Capítulo 97: Naruto : Domination: Chapter 97
( 25th May, year 14 AK )
The sand was blown in thick gales by the winds that gave the name to the desert country. The sun, unforgiving with its heat, hammered over shinobi and civilians both, uncaring for the inhuman hardiness of some people.
In those harsh conditions, a white haired man tore through the sands, his sensed peeled as it was his habit even while he kept track of his young and genuinely foolish charge. Do I tell him? the shinobi wondered.
Jiraya of the Sannin, like it was his habit, used the long stretches of quiet in order to minimize being spotted to think, letting his mind wander from place to place, to meditate while in movement, trying to seek out meaning that could keep him going even through this war. A war that he never whished to experience.
The powerful shinobi blinked while he kept moving between the dunes, never cresting one for fear of being spotted, and as he moved he reflected on the region, and on deeper secrets that he didn't know how to address. You will teach to the Child Of Prophecy, who will bring peace to the Elemental Nations.
Jiraya shook his head, pushing away the memories of that prophecy: he had enough weight on his shoulders already, and so he returned his musings to the nature of the desert.
The desert wasn't made for human life, and that was a fact. Nobody really ever spent much time wondering about the origins of the desert. Of the world. History had never been a particularly valued subject in the Elemental Nations.
The ability of shinibi to hide the truth, coupled with the secrecy generally required by the nature of the job, exasperated by the 'need to know basis', made the act of keeping track of events worldwide a bitch and half.
Not that there were many people dedicated enough to attempt to find the actual truth of History. The Age of Warring Clans, which could have lasted anywhere between 500 and 1000 years, was a blanket through which preciously few happenings managed to peak. Human history had always been defined by the power of shinobi.
In one way or another, warriors that used chakra openly never managed to gain traction. It was infinitely easier, cheaper, and safer for those pulling the job, to work with the cover of shadows and secrets.
Jiraya sighed while he spied his apprentice in the corner of his vision: a blond bundle of blunt b... stupidity. Damn allitterations, they'll kill me one day. The white haired shinobi thought to himself while he considered the situation. He was proud of Naruto, somewhat.
With enough time, he woud unevitably fall into S-rank, such was the nature of Jinchuriki, Jiraya self imposed task was to shape that potential in a way that would see the blonde bundle of blunt brashness - That's it! Brashness! Truly a literary genius, Jiraya-sama! - not turn into a monster despite the naturally monstrous environment that war represented for the naturally naive.
Would he be better, were he to know about his parents? Jiraya couldn't help but wonder about the topic that he didn't wish to touch with a ten meters pole. Being motivated only because of the history of your blood wasn't something that sitt well with the white haired shinobi.
He had seen what the impossible pressure of expectation had done to Tsunade, even before she lost Dan and Nawaki. Sure, he had also ended up as a lewd old man while his other team member turned into a megalomaniac asshole, so maybe he was biased.
With a sigh, Jiraya returned to his mindless thinking, letting nuggets of knowledge roll one against another until a reasonable pattern could be seen.
Besides an incongruous sequence of legends that someone powerful enough could string together from the oral history of any clan that lived long enough to be historically relevant, and glossing over the myth of the Sage, that was still spoken about only because of the confirmed presence in the world of Tools that couldn't have been crafted by human hands, at the question 'what was there before shinobi?' anyone in the Elemental Nations would be forced to draw a blank.
Oh sure, Tetsu no Kuni was old, the samurai there had long since operated with blatant disdain towards shinobi, who nevertheless left the country be, for a safe place where 'peace talks' could be held was well worth the hassle of manouvering around the katana-obsessed warriors, but even them had no reliable hints about the existence of an Age before the Warring Clans.
And to be truthful, any interest an organization could feel towards any piece of History was limited by its potential usefulness when applied to warfare. And who besides an extremely powerful organization could hope to unveil secrets that even the dead guarded jealously? There was simply no market for History.
Oh, the legends of any random clan of shinobi claimed their bloodline to be descended by this or that myth, and while everyone was more or less in agreement regarding the role of the Sage of Six Paths in showing the uses of chakra to the wider world, there was simply no meaning in History for anyone to rally behind.
In the end, Jiraya abandoned the question: once Naruto was strong enough, hoping that he would sport some form of brain along the way, he would figure it out himself.
The Sannin turned his eyes to the setting sun, calculating that they had half an hour of light still before they had to make camp.
...
Consciousness had returned to her hesitantly sometimes during the late afternoon, at least, that was her hestimation given the slow but certain descent of the world into darkness through the veil of the juta sack her kidnappers had forced on her head.
The night was cold in a way that Karin could scarcely believe. Gone was the harsh heat that almost stole her breath as soon as she opened her mouth, gone was the uncomfortable and rythmic jostling of her hip against someone's shoulder as she was being carried like a potatoes' sack.
Instead, there was an oppressive silence occasionally broken only by the breeze that was just too sharp to let Karin truly fall asleep.
They had sllapped seals at her wrists and on her throat to prevent her from shaping her chakra, keeping it flowing just beyond her perception, making her feel sluggish and blind worse than she had been even when prisoner of Iwa.
The fight that exploded in the side alley once the konoha-nin had abandoned her had been frantic and beyond her ability to control. Know yourself. Know the enemy. Know the battlefield.
Of the three imperatives that Daiki had hammered into her head in the far too short stretch of time that she managed to spend as his apprentice, only the first could a shinobi be sure of. For it was impossible to alway avoid ambushes or outright attacks.
Sadly, she was obviously 'not in the know' about the pieces on the board, and she was far from being powerful enough to be considered an asset, while she lacked any agenda to be considered a player.
Without those pieces of information, she couldn't reliably imagine just who were her kidnappers. That removed the 'Know the Enemy' card from her far too thin deck.
And she really hadn't expected to be attacked in the Capital of the Land of Fire. She was from Kusa, for the Sage's teeth, and she lacked any experience about civilian cities large enough to almost count as a small country. That kept her from 'Knowing the battlefield'.
Yet, she had managed to instinctively fight back. She didn't know how many she had successfully killed or simply knocked out, for the seals restraining her sensing had been slapped on her too fast for her tastes, but fight back she did, and grevious wounds she did manage to inflict. That much she knew, she was certain of it.
Fighting is about leverage, especially in your case, because you are on the smaller side and you're no Tsunade. Daiki's merciless analysis of her weaknesses and strenghts kept Karin from slipping into uncounsciousness, and with that information, with the necessity of planning clear in her head, the Uzumaki frowned in her bindings, opening her eyes under the yuta sack they had thrown over her head.
She had applied leverage instinctively during her fight, not relying on chakra enhancement to be dangerous, even if her punches could shatter bone easily enough when she put her mind to it.
Fighting back when ambushed hadn't been an actual choice, simply necessity. And now, she had to plan. To apply her mind again and again, until she found a viable solution. She would not be a prisoner. Never again. She had to plan, and taking care of the three imperatives Daiki-sensei burned into her mind, she did just that.
Know yourself.
She was alone, so she had only herself to account for.
Even if somewhat stiffy because of the manhandling she had to endure up to this point, Karin was reasonably ready to fight. Her reserves of chakra were untouched, she had been fed, and once the sun went down she had been able to drink aplently. The seals were fairly basic ones, she knew that istinctively.
They weren't targeted for her specifically, and that should leave her some wiggle room. The first step would be breaking the weakest of the seals, after that, the balance mantained by the three would be broken, thus easier to slip through.
Her bindings could be taken care of once she had access to her chakra, and she was capable of moving in perfect darkness, so the night wouldn't hinder her. The seal on my left wrist.
Know the enemy.
She didn't have much to work with there. They kidnapped her, and besides the violence necessary for the act, and the unavoidable discomfort caused by being a prisoner, she was treated reasonably well.
They wanted her alive. Given the fact that none had taken liberties, maybe they were simply a mercenary team, or sent by a Village with precise instructions. Given her disappearance from an Iwa prisoner camp, it could be whoever succeeded Onoki that wanted their Uzumaki Prize back.
But that was speculation. They want me alive, probably almost unharmed, or they would have broken my legs just to be on the safe side. I can dare much more than I could otherwise. And once I free myself from the first seal, I can learn more about them.
Know the battlefield.
The environment would become immediately clearer once she managed to slip through the seals binding her, but for now, she had to rely on her more mundane senses.
The air had turned from scorching heat to biting cold, a difference in temperature that was distinctive of deserts, characteristics exacerbated by the sounds that had accompanied the last stretch of the trip. Probably a desert.
The plan easily slotted together the pieces of information she had: escape was her best bet. She would decide once she had a clear reading on the numbers surrounding her, but if they had managed to bring her all the way to Suna, disappearing once more in the Fire Nation was the best solution, once she manged to get enough distance between herself and her pursuers.
Her sensing would allow her to avoid getting boxed in, and maybe to set up ambushes for the foremost scouts, hoping that they didn't travel all as a single unit.
Under the juta sack that hid her head, Karin bared her teeth in complete silence, and then she fell into herself, her conscious and uncounscious mind searching that fleeting feeling of dreamy awareness of her chakra that would hopefully put her in condition to work against her bindings.
...
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