[Red Sands: In Search of the Scarlet Dawn]

The apparent foyer of the wardstone’s building was remarkably quiet, Sakura noted with a growing sense of dread, even as they hurried up the stairs. Their footsteps were light – at least hers and Sasori’s were – barely audible despite the eerie quiet surrounding them. Though her footsteps were quietened mostly by chakra rather than skill, her body there not quite having had the same amount of training she’d had in another life before that one and thus lacking the muscle memory she’d once had.

“I will take point,” their uncle informed them as they reached the spot where she had been swallowed up by the Greblin Type Seven originally. “You two will keep an eye on each other and everything that might come at us from behind.”

Sakura swallowed thickly at that, a familiar nervousness welling up within her at the promised fighting ahead of them on the way to their destination. “Never forget that nervousness,” Tsunade, in another life, had warned her. “It’ll keep you alive – keep your overconfidence in your abilities from creating a chink in your own armour.” It was strange how distant that memory seemed, and it brought a familiar pang of sadness and anger for a life cut short far too soon.

“I am uncertain as to what types of demons we will be facing, so keep your guard up, both of you,” Sasori said, the look in his eye telling her that there was likely a fierce fight for survival about to go underway. “Ren – you actually have training to fight against demons, so keep your sister away from any of the particularly nasty ones, and ones that are… resistant against blunt force trauma.”

Ren blinked, a look of determination settling on his face. “I will,” he vowed solemnly.

“Right,” Sasori remarked, kicking the door open with his foot and lifting his blades ready to fight.

The air was chillier than she remembered – or maybe that was the lack of clothing on her bleeding back talking – and the hairs on the back of her neck were stood up on end as they exited the small building and into the small copse of trees they had walked past to get there originally. They had been healthy trees, the last she recalled, all dark, earthy browns and rich green leaves. Yet right then and there they looked sickly; the bark a pale beige-brown, the craggy trunks lined with black vein-like marks, and the leaves were an acrid yellow.

“Oh,” Sasori murmured, and Sakura felt her heart sink at that, even as her uncle sheathed his blades, grabbed one of them under each arm, and sprinted in the direction with the least amount of trees. She pulled her feet up, trying not to squirm uncomfortably as she heard the telltale sound of branches creaking, even as the earth beneath Sasori’s feet shifted and moved.

“Ren?” she muttered, side-eyeing him in the hopes of an explanation, even as their uncle wove around the roots which burst up through the ground, leaping up and springing off the nearest tree’s craggy trunk all the while sprinting like his life depended on it. “What—?”

“Treinin Demon,” her brother answered hurriedly. “Higher Demon, Tier One, Controller-Possessor Class. Though it only posses trees and other plants rather than Manipulators who possess humans. Very dangerous once it gains control of enough trees.”

Her thoughts strayed for a brief moment back to Yamato, remembering just how renowned the mokuton had been. “I gathered that,” she mumbled, even as she found herself being set down back on solid ground now that they were a good distance away from those sickly-looking trees. And the path of spikes which had formed in an attempt to stop them, and likely kill them before they could leave the wooded area.

“Get back in triangular formation,” Sasori ordered, drawing his blades once more, eyes fixed on the stretch of open grass that lay before them. “I can’t get us by this… horde like I got past the Treinin,” he said, and Sakura swallowed thickly as she spotted the array of demons ahead of them. They sprawled out in front of them, all around the manor, hundreds of shadowy, gelatinous, or more animal-like forms moving about with purpose in any and all directions. Some converged on the shadowed manor house she knew Ichiro was trapped within. Some charged towards the wooded areas, whilst a fraction of the number besieged a smaller, detached three-storey property which she suspected to be their destination.

“How long have we got until our backup arrives?” Sakura asked, side-eyeing her brother then in the hopes that he would declare it to be a matter of seconds.

“I haven’t exactly been timing,” Ren mumbled, looking apprehensively ahead, face pale at the sight of countless demons on their property. It was a sight, she suspected, he had never seen before – nor had he ever been expecting to see.

They were supposed to be safe there, after all, she mused bitterly; it was why her brothers hadn’t believed her when she started speaking about demons.

“The Treinin Demon will ensure nothing can come from the rear – they’re incredibly territorial, Treinins are,” Sasori spoke, once again reclaiming her attention. “So all that matters at this exact moment is ensuring that nothing flanks us as we move towards the staff quarters,” he said, laying out their game plan. Only it wasn’t a game, and the risk of death or severe injury – up to, and including possession – was quite high. “We will move and keep the Treinin to our backs – the forest to our left looks to be its territory as well, though that’s not a guarantee. Ren, you’ll mostly be in charge of keeping an eye on the forest, and ensuring we don’t stray too close to any Treinin. Sakura, you’ll be either punching things, or doing what myself or Ren tell you to,” her uncle said flatly. “Any slime-like creatures, you leave to me – blunt force is useless against those. Any demons which take the form of animals or insects or something similar are fair game for you.”

“Right,” she agreed, part of her feeling mildly rankled at being nothing more than a grunt there to punch things. Yet that was most of her skill set at that particular moment in time, besides medical knowledge, so she couldn’t quite argue on that front. Not that the edge of what was about to be a battlefield was any place to be having mundane, meaningless arguments… Letting her guard down had resulted in bright lights, a flash of pain, and waking up in a strange world where she had brothers, a strange version of her father, and the uncle who she’d killed in another life.

She wasn’t about to die again, that she vowed to herself. A familiar spite welled up within her, fingers clenching into fists as her uncle took point and started running at a reasonable pace along the outskirts of the small wood which would take them almost directly to their destination.

Ren stayed close by her side, arguably positioned on what looked to be the safer side, if one didn’t account for the sheer silence of the wood to their left. Then again, the moving herd of demons on her right-hand side all but exuded menace.

They remained unseen for approximately five seconds, a sharp hissing, clacking sound swiftly informing her that the three of them had been spotted. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up on end, a brief silence meeting her ears for the slightest of seconds. Then the horde closest to them moved, a mass of black, shadow-like bodies suddenly exploding with movement towards them.

Hissing sounds and the click of mandibles met her ears, snarls and ominous screams ringing out, along with the vibration through the ground as many feet and legs pounded the earth as those demons charged towards their small group of three. There were too many opponents, she realised in an instant, even as a sinking feeling of dread clawed out a place for itself in her stomach.

“Get ready,” Ren murmured, continuously glancing over to the forest, looking outright terrified at the thought of anything bursting out from between the dark, far too long shadows of the trees. “Here they come.”

“I can see that,” she muttered, heartrate ratcheting in her chest as she readied herself for the first battle since her skills had been ground back down to the bare bones of the fighter she had once been. Yet she had never fought demons before, and rare had the skirmishes been between her and wild, ravenous animals. Her opponents had always been a human shape before – and she knew the human body, and all its weak points rather well. The weak points of the closest wolf-like creature charging towards her – those she didn’t know.

Her gaze fixed on the yellowing teeth, dripping with viscous fluid, razor sharp and primed to rip into her.

Improvisation it was, she mused, baring her teeth in a snarl as she reared her fist back and struck like a viper as soon as the first of those demons came into striking range.

Black blood splattered across her face, leaving a smattering of bloody freckles painted on her cheeks, something which felt distinctly like ribs shattering beneath her fist. She felt oddly free for the first time in weeks, something inside her feeling relieved as she worked herself into a rhythm of punching and kicking, and then mixing up the entire routine. Did it say something about her that she was more familiar with battle than caring, concerned brothers? There was no time for to mull on the answer to that, let alone for her to turn around and see her uncle or her brother and how they were fairing. Instead, there were only the opponents in front of her; an unending wave, or so it looked. The numbers didn’t thin out, a wall of corpses being built up around her like a barricade, the clouds above thundering as if promising an oncoming storm – and her instincts whispered that it was no normal storm.

Something tingled on her tongue, the air charged with something she couldn’t quite put her finger on, even as the familiar scent of a battlefield met her nose and mouth each time she breathed in.

Fingers grasped at her shoulder, her arm moving instinctively to break her opponent’s hold—

“Sakura,” Ren hissed, pulling her after their uncle who was on the move once more, metal flashing as his blade moved, cutting down any enemy that dared to get too close. “Hurry. They’re working their way into a frenzy—”

A loud bang startled both of them, followed by the distinct sound of something exploding.

Sakura risked a glance towards the manor house where the sound had come from, heart in her throat as part of the roof of her home lay in tatters, even as two figures moved around in a blur. A flash of pink caught her eye, gaze fixing on the form of her eldest brother. “Ichiro,” she murmured, staring at her brother as he battled the demon who had possessed her – and was currently possessing her other brother.

That answered the question of where the youngest of her three older brothers had ended up… Her teeth ground together audibly, part of her remembering in an instant what it felt like to be possessed; a meat puppet used for the demon pulling the strings.

Ichiro looked similarly enraged at the visage of their brother used to fight against them – or, rather, him. His blade glowed a bright white, parrying the sword wreathed in darkness clutched in Itsuki’s hands. Metal clashed on metal, the sounds ringing across the field of demons as they moved around at a rapid pace, white light burning any and all of her foes who dared to sidle too close to the battle between brothers. Holy magic, something whispered to her, even as that light almost blinded her.

Ichiro was there outside of their home which had been encased in swirling darkness. Her brother was relatively okay, barring a few cuts and grazes on his face which bled a startling red. Yet he had been battling for a considerable length of time against a foe that was considerably stronger than him. She knew what exhaustion looked like, and she’d seen Kakashi-sensei once push himself to the point of unconsciousness. Sakura didn’t like the fact that she was spying the same signs in her brother.

Fangs grazed her arm, fist moving to slam the latest of her own enemies away, even as the shallow grazes twinged along with the weeping skin of her back. They couldn’t hold on for much longer, that she knew deep down, instinct whispering to her that their backup had to arrive soon, otherwise she didn’t think all of them would be making it out. If any of them made it out at all…

A yelp made her vision tunnel, Ren’s fingers losing purchase on her shoulder as she dived in the opposite direction. She grimaced, eyeing the sword sliced through Ichiro’s shoulder, rivulets of bright red blood dripping down her brother’s arm. Itsuki’s face twisted into a sick grin, the demon commandeering his body undoubtedly spotting the chink in her brother’s defence.

Chakra thrummed in her feet, toes digging into fur, skin, and whatever else those demons were made from as she ran over the top of them in a desperate, frantic struggle to reach her eldest brother.

She remembered then, in that instant, a flood of childhood memories returning to her without so much as a by your leave. They came fast, flashing before her eyes, bringing with them a pang in her chest that felt awfully tight all of a sudden. She remembered Ichiro cheering her on when she showed off the fruits of her etiquette lessons. She remembered his exasperated sigh when she added yet another box of shoes to his arms whilst they were out shopping. She remembered him escorting her to her first tea party when father had been snowed under with work, his presence reassuring and strong.

Her teeth bared in a snarl, chakra thrumming through her legs as she willed herself to make it in time to stop Itsuki’s warped hand from carving into her brother’s chest. He was her brother, and she wasn’t about to lose him when she had only just started to get to know him properly.

Feet dug into solid ground, leaving imprints in their wake as she threw herself the last few metres—

“Sakura!” Ichiro hissed, eyes wide, and she could only freeze mid-leap, far too committed to her attempted tackle to realise the fact the demon had long since clocked her approach.

Rookie mistake, part of her mused numbly, as she watched that familiar slimy construct turn to lash out against her instead.

She couldn’t dodge in midair—

White flashed in the corner of her vision, an arm closing around the small of her back and pulling. A slender blade glowing with a harsh bluish light slammed into Itsuki’s side, the flat of the blade making impact and sending him sprawling backwards. A face she had only seen a handful of times in cracked, flaking flesh appeared in her peripheral, and Sakura could only blink in the split second she had to take in the visage of the Second Hokage’s counterpart moving past her before she was being hauled away alongside Ichiro in a blur of movement.

“Thank the Goddess,” Ichiro whispered, the words reaching her despite the chaos surrounding them, even as they were both whisked away from the epicentre of the fight.

Her head turned, eyes narrowing on their rescuer, only able to spot long black hair tied back in a sleek ponytail and the white robes embroidered with crests that undoubtedly signified the lands from which those knights had come. “Let’s get you both to the safe zone Mito set up,” their rescuer said, more to himself than anybody else or so Sakura suspected.

She had barely a second to spy a face which looked exceedingly alike to Uchiha Sasuke’s before they had been deposited on white, glowing ground and summarily left in the care of one Uzumaki Mito, or so Sakura recognised a once-legendary figure from a life so distant to that one. For one, Mito didn’t look that much older than Ichiro, her hair a vibrant red as opposed to the grey it had been in the few full-colour photos Konoha had of the wife of the First Hokage. “Huh,” Sakura mumbled, blinking as Ren and Sasori were swiftly deposited in the circle of earth which was lit by glowing sigils that were presumably keeping them safe. “We did it?” the words came out as more of a question, and her uncle only glanced at her briefly before snorting quietly.

“So it would seem,” Sasori replied, humming under his breath as he surveyed the world beyond the safe zone that Uzumaki Mito had apparently had a hand in setting up. “Now I think it’s time we stopped worrying and start treating all of our wounds,” he said, looking at her pointedly, and Sakura jolted back to awareness at that, scowling as she realised she still had yet to keep a fish alive outside of water in that world. Or rather, she had yet to try, what with everything that had been going on besides that… Still, chakra control was more of an innate skill, that could be refined to a point, meaning that she could see to the more basic of her wounds even without extensive practice—

“What happened to all of you?” Ichiro demanded, Itsuki’s sword off to one side, even as his hand glowed with a pale white light while he held it to his stab wound.

“Greblin Type Seven,” their uncle answered succinctly.

Ichiro visibly winced. “Wait…” Ichiro frowned, eyes darting then around each of their injuries, even as his hand lowered from his shoulder. “All three of you have injuries which line up with being in a Greblin’s stomach…”

“Ah,” Sasori said, turning then to Uzumaki Mito in a clear attempt to put a stopper in that conversation. “Saintess Mito,” he greeted the lady who had been watching the four of them with mild interest. “I believe both one of my nephews and my darling niece will be requiring the services of demonic expulsion. An exorcism, if you will,” their uncle explained, waving one hand in her general direction.

Mito tilted her head, the two sealing tags falling from either bun on the side of her head shifting with the motion. “Tobirama will see to expelling the demon occupying the body of your nephew. But your niece does not show signs of being possessed,” she said flatly, black eyes meeting her green ones for the briefest of instances before returning to their uncle.

“That would be because she has the same constitution as yourself,” Sasori explained, inclining his head towards her. “We found out the hard way in the Greblin’s stomach, you see.”

“Uncle!” Ichiro hissed, eyes darting to Ren who flinched. “Ren—”

“That was reckless,” Uzumaki Mito said, cutting off anything that Ichiro could have started screeching about, and Sakura could only grit her teeth at the sudden attention and ire that fact had drawn.

“We didn’t exactly have much of a choice,” she said, fighting the urge to bare her teeth and defend the decision she had made. Not that she’d really known about the risk of death – nor had it really mattered, what with the fact she would have died either way. “I would have been absorbed by now if we hadn’t…”

“You aren’t even a student of the Holy Lands yet,” Mito declared, utterly certain of her every word – a feat that Sakura found herself mildly jealous of. “You bear no sigil that connects you to us… and yet you managed to contain a Greblin Type Seven in a highly pressured environment without knowing whether or not you would perish from it.” She stepped towards her then, and Sakura swallowed with apprehension.

Was she about to be barred from ever setting foot on the Holy Lands for fear of her reckless stupidity infecting others?

“It takes years to properly grasp the concept of visualisation – or it does for most normal people,” Mito continued, leaning down to grasp her chin, the telltale rush beneath her skin informing her that mana was being used on her. “You are but a child, albeit one on the cusp of adulthood. You have no training in visualisation. Only the Holy Lands teach it, or rather, only they teach it well.” Mana flooded her core, the familiar touch of holy magic making her shiver ever so slightly, breath escaping in a sharp exhale, even as a feeling of sickness welled up within her. “Which makes this situation decidedly abnormal.”

Sakura felt her eyes widen, Mito stepping back – undoubtedly knowing what was about to happen – before she could throw up on her clean white boots. It was a pitch black liquid that she vomited, the sludgy, thick, syrup-like sick coating her mouth on the way up and out. A rancid taste met her tongue, and she gagged on it then, a whimper escaping her when another large globule of that black liquid came up and was promptly expelled from her body. She lost count of how many times her stomach heaved, the puddle of vomit constantly expanding as she added to it, and shrinking as that inky fluid was burned away by those white sigils drawn onto the ground.

“Sister,” Ichiro murmured, his touch light against her back as he rubbed small circles on it. “Do you want some water?” he asked, offering a flask out to her – somehow unharmed by the fight he’d been in for the past twenty minutes. “I can’t imagine that tasted pleasant.”

“Surprisingly enough, no,” she muttered, taking the flask from his waiting hand, swishing water around her mouth a few times before spitting it out to take another gulp. “Thanks,” she mumbled, passing the flask back, mouth and stomach feeling marginally better.

“You are the Harunos, specifically the Haruno Duchy of the Leaves, yes?” Mito spoke, ending her brief reprieve from the strange conversation. The one where she was undoubtedly designated as abnormal.

“That would be us, yes,” Ichiro said, cutting Ren off before he could get a word out. “You have my thanks, Saintess Mito, for responding to our call for aid so swiftly,” he continued, all pomp and grace lining his voice.

“And you have our thanks for expunging that demon from our sister,” Ren chipped in, blinking then as a familiar black-haired man reappeared within that circle, carrying Itsuki that time. Sakura watched him curiously, eyeing him as he set her brother down carefully on the ground besides her and Ren both.

“One Tier Three Greater Demon exorcised,” the man whose face resembled Sasuke’s so spoke, a remarkably un-Sasuke-like smile curving at his lips. It was remarkably smug and full of satisfaction tinged with pride.

“Tobirama did most of the legwork,” Mito stated, one red brow curving up, and Sakura could only wonder if Mito and Tobirama were the revered figures there that they had been in her life before that one. “Besides, you both know that Hashirama dealt with the majority of the demons whilst you were both busy rescuing the Harunos, the Prince of the Sands, and dealing with that Controller-Manipulator Type.”

Sakura blinked, glancing over at Ren as he sucked in a sharp gasp of air – and immediately started choking. “You okay?” she dared to ask, tuning out the conversation of the Holy Knight and the Saintess.

“I’m fine,” Ren murmured. “I just wasn’t expecting to see so many important figures of the Holy Lands here… usually there’d just be ten, well, normal Holy Knights dispatched to a distress beacon like ours…”

“You do remember that I have no idea who they are, don’t you?” she stated, eyebrow raised at her brother then, even as Ichiro was drawn into the Holy Knight’s conversation, leaving them both to watch over their unconscious brother.

“Ah, yes. Of course,” Ren said, leaning over Itsuki then and smoothing the hair back from his forehead. “They’re renowned across the kingdoms, if only for how talented they all are, even at their relatively young ages,” he began explaining, and Sakura paid attention, keeping an eye on the Saintess all the while. She was still a Saintess Candidate and everything that entailed right there and then. Not that she had the slightest idea of what it really meant to be a candidate. “They all have at least some roots in Konoha, too, which is why they are so well known to us rather than, say, Uncle Sasori.”

Sakura inclined her head, gesturing for him to go on, even as a more relaxed air seemed to settle over them – and a quick glance outside of the thin barrier of white light surrounding them was telling of how those demons had been utterly decimated by a total of three Holy Knights and a Saintess. Jealousy and hunger stirred inside her then, even as she remembered the teeth and claws which had been at her throat less than ten minutes ago. How she wished she could have decimated that horde of demons by herself… Yet she didn’t have the strength just yet.

That would change, she vowed to herself, even as she turned to Ren and listened to him extol the virtues of those legendary figures – who were just as legendary there as they had been previously to her, or so she was coming to understand.