Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto

-An Act of Desperation-

A lone shinobi stepped through the moldering remnants of the Konoha gates. His pace was slow and wary as he left the camouflage of the forest to approach the destroyed village entrance. Only faint traces of green paint remained on some of the larger pieces, the rest were charred black and rotting. Refusing to waste his time reminiscing about the old gate, the nin moved into the cover provided by the ruined buildings inside. Already the forest was reclaiming the abandoned streets and grass grew on piles of rubble that used to be homes. Like its few remaining citizens, Konoha would soon be nothing but a memory. At least the new vegetation gave him some cover as he made his way stealthily through the village he still loved, but could no longer call home.

"Finally here," sighed the exhausted shinobi as he walked into the remains of what used to be the Hokage Tower in the heart of Konoha. His legs twitched with fatigue after walking so far and risking his very life to get to his former village. The ruins of the once thriving community were constantly watched by the scavenging hunter-nins that sought the hefty sum offered for each Konoha headband they could acquire; preferably head, and not body, attached. Last night alone, six hours were spent crouched in the canopy of the huge, sheltering trees that surrounded Konoha, suppressing his chakra until the hunter-nins finally moved out of range. It had been a cold night without chakra circulating through his muscles to keep him warm and his threadbare uniform doing little to keep back the chill.

His first stop was the mission room. It was eerie to see the familiar spot so deathly quiet. It had always amazed him that the mission room was so loud when filled with people trained in stealth. The safety of the mission room must have been freeing to the high strung shinobi who frequented it. Returning to the mission room meant that they had once again cheated death. The fact that it was empty stood as testimony that their famed shinobi luck had finally run out.

He set his pack on the dusty carpet and began to unpack a few things. Out first was a collapsible burner that he had ablaze in moments. The pitiful warmth and light did little to push back the gloom that weighed heavily in the room. Next out was a small pot that went directly onto the burner. Then the last of his canteen's water was poured in the pot, hissing as it came into contact with the hot metal.

Once the water was boiling, out of the pack came a slightly battered cup of instant ramen. The man poured the boiling water into the styrofoam cup and closed the lid to wait. He looked at the water left in the pot; there was just enough for tea, though he didn't want to take too much time. "Oh, what the hell…" he muttered, and made the tea.

A slight scratching noise had him turned with a kunai in hand, in a move so fast only the Sharingan could have seen it. The cause of the noise did not look impressed. The man let out a small chuckle as the small rat ignored him and continued sniffing the air.

Picking up the flimsy cup, he stirred the noodles with his chopsticks before breathing a quiet, "Itadakemasu." He slurped up the beef flavored noodles as the rat eyed him warily but continued to sniff and move closer, the lure of the salty food overriding his natural instinct to flee.

"No need to be scared, little guy. No one here but us ghosts," he said then paused and added, "but if you think you are getting my ramen, think again." He chewed thoughtfully for a few more seconds before digging in his pack and pulling out his last ration bar. He unwrapped it, broke off a corner, and tossed it to his temporary rodent companion. Rats obviously didn't mind the taste of cardboard, judging by the way it devoured the scrap. He finished his ramen and his tea, all the while throwing small pieces of his last ration bar to the rat. "At least someone likes these things," he said with a wan smile.

Finished with his meal, he set the remaining ration bar on the floor for the rat and walked over to a small overturned wastebasket. It was dented and empty now, not like that last time he had seen it when it was overflowing with discarded mission reports he had made furious jōnin redo. He set the abused bin right side up and set his empty ramen cup and wrapper in it. Staring at the two lonely pieces of trash in the bin, he wondered how long they would sit there with no one to empty it. Aware that the compulsion to throw away his trash properly was not normal considering the mess that surrounded him, he indulged anyway. He needed the small sense of normalcy that such small actions gave him.

He turned and left the room quickly, just as he had done hundreds of times before, stopping only to heft his pack on one shoulder. Knowing it would never be used again, the camp stove remained untouched. He marched a familiar path down the hall to the Hokage's office. The door was ajar, hanging drunkenly from one hinge and threatened to give way entirely as he pushed it further open to enter. He sucked in a breath at the sight that greeted him.

The wall facing the Hokage monument was gone; the monument itself was gone as well. He had known this before, had seen it happen in fact, but this was the one view from his childhood that had remained to give him security. A muscle in his jaw bulged as his teeth clenched in resolve. If the job was done right, this would never happen. He just hoped all his planning and preparations worked correctly. The worst part was that that even if it didn't work, he would still be dead. There would be no second chances for his precious people.

He heedlessly popped a handful of soldier pills into his mouth. Gagging on the dry texture and bitter flavor, he wished he had saved the last of his tea for this moment. With a grimace he forced the potent medicine down. Satisfied they would stay in his stomach after the momentary nausea caused by all soldier pills passed, the lone shinobi set to work.

Dropping his pack on the floor, he began pulling out his tools. Soon several scrolls and a bottle of ink were spread around his knees as he rolled a writing brush between his fingers, determining the perfect spot on the floor to start. He drew the first stroke hesitantly, wanting it to be perfect. His speed increased as he continued to trace out the intricate seal that was no larger than his head. He checked it over for any possible mistakes before placing a large scroll in the center and centering himself. Time, the one thing never able to be recovered, was his enemy. While he may not be able to go back himself, he knew, in theory, that time-travel was possible. The Yondiame defied time and space every time he used his Hiraishin, by moving between spaces in the same time. The weary shinobi now fought to do the opposite, move between time in the same space. He had the place marked specifically, now all that was needed was the time. He fought to visualize every aspect of his earliest significant memory in this exact spot.

The memory was as strong now as the day he lived it. Sandiame had looked at him across his desk…

When the bright flash went off in the office, the genin team in front of Sarutobi visibly flinched while their jōnin sensei activated his Byakugan. The Sandiame appeared nonplussed from all outward signs, yet inside was a different story. He hadn't seen a flash like that since…well, since he was retired. "I think that I have some unexpected business to attend to, Hizashi-san, please drop your mission report off at the mission desk before you leave."

The Hyuuga jōnin knew a quick dismissal when he heard one and lead his genin team off as quickly as possible. "Of course, Hokage-sama. I see no reason for us to stay." Putting the emphasis on the 'see' was a rather direct way for a Hyuuga to state that they could not detect anything unusual with their dōjutsu.

The minute they left the office, Sarutobi picked up the scroll and set it on his desk, then addresed the rat-masked ANBU standing unobtrusively near the door. "Rat-san, can you check this over for me? You have developed a reputation for finding well-hidden traps."

"Of course, Hokage-sama," responded the stoic shinobi. As his ANBU scrutinized the scroll, Sarutobi studied the faint remnants of the seal left where the scroll appeared. There was no mistaking the seal for anything other than a Hiraishin seal. Wondering if Jiraiya had finally unlocked the secret of his student's signature jutsu, the Sandiame went back to sit at his desk.

After finding no traps, Sarutobi dismissed his ANBU and carefully opened the scroll. Surprised to find it blank, but knowing it was a common method seal masters used to protect sensitive information, he released a small amount of chakra into the scroll. The chakra revealed a full scroll of small precise writing that was nothing like Jiraiya's flashy script. He was not expecting anything too unusual despite the unorthodox method of the scroll's arrival since the elemental nations as a whole had been rather quiet the past few years, since their ceasefire with Kumo. 'Really,' he thought, 'how bad could it be?'

Two hours later, the Sandaime Hokage, The Professor, the God of shinobi, sat in absolute shock. Then he did something he had not done since finding out about his wife's untimely death during the Kyuubi attack, he wept openly.

Truthfully, he didn't think that any caring man faced with the tragic ramifications of many of his future rulings on some of his most innocent and vulnerable citizens would react any differently. He had failed. He had failed so badly, that one of his most loyal shinobi committed a suicide jutsu just to prevent him from repeating his many mistakes. Sarutobi had always considered himself a kind man, a rarity among the elite jōnin ranks, but if the scroll in his hands were to be believed, he had committed many crimes by inaction.

However, he would not be hasty. That would only lead to ruin. He needed help and the first thing he would do was get this damn thing verified. He carefully rolled the scroll back up, and called one of his ANBU back in, "Hound-san, take this directly to T&I and run a DNA test against the blood on the closing seal to genin Umino Iruka. Tell them I want the full course, including chakra analysis."

"Yes, Hokage-sama!" Hound said a split second before he disappeared in a puff of smoke.

Saurtobi then ran through a familiar set of hand signs before placing his palm on the ground and commanding, "Kuchiyosi no justu!" When a small monkey with a blue vest decorated with the Konoha leaf appeared before him, Saurtobi smiled slowly as he said, "Hello my friend, I need you to find an old student of mine."

*Edited: 10/11/11 for minor content changes and wording.