Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ Tag, You're Dead ❯ 01-Ready ( Chapter 1 )

Edited: February 11, 2008

 

Author's Note: In which I decide that it is time that I write a full-length story. This is a prologue of sorts. Each chapter will coincide with one of the words in the phrase, “Ready or Not, Here I Come,” thus, six chapters. Each will be in a different 3rd person POV, beginning with Ino, then Naruto, Hinata, Sakura, Sasuke, Tenten - thus including all of the teams, though I am favoring Team 7, more because I'm used to writing them than anything else.

 

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.

 

Summary: The Sound is coming. Get ready to play. [A series of 6 - Ino, Naruto, Hinata, Sakura, Sasuke, Tenten]

 

Tag, You're Dead

Chapter One: Ready

 

She looks out over the walls, her fists clenching and unclenching in her pale blue gloves. They're coming. The bastards who killed Asuma-sensei, who broke her team, who made Shikamaru grow up faster than he should have, who destroyed the man who had been almost a father to her… They're coming.

 

She tenses before she fully comprehends the being beside her and slowly turns her head, blonde hair waving, almost as if she cannot bear to look away from the sight before her. Sakura stands there, her ANBU mask dangling around her neck, her ANBU armor on and clashing with her pink hair, her emerald gaze bright and hard. It is like looking at a vengeful goddess, and Ino realizes that she is not the only one with a personal stake in this.

 

Beside Sakura stands Hinata, the Hyuuga Heiress. She stands tall and proud, the Byakugan activated, and her hand rests on the hilt of the katana she wears, but has never used. One look at the usually gentle face and Ino knows that she plans on baptizing it in blood today. Her features are hard as stone, as cold as ice, and as her long, dark hair blows back from her face, Ino sees that, for the first time, she is looking forward to the kill. She congratulates her silently, even as the girl's lithe muscles clench and relax in a manner that reminds her of a tigress, ready to hunt. The heiress turns her gaze on the Yamanaka, and she shivers at the endless winter it holds.

 

Her gaze shifts to Tenten, who is stiller than Ino has ever seen her before, a far cry from her usual blur of dancing motion. She does not show bloodlust, eagerness, or vengefulness, only a penetrating hatred that can be felt despite the studied blankness of her face. She wears the same armor as Sakura, with a different mask hanging from her neck. Ino envies that coldness, that detached hatred. She wishes that she could be as cold, as calculating. But she is a creature of fire and passion, and does not know that horrible emptiness that Tenten has felt. Tenten would say she was lucky.

 

Once again, she looks out toward the coming enemy. She can't see them yet, but Konohagakure's spies - her subordinates - have all reported it, so it must be true. Gloved hands grip the wall in a useless try for calm. She can't quite achieve the coldness the other girls do so well, but she manages to school her face to a carefully composed blankness.

 

There are other presences beside her now: Inuzuka Kiba and Akamaru, snarling; Uzumaki Naruto, standing behind Hinata, but with one hand on Sakura's shoulder. Beside her stands Shikamaru, and to her other side stands Chouji. Uchiha Sasuke walks down the narrow path, passing her without a second glance, and stops behind the pink-haired medic. He stands behind her, a little to the side, and she reaches behind her for his hand. Aburame Shino and Hyuuga Neji are there now, too, standing beside each other between Tenten and Hinata. Rock Lee's here, in a flash of green, standing to the other side of her.

 

And then comes the part that's gut-wrenchingly hard for her, and she absently wonders if Konoha has decided not to function for an hour that evening. Hatake Kakashi appears, his Sharingan eye uncovered, lazy as ever, but dangerous. Maito Gai pops silently into existence next to Lee, placing a hand on his protégé's shoulder. Ino looks away just as the red-eyed, beautiful Kurenai appears. She's reminded of the achingly empty spot where Asuma-sensei ought to be, and clenches her hands into fists once more. Asuma-sensei should be here, she thinks, as her eyes wander back in time to see the other jounin, chuunin, and even genin crowding along the walls.

 

She glances at the place where Kakashi stands, hand on Sakura's hair. Asuma-sensei should be here, she growls mentally, not wanting to ruin the almost eerie silence, but Shikamaru and Chouji know exactly what she's thinking, and they each make themselves known to her - a hand on her shoulder, a brush against her leg.

 

She'll avenge her teacher.

 

She glances back toward her friends, to where Sakura grips Sasuke's hand in a white-knuckled grip, and where Hinata's hand is gripping the katana just as hard, and where Naruto is soothingly rubbing her shoulders even as his own whisker markings darken. She hears Kiba growling, sees Neji with his famed Byakugan activated.

 

No.

 

She won't be the only one avenging someone.

 

They've all got people to avenge.

 

She tosses her head back and lets out a call like a wild lynx. It's a challenge, and the shinobi acknowledge it even as miles away, the sound carried by wasted chakra she uses almost subconsciously, their enemies shudder.

 

“We're ready,” it says, “We were born ready.”

 

She closes her eyes, her own fingernails digging through her gloves. We're ready. I'm ready.