Curse These Old Bones - Chapter 46

Chapter 46

Konoha

Asuma’s boots made a quiet thud as he hopped lightly across the rooftops of Konoha, the wind ruffling his messy hair as he made his way toward Gate 221. A few seconds of leaping between buildings, and there it was, the caravan awaiting him. He landed effortlessly in front of the gate, his feet barely disturbing the dust as he took in the sight before him.

Twenty-two enormous cartwheels were lined up, each one packed to the brim with goods—sealed scrolls filled with medical supplies, tools, grain, and all manner of other goods. The carts themselves creaked under the weight, their horses flicking their tails impatiently as the sun beat down on the scene.

A grin spread across his face as he spotted Taro, leaning confidently against one of the carts, looking far more composed than he had in the past. Taro had come a long way since their younger days, and it showed. He’d always been the carefree one, the one who could never settle into the rigid mold of the family. But now, something had changed. Asuma could see it clearly. Taro had found his stride, and it made him proud.

"Looking good, big bro," Asuma called, his voice warm with a teasing edge as he walked up, eyes scanning his brother. Taro glanced up, meeting Asuma’s gaze with a wide, confident grin.

"You know it, bro," Taro replied, pushing himself off the cart and straightening up. "I’m handling everything here. Everything’s smooth." He gave a satisfied glance over the goods, his posture far more assured than it used to be. Asuma didn’t miss it—Taro wasn’t just being cocky; he was actually in charge, and it felt right.

Near Taro stood Homura Mitokado, the older man’s posture less rigid than Asuma remembered. Retirement — and Danzo's betrayal — had softened the former councilor, but there was still a quiet weight to him, an authority that had earned his respect. His gray hair, thinning at the temples, was tucked neatly beneath his headband. He leaned on a cane now, the days of intense politicking long behind him, but he still wore that knowing look in his eyes.

Asuma’s eyes flicked over to the elder man, and he gave a brief but respectful bow. "Good to see you, Homura."

The old man chuckled lightly, waving it off. "No need for that, Asuma. I’m no longer a councilor. Just an old man lending a hand to the young Taro." His smile was warm, but there was still a sharpness to it as he glanced at Taro with quiet admiration.

Taro snorted, rolling his eyes but saying nothing, his usual confident demeanor keeping his words in check.

Homura’s gaze turned back to Asuma, and there was a glint of something approving in his eyes. "Quite brilliant, your brother. He’s grown into his role well."

Taro’s face flushed, and he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Come on, Homura, stop."

Asuma’s grin widened, watching his younger brother squirm just a little under the praise. It was clear Taro wasn’t used to receiving compliments, especially when they were this sincere. "Brilliant, huh? Seems like someone’s grown up."

Before Taro could come up with some quick reply, the familiar sound of footsteps interrupted. Asuma turned to see Ino, Shikamaru, and Choji approaching, all of them packed and dressed for a long journey outside the village. Choji gave a wide smile and a thumbs-up, his usual cheerfulness intact. Shikamaru, on the other hand, was already looking put-out by the whole idea. Ino just adjusted her pack, her eyes darting to the caravan and back to Asuma.

"We're ready to go, Asuma-sensei?" Ino asked more than said, her voice steady but with a hint of excitement.

"Yeah, we’re ready," Asuma said, his eyes scanning his team. "Your first C-rank! This mission’s not gonna be like the usual, but I know you guys are up for it."

Shikamaru rolled his eyes. "Couldn’t be less thrilled about it," he muttered, though the tone of his voice clearly indicated that he wasn’t exactly upset. He was just being his usual, lazy self. "Another month away from home. Could’ve been a bit more... manageable."

"Yeah, I bet," Asuma smirked, raising an eyebrow at his teammate. "Think of it as... training, Shikamaru. You know, the hard kind."

Shikamaru just groaned, and Choji chuckled, shaking his head.

Asuma’s attention shifted to two other familiar faces—Kotetsu Hagane and Izumo Kamizuki, two Chunin who were talking with the one of the caravan’s conductor. They were busy talking about logistics, but something caught Asuma’s attention. "Huh?" he muttered. "So, it’s not just my team on this mission?"

Taro, noticing Asuma’s questioning glance, threw him a scroll. "Yeah, bro. There’s two parts to this mission. You’ll find out more when we hit Waves. Dad told me to wait until then to open my own scroll."

Asuma caught the scroll, already intrigued. "Two parts, huh? What’s that about?"

"And there’s another team," Taro added, his grin mischievous.

Asuma raised an eyebrow. "Another team, huh? So this mission’s a little bigger than I thought."

Before he could say more, a voice rang out behind him. "Hi, Asuma," Kurenai’s voice was soft, but there was a teasing lilt to it.

Asuma turned with a wide smile. "Hey, Kurenai," he greeted, his expression brightening, though he tried not to make it too obvious. There was something about seeing her, even just for a moment, that always made him feel lighter.

Taro, ever the troublemaker, couldn’t resist. "Well, well. Look at that. Seems like Dad really has a hand in matchmaking this time, huh? Two birds, one stone. Konoha’s finest team and all that."

Asuma’s face turned a shade of red, and Kurenai’s did the same. Both of them stumbled over their words, trying to deflect Taro’s teasing.

"Shut up, Taro," Asuma grumbled, his voice betraying the slightest hint of fluster.

Taro just laughed, throwing his head back with a loud, carefree laugh. "I’m just sayin’! You two are always so cute together."

Asuma muttered something under his breath, but even as his cheeks burned, a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. He couldn't help but shake his head at his younger brother’s antics. Taro always knew how to make things... interesting.

Taro clapped his hands together, the sharp sound cutting through the chatter of the caravan. "Alright, alright," he said, straightening up with an exaggerated seriousness. "Seems everyone’s here and ready."

Then, with a theatrical flourish, he threw his arm into the air and bellowed, "TO THE LAND OF  WAVES!"

Asuma shook his head with a fond chuckle as the caravan rumbled to life. The carts creaked and groaned as the horses started pulling them forward, their hooves clattering against the dirt path. The team fell into step, the sound of their footsteps merging with the noise of the moving caravan.

Kumo

"Bee!" The Kage's voice boomed through the room, deep and commanding. 

From the hallway, Killer Bee's voice rang back, carefree and loud. "Yo, big bro, I’m comin’ through! You better not be frontin’, bro!"

A’s hand went to his temple, his patience already worn thin. When the door to the Raikage's office opened, there stood Killer Bee, grinning from ear to ear, braids bouncing with every exaggerated step. His carefree swagger was a direct contradiction to the seriousness that was supposed to permeate  the Raikage's office. 

"Yo, bro!" Bee shouted, his voice brimming with energy as he waved an arm dramatically. "What’s the deal, Raikage-saman? What’s crackin’, big man?"

A rolled his eyes, gritting his teeth as he adjusted in his chair. "Bee, shut up and get to the point," he growled, voice heavy with frustration. "I got news, and it’s not for your rapping, okay? Sama does not rhyme with man, and I know it when you add letters at the end of words! I'm not stupid!"

Bee didn’t seem bothered by the tone. He leaned in, winking playfully. "Ayy, you know I gotta speak my mind in the rhythm of life, bro! That’s how I do, bro!" He threw a peace sign in the air, spinning a few circles as if expecting applause.

A’s scowl deepened. "Quit it. You’re not in the village anymore. Get serious." He slapped a folder onto his desk and leaned forward. "There’s new stuff, Bee. About the tree fuckers."

Bee blinked. "The tree—what? The Tree-folk? Are we talkin’ about them big, leafy dudes again? Or you mean the same old tree man? Is it about the strong monkey old guy offing the other strong mummy old guy? Banjo, or something?”

A exhaled slowly, irritation rolling off him. “No. Something different. And it’s big, B.” He paused, looking Bee directly in the eye. "Someone offed Kisame. You know Kisame, right? The shark guy. The one that bites and have a scaly sword."

"Wait... Kisame? Dead? For real?" He snapped his fingers, his grin appearing before his brain could process. “Man, Kisame’s always gettin’ into trouble. Ain’t no way this be the same cat I thought I knew. Who did it?". Bee scratched his head, furrowing his brow.

A’s gaze grew sharper. "Apparently, it’s someone from Konoha. A Sarutobi", he sighed, seeing Bee did not understand what he meant. He was lucky he was as strong as he was — someone this stupid should not have survived so far. "A hidden child of the Strong Monkey Old Man." 

Bee’s mouth fell open, his eyes wide. “What? A hidden kid from the old man? Damn, bro, that’s wild. The old man, he really out here playin’ the field, huh? Fucking like a bee! Floating like a butterfly! Gonna rename him The Inseminator! He’s got kids everywhere!”

A shot him a side-eyed look, irritated. "Yes, Bee. But that’s not the craziest part."

Bee leaned in, eager. "Hold up! Did that same person off Itachi Bushy-Wa too? I mean, that man was a beast—I’d be impressed if it was the same assassin."

A shook his head firmly. "No, Bee. That intel was wrong. Itachi’s death and bounty claim never happened — Fake News from Iwa, probably. But—" He paused, eyes narrowing. "What’s interesting is the Chunin Exams."

Bee blinked, looking at him with a confused expression. "The Chunin Exams? Bro, you tellin’ me the Chunin Exams are still a thing? What’s so special about that?"

A leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Konoha. They’re going to broadcast it. Continent-wide.”

Bee’s face twisted in disbelief. “Wait, hold up. You sayin’ the Chunin Exams are gonna be on the big screen? Like, everyone’s gonna be watchin’ that mess? Man, ain't nobody got time for that. Ain’t no one tryin’ to watch kids fight for bragging rights. You sure?"

A gave him a pointed look. "You might be surprised, Bee. At first, I thought it was just some hidden villages and rich nobles who were too lazy to make the trek to Konoha, but guess what? Over seventy requests for the broadcast already—and it’s growing. Fast."

Bee’s eyes widened. “Wait, so you’re tellin’ me people want to see kids fight? Like, this many people? That’s wild, bro. Okay, okay, so what does that mean for us?”

A smiled grimly. "We’re changing plans. No more sending those weak-ass teams to Konoha, the ones they’d never think to kidnap. We’re sending a message — we want to look strong in front of the client — so we're sending a different team."

Bee rubbed his hands together. "Wait, you mean sendin’ some real badasses out there, huh? Who we got?"

A leaned forward. "Your team. Omoi, Samui, and Karui. They’re Genin, right?”

Bee blinked, blinking rapidly as if he hadn’t heard correctly. “Genin? Man, no way. Omoi and Karui? They been kickin’ ass for years, bro. I was gonna promote them to chunins in a few weeks — well, you were, and I was about to tell you about it! Samui, too—she’s been a Chunin for two years already, she’s about to be a Jonin!”

A’s hand slammed down on the desk, splintering the wood with a single strike. A’s face was livid, his jaw clenched tight, eyes blazing with fury.

“I don’t care! She was promoted through internal decisions, like most of our Genins! So nobody saw her in an exam. No more waiting around, no more playing nice. Cancel it! Make Samui a Genin again! And you’re going to Konoha, Bee. You’re going there to tear down their opposition!”

Bee’s jaw dropped. "You… what? Samui? A Genin again? Man, bro, she’s gonna be pissed." He paused for a second, then broke into his usual grin. "But hey, if that’s what you want, bro, I’m with it. I’ll get my team together. But, bro, if she asks, don’t look at me."

The secretary walked into the room, unfazed by the chaos. He calmly picked up the broken wood from the desk, as two more ninjas entered to replace it with a new one.

A turned to look at Bee, his face hardening. “I want results, Bee. Konoha’s idea—our opportunity. We’re going to use this tournament to make our move. And I want your team ready. Get their ass one the field, or do some team building, I don't care!”

Bee’s wide grin didn’t falter. “Awwright, bro! You got it. Let’s go shut ‘em down, Konoha-style.” He threw a mock salute, his usual carefree energy slowly returning.

A just nodded. “And for fuck's sake — you're insufferable! Stop calling me bro! It's Lord-Raikage — or A!”

"Got it, bro"

The secretary sighed as A screamed and broke the brand new desk. 

— — 

Somewhere in Fire Country, near Konoha

Sasuke’s knees hit the dirt hard, the impact jarring but distant compared to the storm raging in his mind. His body convulsed violently, expelling the meager contents of his stomach in a sour gush that splattered against the earth. The acrid taste of bile burned his throat, but it was the smell of blood that truly churned his insides. It was everywhere—metallic, thick, saturating the air like a fog. It clung to his clothes, his hands, his very skin.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his trembling hand, smearing bile across his face, and forced himself to look up. His eyes landed on the corpses, sprawled like broken marionettes around the dying campfire. He counted them again, as if the number might change. Five. Five men, their blood pooling in thick, dark patches around their bodies, soaking into the dirt. He looked away, but the images were already burned into his mind: the slack jaws, the glassy eyes staring into nothing, the grotesque angles of limbs that no longer held life.

And then it came again—the memory of the camp. The fire had been warm, crackling softly as it cast flickering shadows across their faces. They were smiling. Laughing. The first man he’d killed had been laughing. Sasuke could still see it, frozen in his mind: the wide grin on the man’s face, teeth bared mid-laugh, his head thrown back. He’d been teasing one of the others, something about a poorly cooked meal. The youngest of them, barely older than Sasuke, had been whittling a piece of wood with quiet concentration, the shavings gathering in a neat pile at his feet.

It had been so... normal. That’s what hit Sasuke the hardest. These men—thieves, rapists, killers—had looked so human. Not monsters. Not faceless enemies. Just men who joked, ate, worked. Fragile men, capable of the same warmth, the same camaraderie, as anyone in Konoha. Maybe they’d made terrible choices. Maybe they’d done unforgivable things. But they hadn’t been born evil. Who knew what had brought them here? Hunger? Desperation? Pain?

He retched again, doubling over as his body shook with the force of it. His hands pressed into the dirt, slick with blood and vomit. “I’m sorry,” he croaked, his voice breaking into a pathetic whisper. Tears blurred his vision, hot and unrelenting. “I’m sorry... I’m... pathetic.”

“Pathetic?” Dove’s voice cut through the haze, calm yet sharp, like a knife slicing through the fog in Sasuke’s mind. The Anbu captain — no, his Master —  stepped forward, his white mask catching the faint light of the fire, blank and unfeeling. “No, Sasuke. You’re not pathetic.”

Sasuke’s head jerked up, his tear-streaked face contorted with disbelief. “I killed them!” he shouted, his voice raw and desperate. “I killed them, and they weren’t... they weren’t...” He couldn’t finish. The words caught in his throat, tangled with guilt and confusion.

“They weren’t what?” Dove asked, his tone even, almost curious.

“They weren’t monsters,” Sasuke spat. “They were... human. They were just men.” His voice cracked again, and he fell back onto his heels, his hands shaking violently. “And I killed them.”

Dove crouched in front of him, his masked face inches from Sasuke’s. “Good,” he said simply.

Sasuke recoiled, his eyes widening. “Good?” he echoed, his voice laced with incredulity. “How the hell is that good? How can any of this be good?”

“Because it wasn’t easy,” Dove replied, his voice unwavering. “Because you didn’t walk away from this feeling nothing. If you had, Sasuke, if you’d found this easy—if you’d enjoyed it—that would have been the real problem. That would have made you no different from them.”

Sasuke’s breath hitched, his mind spinning. His chest tightened as he stared into the empty eyes of the corpse nearest to him. He wanted to argue, to deny Dove’s words, but something in them struck deep. He thought of the way his kunai had moved—precise, swift, deadly. It had been so easy, too easy, to end their lives. And yet... his soul ached. His stomach churned. He hated himself for what he’d done, but he hated even more the part of him that had done it so well.

“I don’t want this,” Sasuke said finally, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I don’t want to feel like this.”

“You think I do?” Dove asked, rising to his full height. “You think anyone does? The ones who enjoy this, the ones who walk away smiling—they’re the ones to fear, Sasuke. They’re the monsters. Not you.”

Sasuke stayed on the ground, his head bowed, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs. The words weighed heavy on him, sinking into the pit of his stomach. He didn’t want this pain. But the thought of losing it, of becoming numb, terrified him even more.

“I’m proud of you,” Dove said, his voice softer now, almost kind. “Not for the killing. Never for the killing. But for this. For feeling it. For hating it. That’s what makes you different. That’s what makes you better.”

Sasuke didn’t respond. He couldn’t. The tears kept falling, and the bodies stayed where they were, silent witnesses to his turmoil. After a long moment, Dove turned away, his steps slow as he walked toward the edge of the clearing.

“Leave them,” Dove said, his voice echoing softly in the night. “They don’t need anything from you now. Let's go back to Konoha.”

Sasuke rose shakily, his legs weak beneath him. His hands, still slick with blood, gripped his kunai tightly. He looked at the bodies one last time, the faces he knew would haunt him for a long, long time. And then, with a heavy heart and heavier footsteps, he followed his teacher, his mentor, his family member — Dove, the one who wear the animal symbolizing Peace on his face, into the darkness.