The battlefield smelled acrid with death and smoke. The tangy taste of chakra hung in the air. It prickled at the skin like static, sending the hair on their arms on end. Everyone on the battlefield was haggard, chakra tapped out and bleeding out. The entire Allied Shinobi Nations were dying, or already dead. Whatever jutsu Kaguya used was calling forth meteors that ripped the ground apart.
The only shinobi left to fight were Kakashi, Sakura, Sasuke, and Naruto. Kakashi had deep gashes in an 'x' on his chest. Sakura's face and arms were cut up, her left hand dislocated with torn tendons, useless. Sasuke had lost his obi and shirt, his pants had one leg missing up to the knee. His whole chest was covered in dirt and ash, marring his pale skin. The Rinnegan practically glowed, freshly placed in his socket. Missing a jacket and most of his mesh shirt, Naruto was barely standing. He leaned against the walls Sasano's wings created, out of breath and wounds slow to heal.
Even with the power of the Sage, the sun and the moon on their palms, Naruto and Sasuke weren't strong enough. They had, somehow, managed to keep Sakura and Kakashi alive, just barely. The two teens looked at each other, the connection they shared allowing them to talk through thoughts. The Sage had showed them another way.
Sakura wobbled over to the boys, her legs close to giving out on her. Her sandal caught on some rocks, causing her to tumble into Naruto. He caught her, his hands tore and bleeding against her uniform.
“Naruto.” Sasuke's voice was hoarse as he called out.
“Yeah...” He still had his hand around Sakura, holding her up. “We have a plan. It's reckless, and might not work, but it's a plan.”
Sakura looked between them, her surprise evident on her face. “What – what is it?”
Kakashi leaned against a boulder, his chest throbbing and head thumping. Sakura only had so much time to heal him before her wrist got torn. Then Kaguya nearly destroyed them with meteors. It was Sasuke's quick thinking that saved the four. Nothing could protect the others, the rest of the Allied Shinobi Forces lay unprotected, dying. Or already dead.
He watched his kids, his team, the children he was given to train who turned into something bigger than himself. They were huddled together looking haggard and war-worn. He noticed Sasuke's hair was singed on the side. Sakura's midriff was showing thanks to her uniform getting shredded.
Then he noticed Naruto's eyes on him. Something passed over the blonde's face as Sasuke whispered beside him. The crystal blue eyes darkened and shimmered in the purple glow of the Susano. The three began a slow walk toward their former sensei.
“Kaka-sensei,” Naruto began, kneeling down in front of him. “We have an idea.” His mouth turned to a frown as he glanced between his two teammates. “There's a way we can stop this.” Naruto waved his hand around, indicating the whole war and situation in general. “We can give the world a second chance, but we need your help.”
Sasuke, who remained standing, crossed his arms and looked down at him. “The Sage showed Naruto and I a jutsu for time travel.”
Kakashi's eyes widened. He couldn't have heard that right. Time travel is impossible, can't happen, not logical.
“It's the Rinnegan, sensei.” Sakura explained. “With enough chakra, we can send you back.”
“Wait, send me back?” Kakashi's eyes snapped to hers. “No. One of you would make more sense. I can't go back.”
“Kakashi.” Sasuke cut him off. “The Sage refilled our chakra. Sakura still has a decent supply left. You, however, are nearly done. You are the obvious choice to send back.”
He tried to stand up, but he stumbled. Sakura caught him before he fell flat on his face. “Sensei, please. Just listen. We've discussed this, at length.”
His throat closed up as he looked at his pupils, his kids. They all grew up too fast, lost their innocence too soon. They were all so smart, so powerful. And they got that way on their own, with no help from him. “I – I screwed up at every turn. I hid things from you, didn't take care of you.” He looked at Sasuke with pleading eyes. “I let you stew in your hatred, never tried to bring you out of it. I was never your sensei when I needed to be.” He motioned toward Sakura. “And you, I saw your insecurities and just left you to deal with them on your own. And Naruto...I didn't do anything right with you.”
With a sad smile on his face, Naruto hit his knees in front of his beloved sensei. He took in the fear in Kakashi's eyes. “Sensei...you helped me in ways you will never know. There was never a moment you made me feel as if I was the demon the village thought of me as. You pushed me to become stronger, better than I was. And I understand why you didn't want to be closer to me. I've met my parents, sensei. I look just like them. It had to be hard to look at me and not see them.”
“That's not an excuse, Naruto.” Kakashi ran a shaky hand through his hair, it was covered and dirt and grime. “I was so lost in my own grief I never fully let myself care about you guys.”
Sakura huffed out a laugh from her place beside Kakashi. “Oh, sensei, you're such a liar. You tried so hard to deny it, but you cared about us so much. We sensed it.”
There was a choked sound from Kakashi as he bent his head forward. “It wasn't enough. I was never enough.”
He felt a strong hand on his shoulder. When he looked up, he saw mismatched eyes staring back. “Kakashi. It's not like you to wallow in self-doubt. This is your chance to make everything right.”
Sakura leaned in front of his face. “When you go back, don't let me fawn all over Sasuke. Put my head in the game, make me work as hard as the boys. Push me into medic training early so I can save these two when they get hurt.” She hiked a thumb toward her teammates.
“Tell me about my parents.” Naruto chimed in. “I can handle it, I promise. It will make me want to learn about them, about my clan. There's so much more I could be...you can make me that. I know you can. Push me. Don't let me give up. And always remember, sensei, I learn best by doing not from lectures.” He said the last part with a wink.
Sasuke took a pause, closing his eyes to gather his thoughts. “I was alone. For the longest time I thought that is what I wanted. When Team 7 was formed, I felt like they would bring me down, be a liability, make me weaker. I was told to live in anger, to hate and get stronger with the hate. But...being with you guys reminded me what it felt like to have a family.” He took a deep breath, as if the words coming out were actually hurting him. “Orochimaru's curse seal...it puts thoughts into your head. It makes you believe he is the only one who could help you. I was in a dark place for a long time. Kakashi, don't let me kill my brother. Please.”
Their minds were made up, Kakashi could see that. There was nothing he could do or say to change it. In their heads, this was the only way. The air was stagnant inside of Susano's protective wings. Everything was coated in a purple glow that glinted off of every reflective surface around them.
“Sensei.” Naruto prompted. “It's time to go.”
Tears welled up in Kakashi's eyes as he looked at his students. “Wait, just...” He felt for someone's hand to hold and pulled them forward. It was Sasuke who fell into his shoulder. He flailed out again, gripping a mesh shirt and pulling forward. He caught Sakura next, having all of his kids in his arms again. “You need to know, all of you. I'm so proud of you all.”
Sasuke was tense in the hug, as if it was taking his willpower to hold him there. Naruto and Sakura, however, melted into him as if this what they'd needed to hear. With a jolt to his heart, Kakashi realized they probably did need to hear it. He'd never said it before.
Sasuke allowed the hug for longer than Kakashi had expected before he pulled back. “Kakashi.”
He nodded and reached for help to stand up. Sakura and Naruto took each side, pulling him up by the armpits. Wavering and hunched over, he locked his knees and held still. Sasuke stood in front of him, Naruto and Sakura flanking him, hand on his shoulder. A flurry of hand signs and Sasuke closed his right eye, focusing on Kakashi with the Rinnegan. A tear ripped behind him, black and purple dancing around inside the opening.
“You can do this, sensei.” Sakura smiled.
A nagging question tugged at Kakashi's mind, but he was afraid of the answer. He had to know, though. “What will happen to you three?”
“We will cease to exist.” Sasuke said simply.
Naruto nudged at Sasuke, a silent reprimand. “We're aiming for before the chuunin exams. It depends on how much chakra we have. Kurama is helping, but he doesn't have his full reserve right now.”
“You will wake up in your body as you were then, but you will have all of these memories. So you can stop what needs stopped and change was needs changed.” Sakura tilted her head and smiled. It was so nostalgic Kakashi could have cried.
“No pressure, sensei.” Naruto added with a smirk.
There was a wind-heavy whistle sound coming from the tear behind Kakashi. He sent a glance to it before turning back to his kids. He'd always thought of them as his. No matter what they did, who they become, he would always –
“I love you kids.”
Sasuke's eyes widened, his face slack in shock. Then he schooled it again, blank of emotion. Naruto and Sakura teared up, lips wobbling.
“Step into the portal...sensei.” Sasuke's voice was low as he said the honorific the first time to Kakashi.
It didn't go unnoticed by anyone. They all sensed the shift around them, the click in Sasuke's mind as he fully realized what happened, what he lost when he left. He had a second chance, they all did. It was on Kakashi's shoulders. It wasn't fair, but it was the only way. One last look at his kids, as how they were now, and Kakashi slowly turned around. With haggard, slow steps, he hobbled toward the tear in time behind him.
It felt like a tug behind his navel, someone reaching inside of him and pulling. His ears rang, his vision spun in front of him. Kakashi shut his eyes tight, his stomach lurching and twisting.
Then nothing. Darkness.
The man felt like he was floating, his body felt weightless and detached. An innumerable amount of memories were flying by him. The memories created a cacophony of noise and there was a distant sound of crying echoing around him. The images continued to flash by. They were overlapping one another, they were becoming more distorted and the sounds growing more incoherent. The sounds of terrified screams, cries of pain, rumbling and explosions permeated through the dark space. The dissonance of sounds echoed from the memories. He heard a name being spoken again and again, sometimes in a fond tone, other times in an exasperated intonation. The images shifted and the name was followed by screams and finally anger and heightened grief.
Eren Eren Eren.
He gazed upon the vague memories and saw a young child with eyes like glittering emeralds and thick sandy hair; a young boy who woke up alarmed crying from a nightmare, his sister, a young girl with hair as dark as the night and overly mature eyes peered down at him in concern. He tried to reach forward to the memory to grasp it but it slipped away like streaming water. The sounds of the girl's voice was drifting away. He held onto her name desperately.
He watched solemnly, feeling torn as the memories began shifting more rapidly, memories of who he was drifting by him. He knew deep down that those memories belonged to him. He saw himself as a young boy, standing in the cold, outside an old rundown cottage. His small form was bloodied and he was glaring angrily at his father as the man stared back at him with wide eyes, eyes that conveyed concern and held an inkling of fear. He heard the distorted sound of his own voice, rebuking his father's claims that he had killed men.
I disposed of some dangerous beasts. Mere animals that just happened to resemble humans.
The memory slipped away before he could grasp it. The image of his father disappeared like quicksand. He did not get his name...What was his father's name? He felt sick with loss. He did not get to say goodbye; he never got to thank him for raising him. Everything around him grew darker. The small fractions of light was omitting from the shifting images that flew by. The memories moved at a quicker speed, the years passing away in a flurry of unclear scenes as he watched himself grow older, always accompanied by his sister and a friend. More memories became imbedded into his mind. He saw a young boy with inquisitive eyes like the calm seas and hair like the shining sun.
He held onto the name tightly as his heart clenched in pain and longing.
Armin, Armin, Armin.
He watched as the years passed by and he grew older, faced many terrors and became hardened by an ugly and cruel world. He watched as he grew into something hated, something vile that invoked fear in those around him. A monster, a demon, a titan. He watched the memories of people running in fear, of him being chained and shackled, of his humanity being questioned.
What are you?
He watched his two companions change, hardened through battle, grief and loss. He watched them turn from young children to hardened soldiers, their gazes growing dark and weary from long long battles.
A person who cannot sacrifice everything, cannot change anything.
More names became clear to him. More memories sped by him.
Jean, Sasha, Connie, Hanji, Levi.
Comrades of a life lost to him.
The voices became more and more unclear and the images grew more distorted, fragmented into small pieces as everything came to a close. His life slipped away and everything descended into darkness. He felt himself falling and falling into the darkness. He closed his eyes in acceptance, accepting his death, accepting that his life had ended. He did everything he could. The rest was up to them. His fight was over.
The sounds of the distant cries became louder and louder, more forefront and he frowned to himself, searching the darkness for the cause of the distressed sounds. The infantile cries continued around him, becoming more shrill and anxious as the moments passed. He frowned to himself, the sound was very grating to his dulled senses. The loud cries continued, coming from everywhere in the dark vicinity. The sound grew tiresome and irritating very quickly. He wanted the noise to stop, feeling it grating on his peaceful state. Wasn't death supposed to be peaceful? Quiet? Silent?
Death was the absence of life and yet...he was surrounded by the sound of the living. The cries of a newborn. He looked around him in alarm, trying to pinpoint the sound. Everything was dark. The darkness seemed to stretch on and on. He was suspended in a space with no end or beginning. He frowned heavily to himself as the cries grew louder and louder, drawing closer and closer to him. The cries were desperately trying to reach out to him, latching onto his suspended airy form and taking a tight hold of him.
Where was the noise coming from? He thought in distress and annoyance. He couldn't see a damn thing. Everything was dark and he began feeling unbearably hot. His entire body was burning and he could not move his limbs.
The last thing he remembered was closing his eyes as he accepted the final blow that ended his life. Did he live through it? He felt sick to his stomach. The heat was familiar; his entire body was burning. It felt like he was back in his titan form. The heat was searing and oppressive, surrounding him from all sides. He felt his awareness slowly coming back to him, his senses growing sharper and more alert as his body grew heavier and heavier. The darkness began to recede and he saw the rays of light break through the vast, empty space.
The infant blinked his eyes open tiredly. His eyelids felt so heavy and he whined in discomfort, slipping his eyes shut as they were assaulted by the sharpness of the bright lights.
He tried again, opening his eyes more slowly and carefully, looking away from the bright lights on the ceiling. He blinked at his surroundings, confusion filling him as he attempted to move his body.
He was alive.
Why was he alive? He was supposed to be dead...
He felt a sense of dread fill him at the possibility that he somehow had survived... How? It was all supposed to end with him. The shrill crying continued and he tilted his head to the side in confusion, looking around for the source of the noise. He blinked slowly, avoiding the bright lights on the ceiling, as he titled his head away from the lights. His head felt heavy. Wait...why was his head intact?! The cries stopped abruptly and he felt his heart rate pick up as he looked around him.
There was no one.
He was alone.
The cries...They came from him.
He moved his head to the side, a strange sound omitting from his mouth. It sounded infantile. He found that he couldn't move around much. He could only tilt his head from side to side very slowly. Where did his motor skills go? He frowned heavily to himself and tried to move his limbs. It took a while before he was able to clumsily move his arms. He moved his tiny arms upward in a slow, careful motion and blinked at the small limbs in confusion. He gazed at his clenched fists with a confused gaze. He felt his stomach drop at the sight of the tiny, pale, pudgy hands that were held in front of his face. He blinked at the sight, trying to flex the tiny fingers but was unable to move them. They were clenched tightly but he felt the muscles of the tiny fingers shake in response as he tried to will them to move. His eyes widened...they were his hands.
He was an infant again.
He blinked slowly at the realization, lowering his hands to his sides and looked around. His head felt quite heavy and he moved so slowly, tilting his head to the side warily. The room was entirely bare. He was in a wooden crib with nothing on him, not even a baby blanket to cover his tiny body. He frowned to himself, letting out another infantile sound of distress.
Why wasn't anyone coming? Where was his mother?
Did he have a mother? He vaguely remembered a kind woman with warm eyes who pulled on his ears when he was a young boy. She wouldn't leave him wailing for a long time...the cries from earlier had been from him. He had been crying and no one had come. Why? He frowned heavily to himself. His body felt so hot, feverish and he could begin feeling the pangs of hunger he did not notice earlier.
He was hungry. He had been crying earlier in distress because he was hungry. He closed his eyes tightly. Nothing made sense. Where was his mother? Where was his father? Where was his sister? Where was his best friend? Did he go back in time? He felt his heart clench in longing. Would he see them again?
He made another sound of distress, it sounded like a small whine. Why wasn't anyone coming? He opened his eyes and wiggled in his wooden cot, looking in between the tiny bars towards the closed door. He stared at the door unblinkingly for a long moment. He gazed back around the room, frowning heavily at the bareness of it. Where were the toys? The room felt so terribly impersonal and...so desolate. It was so unfitting for a growing infant. The walls were peeling, old and there was a heavy case of mold growing on the ceiling. He titled his head to the side, gazing at the open window. He couldn't make out much from the current view. Clear blue skies greeted him and he could hear the faint sound of children screaming and playing in the background. There was a hot breeze coming through the window. It was summer.
He gazed up at the blue skies in contemplative silence. He waited and waited in distress and hunger. His infantile whines were ignored as the door to his room remained sealed shut. As the bright skies began darkening, he felt a feeling of trepidation settle in his stomach. He could hear movements, murmurs and shuffling outside his room throughout the day. There were people nearby but he was being ignored. He had been crying and whining for the better part of the day but he had been ignored. He was being neglected for reasons unknown to him. The sun was beginning to set and the infant closed his eyes tightly, the pangs of hunger were unbearable but there was nothing he could do.
He ceased his whining as he watched the sun begin to sink into the horizon. If they ignored his shrill wails earlier, his tiny whines would not make any difference. Nothing was making sense to him. He was not back in his home, all his memories were vague and he felt an anger begin to build inside him as the night grew closer. The anger felt familiar and it offered him a small semblance of comfort. He felt unsettled by the bare and decrepit room that was unfamiliar. His parents were not around. His mother would have never ignored the cries of an infant. He remembered a loving and kind woman. His father...he couldn't remember much... but from the memories he gleamed he knew that the man genuinely cared for him.
He needed answers. Where was he? Who was he? Did he have a name here? Why was he left alone? The skies began darkening and he felt his eyelids grow heavy in fatigue. He pressed his tiny curled hands against his stomach, scowling to himself darkly, refusing to whine against the pangs of hunger. He was being ignored, he was being neglected, he was being starved. Something was seriously wrong. He felt his anger spike at the people outside his door, the people willfully ignoring him, ignoring a tiny infant who needed care and love.
He cursed them in his head, his eyes darkening in a hot, simmering rage.
Uzumaki Naruto has never let his presentation as an omega define how strong, and how determined he can be. In fact, most people mistakenly believe him to be an alpha upon first meetings, his scent having been described as “very brawny for an omega.” Growing up on the sandy beaches of his hometown, he has made a name for himself amongst competitive surfers. With a title like “water demon,” it was hard for people not to take him seriously once they were beneath the swell of the waves, even if he was the only omega competing.
After a long day of practice, Naruto found himself lying adrift on his surfboard -- fingers carding gentle through the top of the waves, while he looked up into the orange of the setting sky. It was pure peace for one who loved the water more than he loved the sandy shore. But when something bumps his board and sends him tipping over into the current, he feels fear in the ocean for the first time. He thinks he’s about to come face to face with a shark, wishing to make Naruto his next meal. Instead, he finds himself staring straight into the bright-red, patterned eyes of a creature he never knew existed.
It's hard to catch a wave, but it's even harder to stay on top.
And she returned to him. He hastily wrote on the student books in small, beautiful handwriting. Coming close to him, she ran her hand over his gray temple, stroking his head. And this serious man is my lover. Wow.
Down. This was especially noticeable when she wore jeans or a tight cut dress. Her character is not very strict and one cannot say that she is soft. But from the opposite sex she did not let anyone near her and remained faithful to her husband.
From these touches she becomes more and more excited, her breathing quickens, interrupted by moans. She I couldn't sleep for half the night. Tossing and turning. Finally, unable to bear it, at about 4 o'clock in the morning, I got up and closed the door to the room with two locks.
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Too small for this. Everything was cute until the moment when Boris got drunk and dragged all his friends to his home. Having spent a lot on sweets and a cinema, he decided to show off and sponsored everyone for a beer and a snack.