Be The Chang You Want To See
The group continued their slow walk down the road, dejection weighing on them heavily. They were still no closer to finding Ayato, and wedding time was fast approaching. What would Yosano say? What would she DO?
As they considered their ill fates, a voice suddenly called out to them.
“Yamero! Wait!” a voice called in a Chinese accent. It was one of Lan Zhan’s loyal stooges.
“Huuuh? What do you want?” Kaname asked, a glimmer in his eye. It wasn’t his Sharingan eye. His other eye.
The disciple was slightly out of breath from catching up to them. He panted heavily, wiping a drop of sweat that ran down the side of his head. It mixed with the blood that dripped freely down his face, staining his crystal white robe. It was clear that the blood came from the long claw marks that had injured the young man’s face, gouging out one eye. A clear victim of their own tiger’s fierce attack just moments earlier. Above that eye the young gent had a headband on, perhaps once sky blue in colour but now blood red, askew over his brow. Why hadn’t he taken it off?
Tomoe, clearly under a fair amount of mental duress, reached and touched the headband, the young gent preoccupied by trying to catch his breath and probably a lot of lightheadedness from bloodloss.
“HOW DARE YOU!!” the bleeding gent cried, “A married man, touching my headband! Disgusting, filthy, why do you insist on sullying my innocence!”
The young Chinese mafia member then took to leaning on his knees, breathing heavily, blood dripping onto the tarmac, face painted red. Kaname stared at him. Normal men passed out when they had one of their eyes scooped, right? But here this young man was, running after the Oxbridge tutors.
“Well? Spit it out!” Levi spat out, irritated. They didn't have time to be waiting around.
“I thought you might want to know,” the disciple panted, “that as you were leaving the club last night, ugh,” he leant back down again, breathing heavily with his eyes shut, “you - you hijacked a car from the parking lot...and - uh - drove it around the neighbourhood.”
Fukazawa pulled out a receipt from his pocket and approached the young man, dabbing at his wounds to see how deep the damage was, wiping some of the blood from his face.
“Waaaaa?” Victor cried.
“I-I-I don't think we would have done that!” Mustang spluttered.
“Indeed you did...sirs.” Even those few words sent the teen back into a spat of breathing issues, “I believe you were trying to - to race Nish-ugh-Nishijima, that one man police department.”
Thankfully the tiger was nearby, for when the young gent finally vomited it was in the same place that once Levi, Tomoe, and Fukazawa once had.
“Nani?” Kakashi cried. “Nishijima was with us last night?”
Now the boy was leaning all of his weight on Tomoe’s shoulder, knees visibly quivering as he tried to answer the group’s questions, “Oh yes...you see I believe it went down a little like this. As your ‘420’ gang, as I heard it was referred as, left our establishment, you were met by Nishijima who was out on patrol.” The boy wearily touched his forehead, checking if his headband was still there. When he coughed, his spittle came out red. “You talked for a while, then began to argue, and challenged each other to a car race. I'm sure if you can find the car you stole, then you may find a clue as to where your young friend disappeared to.”
The teen had no idea, but Shanks had infused Haki into the boy’s energy (somehow) so he’d have the power to get through at least one single utterance. Of course when the Haki was no longer applied the individual’s health would deteriorate back to its original state.
Fukuzawa smiled. “Thank you,” he breathed, putting his arm on the young disciple’s shoulder. “You've been of great help. One day, I will repay you for your servitude. My children will sing songs of your name. And their children’s children too. Thank you, whoever you are,”
“Ah- my name is-”
“No time to keep talking! We must be off!” Fukuzawa cried, storming off.
The other teachers nodded and followed, leaving the young cultivator quivering in a pool of his own blood.
Victor however, did not. He stood over the young cultivator’s almost-corpse, for if he were left out on the deceprid streets of the strip, surely he would get an infection if nothing worse? Victor was well versed in the art of disposing trash from his dark days as a binman studies tutor but this was simply inhumane. His heart clenched as he thought of his missing boy, Soma. What if someone had left Soma on the street like this, what would he do then?
Victor bent his knees and gently took the young lad’s body in his arms, cradling his head on his shoulder and carrying him princess-style, the young man’s robes sweeping airly. Kakashi looked over his shoulder. Wow, the pair of them together like that could appear on the front cover of a shojo manga. The way the cultivator’s head was placed, bleeding, on Victor’s body gave a sense of intimacy and affection. The concerned haze to Victor’s brow and mouth would shoot lovestruck arrows into the heart of any teenage girl. The injury simply added to the angst of the scene, coupled by Victor's apparent desire to protect.
“Kakashi-” Fukuzawa began.
“Already on it,” the man replied, his sharingan eye swirling. The teachers waited in tense silence, until Kakashi announced, “I have located the car! It's 3 blocks away.”
“Lets go!” Shanks ordered.
They naruto sprinted down the streets, shoving aside anyone who got in their way. Not a man, woman or child could interfere with this mission. Ayato was just too important. The former terrorist had saved so many lives through the power of therapy, too many to count. It had to be at least 5??
The gang skidded to a halt when they reached the far edge of town. Alone on the dusty highway sat a car, its metal twisted and burnt from an obvious wreck.
“We must have crashed it and then abandoned it here,” Kaname observed, raising a brow.
“It’s so burnt up, do you think any clues could be left here?” Mustang fretted.
“Now now, I'm sure there must be at least one receipt somewhere in this car that survived,” Fukuzawa announced, but the quiver in his voice hinted at his nervousness.
“The boot is intact,” Hawkeye stated dryly, knocking against it with his fist.
“Well then! Open it!” Fukuzawa barked in excitement, rushing forward to the wreckage. Would there be a clue about Ayato's wearabouts in there?? The other teachers crowded behind him, holding their breaths.
Swiftly, Hawkeye sliced open the car with his sword.
“Who’s that screaming?” Victor said from the back of the group, unable to see who that was whomst was screaming, arms cumbered with the young, potentially underaged cultivator’s still breathing and bleeding body.
A figure sprang from the wreckage, arms and leg waving frantically, his bare buttocks gleaming in the pale sunlight. Levi used his hand to cover the tiger’s eyes, protecting his kohai’s innocence. The naked man pushed his way through the teachers, screaming.
With a wail the man charged off, naruto running back towards town.
“Was that- was that Nishijima?” Kaname asked, stunned.
“Hmm,” Fukazawa said in consideration, “Whenever I imagined his ass, it wasn’t quite so hairy.” This was the second ass Fukazawa had seen in a while - Toddler Ranpo would get jealous if his daddy was caught philandering.
“Why was he in the trunk of the car?” Shanks asked, puzzled. The others could only shrug.
Mustang clicked his tongue in annoyance. “If only he hadn't run away, he could have told us what happened last night. He could have told us where Ayato was.”
“Never mind him, what’s that?” Hawkeye asked, pointing at an object that lay in the boot, partially obscured in shadow. He lifted it out for everyone to see.
“Isn’t that a Sharingan?” frowned Shanks, admiring the set of red eyes that floated in clear vials.
Kakashi used his Sharingan to determine if the ‘Sharingan’ was indeed a Sharingan.
“It’s just a cheap knockoff,” he scoffed, “There’s different quality gradients when it comes to the red Sharingan eye. This one they call the ‘Kurta’, one of the shittier eyes, closer to the bottom of the ranking system. Practically worthless when compared with MY Sharingan.”
“Honk! Honk! Wow guys, the plot sure is thickening! What should we do with these eyes? Throw them in the bin?” Hawk honked.
“What? How long have you been here?” Kaname sniffed.
“Baka! The whole time! I heard of your quest to find Ayato, and I, the Captain of the Scraps Disposal, have decided to help you weak peasants,” the pig cried.
“Ew,” Mustang shivered, repulsed by the being.
“Where’s Ace when you need him?” Shanks said, fondly recalling that time when his deer nephew Ace ate two of chopper’s legs. Even more so than Ace, little Luffy would not hesitate to eat that entire pig by himself. Shanks wondered idly if he should take Hawk back with him for Luffy’s dinner.
“Shut up! We can't throw these eyes away! They must be important!” Kaname snapped, “This must mean something! Bad luck, good luck,” he fervently ran prayer beads between his fingers, “Why were we with them in a car, did WE excise them last night??”
“Might we save one of the eyes and give it to this young lad?” Victor piped up, gesturing to the young man he was holding. “Thanks to our student, Atsushi, this young man will be rendered partially blind for eternity, and from the looks of it there’s loaadddss of those eyes in there.”
Hawkeye snapped his fingers. “Don't the Phantom Troupe use these eyes as a calling card? I believe I heard about this from my student Chuuya, who returned with a pair one evening. He claimed he had won them from the rival gang. He looked all rosy-cheeked and excited, cat ears and tail just poking through as though he expected praise for some reason. But we both already have a pair of eyes, why would we need more? Especially considering how subpar these eyes are compared to the Sharingan.”
“Waaaaaaaa!” Hawk exclaimed. “So we now have to go visit this Phantom Troupe! You must have run into them last night and got these eyes from them!”
“That’s right,” Kaname nodded.
Mustang grimaced, looking down at the talking pig with absolute abhorrence.
“Hah! I've heard tales of this Phantom Troupe. I heard they are one of the meanest gangs in town. But they won't be anything to me! My power far exceeds what those pesky little humans could ever dream to achieve. I've fought demons! Angels! Beings your tiny minds couldn't even begin to comprehend! Follow me, I’ll lead the charge!” Hawk honked, running off in a naruto sprint.
“How does a pig do that?” Hawkeye asked with uncharacteristic marvel in his tone. Though he was no fool, he’d heard that Hawk was of course once human before sleeping with his cousin Inosuke, who had the power to transform one from human to pig mid-coitus. From the retellings Hawkeye had heard the pair continued to make incestuous love for hours and hours from dawn till dusk, one a pig, one a human, both hearts and minds melded into one. Perhaps Hawk remembered how to naruto run from his human days??
The teachers watched Hawk sprint off, before turning back to the matter at hand.
“420 gang awayyyyyy,” cried Levi, marching forwards.
“... What?” said Shanks.
“Leave it,” replied Hawkeye. Given how red Levi’s eyes were, he’d clearly still been finding time to snort coke while they’d been on this mission.
Hawk came running back, furious and insulted that none of these weak, pathetic, stupid humans had followed him. The master. The captain. The leader of the scrap disposals. Who did these VERMIN think they were?
Shanks picked up the pig to bring with them, mostly so that it wouldn’t get itself killed out here, but also a little bit to save it for dinner later if they got hungry..
“Let’s go,” cried Fukuzawa, heading after Levi. The other teachers followed, Kakashi still naruto running.
Soon they stopped in front of a dark, shady alley. They paused for a second, taking in the dankness of the path ahead of them, before walking in, penetrating the darkness.