บท 2: Silver
Minato watched as the silver haired teenager skid to a sudden stop, no more than five metres away. The boy was wearing a tight dark blue bodysuit with a streak of silver lightning running down the side of it.
"You are?" The teenager asked in an odd accent Minato had never heard before. His tone however was boisterous and cocky, yet Minato could find hints of worry under that bravado.
"I am, not entirely sure," Minato answered, his voice deeper and far more calm than he felt. "You?" He asked
"You could see me," he said, ignoring Minato's previous question. Disbelief was clear and visible on his young face.
Minato didn't answer, his eyes focused on Pietro. His heart was beating rapidly, he wasn't entirely sure where he was, who he was.
He really didn't want to fight anyone, not yet.
"You don't want to talk?" Pietro said with a frown, "Why? Too slow to keep up?" He said with a smirk.
The boy blurred, Minato didn't see but felt that blow as something hit him in the right cheek with extreme force, he rolled dozens of metres back.
"We can still talk" Pietros voice rang through Minatos' ringing ears.
He quickly got back to his feet, he couldn't explain why but that didn't hurt as much as it felt like it should have.
He blinked and was again sent flying, this time closer to the centre of the battleground.
The smoke from the battlefield made the air taste like ash, the ground was unstable and if he wasn't careful he could easily trip.
He rolled back onto his feet, he felt a whisper of air on his neck and before he could even think about it, he turned.
Sharp Kunai in hand as it cut through the air, screeching chakra coating the blade, making it as sharp as he possibly could.
Pietros eyes widened as he suddenly backtracked, he felt a lump in his throat as the blade barely missed his bare throat.
He ran and stopped almost a dozen metres away from the golden haired man.
His heart beat furiously, the man went for an undeniable lethal blow.
The people he usually fights, they don't try, definitely not at the very start of a fight.
This man wasn't an X-Man.
He had to be careful, really careful…if he wasn't, he would die.
—
Minato was shocked at his own actions, he barely had a chance to think before he was about to slash a teenagers throat.
His mind raced, he tried to find memories, clues to who he was, hints to what he could do.
…
Nothing.
He could find nothing.
—
Pietros heartbeat slowed as he eyed the blonde man, seemingly as confused and surprised as each other.
Then he came to a quick, terrifying conclusion.
This…this man's body was moving on instinct alone…
Pietro observed the widened eyes, the sweat dripping down the man's brow, the confusion taking hold at his own actions.
But then a sudden cool and steely look would take over those eyes, what the hell was this guy's problem.
He remembered the words the man said earlier, he said he was not too sure who he was.
He was clearly a mutant, maybe he was experimented on. He remembered rumours about Wolverine losing his memory after being experimented on.
A loud scream broke his thoughts as his eyes snapped onto his sister, she had sent Wolverine crashing into some debris.
The X-Man's chest was clearly impaled by the sharp metal, his eyes snapped back to the blonde man.
The man was holding his head in his hands, clearly disoriented or distracted. Quicksilver's eyes quickly searched the battlefield for any rogue telepaths.
None seemed focused on the blonde man, no one really seemed to even notice the odd man.
Pietro saw the man dropped to his knees, still holding his head.
He saw his chance.
Faster than a human could blink he had crossed the distance between them, his knee crashing into the side of Minato's face.
The crunch of bone on bone wasn't heard over the screams of people, roars of anger and screeching of metal.
Minato was sent skidding past his teammate Toad fighting with the metallic Colossus, Pietro when he went past them made sure to throw a loose brick toward the metal man before he ran back to the rolling Minato.
He collected a metal pole that was floating in the air as he ran towards the rolling man, he grinned when his father dropped his control over the metal.
Pietro was smirking as he wound up the pole like a baseball bat and let loose on the crumpled form of Minato.
A sickening sound occurred when the metal pole, moving faster than a bullet, smacked into Minato's back.
The thick cape on his back tore slightly from the sheer force behind the hit, the armoured Jonin vest Minato wore cracked from the blunt force.
Pietro pulled his arms back and let loose another heartstopping hit that further damaged Minato.
—
Minato's mind blanked in pain as the pole slammed into his back, each hit sending waves of agony through his body.
His cheek throbbed from the earlier blow, and the crushing pain from the metal pole seemed to blur his thoughts.
In the midst of this turmoil, a sudden flash of memory pierced through the haze of his suffering. He was much younger, looking up at a towering figure with a scarred face and a thin, pencil-like moustache. The man's voice was sharp and commanding.
"What makes a good ninja, Namikaze?"
The younger Minato's voice, filled with quiet determination, responded, "A calm one, Sensei."
The man's gaze narrowed as he asked, "And what's a panicking ninja, Namikaze?"
"A dead one, Sensei," Minato's younger self answered, the words drilled into all leaf ninja.
The pole smashed into his back once more, the memory disappeared. He was encompassed in the battle once more.
The sound of battle was an oddly familiar one, he feels like he's been on hundreds of battlefields.
The sound of steel clashing against steel, the sounds of jutsus being announced, rock tearing through the air, lightning chirping, wind shrieking, water crashing and fire roaring.
He needs to listen to his body, he can't ask why he can move like he can or how his memory had disappeared.
That will come later.
For now, he let his body take over.
—-
Pietro wound back for another strike, only to see the man weakly chuck a three prong kunai in the air. The weapon landed blade first into the ground a few metres behind Pietro.
The boy smirked "You missed" he said before bringing the pole back down at incredible speeds. Only for Minato to disappear.
The pole hit the ground with a clang as Pietro lost grip of it in shock.
Pietro blinked and stepped back, his heart started to furiously beat. His whole body screamed at him to move, but he just couldn't.
He didn't even see him move, he felt a lump grow in his throat as he felt the whisper of the wind blow against his neck.
He turned in shock, adrenaline ran through his body at rates he's never felt before. His mind and body knew what was coming.
He turned, his silver eyes meeting the steely, cold eyes of the Ninja. He tried to step back but felt panic rising in his chest.
That panic only intensified when he felt the sudden, ice cold bite of steel as a kunai was stabbed into his stomach.
Minatos fingers gripped Pietro's shoulder and pushed chakra through the boy's body, a small black seal made its way onto the skin of the boy.
The seal alone was a death sentence for any shinobi.
His other hand efficiently pulled the kunai out of the teenager's stomach. Blood quickly pulsed from the wound in time with Pietro's heartbeat.
Pietro's pale hand shakily rose and pressed against the bleeding wound, he suddenly felt heavy, so heavy.
He dropped onto his back, his head hitting the concrete below with a thud, though he didn't feel that. He could only feel his body getting lighter, emptying of the very thing keeping him together.
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