Day 4 Morning

[Red]

Pre-Kopaka&Company

Trunks traveled through the duration of the night with the posture of a drunk. He took breaks often—when the aches of his body took too large a toll he'd find a tree to lean against, and catch his breath. Under his coat, he imagined a scenery of beet-colored skin, cracking and peeling with his every movement; eventually, he would have to remove his coat, but not until the notion lost the companionship of ripping off ever layer of skin with it.

The deeper he trekked into the forest, the more he saw oddly shaped constructions—toppled monoliths, fragmented and shattered. They were composed of marble, crafted elegantly with designs. A bronze arm holding a sword jutted from the ground, next to a pile of ruins to the swordsman's east. The swordsman noticed how fresh the earth was around the bicep of the statue; a pile of dirt, matted down to grass-level, encompassed at least twelve times the width of the arm.

He went to approach the ruins, but a sound caught his attention; bushes rattled from behind the buried statue. The swordsman furrowed a brow. He pulled the rifle from over his shoulder and clutched it with both hands as he walked over to where the sound originated. How many bullets remained in his gun was a great question, but one that Trunks had no time to explore.

His eyes widened as he parted the bushes and high-stepped into a clearing. “You again,” he murmured.

The white wolf, from earlier, stared him straight in the face. It jumped back, startled, and pled.

Trunks believed her; her eyes gave her words validity. He apologized back: “It happens.”

The wolf carried on, sharing some of experience and perspective of the entire ordeal—Tuecer's Revitalization Program. She just wanted to help where she could, and survive. Simple enough. Trunks had the same the same goal. He failed to hold the same optimism about the Spirit, but kept those thoughts undisclosed (two things always destroyed alliances: religion and politics, and in a weird way, he felt as if this fell under the latter).

She quickly changed topics, offering Trunks an animal-sized buffet—a mixture of berries and nuts—as a symbol of their partnership.

“Sure,” Trunks replied, smiling; even if his belly hadn't been subtly growling for the past few hours, it would have been rude to decline. He kneeled down in front of the wolf, grabbing a handful of the 'forest mix'.

The disc levitating above the wolf's spine did a spin, and the flame engulfing it flared up. “Oh, and I'm Amaretsu,” she said.

The swordsman chewed his fill, and swallowed. “I'm Trunks.”

[Orihime Inoue]

The last time Orihime tried to help her friends and loved ones, she was whisked away to Wackomundo, used as a of tool for Captain Esien’s malicious plan. A mistake honestly, soon realized during the time she spent captive there. Where did all the good people go? People like Ichigo? Most everyone Orihime met only cared about their own selfish interests and goals. It’s the sick nature of the world that Orihime once lived it and it followed her to this one. As the ground continued to rumble, shake and fall into the sea, Orihime Imagined taking this sword and chucking it as far as she could into the bleak ocean water. What about Grandfather Spirit? she remembered, her heart feeling as heavy as her hero sword. He had to have brought her to this forsaken island for a reason right? Even if that was the case, Orihime could not help but feel like the spirit might have made a mistake, like she had already failed him.

As much as it surprised her that Sasuke and Victor thought she had stolen the relics, it didn’t. How many times have we all been betrayed by people closest to us? Orihime could not even count the number of times on one hand. In a way, Orihime felt like she betrayed her friends in the worst way, losing the bracers, it ate her up inside. Lives were lost due to this quest for these silly pieces of armour, and blood was spilled. Thinking back, she saw all the faces of lost warriors flash through her mind, their final moments, and the sacrifice they made. How could I be so stupid! Orihime thought, punishing herself while hot tears ran down her freckled cheeks.

As the two warriors stood over her, angered expressions covering their faces, she couldn’t help to wish that they would slay her right then and there. Nothing she could do or say to them will bring the bracers back to her. No matter how much she wished and wanted to go back to the past, to never go after that stupid defibrillator she couldn't. What’s done is done and it couldn't be undone.
When the ninja's eyes turned a viscous crimson red, Orihime thought that was it, he was going to kill her. The look made her heart stop, she never saw anything like it and the closest she could describe what it looked like to her, was Ichigo’s hollow mask. The blood red eyes paired with his black as night hair, made him look like a deadly viper ready to strike. She was looking death right in the face but, at least, she would leave the quest in the most capable hands of this gentleman.

To her surprise, Sasuke did not kill her, not yet at least. He commanded Victor to give her back the only weapon she had, which he did by throwing it at her feet. Why? It was not until she saw the group readying themselves for battle that it clicked in her head. Something was coming, perhaps it was the robomouse coming back for her sword. What if she led them right to her!

Joining the group, there backs all facing each other, they stayed information they peering at all sides of them. Her heartbeat was so loud in her ears that she barely heard their leader yell to get ready. Ready for what? It could be anything, a guardian, an enemy, or even just an animal. Whatever it was, Orihime put her entire faith into the boy ninja. If anyone could free the spirit it was him. She promised herself that no matter what happened she wouldn't make the mistake of moving anywhere without them again.

Suddenly the sound of rustling bushes came from behind her, causes their leader to raise his weapon toward where the sound was coming from. “Show yourself!” Sasuke roared, while his team stood, stead fast by his side.

[Kakashi Hatake]

The shinobi duo dashed through the forest, hoping to put some distance between them and the group they had just encountered. Kakashi allowed his heartbeat to return to a normal pace as they ran, gradually slowing to stop as they noted the lack of pursuit.

“Are you alright, Kakashi?” Minato inquired, heaving heavy breaths. He leaned forward slightly, guarding his side.

The scarecrow nodded. “Yeah, I’m okay. A little battered, but I’ll be fine.”

“Good,” the Kage responded with a nod. “One of them got me with that noise weapon, bruised a couple of my ribs.”

“Should we rest a while?” The silver-haired captain asked. “It doesn’t seem like we were followed.”

“No,” Minato said, wincing. “I’ll be fine. I’ve had much worse. We should keep moving.”

Kakashi nodded readily, following his mentor as they dashed through the forest.

The altercation in the clearing had been an interesting one, a chaotic tussle that had cost at least one person their life. Hiding in the treetops, the duo had watched the battle closely, witnessing a cloaked man cleave a woman’s arms clean off with some sort of spinning blade weapon. It was at precisely this moment that Minato had decided they were to in intervene; they could at least provide support for the outnumbered woman. Kakashi wondered if perhaps this woman was one of the guardians; this could provide explanation for why they had attacked her en masse.

“She didn’t seem to have anything,” Minato uttered as if he had read his protege’s mind. “She seemed...sick.”

The ANBU captain nodded. “She did look...feral?” They hadn’t been close enough to make out what the group had said; perhaps she had aggressed them earlier?

“In hindsight, maybe not the safest move to dive in like that,” Minato mused, vaulting a low-hanging limb. “It just didn’t feel right watching that happen and doing nothing.”

Kakashi nodded, keeping pace with the blonde Kage. That’s just the kind of person that Minato was. Kind.

“I’m glad though, that I had you there with me,” Minato said. “With our chakra so low in this place, you never know what can happen.”

The sharingan-wielder nodded knowingly. He had sapped a good deal of his chakra in the battle, perhaps too much to justify. Using both Kaimon and Raikiri had taken a heavy toll on his body. Even now, he could feel the trauma his chakra network had sustained. This was not the end, however. He could not allow his body to give out when they had done so little in their quest. He wouldn’t.

“I can say the same for you, sensei.” Kakashi replied, smirking beneath his mask. “But next time, let’s be a little more cautious, huh?”

Minato let out a hearty laugh. “The student is chiding the teacher now? You really have grown up, haven’t you Kakashi?”

“I suppose,” The silver-haired shinobi replied. He cast his memory back to the days when Team Minato had worked missions in the Land of Fire. It was so long ago, though it must seem like just recently for the fair-haired shinobi. “I guess I had to.”

The Yellow Flash smiled again. “Well, I’m glad. Your abilities have improved a lot since you were a kid. Though I guess that’s to be expected.”

The scarecrow nodded, grinning ear-to-ear. It was strange, but in this place of death, battered and drained, he was beginning to feel happy.