Cherry Blossoms and Chakra Strings: The Forest of Death, Part 3
Working on a rewrite for chapter two of A Devil in the Dungeon to keep in line with the one from the first chapter! Should come out around the same time as the story's update later this week!
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The Forest of Death, Part 3
“I’m getting too old for this,” Hiruzen mused, leaning heavily into his chair.
He should have handed this position off years ago. After Minato died, he’d told himself taking up the hat was just temporary, a stopgap until they found someone suitable. But the years had stretched faster than he could blink and now here he sat, older and more tired than any man had a right to be, holding a title that should have passed to someone younger. Someone with more fire in their veins and fewer aches in their joints.
He turned his gaze in front of his desk where three of his finest Anbu stood, awaiting his command. Panther, Chameleon and, of course, Bear. The broad-shouldered man stood at a standard parade rest, his salt-and-pepper hair visible just above the edges of his mask. Ever the professional, even though they had known each other for decades.
“Report,” Hiruzen said, setting his pipe aside.
Bear inclined his head. “The security measures are proceeding as planned, Lord Third. We’ve established tighter patrols around the village perimeter and have already apprehended several foreign ninja attempting to access restricted areas.”
“Anything important?”
“Nothing serious,” Bear said. “A team from Ame tried to access the underground archives, and another from Kusa was caught near the Hyuga compound. Standard intelligence gathering. Amateurish, really. They’ve been dealt with appropriately.”
Hiruzen allowed himself a small smile. “Kusa, eh? I imagined we would have that problem with Kumo before anyone else.”
“By all accounts, the groups from Kumo have been remarkably well behaved,” Bear said. He tilted his head. “Well, except for one.”
Hiruzen understood his meaning immediately. His eyes narrowed, gaze sharpening on his commander. He placed his pipe down, folding his hands on the desk. “And how are our special interests faring?”
Bear’s posture shifted almost imperceptibly, his shoulders tightening. “We’ve been monitoring them throughout the exam’s progression, as you ordered. A full team to each of them.”
“The Ichibi host has already proceeded to the final stage of the exams,” Bear continued. “He set a record for the fastest time in village history while he was at it.”
Hiruzen raised an eyebrow. “That’s impressive. And concerning.”
“Indeed. The Kazekage’s son has been efficient.” Bear didn’t need to elaborate. They both knew what efficient meant when it came to Gaara of the Sand.
“And the Nanabi host?”
“Unremarkable behavior. Her team managed to retrieve the proper scroll some time last night, but they haven’t made any attempt to head towards the central tower. I believe she’s… sight-seeing.”
“Understandable considering how her village treats her,” Hiruzen noted. “And the Rokobi host?”
Here, Bear’s posture changed, a bad sign. “That’s where things get worrying, Lord Third. Our agents observed the Rokobi host speaking with both of the other jinchuriki, both before, and during the exams. They already knew each other and seem friendly.”
The words settled over Hiruzen, and he reached for his pipe again, musing on what they could possibly mean.
The Rokobi host was well known for wandering. Before leaving the Land of Water, she had spent years drifting through the Elemental Nations to sate her apparent wanderlust. Kiri sent several teams after her, but she eluded or simply eliminated each of them until they decided to cut their proverbial losses. Given free rein to do as she wished, it wasn’t far-fetched to assume she’d visited other hidden villages before settling in Kumo. But for her to know and be friendly with two other jinchuriki? Especially the Ichibi host?
That was worrying.
“Double the detail on her,” Hiruzen ordered, setting the scroll down. “But do not interfere with the exams. We can’t afford an international incident, not with the Daimyo watching.”
Bear turned to his left, where a woman in a panther mask stood motionless. He gave her a sharp nod, which she returned before vanishing in a swirl of leaves.
Hiruzen leaned back in his chair, feeling older than ever before. He stared up at the ceiling. “Maybe I should have refused to host the Exams in our village this year. The revenue will be substantial, but all of this trouble may not be worth it. If one of these hosts breaks loose…”
“We will handle it,” Bear said firmly. “We are much better prepared than we were fourteen years ago, and now that Kushina-sama isn’t pregnant, she would be a great help if something did happen.”
Hiruzen chuckled, though the sound held no real mirth. “Perhaps.”
Internally, though, he felt no such confidence. He had decades of experience and the Will of Fire still burned in his veins, but it would be foolish to ignore his advanced age and the fact that his body had begun to fail him in small ways. Ways that would cost him dearly in a fight against an opponent worthy of the name. He didn’t have another battle like that in him. And if it came to that, if Kushina was forced to join such a fight and possibly compromise her own seal, well.
The village might not survive another attack from a rampaging demon fox.
A sharp tap came from the nearby window. Bear and Hiruzen looked over while Chameleon tensed, his hand drifting toward the hilt of his sword.
A man with white hair and a horned headband was kneeling on the windowsill, peering into the room with a sheepish grin. “Sorry, mind if I cut in here?”
“Jiraiya,” Hiruzen said, genuinely surprised to see his student. “I didn’t expect you back until later this month. Did you decide to skip your tour of the bathhouses on your way back?”
Jiraiya’s grin widened as he climbed through the window, landing on the office floor with practiced ease. “Now, now, sensei. A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell.”
“You’re no gentleman,” Bear said flatly, gesturing to his subordinate who sheathed his blade.
“And you’re as stiff as ever, old friend.” Jiraiya clapped the Anbu commander on the shoulder, earning a sharp look that the Toad Sage completely ignored. “But you’re right. I did skip the bathhouses. Something came up that I thought you should know about.”
Jiraiya pulled a folded map from his flak jacket, spreading it across Hiruzen’s desk. Small markers dotted its surface, scattered across the Elemental Nations in seemingly random locations.
“I’ve been looking into those rumors like you asked,” Jiraiya said, his tone losing its playful edge. “Bandits and rogue nin working together isn’t exactly uncommon, but the reports you gave me were concerning enough to take a look.”
Hiruzen leaned forward, studying the map. “And? What have you found?”
“It’s a good thing we investigated.” Jiraiya tapped one of the markers with a calloused finger. “I’ve found a concerning pattern. Several powerful missing-nin have vanished in recent months. And nobody’s turned in their bounties.”
“Vanished?”
“Off the radar entirely. Kisame Hoshigaki, the Tailless Tailed Beast? Gone. Sasori of the Red Sands? Disappeared in the middle of testing his poison on villages all over Wind country. Others have just up and vanished too, from all over the place,” Jiraiya’s jaw tightened. “These aren’t small-time threats, Hiruzen. They don’t just drop off the map.”
Bear shifted beside the desk, his posture rigid. “You think they were recruited?”
“I believe someone is collecting them.” Jiraiya straightened, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’ve found only one thread connecting the disappearances. It points north, into the Land of Iron.”
Hiruzen’s brow furrowed. “Samurai territory.”
“Exactly. Shinobi aren’t exactly welcome up there, which makes it the perfect place to hide something you don’t want found.” Jiraiya’s eyes met Hiruzen’s. “Whatever’s brewing, it’s bigger than scattered bandit raids or some particularly opportunistic missing nin.”
The silence stretched through the office. Hiruzen studied the map, tracing the dots with a tired gaze.
“The Chunin Exams draw attention from every major village,” Bear said quietly. “If someone wanted to make a move while the nations are focused elsewhere...”
“Then this would be the time to do it,” Jiraiya finished. “I’m not saying it’s connected, but the timing is convenient.”
Hiruzen leaned back in his chair, his pipe forgotten. “Keep at it. Once the exams are over, I want you to follow that thread into the Land of Iron. Discreetly. Hopefully it’s nothing, but if it is, we need to be on top of the situation.”
Jiraiya nodded, rolling the map and stowing it away. “I’ll head out as soon as the finals conclude.”
The Toad Sage collected his map and made for the window, pausing with one leg already on the sill. “Try not to let the village burn down while I’m gone, old man.”
“I make no promises,” Hiruzen replied dryly.
Jiraiya vanished into the afternoon light, leaving the Hokage alone with his thoughts and the weight of mounting threats pressing down on his shoulders.
“I’m getting too old for this shit.”
~~~
The world snapped back into focus with a swirl as the seal spat them out.
Somewhat used to it, Sakura managed to get her feet underneath her and land in a crouch while the rest of her team tumbled around her in a heap of limbs. Yuta crashed down beside the sled, barely managing to catch himself before he crushed his teammates. The sled itself skidded across the floor, Mei and Ren sliding off in an undignified pile as the ties came undone in the crash.
“Ow…” Tsu groaned as she got back to her feet, one hand coming up to rub her head. “You could have warned us Sak–”
She stopped, as did everyone but Sakura as they took in their surroundings.
They were in a vast cavern stretching deep into darkness. Walls of packed earth curved upward toward a high ceiling covered in stalactites that caught the light pouring in from outside. Thick silk strands crisscrossed the ceiling and clung to the walls.
And most importantly, filling every corner and clinging to every surface, were thousands of spiders.
They ranged from the size of dogs to the size of horses, their many eyes reflecting the fungal glow like scattered stars. They moved with purpose, skittering along walls and ceiling, carrying cocoons wrapped in silk, tending to eggs the size of watermelons.
Though she had been here before, Sakura was still astounded by the sight. Her team and the Kiri team were… a little less excited.
“Welcome home, Little Weaver.”
The voice came from above and they looked up as one as a shape detached from the shadows at the far end of the cavern, descending on legs that spanned the width of a small house. Shibarime settled onto the ground in front of them, her many eyes regarding them with interest.
“I did not think you would return so soon,” the giant spider clicked. “It shames me to say that your gift is not yet prepared. Though your presence is always welcome.”
Shibarime’s massive form shifted as she regarded the others. Her gaze lingered on Yuta, who had frozen with his hand halfway to his sword, before moving to Mei and Ren still sprawled on the ground.
“The forest is filled to the brim with new meals. It seems you have brought your own.”
Yuta made a strangled sound in the back of his throat. “Meals?”
“They’re not food,” Sakura said quickly, stepping between Shibarime and the Kiri team. “We just needed a place to hide from someone hunting us. Sorry for barging in like this.”
Shibarime’s legs tapped against the stone floor as she shifted.
“You are one of us, Little Weaver,” Shibarime said finally. “You are always welcome in our home. As are your guests. Provided they behave themselves.”
The emphasis on those last words was not lost on anyone.
Mei managed to turn her head, her eyes wide with terror. “What is this place?”
“We’re still in the Forest of Death. Just a different part of it,” Sakura said. “We’re safe here.”
“Safe?” Yuta’s voice cracked. “We’re in a cave full of—agh!”
He cut himself off as a spider the size of a small dog scuttled past him. It paid him no mind, continuing toward some unseen destination without even sparing him a glance.
“Safe,” Sakura repeated firmly. “Shibarime won’t hurt you. Neither will any of her children as long as you don’t give them a reason to.”
Shibarime made a sound that might have been a laugh, though it came out more like a series of clicks and hisses. “The Little Weaver speaks true. We do not eat guests unless they misbehave.”
“That’s... reassuring,” Yuta said, though his face had gone pale.
The Broodmother’s attention returned to Sakura, her massive form leaning forward with interest. “I am curious, however. What dangers drove you to my doorstep.”
Sakura took a breath, organizing her thoughts. How did one explain the Chunin Exams to a giant spider who lived in a forest that most ninja avoided at all costs?
“We’re participating in a tournament,” she began. “A competition to determine which genin are worthy of promotion. We’re in the second stage, a survival exercise where teams must collect two scrolls to pass.”
Shibarime’s many eyes blinked in sequence, processing this information. “Scrolls?”
“Heaven and Earth,” Sakura clarified. “Each team enters with one. To advance, we need to obtain the other. We were given Heaven. We need Earth.”
“And this... competition. It requires you to fight other humans?”
“Among other things, yes.”
The Broodmother’s mandibles clicked together thoughtfully. Around them, the smaller spiders continued their work, carrying bundles and tending to webs, seemingly uninterested in the conversation.
“Then it seems fortune favors you, Little Weaver,” Shibarime said finally. “I have caught several humans who attempted to intrude upon my colony. Perhaps they carry what you seek.”
Sakura’s heart quickened. “You have? Where are they?”
Shibarime made a gesture with one of her legs, pointing toward a tunnel that branched off from the main cavern. “Storage. My children wrapped them for later consumption, but if you require them...”
“They’re still alive?” Hikari asked. Their voice was steady, but their eyes darted around the cavern with poorly concealed unease.
“Most of them,” Shibarime said. “Fresh meals keep for longer.”
Yuta looked like he might be sick. Sakura wasn’t sure why; most insects preferred their meals fresh as possible.
“Can we see them?”
Shibarime’s mandibles twitched, and she turned toward the tunnel. “Follow me, Little Weaver. Your guests may come as well – if they wish to remain close to the only thing keeping my children from considering them food.”
“Follow us,” Sakura ordered the Kiri team. “And don’t touch anything.”
Yuta helped Mei and Ren to their feet, supporting most of Mei’s weight as the paralysis had yet to fully release her. Ren could shuffle forward under his own power, though his movements were jerky and slow.
The tunnel was wide enough to easily accommodate Shibarime’s bulk so they had no problems following after her. As they went deeper, the air grew thicker, damper, yet the light didn’t seem to fade.
Sakura looked around, noting that the silk on the walls seemed to glow faintly. There was chakra running through the webs!
Chakra as a light source. There must be a lot in the webs, Sakura thought, before asking aloud. “Have many teams passed through?”
“Many. Since your tournament began, my children have encountered... Seven? Nine? I lose count.” Shibarime’s legs clicked against the stone. “Most are easy prey. They stumble into our territory, panic, and become entangled before they can flee. A few have proven more troublesome.”
“Troublesome how?”
“One group had a fire user. They burned several of my children before we overwhelmed them.” Shibarime’s tone was even. “Another moved with surprising stealth. They managed to escape before we could snare them.”
“Surprising,” Tsu said dryly.
The tunnel opened into another cavern, smaller than the first but still impressive in scale. Thick silk strands hung from the ceiling in rows, each one supporting a cocoon wrapped in layers of webbing, dangling near the ground. Some of the cocoons were small. Probably animals that had wandered too close. Others were unmistakably human-sized.
More were even bigger.
Sakura moved along the rows of cocoons, examining each one carefully. The silk wrapping was thick enough to obscure features, but Shibarime’s children had been kind enough to leave the faces exposed, likely so they didn’t suffocate and die before they were about to be eaten.
Sakura felt a tinge of… something inside of her chest as she stared at all the young faces, wrapped and waiting for slaughter, but she quelled the feeling. She didn’t know these people, and many of them would have likely killed her if they came across her in the forest. Best not to dwell on their fates.
Most of the captured ninja were unconscious, their breathing shallow but steady. A few stirred weakly when Sakura approached, eyes rolling in their heads as they tried to make sense of what was happening.
Yuta hung back near the entrance, his face pale as he watched them sort through the bound prisoners. Mei and Ren had slumped against the wall, but their eyes were wide with horror as they took in the scale of the collection.
“How many people are in here?” Ren whispered, his voice tight.
“Not enough to feed the entire colony,” Sakura said as she examined a cocoon.
It held a girl from Ame, her hitai-ate glinting in the artificial light. A quick search of her pouch revealed another Heaven scroll. Sakura discarded it and moved on.
“Found one!” Tsu called out after a few minutes of searching, holding up a scroll triumphantly. She stood over a cocoon containing a boy from Yuga, his red hair dropping across his slack face. “Earth scroll!”
As Sakura made her way over, the Yuga’s eyes fluttered. He blinked several times, his gaze slowly focusing on Sakura’s face above him.
“What... where...” His eyes moved, taking in the silk wrapped around his body, the spiders on the ceiling, the rows of cocoons. Panic flooded his features. “Oh no… nononnono–”
He was working himself up, beginning to thrash in his cocoon. Shibarime’s brood were becoming agitated as their prey fought back, arousing instincts far more powerful than the basic sentience they possessed. Sakura needed to calm him down or they might have a problem.
“Hey, hey,” Sakura said gently, slowly approaching the cocoon. “It’s okay. I’m going to help you.”
The boy sagged with relief, tears leaking from his eyes. “Thank you. Thank you, I’ll do anything, I’ll give you anything you want, just please–”
“Shhhhh…” Sakura said, reaching into her pouch. “Just hold still, alright?”
Sakura’s hand moved in a blur, a senbon slipping between her fingers. She pressed it against the exposed skin of his neck, depositing a small dose of toxin into his bloodstream. The boy’s eyes rolled back almost instantly, his head lolling to the side as consciousness fled.
“He’ll be out for a few hours,” Sakura said, straightening. Assuming he made it that long.
Tsu watched the exchange, her arms crossed over her chest. “So we’re just gonna leave them here?”
“We’re guests here,” Sakura tucked the senbon back into her pouch. “It would be wrong to take the colony’s meal straight from their mouths. Besides, he’s no different from the ones that wandered into another bad part of the forest. Just… alive. For now.”
“They knew the risks when they entered the exams,” Hikari said quietly. “We all did.”
Tsu’s jaw tightened, but she didn’t argue. She looked at the rows of cocoons, the countless ninja wrapped in silk, and shook her head, turning away.
Mei made a small sound from the entrance, her face white as a sheet. Yuta had his arm around her, supporting her weight, but he looked no better. His eyes kept darting to the spiders on the walls, the ones that weren’t paying attention but could turn at any moment.
Yuta cleared his throat, drawing Sakura’s attention back to him. He was still supporting Mei, while Ren had managed to shuffle closer to the wall, his movements still jerky and uncoordinated.
“What now?” Yuta asked, his voice rough.
“Now we go our separate ways,” Sakura said, glancing his way. “Amane can’t follow us here so the game’s over. You’re free to do whatever you want. I wouldn’t recommend staying here though.”
“You’re… just gonna leave us?” Ren asked, his jaw tight. “After we tried to kill you?”
Tsu snorted. “We saw how that worked out. If you wanna give it another shot, you’re free to try. But between you and me, I like our chances.”
“We’re ninja,” Sakura shrugged. “An enemy today could be an ally tomorrow. I don’t have any issues with you. Though I’m not gonna take it easy if we come across each other later in the exam.”
Yuta looked down at his teammates, his jaw tightening. Mei was still trembling, her face pale as she stared at the silk-wrapped bodies around them. Ren had slumped against the wall, breathing shallowly as the last of the poison worked through his system.
“There’s no way we can continue the exams like this,” Yuta said, his voice bitter. “Mei and Ren are in no shape to fight, and I’m not leaving them behind.”
“So you’re going to forfeit,” Hikari said.
“Yeah.” Yuta laughed hollowly. “I’ll wait until we’re outside and open the scroll or something. That’s an instant disqualification, right?”
“That’s what they said,” Sakura confirmed. “You’ll be pulled from the exam immediately.”
“Good.” Yuta ran a hand through his hair, grimacing. “Guess Kiri’s honor will have to wait for another day.”
Sakura turned toward the tunnel, signaling for her team to follow. Tsu and Hikari fell into step behind her, both keeping a wary eye on the spiders that lined the walls.
“Wait.”
Sakura paused, glancing back over her shoulder. Yuta was watching her, his expression conflicted. For a long moment, he didn’t speak, his gaze dropping to the scroll at her hip where Nuibari was sealed.
“I still don’t think you deserve that sword,” he said finally. “You don’t know how to use it. You don’t understand what it means to try.”
Sakura waited as he paused, trying to collect his thoughts.
“But...” Yuta exhaled, his shoulders sagging. “You could have left us for that crazy bitch. You didn’t have to drag us along or bring us somewhere safe, but you did. So….”
He met her eyes, something grudging and hesitant in his expression.
“Keep it for now. I’ll come back for it later when I’m strong enough to take it from you properly.” He paused, then added, almost reluctantly, “And thanks. For saving our lives.”
Sakura studied him for a moment, noting the tension in his posture, the way his free hand had clenched into a fist at his side. Thanking her clearly wasn’t easy for him.
“You’re welcome,” she said simply. “Train hard. Maybe next time, you’ll actually be a challenge.”
Yuta snorted, but there was no real heat behind it. “Maybe.”
Sakura nodded, turning back toward the tunnel. Behind her, she heard Ren whisper something to Yuta, too quiet to make out, and his low response.
“Let it go. We lost.”
Shibarime was waiting for them at the tunnel’s exit, her massive form blocking the path forward. Her many eyes tracked the Kiri team with predatory interest.
“Leaving so soon?”
“We got what we came for,” Sakura said, patting her pouch where the Earth scroll rested. “Thank you for your help.”
Shibarime’s mandibles clicked, a sound that might have been amusement. “It was nothing. I see you are without your… companions. Are you leaving them here for the brood?”
“Not quite,” Sakura shook her head. “They’re forfeiting. They’re going to leave in a minute.”
“A pity. They would have made a fine meal.” Shibarime’s legs shifted, creating a path around her bulk. “But very well. They may leave unharmed.”
“Thank you, Shibarime.”
The Broodmother inclined her head. “Return soon, Little Weaver. Your gift awaits completion.”
“I will. I promise.”
Sakura led her team through the cavern and toward the exit. Behind them, the spiders continued their endless work, wrapping and weaving and waiting for their next meal to stumble into the dark.
“So to the tower, then?” Tsu asked as they stepped out of the web-covered grove and into the forest proper. Sakura looked down at her newly acquired scroll, clenching her fist.
“Yeah,” she said. “I actually know where we are now and the tower is at the center of the forest. Let’s go finish this exam.”
Tsu and Hikari nodded in unison. Together, they leapt into the trees, moving quickly but carefully through the deadly forest, all the while keeping their eye out for any more insane Kiri nin.