The Lineage

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.


The Lineage
By 11


Chapter 22
Traitor: Death Match

These bars are becoming too familiar for my taste. I think to myself and my parasite rumbles in agreement.

The burning of his power extending through my legs – but I wind up pushing him away from there. Pushing the pus out of my leg forcible from the inside is just a bit painful.

My legs there look horrible where the snake’s stomach acid started to eat through. I shift and I feel the skin stretch as if it’ll tear clean off with just a simple movement.

I probably can’t walk on them too well if that’s the case. Makes me wonder what I’m going to do for the third trial in a few hours…

Nothing? Not like you’re doing anything about anything.

No, I’m thinking.

Really? What a novel phenomena. What about?

Sasuke.

Darkeyes. Of course. What and why?

I’m debating with myself how Sasuke must feel about me now.

With yourself? There’s someone besides me in your skull?

No, it’s a figure of speech.

And that was sarcasm.

Just a few days ago I was reasonably sure he felt mostly the way I did. He does… feel strongly for me, I’m sure of that. He wouldn’t be helping me otherwise. But ever since that kiss, there’s something else that leaves me on edge.

I betrayed the Order, and yet he’s helping me pass the trials. I don’t understand it. Does that mean he loves me?

Don’t confuse lust with love. He’s got a great body. We want it, he lets u have it. Let’s leave it at that.

I scoff at my parasite, my face contorting by itself at that surly thought. Carnal beast – I want more than that.

What else is there?!

I groan to myself in frustration – honestly, this ‘thing’ is-!! Meeting of the minds, and understanding, and trust, and… well there is more.

My parasite seems to laugh to itself. See? Besides you’ve got all that already. You trust him – he helped you stay alive.

Yeah, but I still don’t understand it.

Do you need to? My parasite seems to huff to himself. Maybe Darkeyes is in love with you. Happy?

I scowl to myself, and hear footsteps down the hall. That’s new, Sasuke generally just appears, I never heard him approaching before. But these steps don’t sound like his. A larger shadow falls to the wall as the figure enters the doorway.

I start slightly at the pale white hair and crimson eyes settled on me. My throat feels tight – I haven’t even spoken to him in person since before the wolves… and he did talk the council into this trial thing instead of killing me outright. He can’t be too mad, right?

“Master. Jiraiya.” I greet keeping my voice calm.

He crosses his arms looking down at me, his eyes are hard and I can’t blame him. He glances down at my legs – ugly near-shattered things.

“I’m taking you to get your legs treated before the final trial.” He tells me, simple, no sign of his own thoughts; then the corner of his mouth quirks upward. “I asked Tsunade so I can get you healed up today and take the third trial tomorrow.”

“Great.” I grin, “Thanks. I owe my master so much.”

“I know.” The guards at the hall stand to the side, and watch as Jiraiya opens the cage. I swing my legs to the side, and force my weight down.

A sharp pain shoots up my legs to my spine and I bite back a sharp cry. My hand snatches out to clamp down tight on one of the bars to hold myself up. Shoot! I knew I wouldn’t be able to walk like this!

“Is it that hard?” Jiraiya arches his eyebrow at my difficulty. I scowl at him, as if the answer to that wasn’t completely obvious.

He laughs to himself, then steps forward to pull my body up against him. His hand and chest effectively holding me upright, while he shuts the cage door behind me. Then that other hand comes up beneath my knees lifting me up. I keep scowling, this is pathetic. I feel pathetic.

“Don’t look so upset – you’ll be able to use your legs in a few hours or so if all goes well.” Jiraiya tells me, smirking to himself at my predicament. Yeah, yeah, laugh it up master.

“If I could mist or something then I could take myself wherever.” I grouch crossing my arms, curling slightly tighter against the cool stony chest. I don’t think I ever noticed how much I missed this guy – he’s so constant and I know he doesn’t hate me, it’s so obvious everything he says and thinks.

He snorts, “Sorry but I can’t take the neck bind out. You know that.”

“I know.” I sigh, staring at the underside of my legs from this angle. They look as bad as the fronts – they’re so bloated and yellow looking, and pus-y and the skin feels stretched.

It doesn’t take long before we’re at the interior. Jiraiya dismisses the guards to the entrance and my master lets me down on the bed – I slept here only once before. Not too long ago.

Then my flesh screeches as his claws rake over the yellow pus-filled lumps. I yelp out and try to jerk my leg away but his other hand holds tight to my ankle. I snarl out and snap my mouth shut when crimson eyes turn to glare.

I bite down on the howls of pain and I watch as his claws pinch and squeeze the skin, and pockets of pus and blood spill from openings in my skin. Shit. My parasite snarls and squirms uncomfortably inside me.

It feels like it takes forever as my skin pulls too tight and I watch red and yellow blood and pus fall out of my shins. Jiraiya’s expression distorted with disgust. Slowly is comes to a stop but my legs still feel bruised raw.

He takes out a large flask and a knife. The flask is opened first and the thick smell of alcohol greets my nose. Then he pours it out over my legs – I howl as the liquid fire burns through the skin and I swear I can feel it rushing into the emptied pores and sizzling burning acid through my muscle and bone.

“Don’t be such a child.” he snarls at me in distaste as he takes some alcohol to his hands and claws as well to clean them of my blood and pus.

I clamp my mouth shut and I feel my tongue start to bleed, but at least that pain distracts me from the burning in my legs. Then he takes the knife in hand. I feel my muscles clamp up – if he even tries to skin my legs--!

But no, he takes the blade to his palm. A quick too-deep slash and he curls his claws into the cut, raising his hand over my legs, allowing the red to drip down. I hiss in relief as his blood cools across the alcohol, and slowly the burning completely recedes, leaving alcohol and his blood covering my limbs.

He sets the knife aside and opens his palm toward me. “It will heal faster if you do.” He tells me, offering the bleeding orifice. So I take it, cool, thick, fluid. Metallic and chill, it’s a full taste and it comes out easily.

I feel his muscle twitch next to my tongue when I lave it down through the groove. It’s a bitter flavor. I remember Darkeyes’ as sweet. I only tasted this once before. Then he pulls away, it’s always so short isn’t it?

“Thank you.” My voice comes out somewhat raw. I glance down at my legs, they’re starting to look more normal but I can still see open pores, and my bones still feel like jelly on the inside.
“Now you rest.” He tells me standing, his palm turned back toward himself, “I suggest you stay off walking until tomorrow’s trial.”

“Another maze? Do I have to fight a dragon?” I wonder at him.

He flashes a sardonic grin, “I can not tell you what the trial is.”

“Of course not.” I nod. “Thanks again.”

I feel his presence receding and I can feel the boredom setting in until something cold and vicious intrudes on my senses and my head snaps toward the covered doorway out. I can see his shadow and I open my mouth to call him, but Jiraiya beats me to it.

“Sasuke.” His voice greets coolly, “What may I ask, are you doing here?”

“I’m here to see Naruto.” And I strain my ears to better hear his silver voice. “We haven’t spoken since we returned from the wolves territory.”

“Really?” Jiraiya asks seeming skeptical. What is Sasuke saying he hasn’t talked to me since then? We talked twice, and I saw him three times… “In any case, he is injured and needs his rest.”

“We’d only be talking Jiraiya. I won’t interfere with his recovery.”

“Hm.” Jiraiya seems to muse, “It’s suspicious though isn’t it? That he has come through these two trials so far with only this minor injury.” What’s that supposed to mean? “I expected him to be I worse condition considering who he is, his brashness.”

Sasuke is silent a moment and I swear the temperature drops another two degrees, my skin prickles. “Just what are you trying say, Jiraiya? Are you accusing him of something?” Sasuke wonders, and on further silence, “Are you trying to accuse me?”

“One of the guard thought they felt your presence twice where Naruto was imprisoned.” Jiraiya states airily.

“That guard must have been mistaken.” Sasuke’s voice bites out, and I can see his scowl in my mind’s eye.

“You may ask Orochimaru if you need confirmation of my whereabouts at any time during the previous trials.”

“…Indeed.” Jiraiya seems to move aside, “I will allow it then. Only don’t take too long. Sunset isn’t more than a few hours time.”

There is a quick muttered exchange and I feel Jiraiya fade, as Sasuke’s footsteps come closer, and he stoops beneath the covering. Standing before me, abyss-like eyes glance over me; then move to study my legs.

They’ve already regained their proper color though the skin still feels sore and the pores aren’t as huge as they were. He seems to breathe out and the stony look to his face and eyes evaporates. “It seems you will be able to walk by tomorrow.” He affirms.

I snort; “I knew that, maybe sooner since Jiraiya gave me some of his blood.” I grin at him, showing my teeth, “Maybe sooner than that if I could have yours…”

I thought you didn’t trust him? I thought you didn’t understand him? My parasite mocks me, and I scoff inwardly at that childishness.

That doesn’t mean I’m not attracted to him. That doesn’t mean I don’t love him.

Tch. Mushy!

He sighs and glances away. I didn’t think he would, but it was worth asking. “Agreed.”

“What was that?”

I sit up farther as Sasuke seats himself beside me, a fluid motion I barely register – half expecting him to meld to the wall of brush back through the doorway never to be seen for another short eternity.

It is his covered hand that locks in my hair and pulls my mouth to his. His cool lips open mine, and his chill tongue that presses itself inside and against my teeth. Until I comply and bite down – quick and sharp.

He moans into my mouth. His blood flowers out like a great gaseous cloud that pops on my tongue. The sweet and tangy liquid flows out over my tongue and I swallow him down my throat. His lips move, now warm against mine and I lock my arm around him pulling him closer.

So soft, lips and skin, so cold but warm and all stony iron underneath. I fucking puzzle I want to rip apart and still keep whole.

His tongue twists in mine and I swallow hard drawing him deeper into my mouth. I can feel his teeth clack with mine and he grunts, but makes no motion to move away. The sweet-bitter metallic red flows out and I drink him down.

I graze the silky inside of his mouth and pull the velvet muscle back as he follows mine. My hand twists in his hair holding him tight. His leather-cased fingers twist in my hair in response. He shifts to move, and I feel his thighs across mine.

His skin burns to life and wet hot muscle pressed back against mine, his feline tongue tracking out the inside of me, rocking his hips to mine. I break away with a groan pressing back against him as best I can – shit I wish my legs weren’t still so sore. Empty rubber skins…

My jaw opens back against his throat and he mewls as I pull his head back, my tongue and lips sealing wet heat over warmed flesh.

His body grinds back down against me in response and I growl as my pants grow too tight – I can feel him through these clothes, and damnit it’s not enough.

“You have to rest you know.” He reminds me, but something in his breathless tone makes me think he’s just poking fun.

“I disagree,” I grunt back at him, catching his eyes again – layers of blacks and grays and blacks and lights so bright and so dark at once. “I feel fine.”

His wolfen grin is my response.

Then his fingers are first to snake under my shirt, yanking the fabric up to my shoulders, and I follow suit roughly ripping his sweater up his torso. He hisses in distaste assisting me to remove the garment before I rip it to shreds.

I can hear it so clearly now – every pulsing veins, through his chest, these lungs expanding again, every muscle full of life and ripe with red. My tongue traces across his skin in its damned desire to spill him open and take him entirely into me.

As much as I’d bury myself in him, I could take him into me and never let him go. He doesn’t mind it and his nails bite through the leather cloth to leave angry stings across my back – my tongue violently tracing his chest – the strongest beating vessel is here.

His hips roll back over mine, hard and quick, rocking uncomfortably so. I growl up at his smirking face, and I’m sure he knows just how painful this has gotten for me. My hand rakes down his side and he moans at the sting.

A short motion and his pants are undone. He gasps and his jaws clamp shut with a sharp clack when my hand reaches in to wrap around him. He grunts and strains, choking back sound, glaring down at me.

His lip starts to bleed, pearly whites digging down too deep. Bubbling crimson to the surface, for my tongue to savor. “What’s wrong,” I smile at him, jerking my hips up against him again, pulling the cloth down to his hips to it’s his sensitive skin against my jeans.

He keens but bites down on the sound, dark eyes flashing in something so like anger and frustration and lust I can hardly stop myself from laughing and tasting that bloody mouth of his.

“You-!,” he hisses, “are making it difficult-!” he chokes back a groan as I stroke him hard down to his base. “-to keep quiet!!”

“I don’t want you to.” I admit, each tiny sound egging me on and pulsing iron and lightning through my blood and veins. Every choking cry or gasp pooling back into my guts and writhing through my insides.

His eyes darken, “This isn’t the woods--!!” he grinds the words out, “-so quiet is important!” I ride him up and down again and he groans out, teeth setting back into his lips.

I can’t help it and my tongue traces over the wound begging entrance to his mouth – a single burning kiss and his hand wrenches through my hair ripping me away.

“Caves echo idiot!”

“Oh shoot,” I wonder at that for a moment, but then again, “well I don’t care.”

His eyes narrow slightly in annoyance but he doesn’t push me away when I twist my way inside his mouth again. Capturing velvety tongue and wringing through the taste, grazing his teeth and swallowing him back into mine.

My fingers rubbing small excruciating circles into the skin of his shaft and I can feel his body shake and his throat a rumbling growl into mine.

It’s starting to hurt so much. My hips squirming by themselves, my insides boiling too high, and the raging need pressed too tight by damned clothes.

It only takes me a moment’s use of my hand to undo myself and relieve the pressure, burrowing my heat beside his and he cries out.

His hips press to mine. My arm returns to hold his body close. Skin pressed tight to skin. Blood racing, pulses high.

I lose myself in his taste and feel – the soft and hard, the cold now hot, bitter and sweet red and metallic winter.

My insides burn and writhe and I feel the coil tighten too much. Too far. Too fast. Still moving. Always moving.

His moaning. Into me. Swallow up, devour. Burning too much.

Then it’s gone and I’m tumbling over. The vibration of his sound as we cry into each other - killing sound.

Losing self. I’m still welded to him and it takes forever.

But still too short.

It’s wet between us, but with him molded to me, I find I cannot care. My fingers still stroking him lightly and his mouth breaks from mine in gasping pants, warm air across my neck and his arms still wrapped tight at my back and shoulders.

I’m so sated. I want him so much. He’s mine. But I still don’t understand. I want to know. I need to know. I gather my remaining power to force words to form, and my mouth to speak, my voice to low too raw. “Now tell me…”

Molten darkness eyes glance up at me, raven-head resting on my shoulder, pinkened lips slightly parted. So pale and pretty and so lifelike now in this buried heat. “What am I to you?”

Pale cheeks flood with darker color and a pained look enters his eyes, he swallows, “I’d have thought that was more or less obvious.”

His voice makes me shudder again and want to curl around him. I want to bury myself in that mouth again… but with that voice I’d love to hear him speak again.

And?

He raises his head and his lips touch to mine, I can still catch the lingering taste of blood and sweat, and skin.

It’s so chaste, so innocent, and when he pulls away, I’m hard pressed not to follow with teeth and lips and tongue.

Dark eyes set on mine, and he does speak again. “Whatever you want to pursue between us. I’m fine with that.”

My spine shivers pleasantly at his voice – his words. I love him. I want him for me, only me. That is what I want. That is what I most desire; right now.

“I love you.” I tell him, my voice too harsh, my hand gripping at the back of his head, willing him to understand that. “I want you for me, only me.”

He smiles, “First you have to survive this final trial.” He tells me, then leaning toward my ear with a whisper, “It will not be difficult for you. Not compared to the other two.”

In a single movement he detaches himself from my arms and hops back up off the bed, back to me. He pulls his shirt down and tucks himself away. I know his skin is getting colder too, alabaster replacing pinked tones.

Dark eyes look back in all seriousness, “You must not falter.” He tells me then turns back and walks out. It’s probably only an hour or so now until sunset and the trial. But I feel so comfortable now. My body sated, my parasite curled comfortably in my gut somewhere.

So when I close my eyes I’m gladly able to drift to sleep. After this final trial everything should work out. He said it himself: whatever I want is fine. I smile to myself; I’ll still have to badger him though. He’s probably just embarrassed, but I want him to say it.

What he wants. What I am to him.

`

The third trial comes too soon. I appreciated not having my arms tied up while in Jiraiya’s chamber, and now the cursed things are back at my wrists, as I’m led up another tunnel. This one looks familiar though…

Ah yes, the arena. I stand tall looking around at the stands, I didn’t have viewers for the first two trials but this time it looks like I’ve got a whole crowd. I pick out the sannin immediately.

Sakura and Sasuke are up there too and I grin to myself noticing the figure on the opposite end bound tightly kneeling to the ground. So it is a fight of some kind. The figure looks male if the short brown hair, sideburns and broad hunched shoulders are any indication.

The bonds are drawn from me all except for my collar and the guards recede. The chains clank around the figure as his bindings are drawn back and he slowly comes to stand and look at me. Green eyes, a dull foresty color and an angular face, and he’s a vampire.

Another criminal? What the heck?

Tsunade stands to speak, but he doesn’t take his eyes off me. “The final trial of tribulation for Naruto Uzumaki, this is a Death Match, between the guilty and this captured regenerate. The winner is the survivor so the loser will be put to death within the match.”

Wait… that guy’s a regen? I start at that information studying his eyes again. I’ve fought regen swarms before… but this guy…

I sense a cold flare and glance up toward Sasuke where he’s muttering angrily to Orochimaru and the snake-like gentleman simple bows his head with a small smile. Sasuke looks angrily back into the arena and his eyes lock on mine.

Kill him.

My body is frozen and I look back at the regenerate… but this isn’t right. I’m looking in his eyes and he’s not some frenzied animal without will. There’s intelligence there, he’s aware of what’s going on here?

“My name is Naruto.”

“I know.” His voice is lower than I thought it might be, or maybe his throat’s just raw. I wonder if he was just captured. Shit he’s talking… that means he’s definitely intelligent. He’s sane, not some mindless beast.

He shuffles his feet, “My name is Genma Shiranui, or it was…” he shook his head and gave a short laugh, eyes locking back with mine, “You know just a year ago I was just a pharmacist at a grocery store. I’ve killed people back when I couldn’t control it.”

“Why do I care?”

“I could die. I’ve never had the chance to tell anyone.” He shrugs, “I didn’t ask for this. Happened regardless.”

My jaw sets by itself something like anger, but not directed at him. This guy used to be like those things? The regen swarms? But he’s sane now, a year of that. He survived this far, that’s so wrong to just end him, it sound like he’s only a little over that year since he was turned.

“I don’t want to fight you,” he admits after a moment, “Or kill you. But I won’t tell them about the regenerates formation. So I don’t have a choice here. They’ll kill me if I don’t kill you. If I win, they said they’d let me go.”

Would they really have? My parasite laughs. Poor regen, they’d probably kill him anyway.

Tsunade would keep her word. I disagree.

I don’t think its Tsunade that told him that false promise.

“I wish I didn’t have to fight you.” I shout back to him, and in a mutter. “This isn’t right.”

He nods, heard me regardless. “I know,” he agrees, green eyes drawn in sad expression, “So I’m sorry.”

Then he’s coming straight for me. I leap to the air and over – his blow connects with the ground and I land behind him.

This is sick.

He whirls and comes back at me at twice the speed, I dash to the right and sprint back to the left as he follows after, fist cracking into the wall where I turned.

This is just sad.

He grits his teeth in frustration and turns to me again. I glare back at him, but it’s not really him I’m glaring at.

This is just wrong.

He doesn’t even know how to fight. In less than ten seconds I could run right up to him and twist his neck around and tear it clean off his shoulders. In fifteen I could toss him up in the air and leap after him and dismember him while off the ground.

Twenty seconds and I could tear out every vital organ he has, trap him to the ground, rip out his throat, keep him still ‘alive’ and peel off his skin and then crush his skull.

In all of those scenarios he wouldn’t even know what I’d done to him – he’d be dead before he could process it all. That’s just wrong. He doesn’t even have a fighting chance. Some ‘final’ trial this is.

It takes his three seconds to run and reach me. It takes me .34 seconds to catch him by the throat stopping his immediate motion. Four seconds to twist his arms behind him and drag his body to the ground.

He tries to flip back with his legs, but I’m holding him down too firm, all my weight and he can’t move at all.

He struggles for a moment and I can hear disappointed murmurs, apparently they’d thought the final trial, like I did, would include someone with more potential power to combat me.

Eventually he stops and I feel his muscles fall lax under my foot. “Kill me.” he whispers cursing under his breath, eyes closing tight for the killing blow. A whispy scent trickles out and I can feel his body shake slightly – fear. He doesn’t want to die.

But there’s nothing left.

Sick.

“I refuse.” I glower down at him, and green eyes look up at me in confusion. I see Tsunade stand as she looks down at me annoyed – probably about to ask me to finish it.

“This is wrong – what kind of trial is this?” I demand loud enough for everyone to hear, and a gasp resounds as they all draw back scowling and angry. Tsunade looks furious – they were cutting me a break, shouldn’t I be happy?

I say kill him and to hell with it! We don’t know him! He doesn’t mean anything!

No. I haven’t killed anything that was sane, I don’t intend to start… that becomes real murder, not just defense.

Fuck that! Idiot!!

“Naruto,” Tsunade starts keeping her voice level, her hazel eyes glaring as if she’d like to throttle me, hands tight on the podium edge. “If you do not kill the regenerate, you will not pass this trial.”

“It’s not decided by best 2/3 idiot!” Sakura calls down in addition, and my eyes turn to her briefly, her angry face glaring down in a veneer of fury covering a raging fear.

I glance toward Sasuke, and his voice claws into my mind hard and sharp leaving embed edges in me.

Kill him. Don’t hesitate. You must not falter.

My jaw stiffens and I think to move back from Genma, but my parasite holds my muscles still, raking along my insides.

It’ll all be over in a heartbeat! Less than a second – whip his head off his head. He won’t even feel it! It won’t hurt anyone.

You’re right it won’t hurt anyone, just this vampire.

I step back from him and my parasite growls in anger inside me, a fury bubbling through my blood that only my own mind can hold back from burning past the barriers that the metal clasp at my neck provides. If he did try and come through it would inject me instead.

Genma stands up staring back at me in a strange mixture of shock and annoyance. “If you don’t kill me, they’ll kill us both. They won’t let us both live.”

I shake my head, “They might yet.” I have a plan. They can’t do this, I already beat him – I passed the trial as far as that. Once I explain the power difference they won’t be able to call this the final trial.

Genma is a good guy. Regen or no, he’s sane and he doesn’t seem bad to me at all. He’s weak enough he’s not a threat. He seems so honest. I won’t kill him.

Tsunade’s lips press tight and her eyebrows draw together in remorse as she glares down at me as if she’s the one that’s pained. “If you will not kill the regenerate and pass this trial of death match then you forfeit the trial and your life.”

I’m about to shoot back my counterargument when a shining of silver beats me to it. A quick shot of silver metal snakes out from the palanquin. I jerk as Genma’s head is ripped from his head – a sharp jolting motion.

Wire?

The wire whips back to the palanquin. It’s so fast I have to wonder if I’m the only one that saw that. I glance down and Genma’s head rolls away. His body falls to the ground. Old dead blood spills from his opened stump of what used to be a throat.

I stare back up at the palanquin and lock on abyss-like eyes. His expression hasn’t changed, still hard and unmoved. His voice echoes in my ears again; a vehement whisper.

I will not let you die now.

---

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