of you down to a watery grave!” “You are really getting into this game....” Gekido observed. “Technically, you need to be underwater to be a Kraken, Naruto,” Miriyume ruled, as she laughed at the free-form wrestling match before her.   “Speaking of which...” Gekido attempted to warn his teammate, before a strong pair of hands clasped both of Miriyume’s ankles, and yanked her beneath the surface.  She barely had enough time to gasp for a quick breath. Naruto chuckled in triumph.  “Our plan worked!  The Kraken wins!” She looked strangely at ease in this watery realm.  Perturbed, but otherwise unconcerned, as she floated beside him in his Water Prison Jutsu.  Her blue-and-green eyes flared with the star of her Renkingen as she sought the exact boundaries of the bubble of denser water. “You can talk and breathe in there,” Kakashi assured, as a tendril of her amber-gold hair slipped silkily through the fingers of his hand that maintained the jutsu.  “I”m not a real Kraken...” “That was clever,” Miriyume complimented, as she adopted a seated lotus position within the water prison, “...Using Naruto as a distraction.  His chakra easily eclipses most, blinding me to your own.” “Am I on your radar now?” “You mean, sonar?” “I suppose so,” he shrugged. “At the moment....  So, am I your prisoner, or are you going to let me play the monster already?” Kakashi laughed.  “Victims are looking rather sparse at the moment....and you could never be a monster.” “You obviously haven’t seen my sage-form yet,” Miriyume quipped. “Care to enlighten me?” “In a lake...?! ....that contains my friends and allies?!  What the hell kind of teacher are you?!” “A bad one, I’ll admit,” Kakashi returned.  “But then, I’ve heard tell that you aren’t the ‘most eager’ of students, either.  Perhaps we could....mutually benefit from a better association?  Your style of jutsu intrigues me....” “Oh no...” Miriyume intoned, as she performed a set of hand jutsu that created a sphere of air in her hands.  “I stopped calling anyone ‘sensei’ a long time ago.  Its better...and safer that way.”  There was a tinge of sorrow in her last statement. She expanded the air sphere, absorbing and transmuting the chakra nature of the Water Prison Jutsu, replacing the dense water with a fresh, spring-like bubble of oxygen, firmly under her control. “Experience....and an itinerant storm-kami, are my only teachers now.”   “Then perhaps you could teach me...specifically about your Chidori technique.  You call it ‘Storm Gauntlet’...?  You’re a Lightning Affinity, aren’t you?” She gave him a look that she reserved for those who feigned ignorance.  It wasn’t pleasant. “Yes...and....” she sighed. “Then why did it....’latch’ onto mine?” She took a moment to review the strange incident in her mind.  It was so long ago.  Nearly buried under a flurry of unpleasant memories... “I don’t know,” she admitted freely.  “I have worked in conjunction with many lightening affinities, but have never experienced that....melding before.  My Mother once tried to explain it.  Something about resonance....or convergence....I can’t remember exactly,” as she went through the motions of yet another jutsu technique, and briefly enveloped herself in a wreathe of flame that dried her clothes and hair.  Kakashi had rarely encountered such a casual usage of chakra before.  “But then, quantum chakra theory was never my strong suit...” “But you seem to have quite a talent for Nature Transformation,” Kakashi complimented, as he examined the Air Prison closer by uncovering his Sharingan.  “Who’s the prisoner now?” “I don’t like this,” Gekido announced, as he scanned the surface of the nearly fog-free lake.  The game had finally ground to a halt, with an ice-using shinobi from Shimogakure being declared the winner. “What don’t you like?” Matsuko obediently asked, as Aoseishin shook the water from his thick, white and pale blue coat, spraying a fair amount of it Matsuko’s way. “I can’t see Miri-chan anywhere.  Is she still underwater?” squinting his slitted eyes in an attempt to peer past the surface. “Sparkler’s a big girl now, Fuzzy,” Matsuko returned, as he lay back to dry himself in the noon sun.  “She’ll let us know if there’s any trouble.” Gekido scoffed.  “Like her brother...?” “Ryuuyuki was a stubborn man with a ‘lone wolf’ complex.  Miri-chan has never been like that.” “Yeah, but lately....I’ve been noticing some unpleasant patterns,” he resumed his measured pacing by the shoreline.  “Like the Getsugawa Cave incident?  Or the Hole-in-the-Wall, in the Land of Earth?” “Yes, well,” Matsuko returned.  “She has always been intrigued by rumors of treasure...” “....and need I remind you about her rambling around alone in the ruins of Uzushiogakure every chance she gets.  And her sage form seems to give her plenty of opportunities...” “Alright, point taken!” Matsuko gave in.  “She is getting a bad habit of striking out on her own, but, I have faith that she understands the consequences of going ‘full rogue’.” “I’ve never been much of one for faith, Earthquake,” Gekido returned.  “I require substance....like keeping her in my sights, or sense of smell....” he sniffed at the gentle breeze that blew over the lake, clearing it of the remaining fog.  “Where is she?” “Well, the last time I saw her,” Matsuko stood beside his antsy friend, “she was ‘eaten’ by the Kraken...and it was that Kakashi guy...” “That guy....” Gekido snorted, and kicked at the ground like petulant child, “...thinks he’s ‘so cool’ with his hidden face, and his silly crooked hair...and his mis-matched eyes.  I ought to plant a frost-star where the sun-don’t-shine on him, for disrespecting Miri-chan with his mask-thingie...” he mimed throwing a shuriken across the lake.  “Do you see him?” “See who?” Kakashi asked, suddenly behind them.  Gekido nearly jumped into the lake. “You, you...cyclops!  Where’s Miriyume?!” the Inuzuka demanded, as Matsuko tired not to laugh too hard. Kakashi lifted his headband to expose the Sharingan for a moment, making the other two men flinch.  He regarded the lake surface. “She’s still down there,” he returned, having easily seen her unique chakra beneath the tranquil waves.  “But don’t worry, I left her in good company.”

“So...what was the big celebration about...?” Kakashi began, grasping at any straw to keep this alluring woman all to himself for a bit longer, in this private little realm.  “The night we met...back in Shimogakure?  I never found out.” “I believe it was the Trueheart’s Festival,” Miriyume answered. “What is that, exactly?” “An excuse to party,” she smiled back with that off-kilter smirk that snared him tighter every time she used it on him.  “Officially, it’s a day to prove one’s affections.” “Like Valentine’s Day?” “Kind of...but less...specific,” she continued.  “People do wind up on dates, but your affections are supposed to be for everyone who goes out of their way to be nice.” “...and the kissing...?” “What better way to signal one’s affections than by kissing?  On the cheek.  Sometimes on the lips.  A small bit of warmth in an otherwise cold world.”  She looked almost wistful. “Shimogakurans seem so casual about them...” “And you seem so ardently opposed.  You certainly have built up your bulwarks against them.” “Not everyone can afford to live life so free...” “Not every village is as enlightened as mine.”  A note of indignance was creeping into her voice.  “We pride ourselves on our ability to live our lives to the fullest, knowing that to do otherwise is to insult all we defend.  So yes, we drink.  We dance.  We kiss strangers in our midst....” “....you skate on cracking ice....routinely consume vile whiskey....nearly let it drag you off an icy waterfall....” “No one throws a party like Shimogakure; and DON’T insult our winter whiskey!  It’s a holy sacrament! And damn good at counter-reacting most poisons,” she defended hotly.  He swore he could see a bit of static crackling about her.  And the air had suddenly become drier... “Okay...sensei–ur...” he tapered off, “Kakashi apologizes,” holding up his hands in a gesture of peace.  Her ambient chakra had gone from a passive billowing to a menacing flare, and back again.  Stormy aspect was an apt description, and he was finding her more and more fascinating by the second. “So...” he continued, trying his best to sound nonchalant, “Did you...have a date...that night?  The night we met...?” “No,” she seemed a bit self-conscious in the admission.  “No one liked me in that way up there.  No one serious, anyway.  But candy and flowers and kisses can be for platonic friends, too, and even strangers who wander in, who aren’t rude, and take off their masks when asked!” glaring back from across the air bubble. “I had no choice!” he reasserted, “Anbu agents are forbidden to reveal their identities!” “Rules or not, you denied me, which I’m not inclined to forgive so easily,” turning away. She could hold a grudge, alright.  And her pride was off the charts.  He could see the questions waiting in those jewel-like eyes, but she wasn’t about to ask them.  He plainly saw how her mind was a chaotic torrent of memories concerning that night.  Now that he knew the full story, he figured that their strange introduction to one another that night, on the cusp of such horror that followed, may have been the last ‘positive’ recollection she had.  He gulped at the realization.  He’d met her right before her brother died.  He elected to be charitable: “I returned, Miriyume-sama,” he volunteered softly.  “A week later.  Without the others.  Without the Anbu mask.” “You....what?”  She turned back toward him, chakra aura guttering. “I came back to look for you,” Kakashi repeated.  “But no one would speak of you, or what had happened.  And they showed me the funeral stone.  I thought you were dead.” She turned.  Eyes wide.  Face a whiter shade of pale.  “No one....told me.”  She then hung her head in a sorrow so pervasive that it made him clutch at his own heart. “But why would they?”  Kakashi struggled past the sudden pall, “I was a foreigner, intruding on their grief.  They had just lost a hero, and very nearly lost a heroine....” She wiped her eyes, and summoned a not-quite-genuine laugh to alleviate the sadness.  That act alone nearly broke Kakashi’s heart all over again. “I am no heroine,” Miriyume corrected.  “I’m just a misfit with noble intentions, floundering in the wake of the North Wind.”  She tilted her head slightly sideways to release the welling tears in her shining eyes. Again, she forced a light chuckle, as she wiped the glistening trails from her flushed cheeks.  Laughter through tears; a rather masochistic coping mechanism.  Kakashi was struck speechless with the enormity of the moment.  She didn’t hide her pain...she taunted it. “So, I guess I can forgive you,” Miriyume began, forcibly shoving aside her sorrow.  “I’m sorry my village wasn’t more helpful.  Its not the first time our customs have caused trouble.” “The only trouble was my pessimistic attitude, and that was gained long before that moment,” Kakashi returned.  “If only I had some capacity for hope...I’d have keep looking....” So many years wasted, he inwardly scolded himself. “Well, here I am,” she smiled, stepping closer, arms folded across her chest.  “....Wherever I go.  Where are you?” “At the moment....here,” Kakashi replied.  It wasn’t a complete lie...  She stepped closer. “Well....?” “Well, what...?” Kakashi rebounded, confused. “Do you want your Trueheart’s Night kiss, or not?” she scowled up at him in the most adorable way. Kakashi’s staggered slightly at the question, exposed cheek instantly bloomed crimson.  “You’d....you would still grant that?!  After all this time?” “You’re the only one who really deserved it that night.  Saving my life on the lake,” she reminded.   <<And you’re the guy who’s haunted my dreams ever since,>> she added silently. “...and I like to settle my accounts....” she joked, drawing yet closer. The only one.  Never had those words sounded sweeter to Kakashi’s ears.  He took a deep, blissful breath, closed his eyes, and compensated for her shorter stature by leaning down a bit.  Following an awkward moment of giddy anticipation where nothing seemed to be happening, he opened his eyes to find her scowling again. “What’s the matter?” “There’s another mask in my way....” she growled back. “Oh, this?” touching his trademark garment, “Don’t worry.  Its soft.” “That’s not the point!  What are you...afraid of germs, or something?” “No...” he backpedaled from her rising ire...and chakra....slightly.  She only matched his retreat. “Are you horribly scarred by acid? Or deformed?” “No! At least, I don’t think so...” he was backed up against the wall of the bubble now.  Her bubble.  And she was right up against him, chakra-aura fully banked.  Its light made him squint. “...Then, why hide?!” she demanded. What was she really asking here? And why did he suddenly feel like he was on the inside of a rasengan? “Because I like to appear....mysterious...?” he offered blithely, as watched the stars flash in her eyes, and her chakra aura resolve into opalescent flames.  Why was it suddenly so cold in here...? “And I like to be....honest,” her smile had taken on a more sinister aspect, as she began to coalesce an odd energy in her hands before him.  A deep, dangerous hum began to sound in his ears.  Something that he hadn’t heard since their last meeting...  “I’ve refined my Storm Gauntlet Technique somewhat, since you last saw me, blending my lighting nature with every other chakra I’ve come across.  But I’ve grown rather fond of one mixture in particular that can’t seem to be replicated by anyone else.  Probably due to the enormous amounts of chakra required.  Would the ‘mysterious’ Copy-Ninja like to try?” “Do I have a choice...?” he winced, as she held a large orb of dark, opalescent flame up to him for uncomfortably close inspection. True to its name, it was made of ice and fire....but there was also a massive amount of lighting in its composition, making it a fusion of no less than four types of chakra. Everything about this jutsu told him it would burn if he touched it, yet it radiated a cold energy, akin to a winter storm’s gale. “What’s the matter, Hata-sensei....?  You did say that you found my jutsu-style ‘intriguing’, didn’t you?” He could feel his own chakra that held his being together begin to unravel in the event horizon of her radically increasing power.  A power that seemed intimately tied to her emotional state. Oh gods... The surge of her Ice Fire Jutsu scattered Kakashi’s Shadow Clone’s essence into a deeply frustrated puff of smoke, leaving Miriyume alone and rather agitated in her Air Prison.