Naruto : Dragon Jinchuriki

1 month before Kuroma's arrival,

Riku, Chiyo, and Jiraiya moved cautiously across the landscape, their senses sharp. Each step brought them closer to the place where it was said that Chiyo's mother, the Priestess, dwelled.

Chiyo's hands fidgeted with the hem of her cloak, ever since they crossed the border, she had been on edge. Riku noticed her unease and slowed his pace to walk beside her.

"You've been quiet," he said, breaking the silence. His tone was light, but his eyes held genuine concern. "Something on your mind?"

Chiyo hesitated. "It's… the vision," she admitted, her voice soft.

Riku raised an eyebrow. "The one about the boy with the axe?"

She nodded. "I don't know why, but I can feel it—it's going to happen soon. He's close."

Jiraiya strode ahead, but turned his head slightly, a tilted head. "Visions are tricky things, can't always expect it means what you think it does," he said. "Might be symbolic, might be literal. Neither of which serves any use to get your attention away from the task ahead."

Chiyo frowned but nodded, her fingers tightening in the grasp she had on her cloak.

Coming down into a rocky valley, it was the sudden gust that brought the whiff of smoke and peaches. Riku's nose wrinkled. "Something's burning."

In their hastened pace, the three moved through narrow pathways that finally opened up to clear land. It was the scene presented that halted them.

A boy, tall for his age, with a massive body that was already beginning to show the muscles of an out-and-out worker in leather tunic and leggings, stood in the center of the glade, holding a great stained axe. His black hair curled in ringlets about a young face already lined by exhaustion and pain: a fresh gash ran across the bridge of his nose.

Beside him was a boar—no, a giant boar, at least six meters tall, its tusks gleaming like ivory. The creature's body was riddled with scars, and its beady eyes glared at the newcomers with a mix of wariness and aggression.

Chiyo gasped, clutching Riku's arm. "It's him," she whispered. "The boy from my vision.

The boy turned to them, his small eyes, blue as sky and water, alert, calculating. His knuckles whitened on the haft of the axe; there was a tension in his body, a readiness in case of attack. The boar growled low in its throat, an almost subvocal rumbling.

Riku stepped forward carefully, hands raised calmingly. "Hey there," he said, his voice easy, soft. "We mean no harm." However, inwardly he was astonished.

Riku's Ryūgan was glowing and he analysed the boy, '100% Lightning affinity? Seriously? And what's with that chakra reserve…'

The boy's eyes narrowed, his voice low and hoarse. "Who are you?"

"We're travelers," Jiraiya said, stepping up beside Riku. "Heading toward the Priestess's shrine. You look like you've been through a lot, kid."

The boy didn't respond, his gaze shifting to Chiyo. Something flickered in his expression-recognition, disbelief, and something darker.

"You," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. His grasp on the axe faltered once, then tightened again. "You're supposed to be dead."

Chiyo's breath caught. "You— you know me?"

He laughed in bitterness-a sound full of years of pain bottled up. "Know you? We were friends, Chiyo. You were my only friend before they took you."

Chiyo's eyes had enlarged as memories surfaced of a boy who loved peaches, who used to laugh with her by the river, who made weird noises and twitched all the time, who always protected her when other children mocked her strange eyes. "Kristian?" she whispered, her voice trembling.

"Don't say my name like you didn't forget me," he snapped, his voice cracking. His hands were shaking, the axe trembling in his grasp.

Riku, Jiraiya and Shiro exchanged a glance, the tension in the air palpable, if they could grab some popcorn and some 3-D glasses this scene would be great!

"I didn't forget," Chiyo said, stepping forward. Her voice was soft but firm. "I never forgot you, Kristian. I thought about you every day."

"Liar," he spat, his blue eyes blazing. "If you remembered, why didn't you come back? Why didn't you save me and my family?"

Chiyo froze, guilt washing over her. "I was taken," she whispered. "I was just a child. I didn't know how to come back."

Kristian's shoulders slumped, and for a moment, he looked like the lost, broken boy he truly was. The boar, sensing his distress, let out a snort and nudged him gently with its massive head.

Riku stepped forward cautiously. "Listen, fella," he said. "We're not your enemies. Chiyo's been through her own hell, and we're just trying to reunite her with her family. If you've got a grudge, take it up with the people who caused all this, not us."

Kristian's eyes flashed towards Riku, and he clenched his jaw tightly. "The Priestess," Kristian growled. "Her family is to blame for what happened to my family."

Chiyo shook her head so forcefully. "No, that's not true! My mother has been only fighting against those who would hurt us. She wants to try and stop them."

Kristian stopped and, for a moment, the rage seemed to dull slightly in his gaze. Yet, he clutched the axe firmly in his grasp.

"Prove it," he said finally. "Prove that she's not like the others. And maybe I won't kill you."

Riku raised an eyebrow. "That's a hell of a way to make friends."

Jiraiya sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well, this just got a lot more complicated."

Chiyo stepped closer, her eyes pleading. "Please, Kristian. Come with us. See for yourself."

Kristian stared at her for a long moment before finally lowering his axe. The boar snorted in approval, and he rested a hand on its massive head.

"I'll come," he said, his voice low. "But if I see one sign of betrayal—"

"We get it," Riku said, cutting him off with a wave of his hand. "You're big and scary. Let's get moving before something else decides to eat us."

Chiyo smiled faintly, relief flooding her features. Kristian didn't return the smile, but he fell in step beside them, his massive boar following close behind.

The group pressed on, the tension thick in the air. Chiyo glanced at Kristian, a flicker of hope in her eyes. Perhaps, she thought, this was the start of mending the wounds of the past.

…

…

With the Land of Demons' mist growing thicker, the atmosphere around the group thickened with some ancient energy that almost hummed with every step.

"Chiyo," Jiraiya said, much softer than usual, "You and I should head toward the shrine. Your mother—Miroku—needs to know that we're here, and we can explain everything." He gave her a reassuring smile. "Ruki and that kid can wait here. It's probably safer for things to be low-key for now, anyway."

Chiyo hesitated, darting a quick glance between Riku and Kristian. The tension between them was as thick as the unsaid words. Riku stood casual against a tree, arms folded with his usual nonchalance, while Kristian sat on a big boulder, silently adjusting his axe, looking so brooding while the bird and boar stole gazes at eachother every now and again.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Chiyo asked, her voice carrying a hint of concern. She wasn't sure what it was, but there was something different about Riku today. He seemed more detached than usual.

"I'm sure," Jiraiya reassured, though his eyes held a glint of mischief. "Riku's tough. He can take care of himself. We'll be back before you know it.

Chiyo hesitated for a moment longer before nodding. She wasn't entirely convinced, but she trusted Jiraiya's judgment. She turned to Riku, offering a quick, unsure smile. "We'll be back soon," she said before walking away with Jiraiya, disappearing into the misty woods.

Riku gave her a half-wave, his expression relaxed. "Don't take too long. The forest gets pretty creepy around here." His voice was light, almost teasing, but the undercurrent of tension that lingered in his tone didn't go unnoticed.

The moment the two were gone from view, Riku let his sigh out as his body relaxed to a more laid-back posture once again. Kristian, still fiddling with his axe, did not reply straight away, but there stretched a moment of silence that seemed to extend beyond its length. "So." Riku said finally, "looks like it's just us two for the time being."

Kristian barely acknowledged him, continuing to hone his blade. "I'm fine." His voice was rough, and the words came out more like a grumble.

Riku raised an eyebrow. "You sure about that?" He glanced sideways at Kristian, noticing a fresh cut across the bridge of his nose. "Seems like you've gone through quite an ordeal." He leaned against a tree nearby, crossing his arms as he watched the squirming discomfort of the older boy.

Kristian didn't look up. His eyes remained fixed on his axe. A twitch flickered in his eye, a telltale sign of his Tourette's, but he didn't acknowledge it. He just kept working, ignoring Riku's words.

Riku sighed again. "You've got that whole 'I'm fine, I don't need help' vibe, huh?" He shot a grin at Kristian, but the older boy still didn't respond.

After a moment that seemed very long, Riku veered away from the topic. "Hey, are you any good with that axe of yours? Ever think of making it even better?" He threw the huge weapon a fast glance, ideas already coursing through his mind. "I can do a little blacksmithing myself. I could help improve it-sharpen it, balance it, maybe give it some enhancements with chakra."

Kristian's eyes flickered for a moment. "What are you talking about?"

Riku grinned, feeling an opening. "Well, I could help you infuse it with chakra, enhance the cutting power, maybe coat it in lightning chakra. With that, you could hit harder and faster in battle. Plus, a weapon with chakra flow can sometimes be. more than just a weapon."

Kristian's expression didn't change. He didn't respond immediately, but Riku saw the faintest curiosity in his gaze.

"You think it could help me? I don't even know how to use chakra." Kristian's voice was skeptical, yet interested.

"Could do a lot more than help," Riku said, his voice full of enthusiasm. "I'm not just offering you some run of the mill advice here. We could craft an axe that could channel chakra. Lightning chakra, you could make it strike like a thunderbolt y'know." Riku's voice lowered, almost in a whisper. "It could be something special."

Kristian didn't say anything, instead tightening his grip on the axe. He was used to accepting no one's help. Riku's words just clicked inside his brain-the idea of improving the weapon, making it more than a tool of destruction-was tempting.

With an indecipherable quiet grunt, Kristian mumbled, "I don't need your help."

Riku shrugged, seemingly undeterred. "Hey, no problem. Respect." He raised his hands, pretending to be under some kind of attack. "Just an offer."

Riku was starting to seriously hate this guy. 'Who the hell does this bastard think he is? Acting all nonchalant as if I couldn't cleave his head into two with a swipe of a finger…'

*That's the spirit…*

The silence fell again, but it was not as heavy as it had been previously. Kristian shifted; his body tautened slightly, though he continued to work on his axe. Riku, feeling the heaviness of the quiet moment between them, glanced down at Shiro, who'd been hopping around his feet. The bird chirped then, as though sensing the shift in mood, and Riku chuckled softly.

"Speaking of things that are. special," he muttered to himself, half to Kristian and half to the bird. "I've been thinking. You know how you've got that big boar? Like, you think I could do something similar with magpies?"

Kristian raised an eyebrow, glancing at Riku's bird. "What are you talking about? Use that bird in a fight?"

"Maybe," Riku said, his tone casual, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. "Imagine it-flocks of magpies swooping down on the battlefield, causing total chaos. I could use them like a distraction, or maybe have them carry out more complex missions." He grinned. "I've got a lot of ideas for him.

Kristian didn't respond immediately, but the ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "You're… strange," he muttered, but there was something almost begrudgingly approving in his voice.

If it wasn't for that approval, Riku would've had to remove himself from this area before he burnt it to the ground.

Riku laughed and slapped him lightly on the shoulder. "I'll take that as a compliment."

That was all it took for the initial tension between them to be broken, it seemed. It didn't last too long. Kristian finally rose and readjusted the grip on his axe. "We should get going," he said; once again, his tone was coarse, businesslike.

Riku returned a thumbs up with the usual grin in place. "Lead the way, big fella."

The two of them began to walk in the direction where Jiraiya and Chiyo had gone; mist swirled around them as they made their way deeper into the mysterious, haunting forest of the Land of Demons. Shiro sat on Riku's shoulder, watching the way ahead, while Gristle followed silently behind Kristian, always an intimidating companion.

Though the tension between them remained, there was something a little lighter now-an unspoken understanding that perhaps one day they would be able to lay the differences aside and trust each other fully. But for now, they walked side by side, heading toward their uncertain futures.

Question : Should Riku join Takigakure