Chapter Text
Minato wrapped Ebisu’s arm up tightly. The young boy looked frightened and still shaken from his encounter with the Kiri ninja. Genma was sitting a foot away from them, his face ashen and his shoulder bandaged. He had been coughing the entire time Mianto’s team had been nearby. Minato wasn't sure what had happened, only that something had happened and it had shaken the boys to their core. Covered in blood and rain water, both boys looked like they'd gone against some sort of animal. Judging by the large chunk taken out of Genma, Minato would wager a guess it might have been something carnivorous.
Minato crouched in front of Ebisu smiling reassuringly as he tried to stem the young boy's hastened breaths. “It’s okay.” Minato whispered. “I’m here now.” But Ebisu just shook his head, his eyes welling with tears.
Genma didn’t look ready to speak either, he coughed into his non bandaged arm and looked away. His eyes were distant. Minato felt himself perk up - he could sense one of his teammates' chakra sensors. Mianto’s sensing wasn’t nearly as good as Jinhi's, but he could do the basic sensing techniques when he was in a calm environment. The leaves rustled and just as Minato thought - Jinhi walked back from the tree line carrying one of their portable cups.
“Sensei says this will help with your throat.” Jinhi said skittishly. “It should take the burn.”
Genma didn’t look convinced. “I just got choked with water, ya think I wanna drink anything?” He asked, annoyed. Genma was ten years old and a bit of a snotty kid. Minato liked him usually and trusted his capabilities, but when it came to being hurt Minato avoided him. Genma just liked to be in conflict with people when he was in pain.
Minato watched them for a second longer before turning back to Ebisu and shifting the young boy to sit against the tree. His ankle had been twisted, so they had to wait for Yenhai to come back and set it correctly. She was the de facto healer on their team at the moment because her aunt was a medic and had taught her a few things. Before though, when it was Ren on their team, Ren had been their healer. “Don't move it too much.” Minato said kindly to Ebisu. Ebisu just sighed as he relaxed against the tree, his spear laying beside him in close reach.
“How did it break in half?” Minato asked, nodding at the spear. It wasn't a professional one by any means. It was a long stick with a kunai tied at the end of it with ninja wire.
“Lightning.” Ebisu said, shivering. “There was this…this purple lightning and it broke my spear in half.” Then he smiled. “But it still went through that demon.”
“Demon?” Minato questioned quietly. He still sat crouched in front of Ebisu, questioning the boy for anything useful to hand back to Jiraiya. “You guys didn't mention a demon.”
“He's talking about the Uzumaki.” Genma cut in scowling. Apparently the tea did make his throat feel better. At least, good enough for speech now. “The little red head fucking demon. Took a chunk out of my shoulder with his teeth.” Then he nodded to Ebisu. “Would have done more if it wasn’t for Ebisu.”
Minato did not outwardly react. But his mind was already racing with possibilities. Minato did not have time to ask questions though because Genma kept speaking. “He might not actually be an Uzumaki, aint ever heard of one so vicious before.”
“They are people, they are not a monolith.” Jinhi said, mildly exasperated. “If we are thinking of the same boy, I do think he is an Uzumaki.” But that is where Jinhi stopped speaking, not elaborating on his thought process.
The two boys didn't speak again after that and Minato did not press them. Mianto wasn't sure why they had been here and for what purpose. They were young - far too young to be so far out of fire country. The only reason Minato’s team was out of fire country was because of their age and Jiraiya. Minato was already a Chuunin and so was Jinhi. It was just Yenhai who needed to be promoted. On paper, they were still a genin squad, but in reality they were functionally a chunin cell on the cusp of being reassigned elsewhere. Probably on their next rotation back to the village.
Minato looked upward at the now still sky. The rain had stopped but the clouds were just barely parting letting the sky peek out from behind the clouds.
“Sensei is looking for you.” Yenhai said, shocking Minato out of his reverie. Minato had forgotten to keep a look out again for where his teammates were. Dangerous in times like this.
Yenhai dropped a knocked out Gai on the floor. His face wet with what might have been tears. “Alright, who's next?” She asked, looking at Genma and Ebisu. Both boys avoided her gaze and Jenhi coughed discreetly pointing at Genma.
Minato walked away before he could get pulled into that. Yenhai was not known for her gentle hands when she healed people. And she was more prone to making you sleep than giving pain relievers.
Minato did not have to travel very far. Sensei was standing just about a mile away from their group, staring off into the distance. “You asked why we changed course so suddenly,” Jiraiya said, barely even blinking. Gone was his usually silly personality and here in its place was a man shaped into grief.
It took Minato a moment to understand what his Sensei was even talking about. Then it hit him - right. Before they rushed over here to assist little team eight, Minato and his teammates had been traveling back to Konoha. Sensei had stopped them suddenly though, his hair rising as he turned and glanced around. Minato had asked why they were changing course so suddenly.
“Oh.” Minato said, almost breathless. “You sensed it.” And it was almost obvious in hindsight, of course a Sanin could sense something like this.
Jiraiya’s lips twisted uncomfortably. “No,” he corrected. “But I could sense the gates opening one by one.” And here Sensei looked as if he had aged a few years. Minato wasn't sure what his sensei was even talking about - what gates?
Minato almost opened his mouth to ask the question, why? But he kept it closed. Shinbi didn't tell their secrets. Not even to their favorite students.
Sensei laughed suddenly as he covered his face with his palm. “Maito Dai is dead,” Sensei said, shocking Minato. “And he took two of the three swordsmen who attacked him, down into the grave.”
Minato’s eyes flickered to his Sensei’s pack. Where the body scrolls probably laid. “Kiri Swordsmen?” Minato asked, shocked. “He killed two of the seven swordsmen?” They were legendary swordsmen, people Minato would be wary of crossing. How did the man known as the eternal genin manage to kill two of them?
“You shouldn’t be putting stock in labels.” Jiraiya said, still staring at the sky. “We don't label our shinobi to reward them for their prowess, we label them for comfort.”
The words settled on Minato roughly into his chest. He couldn’t respond for a moment as he thought over his Sensei’s words. The thought was unsettling but it wasn't wrong, was it? Minato had always considered his advancements as a reward. A reward for his hard work. A recognition for everything he had done in order to get to this point. A reward for the children he'd killed. The enemies he'd outrun. The nights he'd gone without sleep, training until his fingers bled. If it wasn’t a reward, then what had it all been for?
“If the villagers couldn't look at us and think they know how strong we are, then how could they function beside us?” Minato said quietly. Jiraiya smiled, and Minato could see that he hadn’t quite gotten exactly what his Sensei meant. Only partially.
Sensei patted Minato on the head, ruffling his blonde hair almost fondly. “Yup,” Sensei said, still sadly. “Something like that.”
They stood in silence for a long moment, Minato trying to unravel his Sensei’s words, while Jiraiya stared into the distance. “That boy was there.” Minato said after a moment. “Ajax.” And Mianto had been avoiding saying his name, avoiding letting that boy even be the slightest bit human.
Jiraiya didn't speak for a moment then he answered softly. “The Uzumaki of Whirlpool were not always content, back when whirlpool was here. About forty years ago, there was a civil war. Many Uzumaki fled—and were killed in Rain, in Sand. The rest stayed behind in Whirlpool.” He turned and looked at Minato. “But some managed to find their ways to other villages. We’ve been seeing that consequence more and more lately.” Jiraiya smiled slightly as he reached inside his flak jacket and pulled out his bingo book. His sensei thumbed around for a few moments before settling on the page of a red headed man that looked familiar to Minato. “It's a year or so out of date.” Jiraiya said, shrugging. Of course it was out of date. His Sensei was terrible at keeping up with updated bingo books, he always said the older versions had ‘more honest faces.’
“Kouhei Suikazan,” Minato read out, a sinking feeling in his chest. “B ranked shinobi, Uzumaki lineage and known relative of a seven swordsmen of the mist.” Minato finally glanced up at his Sensei.
“And suspected of being Samehada’s next inheritor.” Jiraiya said grimly. “Imagine that, a chakra gallon like him with Samehada.”
“It would be…” Disastrous, monstrous, terrifying. “Bad.” Minato finally settled on.
Sensei snorted. “Yeah real bad.” Sensei said as he rubbed his forehead. “Now, this Ajax of yours. He seems pretty rocked. This is what happens with Uzumaki who leaves Konoha or Whirlpool.” Sensei said seriously. “Do you understand?”
“Yes.” Minato said determined. “I understand.”
Jiraiya studied him for a moment. “Good,” he said finally, though the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Cause I’ve got a toad contract for you to sign.”
Minato straightened excitedly, his Sensei was finally allowing him to officially sign the toad summoning contract! As Minato chatted excitedly to his Sensei, he let the thought of his duty go. His duty was to bring Kouhei and Ajax back to the village! No matter what he had to do!
Unbeknownst to him, this was most definitely not what Jiraiya had in mind.
Hana leaned over the Mizukages desk with a wet rag and a mask over her lower face. Her hair was pulled away from her and placed into a lower bun, perfect for her work here.
Her hands hurt as she scrubbed the wet blood off his desk, her fingers cramping from being in the same position for so long. Her lower back hurt as well from the position she was in, but that was easier for her to ignore than her cramping fingers. She did not dare complain. Not when thousands would do anything to be in her place and her in theirs. She might not be directly on the battlefield, but she heard everyday of everything that happened.
“Two of them.” The Mizukage hissed as he paced behind his desk. His large braid swung side to side as he paced, hitting the corner of the desk everytime he turned to stare out the window.
Hana did not ask what he meant or who he was talking about. He would elaborate soon enough. Her job wasnt to ask questions, it was to assist in anything he needed. And right now what he needed was this blood off his desk and a listening ear. It did not matter if her lower back hurt and her fingers were cramping. She had a job and she needed to do it.
“And their swords - they’ve gone fucking missing.” The Mizukage said, falling into his seat. His head in his hands. Hana stopped scrubbing - not because he was vulnerable around her, that had happened often - but because two swordsmen had died? Two of the greatest swordsmen? Hana tried to keep her face composed but she knew she was failing. She had a terrible poker face.
Thankfully the Mizukage did not call her out on it. He just looked at her, his wrinkled forehead ageing him. She had once seen him, looking terrifying when she was a child. Her parents and siblings were slaughtered. He had seemed untouchable as he walked through the aftermath and his gaze finally landed onto her.
Now? Now he looked like a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders. Hana swallowed uncomfortably as she finally stood up straight and dunked her bloody rag into a bucket. “How?” She asked quietly. She needed to pick and choose when the right moment was to speak. Too soon and he would get angry, admonishing her for speaking out of turn. Too late and he would grow pensive and silent. It had been four months now since she’d graduated from the academy. Since that day she had killed her friend. Hana had done a lot more than that to survive the Mizukage.
“Maito Dai.” The Mizukage said after a long pause. So long it almost made Hana nervous that she had spoken too late. “Scouts say he did something we haven't seen in decades.” He sneered. “Fucking Konoha and their damned monsters!” He shouted standing up from his chair abruptly.
Hana did not dare move. Every muscle in her body stilled as she waited with baited breath for the Mizukage to aim his ire at something or someone. There was silence for a long terrifying moment. He did not move. Neither did Hana.
Then he spoke again, softer. Quiet almost. “Kiri will survive this.” He nodded. “It will. Even if…even if I am not there to see to it.” His hand moved and rubbed at his throat.
“And the spy?” Hana prompted him, she had gotten unnervingly good at reading the man.
“Good as dead when I find out who it is.” He sneered. He opened his mouth to say something else but he coughed instead, blood coming out and hitting the desk. And a small amount fell onto Hana’s hand. Hana grabbed his rag and wrangled it out, moving to clean the blood off his desk again.
“I am calling them all back.” He said coughing still. “All of them. I need their swords where I can see them.”
Hana tried not to perk up at that, if they were all coming back then that meant Ajax would be returning with his sensei. Hana missed her friend desperately. “And how will they be replaced?” She wagered on asking.
The mizukage coughed again more roughly and more blood hit Hana’s hands. “The damn civilians.” He said not answering her questions. “Their bloodlust is almost as bad as Kusa.”
Hana did not respond to that. She lived in relative luxury, a bed and room. Food that was not spoiled and clothes that could be worn comfortably. Most of the Kiri civilians lived in rags and ate food that was slightly moldy. The war was taking its toll on everyone. Even their fish supply was starting to dwindle from the overfishing.
“They're blaming the bloodlines.” The Mizukage said coldly. “Damned beasts.”
Hana was not sure who he was insulting, the civilians or the bloodline users.
Across the battlefield, Kuki observed the remnants of the carnage silently taking note of every scratch in the trees and the leftover wire on the floor.
The swords had gone missing. Shibuki and Hiramekarei. It shouldn't have been possible, not with Fuguki being here and battling. Her nose twitched and she looked off distantly. Her two former students were a ways off, the lingering tracker Kuki had placed on them justy there faintly enough. Good. It would make it easier for her to find them.
Hopefully not dead.
That would be inconvenient.
Kuki spent the next day and a half alternating between running and stalking after her former students. She had come across many places they had been, and could see exactly where they both had their own battles.
She almost smiled when she saw it. A teacher could not help the small pride they felt when they saw their students using their learnings in the real world.
When she finally found them, both of them were heavily injured. Ajax with shirt torn in half and bandages covering his midsection. He was covered in blood and mud, Kuki noticed. Then her eyes drifted to Izuka. Izuka was bloody everywhere and favoring her right side, her head was covered in thick bandages.
“Hello!” Kuki said, trying to smile as natural as possible. The two students grimaced when they saw her. “You missed the checkpoint by seventeen miles.” She said, still smiling.
Her two former students just stared at her silently. She did not stop smiling. Were they going to reply at some point? Hello? Students? “Eh?” She prompted them.
Izuka looked like she was going to explode, her face turning red. But it was Ajax who spoke first, “Where have you been?” He demanded, his voice strained and laced with a lingering pain and growl.
Kuki blinked. “I was fighting.” She answered. Which was true of course. She had fought a few people. But primarily she was observing.
The two children stared at her mutinous. Oh, how cute they were thinking that frightened her. Her smile widened as she walked over and started checking their injuries. If they died it would be so annoying to explain.
She adjusted the bandage on Izuka’s head with the same precision she’d use to reset a tripwire. Ignoring or more aptly, not understanding why they were so upset. She was proud of them. And if necessary, she could kill them too. But for now, she’d dress their wounds.
“You left us.” Izuka said as if trying to hold back the scream.
“You are Shinobi of Kirigakure.” Kuki reminded them. “There is no such thing as stability and comfort.”
And it seemed to her as if they both needed to be resigned. Somewhere where they would be alone in their missions. Attachment was not the Shinobi way.
“Come.” She Kuki softly. “I have your next assignments with me.” And they had been meant to travel together, but Kuki would just have to split the assignments in two. Besides, Kuki thought as she glanced at Ajax, this assignment might be better if he were alone.
The codes were going to come out.
That was the only phase thumbing through Kisame’s head as he observed the Cypher Division. The elite group was known to hold most of Kiri’s intelligence gathering.
And Kisame was one of their sole bodyguards left. The other twelve had been plucked and slaughtered for the last two weeks. Kisame was a paranoid bastard on the best of days but this? This wasn't paranoia because someone was actually after him, and by extension the codes.
Sensei had given him this mission himself. He hadn't even let Kouhei hear the information, that was how important this was. Kisame straightened up as he glanced around. Checking the perimeters. He would need to leave soon to make a quick sweep but he couldn’t yet. Not when his nerves were screaming.
Sensei told Kouhei everything - he was the man Kisame was competing against for Samehada. Kouhei was everything Kisame needed to be and more if he wanted even the smallest of chances to get that sword in his grasp one day. This mission, the trust of it, was a sign that Sensei was seeing Kisame as a worthy holder. And not just as an interesting brat. Kisame was at the disadvantage here. Kouhei was related to Sensei and Kisame was still fairly certain that Ajax was Sensei’s son.
What was Kisame compared to a family?
Kisame’s hand tightened on his kunai. He would be better than them both. And this mission proved it. Kisame stood up and left his bounty markers on the floor. He needed to secure the perimeter.
But as he rose up from his kneeling position on the floor he felt a chill in the air. Fuck, they had been found. The group was eating obliviously. There was a small pause as if the air itself was holding its breath. Kisame cursed as he twisted around and dodged a kunai aiming for his throat.
Kisame glanced at the kunai then back at the trees. There was this presence in the air, like a man who had never had a sip of water but was being granted his first taste. The world seemed to slow down for a moment. There was only one man whose very presence could make you feel like that.
Ibiki Morino.
Fuck.
Kisame felt his breath quicken. His mind working faster than his body, it was as if his hands was moving in slow motion as it reached for the hand signs.
Morino was a monster in the interrogation world, the ghost the ninja higher ups would use to scare ninjas into submission when they held confidential information.
“These codes are more important than your life,” Sensei had told him. But Kisame wasn’t sure if that meant the codes were precious.
Or if his life simply wasn’t.
Fuck.
Kisame knew what he had to do. He did. He knew what had to be done. But he had spent the last week and a half guarding these men. That did not mean anything. Not when the future of Kiri was at stake if these codes got out.
Kisame turned on his heel, the world starting to move faster as he lunged at the closest cypher member and slit his throat. The other members barely had time to react as Kisame came at them one by one. And before Kisame knew it Morino was here, and he was trying to nag one quickly, hedging his bets on which would be faster. Snatching a member or killing kisame.
It was much easier to kill men than save them from being kidnapped. Kisame blew a water bullet through Morino’s hand and it hit one of the members throats.
Satisfied that everyone was dead, Kisame fled through the trees.
How had Morino even known where the Cypher members were?
Kouhei had spent his entire life trying to be enough. To be the shinobi his family was looking for. First to his father, the last wielder of Samehada, who had forced Kouhei to swing the greatsword thousands of times a day until it was second nature. Than to his mother, as her blood cursed Kouhei with something that had followed him for the rest of his life. The Uzumaki name.
Finally to his uncle. Who had killed his mother and father and taken Kouhei in. And Kouhei knew why his parents had to die. Had accepted it even.
It was a necessary evil, just as his Uncle would say.
Kouhei had long since buried the part of him that cared to disagree. There were no such things as attachments in Kiri Shinobi. It made them weaker.
Kouhei understood.
That did not make this any easier.
Kouhei handed the paper off to the man in a non marked forehead protector. Then he turned on his heel. His uncle would be waiting for him.
Kouhei would be running for days just to meet him at this rate. Kouehi stretched as he took to the tree branches, and god did he hate running this way, and pushed chakra into his legs making a faster pace. Two hours over days was better, even if he had to run through the trees to do it.
“It’ll cost you double.” Fuguki said slyly to the young Hyuuga in front of him. “Even more if you want the line rotations.”
Jinhi scowled, “What my master wants-”
“Is information only I can give him.” Fuguki said slowly. “So you either pay up or I’ll find someone who will.”
Fuguki smiled a little cruelly. It was always a fun game like this. Arguing with Danzo through his little cats and upping the price everytime it felt convenient. Sometimes he even made it so the price went down just to see the little cats reaction.
It was usually nothing. But on rare occurrences, Fuguki was graced with cats like this one. Jinhhi had facial reactions, most probably learned and always a tad dramatized. It was amusing to see what passed for emotion on these freaks faces. Fuguki thumped Samehada on the ground and made a showing of thumping the great sword on the floor. “So?” He asked.
“Fine.” Jinhi said, and he pulled out an envelope and gave it to Fuguki. “Information?”
“Mizukage is pulling us all back for the foreseeable future.” Fuguiki supplied promptly, “But the attack on Dai was fruitful. We’ll have another one stationed around Wind in about a month. No swordsmen.”
Jinhi nodded once, his eyes flickering to the trees. “Its a shame.” Jinhi said. “That you will never be allowed to see that money paid,”
“What-” Fuguki said suddenly growling as he lunged at Jinhi. That little freak, had Dazai sold him out? But chains erupted from the floor and held Fuguki down. Samehada knocked to the floor.
Jinhi, with his stupid Hyuuga eyes, flickered upward again before turning and vanishing. Fuguki growled as he lunged against the chains. For a moment, he did not understand.
Then it hit him.
These were not just any chains.
They were chakra chains.
The same that beautiful Rasa had used once before Fuguki killed her. The same technique she had passed onto her son, who hated his heritage more than anything and was more than happy to explain to Fuguki how it worked. And the very same he had taught Kisame, five months ago.
“You have been selling information to Konoha.” Kisame said from behind him. His voice was void of any emotion. Fuguki twisted in his chains trying to turn and see his student.
“I have been selling false information.” Fuguki growled. “For the village-”
“No.” Kisame said, and Fuguki could hear him walking closer. “You haven't.”
Fuguki remained silent for a moment. “You’ve always had a way of cutting through the bullshit kid.” Kisame did not respond. “You were supposed to be on that mission for another month.”
“Morino showed up,” And now Fuguki could hear Kisame just inches behind him. “Had to kill the cypher squad. For the codes.” Kisame said sardonically.
Fuguki didn't speak. He watched as Kisame picked up Samehada. Fuguki took a breath as he shut his eyes. Yeah he knew where this was going. He had known it the moment his chakra had been evaporating from the chain's grip. The chains worked feeding off first the summoner's chakra, then the captives. Damn him. Damn this all.
“Samehada will have a good meal.” Kisame said slowly as he swung the sword. Samehada’s ever present whispers went from Fuguki’s ears and now it only spoke for Kisame.
The last thing Fuguki saw was Kouhei’s horrified expression in the tree line.
He knew Kouhei was watching him.
The air was too still for him not to notice. Kisame didn’t even look up as Samehada finished its feast, the blade’s spines slick with blood and chakra. It pulsed in his grip, shuddering with satisfaction. His hands, once shaking with restraint, were now steady. He exhaled.
Fuguki was dead.
Samehada was his.
It did not feel like the victory he had always imagined it to be. Instead he just felt exhausted. Almost hollow in its feeling.
Kisame let the silence stretch for a moment. He didn’t need to search the trees to see, Kouhei’s chakra presence had always felt a little like holding lightning in your mouth. That cursed Uzumaki blood, suppressed and disciplined to the point of snapping.
He waited for Kouhei to speak.
Kouhei didn’t.
Of course he didn’t.
The man was too well-trained for that. Kisame looked up finally, slow and deliberate. He met Kouhei’s eyes through the trees, and what he saw there made something cold bloom in his chest.
Shock. Rage. Grief.
And worst of all - betrayal.
“Get down here,” Kisame called.
Kouhei didn’t move. Just kept staring, mouth set, hands twitching like he couldn’t decide whether to draw his sword or wrap them around Kisame’s throat.
Kisame sighed and stepped forward, letting Samehada drag behind him like a corpse.
“You were watching long enough,” Kisame said, not bothering to shout. “You could have interfered.”
Kouhei didn’t respond.
“I should kill you,” Kisame muttered, almost to himself. “You know that, right?”
Now Kouhei did move, dropping from the tree like a blade. He landed soundlessly in front of Kisame, shoulders squared.
“You killed our teacher,” he said, and his expression was one of disbelief. Kouhei glanced behind Kisame, and he wondered what the older man saw. Was it for the first time, the idea that their Sensei was not a god finally entered the bastard's head?
Kisame’s jaw twitched. “He sold us out to Konoha.”
“You don’t know that.” Kouhei said wildly, his eyes flashing.
“He was going to let the codes fall into enemy hands.” Kisame snapped back. He felt on the defensive, as if he needed to justify what he knew was the truth. Kisame had seen it with his own eyes. But that was the problem, Kisame had spent his entire tutelage under Fuguki being compared to Kouhei. Of seeing Kouhei as something to surpass.
Maybe it was not just Kouhei having a reckoning. Maybe Kisame would see a god fall to a monster. If Kisame was strong enough.
Kouhei stepped forward once. “You think that. You don’t know.” His voice shook with something repressed and raw. “You think everything justifies the kill, don’t you?”
“Sensei said the codes mattered more than our lives.” Kisame’s voice was even, but there was something bitter in it. “Maybe he was right. Maybe he wasn’t.”
Kouhei’s hands clenched at his sides. “He raised us. He raised you.”
“He raised us to be useful. Not loyal.”
Kisame didn’t say not loved. He didn’t need to.
Something flickered in Kouhei’s face, something like understanding, or maybe just more pain. Kouhei had been different these last few months, more feeling. Almost human like. It had been unnerving at first before Kisame realized what it was. Ajax. The brat spent so much time with Kouhei that it reminded Kouhei what it was like to be a person again. Something twisted in Kisame's chest. The brat had a way of worming himself under your skin. Even Kisame felt his lips twitch once or twice.
He lunged without warning, and Kisame barely parried the first strike.
Steel met water.Kouhei was fast, but Kisame had trained for this his whole life. The trees bent with their chakra. Kisame didn’t try to kill him, not yet - but he didn’t hold back either. Each blow from Samehada sent shockwaves down Kouhei’s bones. Fighting with Samehada in hand made Kisame laugh, it was like power he had never known before. Every one of his strikes landed true, forcing Kouhei into the defensive.
This wasn’t about Fuguki anymore.
This was about everything.
And Kisame was winning.
He always had been better at cruelty.
Finally, with a roar, Kisame slammed Kouhei to the ground. The younger man gasped, ribs cracking, and Kisame stood over him with Samehada raised. It howled for blood. For Kouhei’s blood. Kisame could feel the sword’s hunger leeching into his fingers.
And yet- He didn’t swing.
Not yet.
Kouhei looked up at him. Blood on his lips. “Do it.”
Kisame didn’t move.
“I would’ve done it to you.”
“I know,” Kisame said quietly. “That’s the problem.” A pause. Then he said, “You were watching,” Kisame said. “You chose not to stop me. Don’t lie about what that means.”
Kouhei didn’t speak. Didn’t need to.
They both knew it was true.
Samehada murmured in his hand. The sword had chosen him.
Now all that was left was proving he could hold it.
Kisame slammed the greatsword into Kouhei’s throat.
A god turned human under the blade of a sword.
Ajax had been sent back to Kiri by Kuki-Chan. She had sighed and smiled that creepy little smile she always wore as she gestured for him to leave. Apparently all the swordsmen were coming back so he needed to go and catch up with Sensei. And if luck held true, Kisame and Kouhei would be there.
It had been three days since he started his run back to Kiri. Kuki-chan had given him very specific instructions and Ajax did not wish to disappoint.
He found himself almost excited to return to Kiri, he would miss the fighting of course. And the blood soaked corpses he would feast on. But it had been months since he had seen Hana and Yagura. And he wanted Kouhei to train him, just like he had promised.
He had mentioned something about chains and Ajax very much wanted to be a part of that. Kouhei reminded him of his older brother. Ajax wished he could remember the name now. But he could recall sensations. The brush of a hand on his forehead, which just reminded Ajax of when Kouhei had-
Ajax paused in his path on the tree branches. His nose twitched. Blood? Ajax smiled widely. Blood! A corpse! A fresh corpse would be preferable but ajax could not be picky when he hadn’t feasted on anything like this in a month now. Ajax switched directions and ran as fast as his legs could take him. He rushed into a clearing and his eyes landed on the feast that awaited him. But his heart stopped for a moment and his eyes widened.
Ajax stopped running.
There were two bodies. One held by chains, and with a hole in the center as if he had been cleaved. And the other laid just a foot away from Ajax’s feet. Face up and staring at the sky. Blood covered every inch of his body.
“No.” Ajax whispered as he first recognized the body of Kouhei. He fell to his knees as he gathered Kouhei close to his chest. “No.” Ajax whispered brokenly. He was holding Kouhei close, his body felt so heavy but yet so light. The slippery blood under his fingers made Ajax's stomach roll. For the first time in recent memory, the smell of blood didn’t make him hungry. It made him sick. “I can’t. Please, I can't leave him here.” He said out loud to himself. Ajax felt the mud on his face crack as he let out the first shuddering cry. “Please.” He cried cradling Kouhei’s cheek. “Please.” He repeated. “Wake up.” Ajax begged.
Ajax gasped for breath as Kouhei refused to move in his. With a startled gag, Ajax released Kouhei’s body. His hands went to his face and he screamed into them crying so hard he could hardly breathe. “Please.” He repeated. Though he did not know who he was pleading to.
Master Skirk? The Great and holy Tsarritsa? Who’s power could bring back the dead? “I can’t.” He repeated. His words slurring as he cried harder into his hands. Were they watching him now? Could his master see Ajax, as he was right now, crying and mourning? Did she understand - for the first time maybe - that Ajax wasn’t just her hound, but a boy.
A boy who needed. Who he loved. Who now mourned a man and could do nothing to save him. And if not his master - then who? Who could bring back Kouhei? Not the Tsaritsa. Why wasn’t the tsaritsa powerful enough to bring the dead back? What was the point of being a god if you couldn't save everyone? Ajax stared at Kouhei’s blood on his hands, smeared over the creases of his knuckles, under his nails. It would dry there. Stay there. The gods couldn’t even wipe it clean.
Ajax could feel his entire body tremble with the force of the scream he held back in his throat. The raw, ugly one he couldn’t release into his hands.
Ajax’s legs felt weak and stilted. Everything he could see and hear was gone. His tears rolled down his cheeks and hit Kouhei’s corpse. “I can’t.” He whispered. “I can’t.” He repeated again.
But what couldn’t he do? I can’t what? He couldn’t say it. Couldn’t speak the words into existence. It would be as if he was admitting his own real true weakness.
Ajax couldn’t save the world. He couldn’t even save his friends. What use was he, if not to use his power to help? To create? To love?
If he was only meant for death - than why was he here? Surely Master-
Ajax felt his breath catch and the tears fell harder. Master skirk. He couldn’t bare to think of her teachings or purpose in sending him here. Because, for the first time, he wondered if she hadn’t sent him here at all.
What if this wasn’t her mission—but his?
And if this was his will, not hers—
Then he truly didn’t know what he was doing anymore.
The forest was silent. No birds, no wind. Just the weight of Kouhei’s body in his lap.
Ajax realized for the first time, he was completely, terrifyingly alone.