Naruto : Wind of Catastrophe

"That wasn't a jutsu." All in all, it's a good tactic for the average shinobi. Regular chakra dissipates almost as soon as it leaves the body, and most genin don't even know any elemental ninjutsu, let alone have the skills to manipulate the elements without the aid of hand seals.

Good thing I'm not an average shinobi.

...

A few minutes of, ahem, persuasion later and I turn away from the stall, stuffed cat in hand. Petty victory achieved, I hold the cat out to Sakura.

"For me?" She asks, a cute little blush dusting her cheeks.

"I got it for you," I say, grinning my most charming and not-awkward grin.

I'll admit that the mission falls very slightly to the wayside after that. We play some more games, watch a few performances, have a large sum of fun, and not much gets done. We don't find any cultists, that's for sure. But I guess it could count as teambuilding?

It's a stretch, but I can make it work.

We're strolling through the throngs of villagers, the festival in full swing now, on our way to a puppet show when a stand catches my eye, just outside the reaches of the festival. I snatch up Sakura's hand and drag her stumbling along behind me.

The ramen stand is brightly lit by the sunlight streaming in from the entrance, and several comfy looking stools line the bar. There are only a couple other customers inside the place besides us, for obvious reasons, so I grab one of two open spots right in the middle and sit down.

"I'll take a large bowl of miso, and throw a pork on when that one's done," I tell the man lounging at the stall with a notepad in his hands. He nods and jots it down, turning expectantly to Sakura. I twist around see her standing behind the stool, looking bewildered. "Don't worry, it's on me."

She shakes her head, settling down on the stool next to me, and orders a small bowl of chicken ramen. A classic.

"Sorry I jerked you around like that," I say once I've calmed down, sheepish. "I haven't had ramen in a few weeks and was, uh, curious. About the stand."

"That's one way to put it," she says, smiling. I blink. A joke? From Sakura?

Before I can comment on the anomaly, a finger taps me softly on the shoulder. I turn around in my seat, and come face to face with an old man.

He looks to be in his late eighties, a least. Oily black hair falls down to his shoulders, knotted and unkempt. His skin is pale but almost free of wrinkles, somehow, and his bright green eyes shine with warmth. There are crows feet around his eyes and laugh lines around his mouth, but he isn't laughing right now. He looks sad.

"Oh, my poor child." He says, closing his eyes and making a swift motion with his hand around his neck.

I stare at him. "... Do I know you?"

"No, but I know of the poison in your soul." He says sadly.

Was that an insult?

"What poison?" I ask.

He regards me mournfully. "The poison of a mad god."

What.

"I'm sorry- which god do you mean?" Sakura asks hesitantly. The conversations among the handful of customers dies, and even the barman leans in.

The old man finally tears his unsettling eyes off of me and opens his mouth to answer Sakura, but freezes. All of sudden he stumbles back, making even more rapid motions about his throat, where I can see a small chain resting.

His eyes remain locked on Sakura the entire time. The customers give up all pretense of not listening and turn to watch him. He breathes deep, closing his eyes, and only then does he answer.

"A god that goes by many names, and takes on many shapes," he says, voice shaking. "A swing of its tails can rend the souls from men, and a single glance of its terrible gaze can crush their minds to dust." It sounds like he's reciting a passage out of my Academy textbook.

"Are you talking about the Nibi?" I ask in disbelief. He makes yet another swift motion about his throat, then turns to leave, pulling the hood of his robe over his head.

"I can not heal that which can not be healed," he says, as if reciting a lesson from memory. "I'm sorry, child. There is hope yet for you, but she is beyond my help. Only He can save her now."

"Wait!" I shout, finally connecting the dots between his ravings and the robe enveloping his frame. It isn't as blue as I had thought it would be- it only has bright blue trimmings, flowing up the arms and across the back. Still, this is without a doubt one of our guys. He pauses, and I fish for something to say. "Why can't you help her? With the, uh, poison?"

"It is beyond me," he repeats. He turns just enough for me to see his face, but not enough for him to see Sakura's. "If you truly desire help, though, my brother is speaking at the northern gate. He may be able to guide you." And with that he disappears from the ramen stand in a swirl of dirty white cloth.

Sakura stares after him with wide, wide eyes.

...

"Hatake!"

Said jonin peers at me over the rim of his orange book, raising an eyebrow. "Yes, Naruto?"

I grit my teeth, resisting the urge to yell at him for reading his stupid book in the middle of a mission only because of how hypocritical it would be. Instead I just say, "We found a lead to the target. He's at the northern gate."

Hatake's eyebrow shoots up underneath his headband. "Really?"

I roll my eyes. "No, I'm screwing with you."

"Ah, good one," he says, turning back to his book.

"No, seriously, we need to go get him before he moves," I say, yanking on his flak jacket.

"Ma, ma, what's the rush?" He asks, pocketing his book.

"We don't know how long he's going to be at the north gate. We have to move!" I say in exasperation. He thankfully follows me up onto the rooftops without any fuss, and Sakura follows close wordlessly behind. She hasn't said a thing since that creepy old cultist freaked out over her.

Not even a minute has passed when Gai leaps up onto the rooftop level with us, followed closely by Neji. Gai smiles bright, shouting a question over the din of the festival and the win screaming past us.

"Have you found our target?"

"Yeah, he's at the north gate!" I shout back. He smiles even brighter.

"Most youthful! I'll fetch Lee and Sasuke!"

It takes a lot longer than I'd like, and by the time the north gate comes within sight I'm starting to worry that the guy has left. How long can you preach about cult stuff, really? A while, it turns out, as we touch down on a building near the gate and spot a crowd of people gathered. They're all congregated around a small group of hooded figures- the cultists. And in the middle of the cultists is a man wearing a robe with subtle blue trimming like the rest, and a towering priest's hat with elaborate blue designs and the kanji for 'Water' painted on its surface.

"This is not a matter of charity," The apparent priest is saying in a calm voice that nevertheless carries all the way to the rooftop. "I do not seek money or supplies, only willing ears." Catcalls rise out from the crowd. Judging from the way they respond to his plea, he's been at it for a while.

"That's him, right? The guy in the priest hat?" I ask Hatake. He hums.

"Looks like it. Let's wait for Gai and the others before we do anything, though."

"I could handle them all myself. They're civilians," Neji says, the scorn in his voice clear. It's pretty easy to see he's not happy following orders from a different jonin sensei.

"Just watch," Hatake insists, and Neji lapses into reluctant silence.

"Who cares about your demon god?" A man in the crowd shouts.

"Our Cure is benevolent," The priest calls. "His aim is to cleanse, with each of His three tails- body, mind, and soul."

"What the-" I turn to Hatake, baffled. "Are they worshipping Bijuu?"

"The Sanbi, to be specific," He affirms, his eye watching the Bijuu priest grimly.

The Sanbi no Isonade is the Bijuu of Water, and as such is one of the most difficult Bijuu to track due to the sheer abundance of its element in the world. Of the nine, it is also one of the most vicious. It has been known to sweep entire civilizations away with tsunamis created by its three massive tails, and it has sunk countless ships. Fresh water and salt water hold no significance to the Sanbi. If there is a large enough source, it will appear...

The textbook entry from the Academy appears in my mind, and I boggle at the priest. It isn't something you can misconstrue. The Sanbi has killed hundreds of thousands of people and he's worshipping it.

"You're insane!" A woman cries out from the crowd. "Bijuu are monsters!"

"How can a natural disaster heal things?" Another man asks.

"The Bijuu are sick," The priest says. "They have been poisoned and driven mad and Our Cure is the one who will heal them." He holds up a hand, forestalling another round of outbursts.

"Our Cure's goal has always been to heal, and his element has always reflected this. Fire burns and wind cuts, but water soothes. The earth will let you break against it, unmoved, but the water will bend and ease your fall. The other elements of the world are harsh and unforgiving but for water, because Our Cure is the only one to escape the illness that has befallen His brethren!

"He can not do this alone, however. He is but one god among many. So he gifts his ability to heal unto those who are true to his cause, in the hopes that they might assist him in healing the elements of this world. I'll show you." With that said, a cultists shuffles forward and holds out a drinking flask to him. He uncaps it, take a deep drink, and then holds it out to one of the closer bystanders.

"Smell this, and tell me what it is."

The man regards the flask warily, but a few nudges from others in the crowd prompts him to grab it and take a cautious whiff. He jerks back as if struck, and holds the flask out at arms length.

"That's cyanide! You just drank cyanide you fucking lunatic!"

Shouts erupt from the crowd, people shoving at each other to get a look at the dead man walking. I hiss through my teeth. "So much for taking him alive." Hatake's eye narrows.

The priest gently takes the flask back, screwing the cap on and tucking it into his robe. Then he... stands there. Soon the jostling in the crowd settles, and the shouts dull to quiet murmurs. A few people drift in from the area outside the festival to see what the noise is all about, and are quickly enveloped into the fold and shown the crazy man who had just taken a swig of poison.

Poison which should have killed him by now.

"Hatake," I say quietly. "Isn't the kill window for cyanide ingestion a minute?" His silence is more than a good enough answer.

Down below, the crowd begins to realize the same thing. The shouts start back up, people jostling even more to get a look at the impossibility standing before them. A couple break off and run away, others start shouting about tricks and planted bystanders, but just wait to see what he does next. He raises a hand again, and again the crowd falls silent. This time though, in anticipation.

"I am no shinobi," he says, his voice free and clear of the pain and sluggishness that it should possess. "I know no medical jutsu, am the member of no ancient bloodline- what I am is a member of Our Cure's faith.

"It's this faith that protects me!" He continues, voice growing stronger. The crowd watches, enraptured, and I can't help but do the same. "It is this faith that I will fight for, this faith that I will use to heal the ills of the other Bijuu alongside Him. Because while the poison that has infected the eight Bijuu is a great and terrible thing, there is no poison that He can not cure."

A gloved hand falls on my shoulder, and Hatake's voice drowns out the priest and his preachings. "I've seen enough," he says, his voice cold steel. "Move in."

...

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