Valley of Clouds and Lightning

Andrei's face twisted into his characteristic scowl as he found himself eating dirt.

Literally.

This realisation did not help improve his confused, but foul mood, which reached its peak when his face ground against the rocky ground, covering his features in dust.

Right, the werebear thought, jumping to his feet with an awkward, but practiced motion. Observe, analyse, conclude.

He still had his clothes from when that ghostly son of a bitch had shanked him, but neither his shirt nor his overcoat were torn...nor was his chest, for that matter.

Andrei absently pressed a hand over his heart as his superhuman eyes darted over his surroundings. He seemed to be in a valley surrounded by mountains. Smelled clean enough, of both mundane pollution and supernatural signatures, except for a faint trace of mana in the air, as if a spell had been performed here.

Translated into a smell, it would have reminded him of ozone. His hair began to stand up, and not due to the reminder of his past experiences with being electrocuted.

And...yeah, inhabited. Andrei spotted a few flights of stairs, along with a sort of gate or shrine that made him think of Japan, but how the hell could he have ended up so far away from Romania? What could he have been hit with to make him miss the transition so thoroughly?

As he wondered about this, his nostrils flared involuntarily: more mana, fresher, floating above and around the smell of a human, and...

Andrei sneered, despite himself, at the oily smell of octopus, along with something else: fouler mana, and something like rusty chains.

Ears perking up, he prepared to leave the platform he saw he was standing on, get a closer look at wherever he was, when something other than the sound of his boots on rock filled the air.

It was a male voice, deep and oddly musical. Almost as odd as the language: something that only barely resembled Japanese, but spoken with a...Bronx accent?

Andrei had been trained, as a member of communist Romania's Security, to infiltrate and blend in other societies, should the Party deem it necessary. Besides disguising himself, the training had included the study of multiple languages. He still couldn't parse whatever the guy was saying, nor see him.

Must have been out of sight. He was confused, not human again. The werebear who'd turned him had made sure he'd survive and feel every part of the mauling.

His theory was confirmed when a humanoid shape, dark pinkish-red flesh bubbling like wax as tendrils-no, tentacles, he could see the suckers-retreated into it, leapt into the air, above the stairs, spinning, before landing behind the gate.

Andrei's eyes narrowed. No visible orifices. And, given how weird the thing's aetheric imprint was, it was definitely supernatural.

Then, its weird, magical hide disappeared completely, revealing a male human.

Tall, pretty muscular, with white hair and a goatee; not smelling any dye, Andrei concluded this was either his natural colour, or he was one of those mages who let certain signs of aging remain, for appearance. Dark skin, but Asian features, with a blue tattoo on one cheek. Mixed ancestry?

The were mentally shrugged. He'd seen weirder people, even humans, though the guy's getup was definitely on the stranger side. He wore a white sleeveless shirt, over only one shoulder, to show off his arms, with dark pants and some kind of thick sandals, the same colour. He also wore oval sunglasses, as well as a headband with a piece of metal in the middle, bearing a symbol Andrei had never seen before.

And he was armed. Andrei spotted eight swords on him, but could neither see nor smell any blood. Probably hadn't been used recently.

The were stiffened as the guy performed another flip, covering several stories to land in front of him on his feet. Right. Physical enhancement.

Was he trespassing? Most mages only boosted themselves when they felt endangered, and this guy had enough blades on him for several people.

The guy tilted his head slightly, then pointed a finger at Andrei, exclaiming...no, asking him something. He just had one of those voices. When Andrei didn't reply-the words didn't match any Japanese he remembered-, the guy repeated the question, more forcefully.

Trying to defuse the situation before it devolved into something worse, Andrei slowly raised his hands, showing his palms and introducing himself in Japanese. The guy neither reacted nor said anything, so the were asked where he was.

Again, no answer. The guy-Andrei dubbed him "Shades"-crossed his arms, looking as confused as he felt, then cupped his chin with one hand, before pointing at Andrei again, and asking something else, this time in a softer voice.

***

Killer B tried not to frown as the fool in front of him stared like he was deaf. Where the hell had he come from that he couldn't understand anything?

The jinchuriki took the newcomer in. Tall, dark skin, short hair, clothes and boots. He could've easily been from anywhere in the Land of Lightning, but B, despite his decades of travelling across it, had never seen him, and he'd have remembered.

He had the eyes of an old killer, like those shinobi who'd gotten tired of life, but only knew to deal death, and couldn't let go of it. Between the lean face and baggy overcoat, he might have appeared skinny, but B could sense the strength coiled up inside, like a snake or a steel spring.

He'd heard about those Akatsuki-a bunch of missing-nin turned mercenaries-, and they all wore long, dark cloaks.

This guy's coat wasn't similar, besides lacking the red clouds of the Akatsuki, but B didn't like him. His training valley was supposed to be both hidden and guarded, and overcoat here just, what, stumbled in without knowing how to even talk?

It was a pretty dumb ploy to make him lower his guard. He didn't know whether he was an Akatsuki in disguise, an associate of theirs, or just a missing-nin or bounty hunter hoping to get lucky (probably not the former; no headband protector, or indeed any markings to indicate his Village), but he shouldn't have been here.

Not in the mood for charades, B pointed at the horizon, speaking in a loud, carrying voice. 'Get a move on, fool, ya fool! You hear?'

He should be able to get the idea, whether there was a language barrier or not, and piss off. Then, B would take him down from behind and capture him, before bringing him to Kumo for interrogation. Clearly, their security needed beefing up.

When Overcoat still didn't get the message, B took out one of his swords, holding the tip close to his neck. Now or never...

***

Andrei growled. The guy thought he could hold him at sword point when he didn't even know where he was? As if it was his fault he was here?

He'd been about to leave anyway, but between Shades' attitude and this little gesture-not to mention, his instincts suggested Shades wouldn't let him get too far-, it looked like a change of plans was in order.

Andrei jabbed at Shades' neck, hoping to break it, or at least disorient him. Moving so fast it was surrounded by fire, the punch packed enough power to level a city block.

Shades' expression briefly grew angrier, before becoming determined. He leapt above the punch, flipping over Andrei, at the same time swinging the sword towards the were's own neck.

The whole thing had happened too quickly for him to react, but Shades' hadn't beheaded him. Oh, the blade had cut through his flesh pretty easily, and chipped his spine, but it had stopped then. It hadn't bounced off, but Shades had realised his blade was about to get stuck or be thrown away, so he'd ripped it free with a move Andrei was pretty sure should've broken his wrist.

Andrei turned around, coat spinning around his neck, trying to punch through Shades' skull, neck or chest before he landed, but the guy drew another sword in midair, severing the were's arm in a scissoring motion.

Andrei's arm healed before the first one had time to fall, or for the blood to spurt: at his speed, such things happened in slow motion. He jumped back before Shades could try and behead him again, but got two slashes across the torso for his trouble, shredding his coat, which had already lost a sleeve.

Andrei was about to try another angle when Shades pulled out a pen, coated it in lightning, and threw it at him. He barely had time to duck, but it still nicked him, tearing and burning through the top of his skull like a tiny thunderbolt.

Alright. Shades was too damn agile for him to land a hit on or get a grip on him, and he could also cut up his human form pretty easily.

Good thing he wasn't human.

***

B smirked to himself as Overcoat began running around, trying and failing to make himself hard to hit. He could throw another pen if he wanted to, but the guy was clearly using some sort of extremely efficient regeneration jutsu: a punch to the ground created a crater as wide as a city block, and several metres deep, despite the severed arm and hole through the skull he'd healed.

That, or he just had monstrous chakra reserves. But even so, using healing like that without any hand signs or seals, and still having the chakra to heal like that? Pretty impressive, but...

Eh. He'd killed worse.

Don't discount him, B, Gyuki spoke into his mind, sounding wary. I've got a bad feeling about this.

B nodded fractionally, but grinned to himself, despite his Bijuu's sigh. So he was being given the runaround; so what? He'd corner the guy at some point and cut him down to size, not like he could heal forever. Failing that, he'd just blast him, write down some nice bars. Something something, ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

B's smile froze on his face, then disappeared, as Overcoat, snarling, began trembling and shuddering, but not in fear or exhaustion. No, instead, it looked like his bones were shifting under his flesh, which sprouted dark brown fur as he grew a metre, and became much bulkier.

And, again, no hand signs. It reminded B, if anything, of his own transformations, but that didn't make sense. There was no Bijuu that looked like a bear, and this guy had no chakra cloak.

But he did, and he didn't like where this was going. Too many damn things that made no sense.

As his friend's chakra flowed over him, covering the ninja in a red, three-tailed, transparent cloak, B's teeth lengthened into fangs, and his eyes narrowed behind his glasses. With the Eight-Tails' power running through him, his reflexes had improved, but Overcoat, now looking like some kind of failed Sage but moving like nothing B had fought before, was coming at him so fast he was barely a blur, despite his size.

B was reminded of his bro's lightning armour, or the Yellow Flash's movements. He didn't like the comparison. As such, when he brought his swords up-all eight, this time-they were coated in lightning.

B tried to swing at the bear's neck, but his long arms were faster than he'd expected, quickly getting inside his guard to reach for his heart and head with clawed hands. Cursing inwardly, the shinobi planted a sharp kick in the bear's groin, sending him flying. B quickly leapt after him, his broken foot healing midair, wondering just what the hell that furry's bastard junk was made of.

The jinchuriki landed on the bear before he could rise, stomping on his face with both feet and shattering the platform they were on. Then, to keep him down, B brought two swords down on the sides of his neck, expecting to cut right through it.

Instead, they shattered like cheap glass, and the bear exploited the ninja's momentary surprised to swipe at him.

B jumped backwards, throwing the useless hilt aside as he landed on the ruined ground at the bottom of the stairs, to clutch his torn chest with one hand.

Gyuki urged him to transform further, and he agreed. His weapons weren't doing jack against Overcoat's transformation jutsu, and it looked like he didn't have enough juice at the moment.

Heh, B thought to himself. Didn't expect this when I got outta bed.

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Really, he'd expected a long day of demanding but boring training, it being a steady routine by now. He had to keep in shape, especially now that Yugito was missing. Instead, he'd nearly died because he'd been surprised. Like a rookie!

Aw, hell nah. He was Killer B, Lord Jinchuriki of the Hidden Cloud, and he wasn't gonna get taken down by this hairy...lout.

Bleh. Even his lines were shit. Clearly, more training was needed, but it wasn't like he could get out his notebook to jot some of the good stuff down, what with Overcoat pressing him.

Speaking of which, the big bastard in question landed a few metres in front of him, his clothes seemingly growing with him. That was some weird shit. B knew the Akimichi from Konoha could pull something similar, but usually, when ninja turned into animals, their clothes disappeared.

B glared steadily at him as Gyuki pumped even more chakra into him, his cloak thickening and darkening like a crimson cloud, until it had eight tails and the ground beneath him was cracking even further under the sheer weight of his power.

B flexed his claws, grinning at Overcoat with his cloaked form's fanged mouth. The guy didn't seem overly impressed, which made B wonder whether he knew anything about who he was about to get whooped by.

B was about to jump him again, when he noticed the guy was still holding the strip of flesh he'd ripped out of him in one bloody, paw-like hand. And, behind the fanged grin and fierce eyes, B thought he saw a flicker of sarcastic voice. Overcoat had a pretty expressive face, for someone who looked like the result of a bear screwing a monkey.

Then, the bear brought it up to his mouth, beginning to slowly chew on it, his dark eyes never leaving B's glowing white ones.

'Damn, you ugly git,' the shinobi said, despite himself. 'You're into some fucked up shit.'

Grin widening, Overcoat threw it down the hatch, not even bothering to swallow, as he charged B, blood still glistening on his muzzle.

***

Andrei was, for once, grinning on both the inside and the outside.

This mage was so far proving to be a pushover, not that he was letting his guard down. Oh, sure, he'd outmanoeuvred and cut up his human form pretty badly, but, the moment he'd gone hybrid? Becoming a thousand times faster, tens of billions of times stronger and tougher? The tables had turned.

He just hoped whatever produced the mana that smelled so foul-and different from the mage's; a bound demon?-wouldn't turn them again.

He scoffed silently, the sound thousands of times slower than his movements. Either it wouldn't be, or it would outmatch him and he'd die. Whatever happened, worrying would serve no purpose.

As such, when the mage, cloaked in a crimson, eight-tailed combat aura, came at him, the skeleton of some bull-like creature manifesting around him, Andrei just squared his shoulders to meet him head on.

Shades' arm slammed into his chest, bringing a vague memory of a wrestling match to Andrei's mind. Oh, he was strong, just not by transformer were stabdards. The corrosive aura coating the arm didn't do much, either, besides causing him to feel a faint itch.

It did ruin his clothes, though, as Shades wrapped him up in a bearhug, before slamming his head into Andrei's face-a headbutt that drew a laugh from the were, and a frustrated shake of the head from the mage. Shade then opened his mouth wide, and a sphere of mana appeared in it, so heavy it warped the air around it. Andrei punched through it, ignoring the resulting explosion to send the mage flying.

When he landed on claw feet, staggering on the shattered ground, Andrei followed, prepared to finish this, only for another of those electrised swords to fly at his eye.

Andrei ignored the resulting, sparking shards as it shatered on his eye. Dammit. It might have been harmless, but he'd thought the mage had discarded his swords, or that they'd been destroyed by his aura. Stupid. Surprises were the last thing you wanted in a fight.

He prepared to rip the mage's head off, but Shades lifted his arms, which grew into huge, bulky limbs the size of his body. They broke under the were's fists with a sickly sound that would take subjective days to reach his ears, but it was enough for the mage to fire another of those black mana sphere's into Andrei's mouth, which had been parted in a snarl.

The explosion went off in his throat like a nuclear arsenal going off, filling his guts with force that would have vapourised most of a mountain.

The effect it had on him was, outwardly, far less dramatic.

Oh, he was going to kill this bastard  slowly.

The mage had jumped away again, landing into a nearby lake, staring up at the glaring were with that big, stupid grin again.

Andrei followed once more.

***

 Huh, Gyuki thought in a surprised tone. I'm not used to people literally eating my Bijuudama. And here I thought the Raikage's old man was crazy...

I know, right?! B replied excitedly, to his friend's unsuprised, resigned chagrin. This is one of the best fights  ever! Screw training, I hope this goes on longer. A damn shame A ain't here...

The Hachibi hung his horned head, sighing-at the situation? The wordplay?-but B didn't miss his grin. Right. What do ya say we stop messin' around?

Best thing I've heard all day, since that bastard's annoyed growls!

And so, the Eight-Tails drew upon their bond, tapping into it even deeper, and his body soon covered and replaced B's, flowing into reality. A purple-skinned, bull-like creature stood taller and broader than most buildings, despite being partially submerged, flexing his muscular arms and the eight tentacles emerging from its waist. His head, one horn severed in the middle swayed to and fro as a broad, flat-toothed grin stretched his face.

Oh, yeah. Felt like coming home.

The bear-man neither stopped nor slowed down his charge, but Gyuki saw his eyes narrow in surprise.

Got another one comin' right up, ya little pain in the ass, he thought, bringing his hands together as the bear jumped, expecting to crush him, or at least keep him in place long enough to blast him to pieces.

Gyuki frowned to himself as his hands were smashed away, and actually felt little slashes across his palm, before the bear landed on his chest, then quickly scampered up towards his head, all the while tearing up his flesh. The Bijuu repeatedly tried to smack him away and crush him, but the furry little bastard either dodged or deflected his hits.

Gyuki snorted, releasing a cloud og ink, but it didn't slow the bear down one bit as he jumped into one flaring nostril, beginning to rip his insides apart.

You wish, Gyuki thought as he plucked the bear out with two fingers, breaking them as he barely managed to rip the guy out of his flesh. What the hell?

Whatever. This was ending now. Either he'd kill him, or bring his smoking carcass to Kumo for the Village to puzzle over. They'd love to have something like this up their sleeve, especially now, with the Two-Tails gone, captured or (probably) dead. Either way, it'd be a while before they found his sibling, and who knew what state Matatabi would be in when they did?

Gyuki charged up another Bijuudama, only for the bear to punch him in the throat, sending him flying farther than he'd ever been.

The chakra sphere went of prematurely, likely reducing most of the Valley to vapour, but the Eight-Tails wasn't thinking about that. Instead, he was trying to right himself as he landed in what looked like the ocean.

Had this little shit just punched him off the mainland?

Usually, Gyuki wasn't one to turn down a good soak, but he really wasn't in the mood for swimming. He'd much rather make sure whatever this guy was ended up sleeping with the fishes.

Gyuki stowed a sigh as he saw the bear home in on him again, running on water so fast every step caused it to steam. And here he'd thought maybe he could be slowed down by it...

It didn't look like he was water-walking, either; just moving fast enough to treat the ocean like it was solud ground.

Well, Gyuki thought, sneering, aren't you a nasty little piece o' work...

This time, he managed to fully charge up a Bijuudama before he fired it, straight at the bear, who met it with a punch. Gyuki almost snorted in disbelief-this was nothing like the firecrackers his bud's cloaked form fired-, then almost groaned in frustration as the shockwave of the bear's punch dispersed what little of the explosion hadn't been countered by the hit itself.

The bear ran out of the steam cloud, fur burned away, raw, smoking flesh showing bone here and here, and Gyuki grinned. So, you  can be hurt, huh?

Not like he'd really expected otherwise. His blasts could vapourise mountains. If the guy had shrugged  that off, he'd have called bullshit. As it was, he just had to keep him still enough to bladt him a few more ti-

Of  course he was healing again...

This might have just been one of the hardest fights he'd ever had. The guy's taijutsu wasn't the flashiest, but it  was monstrously strong, kind of like the Third Raikage's.

Except even  he hadn't used seemingly passive healing jutsu that let him recover from what should've been lethal wounds with seemingly no drawbacks.

Maybe he could fire another Bijuudama down his throat, blast him apart from the inside? It'd be finicky, what with the size difference, but, if he could just line the up the shot...

Gyuki opened his mouth, chest puffing, then spat out several ink blobs.

The bear, who'd clearly been expecting another Bijuudama, was taken by surprise, but not for long; by now, he'd probably spotted Gyuki's tentacles and made the connection.

So, by the time the B-shaped ink clones circled and jumped him, he was already in a fighting stance, and holding his ground-so to speak-as the clones tried to cover and seal him.

His movements were barely slowed down as he clashed his fists together, vapourising the ocean around farther than Gyuki could see, despite his height. The depth of the water turned to steam was several times greater than the Eight-Tails' height, so that the Tailed Beast was left in midair, above a steaming, boiling maelstrom.

But it had been enough time for him to fire off his Bijuudama, at the same time grabbing the bear with the fingertips of both hands, as-now freed of the clones who'd been vapourised alongside the water-he jumped at Gyuki once more. The Bijuu's arms were ripped from their sockets as he tore the bear apart, and the Bijuudama's explosion finished the job, even as it left his arms hanging by a threat and his body blackened and smoking.

Gyuki was blasted into the water, but, before he landed, he saw a smoking, fist-sized piece of flesh grow into the bear-man, looking fresh and pissed off.

Are ya shittin' me...?

The bear slammed into his chest and resumed ripping him apart. Gyuki didn't have to fake the pain, but his death? Misdirection.

Managing another Bijuudama as the guy tried to rip his head off, he blasted him far away enough to transform back into a tired and begin swimming to safety, hoping the severed tentacle he'd left behind-the explosion had been strong enough to look like an attempt to take the bear down with him-would be enough to trick him into thinking he'd won.

Is it a trick, though? I really don't feel like we've won, B.

Say what? No way! We live to fight another day!

***

Andrei drew the fur of the bear he'd hunted-of course-around him as he clutched the translation device he'd been given.

Some smarmy eldritch fuck who'd introduced himself as a work friend of David's, visiting to help but not bring him back home "yet".

'Hey!' he called out to Shades as he stepped onto the shore, trying to sneak past the rocks and into the forest. 'Sorry for trying to kill you. I think there's been a misunderstanding...'