Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

In August, the Sand declared war on us and lost. The conflict lasted less than a day and served no purpose other than to confirm what we already knew: shinobi were good at killing each other—especially when the ones we killed had once been our allies.

That night, the Council gathered to discuss the state of things, and things weren’t looking good. The Hokage was dead, and Konoha lay in ruins. The next day, they counted the dead, and the real numbers were never made public. We couldn’t afford to look weak—not when the other villages were watching us like vultures circling a dead body. And in that scenario, we were the carcass.

Talk of a new Hokage began. The obvious candidates were the Legendary Sannin, the former students of the Third. If one of them had taken his life, another would carry on his legacy. But when they chose Jiraiya as his successor, my master flat-out refused and suggested the last remaining Sannin instead—Tsunade of the Senju. The Council agreed. The only question left was whether Tsunade would.

And no one knew where she was.

So we set out to find her, Jiraiya and I. Along the way, he would teach me my greatest technique: the Rasengan, created by none other than the Fourth Hokage. Back then, I had no idea that man was my father. No idea that Jiraiya was my godfather. I made no connection between the technique and myself. The way the Rasengan’s spirals resembled the symbol of my clan, the Uzumaki, seemed like nothing more than an amusing coincidence.

A few days later, we found Tsunade, and she wasted no time rejecting the offer. I remember being furious at her refusal. But now, I understand why she didn’t want to trade a life of freedom for a desk piled high with documents. A Kage’s hat casts a shadow over both the face and the heart of the one who wears it. Even her grandfather had suffered under its weight. No one in their right mind would want that burden.

But I wanted it more than anything.

“If I become Hokage,” I told myself, “the world will have to swallow its words.” That was me. I just wanted to prove them wrong. The village would accept me, even if it was begrudgingly. And no one was going to stop me.

That was my plan.

The Fox had one of his own.

Jiraiya and I weren’t the only ones who had found Tsunade. Orochimaru had as well. His battle against the Third had cost him his arms, and only the legendary medical Sannin could heal them. Help me regain my jutsu, and I will bring your loved ones back.

Sometimes life mocks us so cruelly that the only thing left to do is laugh along with it. I’m sure Tsunade considered his offer. But she didn’t take it. And for that, I respect her.

A fight was inevitable. Jiraiya and Tsunade faced Orochimaru, while I took on his disciple, Kabuto—a shinobi far stronger than I was. He had more experience, was smarter, and knew more jutsu than me. Naturally, he underestimated me. If he hadn’t, I never would have landed my Rasengan. And that mistake nearly cost him his life.

Watching him slam into that rock filled me, for a brief moment, with deep satisfaction. His body hit it like a cannonball, and he didn’t move for a long time. Wisps of white smoke rose from the wound in his stomach.

He was out of the fight. And so was I.

I had lost a lot of blood. I wasn’t even surprised when my legs gave out. I collapsed onto the ground, helpless, watching them battle.

I had never seen anything like it.

The three Sannin were weakened. And yet, each of them had more power in a single finger than I had ever possessed in my entire life. Seeing them fight, standing atop their massive summons, only deepened the feeling that I was staring into an unfathomable abyss.

A bottomless darkness—

And my feet, right on the edge.

I remember looking up at Jiraiya, standing tall on Gamabunta, and thinking about how effortlessly he belonged there. It wasn’t like when I had summoned him. The contrast was suddenly unbearable. My teeth clenched so hard they ground against each other. I felt my nails digging into my palms, followed by another pain—sharper. Deeper. Wet.

I looked down just in time to see Kabuto pulling a kunai from my stomach, his lips curled into a sadistic smile. Something erupted in flames where the Sannin fought, and the fire reflected crimson in the blade of his weapon and across his cracked glasses.

My gaze flickered to the trail of blood he had left as he crawled toward me, then back to his wild, unhinged eyes.

“I’ll let you in on a little secret,” he said, his kunai hovering dangerously over my navel. “The only reason you’re still alive is because killing you would be more trouble than it’s worth. That… thing inside you? There are people very interested in it, and they wouldn’t be happy if you died.”

Before I could react, Kabuto clamped a hand over my mouth and drove the kunai into my flesh again, cutting off my scream. His face was close to mine, his breath warm as he twisted the blade.

“But I don't give a damn about all that.”

Kabuto grinned. Blood stained his teeth, and seeing it sent a shudder through me—because I understood, then, that he was going to kill me.

“Orochimaru is wrong. Why keep you alive just so Akatsuki can take the Nine-Tails someday? Why let them have a weapon? That’s illogical! Irrational! It’s… a mistake.” Kabuto spoke quickly, his voice low, as if he wanted to make sure I heard every word before I died. “And mistakes are like a virus, Naruto. If you don’t eliminate them in time, they—”

Something strange flickered in his eyes. And for a second, it was like he had woken from a trance.

“Forget it,” he muttered. “Not worth it.”

His face went blank. Then Kabuto wrenched the kunai free and plunged it to the hilt into my heart.

Slowly, everything faded to black.

In an instant, the pain, the fear, the sickening sensation of cold metal inside me—vanished. And I felt relieved that it did, even though that could only mean one thing. I was dying.

The darkness was absolute. The abyss I had glimpsed before now stretched endlessly around me, an infinite night. And I stared into its depths.

Then the abyss stared back—

And I knew I wasn’t alone in it.

Chapter Text

At first, they were just eyes staring at me from the void—huge, bloodshot. Their two slit pupils gleamed in the darkness in such a way that I felt I was in the presence of a demon. But I knew what it really was. This wasn't the first time I had come face to face with the Kyubi.

Its chakra was dense and unbearably heavy, pressing against my throat like a tightening noose. It seeped from its body in the form of a crimson mist, and as it dissipated the darkness of that abyss, the enormous cage imprisoning the beast slowly came into view, its bars towering so high they vanished into the black sky above.

The Fox lay resting, its head atop its front paws. We stared at each other in silence. For a while, the only sound was its heavy breathing. Slow, rhythmic, like the ebb and flow of the tide. Every now and then, a drop would fall from somewhere in the distance, and the sound would echo through the emptiness, so sharp and crisp it sent a shiver down my spine.

This went on for some time. I couldn’t say how long.

It was the Kyubi who broke the silence first.

"Aren’t you going to do something about this?" it said. The Kyubi spoke slowly, its deep voice reverberating in my chest. And yet, this time, there was no malice in it. The Fox didn’t sound mocking—it sounded tired.

I shook my head. "There’s nothing I can do anymore."

It closed its eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, pulling the mist around it closer before exhaling and dispersing it again.

"I’ve watched you since the day you were born, boy. And despite your weakness, your many failures, and your unbearable stupidity," it said, a glint in its eyes, "you are no coward. Do you plan to disappoint me once more before you die?"

"I didn’t know you could be disappointed."

"You know nothing about me," it growled, "or about the world around you. You know nothing, boy."

A drop fell onto the damp ground, sending ripples outward until they covered the entire surface of the cavern we were in. The darkness had been replaced by the usual dim light of my inner world.

"Kabuto stabbed me through the heart," I said, "and you can’t bring the dead back to life."

"No," it said, "that, I cannot do."

More droplets fell, one after another, around me. The moisture had gathered into a pool, rising up to my ankles. I looked down, and my reflection stared back at me—red, gleaming eyes, just like the Fox’s.

Something stirred within me.

I stared at my palms. Now that they held no weapon, now that they weren’t clenched into fists, they were just the hands of a child. I was thirteen years old, and I had never truly contemplated death. It had always seemed like an empty promise, something distant, something that had nothing to do with me.

But that promise had become real.

My calm shattered like glass on stone. I clenched my fists as tears welled up in my eyes, blurring the cavern, my reflection, the massive bars of the cage…

I heard the Fox laugh at me. Felt its laughter in my bones.

But the beast was wrong. My tears weren’t of sorrow—they were of rage. I ran toward it, toward the cage, and slammed my bare fist against one of the stone bars.

"Kyubi!" I howled. "Give me your power!"

It narrowed its eyes at me.

"What use does a dead boy have for my power?"

"Cut the crap and do it! You’ve healed my wounds before. If I were dead, we wouldn’t be talking, would we? That means I still have a chance. Give it to me—hurry!"

The Fox laughed, pleased. Then it rose to its full height, towering over me from above.

"Do you even know what you’re asking for?"

"What I know is that I won’t die lying in a pool of my own blood! And especially not to someone like Kabuto." Kyubi exhaled deeply, its breath rolling out like clouds of vapor from between its fangs. "You said before that I wasn’t a coward, didn’t you?"

It let out a low growl.

I wiped my tears with the back of my hand.

"You were right. I’m not. I want to fight—I want to go back out there and tear him to pieces. Someone like him," I said, "doesn’t have the right to steal my future. You’ve been there all my life, Kyubi, you know how hard I’ve fought to get here. I can’t… we can’t let it all end like this."

"There is no 'we,' boy. Your life is your own problem."

"Then why have you saved it so many times?"

Silence.

"So, you want my power."

"Yes."

"And you’ll fight?"

I nodded.

"And what will you do with this Kabuto?"

I clenched my fists. A strange sound, like something tearing, echoed from above.

"I’ll kill him," I said.

Suddenly, the sound grew louder—then vanished.

"Oh? Will you? Is little Uzumaki a killer now?" Its tone was mocking, but beneath it, there was a vague sense of satisfaction.

Kyubi unfurled its nine tails behind it, spreading them wide like a fan. Then it said:

"This won’t be like the other times. You understand that, don’t you?"

"I do."

"No, you don’t. You’re just desperate."

A chuckle.

Slowly, the Fox began to release its chakra. The pressure rose so sharply that I lost my breath, and the water—somehow—began to rise as if it were raining upward. I felt the sweat on my skin do the same, lifting off me and hanging in the air like specks of dust.

We stayed like that for a moment. Then the Fox said:

"Very well. I’ll give you what you ask for."

And suddenly, the pressure vanished. The droplets suspended in the air all fell to the ground at once. Kyubi lowered its tails and slowly turned its back to me.

"Wait…!" I wanted to shout, but I couldn’t. I could only watch as it walked deeper into the cage.

"Where are you going?" I managed to say. "Aren’t you going to help me?"

Kyubi stopped and looked at me over its shoulder.

"You really don’t know what you’ve done."

Then it shook its head and kept walking until it disappeared.

I was left alone in the darkness. I was so dazed it took me a moment to realize what I was holding in my hands. It was a piece of parchment—large, rough, and torn in half. On each side, I could make out part of the word 'seal,' written in thick strokes of black ink. The ink looked wet, smudged, as if it had been rewritten over itself countless times.

The realization hit me like a bolt of lightning.

The Fox hadn’t retreated into its den.

It had left.

And in the dim light of my inner world, sitting inside the cage that had once housed the beast, only I remained.

The doors creaked, slamming shut with a thunderous clang. A great cloud of dust rained down from above, and as it fell, I looked back at my reflection in the water.

But it was no longer there.

Chapter Text

Kabuto smiled as he yanked the kunai from my chest. He was enjoying it. The tip of the blade dripped onto the bleeding wound he had inflicted, and for a moment, he stared at it with a strange glint in his eyes—as if he were a painter stepping back to admire his work.

That glint turned to horror when he saw the wound close before his eyes, as quickly as he had opened it.

"What...?" he murmured. He was so close to me that I saw my own reflection in his onyx eyes.

My reflection was that of a beaten puppy. Blood smeared my nose and lips. I hated the sight of it—I looked weak and pathetic. I wasn’t weak or pathetic. And a vermin like him had no right to kill me. At that moment, I heard a voice, as if someone had leaned in close to whisper in my ear.

The voice murmured, "Aren't you going to do something about it?"

And as if a switch had been flipped, my right hand shot out toward Kabuto and clamped around the arm holding his kunai. I squeezed. The sensation was just like crushing a cookie between my fingers; his bones splintered with astonishing ease.

How could it be— I thought as Kabuto screamed in pain—that this ninja had nearly killed me? The very thought made me blink. The kunai he had used to stab me had fallen onto my chest. The open wound was now a scar that looked weeks old.

Without thinking, I grabbed the kunai and drove it into his throat.

Or at least, that was my intention. Kabuto reacted swiftly, catching the blade between the fingers of his uninjured hand. Blood began to seep between his index and middle fingers where the edge sliced his skin. His hand trembled as he struggled against the force of the stab. I blinked again, surprised that I wasn’t applying any further force.

"Wow," I said sincerely, "you really are weak."

A murderous gleam flashed in his eyes.

"I’ll drown you in your own blood."

We attacked at the same time. Kabuto stretched out his wounded hand, and a greenish aura of chakra flared around it. The fact that he could still move it meant he had some regeneration—or perhaps the guy was just insane.

Whatever the case, Kabuto attacked me with his injured arm. I recognized the move as the Chakra Scalpel—a cutting jutsu used by medical ninjas. The guy meant every word of his threat, and he might have succeeded if that hand hadn’t been caught.

Someone grabbed his arm from the side. I heard Kabuto grunt in effort before surrendering in the struggle. We both looked up at the same time: a face identical to mine stared back at us, with slit pupils gleaming fiercely.

"Do I have to do everything myself?" he snapped, irritated. "Watch and learn, kid!"

The shadow clone suddenly inhaled, clenched its free fist, and smashed it into Kabuto's face with such force that it sent him flying several meters. The sound of its knuckles striking his cheek was brutal—and everyone heard it.

In the distance, the battle between the Sannin continued. But for a moment, everyone turned to look at us. I felt their eyes drilling into the back of my head as the clone grabbed my hand and helped me up.

"Next time someone tries to kill you, hit first and talk later," it said, annoyed. "From now on, no more of that nonsense, got it?"

Though it spoke in my voice, something was off. The tone was slightly deeper—but it wasn’t just that. "His way of talking," I thought, "is different from mine."

It occurred to me that this clone had appeared without me making any seals. I assumed it was the Fox’s influence—I could feel its chakra burning in my veins.

"Tough little rat, huh?" the clone said, nodding toward Kabuto. "I meant to snap his neck, and yet he’s already up. Well," it chuckled, "let's try again."

Kabuto staggered. The blow seemed to have dazed him, yet his face remained that of a cornered predator. I could feel his murderous intent even from a distance—a cold sensation, like a shiver when you know someone is watching you from the shadows.

A drop of blood trickled from his nose, and he wiped it away with his thumb. He muttered something, but I couldn’t make it out.

Someone shouted my name. I recognized Jiraiya’s voice from above. The clone and I turned to look at him—he was perched atop Gamabunta, his white mane whipping in the wind as his summon clashed with Orochimaru’s.

The giant toad struck the head of the massive purple snake on which the other Sannin stood watching me. Even amid that battle, its reptilian eyes remained fixed on me, filled with a hunger I could feel even from afar. Then Tsunade’s slug—massive as the other beasts—charged at the snake, and together with Gamabunta, they brought it crashing down with a tremor that shook the ground.

Almost simultaneously, Kabuto lunged at me, both hands wrapped in chakra scalpels. Despite his injuries, he was still fast.

Kabuto sprinted toward us and then vanished.

A moment later, he attacked from behind with his chakra blades. In one swift move, he sliced the throat of my shadow clone as it turned, then shoved it aside, and, wearing a homicidal grin, charged at me.

He never got the chance.

As the first shadow clone disappeared in a puff of smoke, another appeared behind Kabuto and grabbed him by the ponytail, yanking him back violently.

"Not so fast, idiot!" the clone laughed, just before the chakra scalpel split it in half.

With a roar of rage, Kabuto spun toward me, ready to attack. But I had already closed the gap and drove my fist into his stomach with an uppercut that doubled him over.

The impact made him cough up blood.

I smiled.

"Choking in your own blood, are you?"

"Damn you..." he growled.

A moment later, his right hand shot toward my throat—but it was slower than before, and I swatted it away, careful not to touch his chakra. Then I threw my head back and slammed the forehead protector I wore into his nose.

Kabuto collapsed onto his back with a heavy thud, enveloped in a cloud of dust and dirt.

I heard someone chuckle. It was one of my shadow clones, standing beside me with arms crossed and a satisfied grin.

"Serves him right," it smirked. "I never liked that guy."

Another clone appeared from behind, placing a hand on my shoulder.

"Next time, hit him harder," it advised.

A third clone had appeared behind Kabuto, who was starting to rise, and crouched beside the Sound ninja, tapping him on the forehead with an index finger.

"Look at his nose—it's broken!"

Then, in a flash of green light, Kabuto’s chakra scalpel sliced the clone’s arm off at the elbow. The clone laughed before vanishing in a puff of smoke.

"Now he’s mad," another clone observed.

"Oh, he’s definitely lost his shit."

"Wasn’t this guy supposed to be strong?"

More laughter echoed. In the distance, the sounds of a battle nearing its end reached us. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jiraiya deflect an attack from Orochimaru and Tsunade blocking a punch. The Sannin fought with intense vigor, but they seemed slower than before—as if they were exhausted.

Kabuto slowly got to his feet. His nose bled from both nostrils. This time, he didn’t charge at me as before; instead, he studied me with his eyes while wiping the blood from his face.

After a few seconds, he spoke.

"Tell me how you did it."

"Did what?"

A flash of anger crossed his face.

"You know what I mean, idiot! Using the Fox’s power without losing your head... that wound... you shouldn’t be capable of such a thing. A brat like you—"

"This brat just knocked you down with one blow," I retorted. Kabuto ignored me.

"Was it Jiraiya? A sealing technique, perhaps... there's Uzumaki blood in you, too."

As he ranted aloud, Kabuto kept glancing over at where the Sannin were fighting. I noticed that his nose had stopped bleeding—so he did have some sort of regeneration.

"No, it couldn’t have been him," he concluded, "unless..." An odd expression crossed his face, and suddenly he looked at me with intense scrutiny: "Impossible..."

"Hey, four-eyes," a clone cut in, "I’m sorry to interrupt your monologue, but you should have been dead a couple of minutes ago." Then he turned to me, "Don't you agree, boy?"

Something in his tone sent a shiver down my spine.

"Yeah," I said, "let’s finish this."

Two clones rushed toward him, and Kabuto tensed.

"Do you think you can take me down? You don't have what it takes..." one of the clones punched him in the face, making him spit blood, "I’m gonna kill you, Naruto!"

But the blows kept coming. The two clones savaged him—one drove its knee into his stomach while the other grabbed him from behind. Kabuto cursed loudly, broke free from them, and made them vanish with two precise cuts at neck level. When a third clone leaped at him, Kabuto stabbed it through the heart. I saw his hand emerge from its back like a spike.

By the time the clones had vanished into smoke, others had taken their place. A kick struck him at the side; a fist punched his temple.

Kabuto fell to the ground once more. Then, he exploded into a cloud of smoke.

A piece of wood appeared where he had been just moments before.

It was like a gust of wind. Kabuto hurtled toward us, obliterating all the clones in a heartbeat, and lunged at me. We exchanged several blows, and his chakra scalpel grazed my cheek, slicing a cut from the corner of my mouth to my ear.

I immediately felt warmth in the area, and I knew the wound had sealed.

He widened his eyes at that, and continued his assault.

I dodged another slash and landed two or three punches to his side and face. I saw him stagger, but he held on. A clone grabbed him from behind, and he cut off its arms; then, turning toward me, he grazed my thigh with his scalpel and, gasping, ducked under a hook he was aiming to use to incapacitate me.

"Die," he said.

Green chakra flared, aiming at my heart.

"No."

I caught his hand just in time. My fingers closed around his outstretched hand and squeezed. I felt his bones break under my grip. I wasn’t even aware that I had coated my hand in a dense layer of red chakra—so thick that his blade couldn’t cut me.

Kabuto’s eyes moved from my hand to his, and then to my face.

There was fear in them.

"How did you...?" he managed.

I pulled my arm back and slammed it into his chest. Kabuto was sent flying a few meters, his feet leaving two deep grooves in the ground. His back slammed against the chest of a clone, which wrapped an arm around his neck while two others grabbed his arms.

"Damn monster!" Kabuto roared. "I don't know how you did it, but I'll find out. I'll cut you open, examine you, dismember your joints, and rip your organs out... I'll butcher you like a pig and take everything from you!"

"Hey," I snapped, "shut the hell up. I'm trying to think."

I was being honest. I felt as if my brain were submerged in some viscous, heavy substance. There was something I wanted to remember, but I wasn’t sure what it was. It was an incredibly frustrating feeling.

"Let me help you out."

A clone appeared behind me and yanked my arm back, forcing my palm upward while another moved its hand near it.

A mass of chakra began to gather in the palm of my hand. I saw it spin at the corner of my eye—it looked like a tiny crimson storm. Kabuto noticed it too, and his enraged face turned to one of terror. The Rasengan kept growing in size, and as it did, the air around it churned with increasing violence.

The sphere started to weigh down in my hands. I felt the ground beneath my sandals crack.

"Just a little more..."

I watched Kabuto struggle with the clones, but they held him firmly in place. He must have been exhausted. Still, he found enough strength to curse me loudly. His face was disjointed and he was sweating.

"Wait!" he shouted, "I know what happened to you."

"Yeah?"

"Don't listen to him," said one clone, "he's a liar."

"You're unable to control them, aren't you? Your clones."

I looked at him. He gave me a nervous smile.

"So, it's true. Listen: I can help you," a bead of sweat trickled down his temple as Kabuto swallowed hard. "You need me. You have no idea what..."

The clone behind him covered his mouth with its hand.

"Shush" it smiled. "No more talking."

At that moment, the Rasengan stabilized into a perfect, red sphere—three or four times larger than before.

For a moment, everything seemed to freeze—the rotation of the jutsu, the wind it unleashed, the struggle of Kabuto against the clones. The clone and I locked eyes.

"Rasengan!" I roared, preparing to attack.

Kabuto shouted as well, "Orochimaru-sama!"

I think that was when he knew he was going to die.

And he would have, if not for the snake that swooped in from above. Its gaping jaws were so immense that for a moment I thought the sky had turned black.

Chapter Text

Few shinobi have ever summoned Manda, the most powerful of its kind, and even fewer have managed to control it. As proud as it was fearsome, at the slightest sign of weakness it would turn on its summoner, devouring them in a single bite.

That Orochimaru could still command it meant that Manda was unaware of what had happened to its arms. Otherwise, its former master would have long been its meal. Unlike Gamabunta, Manda knew no loyalty—only strength.

And strength was what it was about to encounter.

Instead of attacking Kabuto, I aimed my Rasengan upward. "Go ahead, snake. Try to swallow me—let’s see who chokes first." The chakra swirling in my right hand intensified and grew in size, and I felt as though I were holding a heavy ball of steel above my head.

The snake reached us moments later.

Its sulfurous breath hit my face as it closed its enormous jaws around us, biting into the ground as if sinking its teeth into an apple.

Everything went dark—except for the reddish light emanating from my jutsu. Without hesitation, I slammed it against what I assumed was the beast’s palate. The Rasengan exploded inside its mouth, and Manda roared in pain, shaking its head so violently that Kabuto and I were tossed from side to side.

For a few moments, chaos reigned.

The snake opened its mouth again, and the light poured back in, just in time for me to see Kabuto finishing off the last of my clones.

He panted with a smile on his face. But it wasn’t him who caught my attention—it was what lay behind. Two yellow irises emerged from Manda’s throat, jagged and gleaming like those of a predator. I caught a glimpse of Orochimaru’s face before the snake closed its mouth—the Sannin was smiling, his eyes wide, like a child who had found a new toy.

"Naruto Uzumaki..." he hissed, "I fear I misjudged you. I thought you were nothing more than an insignificant child—another one of Konoha’s mistakes. But what you just did..." he added, his voice filled with emotion, "was marvelous! Truly fascinating."

Orochimaru chuckled softly. Outside, something crashed hard against Manda’s head, nearly knocking me to the ground.

"Oh, what a pity," he said, "we're almost out of time."

Then something shifted in the darkness. There was the rustle of fabric, followed by a strange snap, and a rush of air. Something flew rapidly toward me. Blind as I was, I couldn’t react in time—but it did react.

It appeared beside me, its eyes lit up red, surrounded by an aura of chakra. A dim red light illuminated the inside of Manda’s mouth, as if it were a small bonfire. That’s when I saw it: the shadow clone held something in its right hand.

It took me a moment to understand what it was.

It was Orochimaru’s neck, stretched out toward me like a long, sinuous snake. His head hung in the air, just a few centimeters away from me.

Its form—with that monstrous neck—reminded me of an evil spirit. But the chill that ran down my spine wasn’t caused by Orochimaru; it was the furious glare in my clone’s eyes.

I didn’t recognize myself in it. The way its pupils shone in the darkness—intense yet empty. That cold demeanor. It didn’t look like a shadow clone. It didn’t look like me.

The Sannin’s mouth was open, its sharp fangs oozing something that resembled venom. I recalled the Death Forest, what happened to Sasuke, and I grew furious.

I wasn’t alone. The shadow clone gripped Orochimaru’s neck with its fingers and drew its face close, its eyes blazing with intensity.

"You tried to take it away from me, kid," it said in a cold, deep voice, "and that was a mistake."

Orochimaru’s pupils slowly rotated until they met those of the shadow clone.

"Kyubi...?" Orochimaru murmured that name with a mix of recognition and surprise. Kyubi. I tensed. Until that moment, I hadn’t even considered it—but now it was clear: that wasn’t my voice. That wasn’t my chakra. Since when...?

Silence fell. For a moment, Orochimaru, Kabuto, the clone, and I exchanged looks, the tension in the air almost palpable—or perhaps it was just the stench of Manda’s breath. The clone edged closer to Orochimaru and whispered something that made his eyes widen even more.

I hadn’t known that man was capable of fear. But that was exactly what was transforming his serpentine face.

Suddenly, his fear turned to anger.

Orochimaru opened his mouth, and a blade-like edge emerged, slicing through the clone’s face from one side to the other.

And a second later, something enormous slammed into the snake from one side, followed by an even stronger blow from the other. Both impacts made it shake its head in different directions, and Manda roared—whether in pain or fury, its mouth flung open wide as two massive toad hands grabbed each jaw and held them apart.

Then someone appeared between them, silhouetted against the inner light. From his long hair, I recognized Jiraiya—but there was something off about him.

It wasn’t until my eyes adjusted to the light that I saw his face clearly.

Jiraiya was ashen. The wrinkles on his face formed a deathly expression—a face I didn’t know, that seemed unworthy of the man. Yet it wasn’t. For the first time in my life, I wondered how many enemies had fallen by his hand.

With a firm tug, he grabbed my jacket and threw me out of Manda’s mouth. I landed in someone’s arms—Tsunade caught me effortlessly as she leaped onto Gamabunta’s head.

"It’s over, Naruto," she said, holding me tight. "That’s enough."

Tsunade, bruised and bloodstained, still radiated strength. Her voice was steady and soothing, yet I wasn’t calm at all. The image of my clone’s eyes burned in my mind. And that animalistic hunger emanating from Orochimaru, the way he looked at me... the emptiness in Jiraiya’s expression. I couldn’t shake those images from my head. A question emerged inside me:

What had happened to me?

Disturbed, I broke free of her embrace and stood up on the toad. The wind stirred our clothes and Tsunade’s hair, tied back in a golden ponytail.

We both watched Jiraiya from above, as he moved toward the Sound ninjas. He didn’t linger long.

"I'm sorry, Orochimaru. You’ve gone too far," he said, his voice tinged with sorrow. But his hands didn’t tremble.

"Gamabunta," he commanded as he leaped onto the toad's head, "do it."

I think Manda understood what was happening, for it began to thrash even more vigorously. Its strength was immense, sweeping away everything in its path. Its fangs sank into Gamabunta’s flesh, and the toad roared in pain—but it never let go.

Then, it spat out liters of oil into Manda’s mouth while that beast cursed Orochimaru with deafening screams.

At the same time, Jiraiya formed the seals for a jutsu. I recall a brief pause before he unleashed it. In that pause, Tsunade said his name, and he clenched his eyes shut before reopening them and unleashing hellfire onto the oil.

The flames roared, and for a moment, I saw Manda’s shadow writhing within the blaze. The stench of burning flesh hit me hard.

I didn’t look away.

Chapter Text

Manda loomed over us like a pillar of fire. As the flames burned more fiercely, its scales blackened, and the air around it shimmered like a mirage. Dark, acrid smoke seeped from its half-open mouth, where the fire roared the loudest. The agony was immense. A lesser creature would have collapsed instantly.

It endured.

Proud and filled with rage, the lord of serpents opened its burning jaws and roared; and though the fire had consumed its tongue and stolen its voice, Manda cursed us. The crackling of the flames and the howling wind filled the silence left by its missing voice, and for a moment, I thought the serpent looked almost beautiful.

With its last remaining strength, Manda lunged at us. But it was too late. It was dying, barely holding onto a fraction of its former power.

Gamabunta sidestepped and, with a single stroke of its massive tantō, severed its neck.

The two halves of the serpent—one long, one short—crashed onto the ruined ground with a thunderous impact. And there they would remain until the fire consumed them completely.

Slowly, Gamabunta sheathed its tantō; the blade slid into the scabbard with a metallic click. No one spoke for a while. We simply watched the flames dance among thick columns of black smoke that slowly rose and vanished into the sky.

"So, the toad defeats the snake. That was a good fight," Gamabunta nodded, satisfied. "Wouldn't you say so, Manda, you damn idiot?"

The serpent did not answer.

Gamabunta sat down with a heavy thud and stabbed its tantō, scabbard and all, into the ground beside it. Then it brought its pipe to the flames to light it and took a long drag while watching Manda's body burn.

After a while, Jiraiya approached us. He moved clumsily, as if each step required careful consideration. The drug Tsunade had given him was still affecting him. Fighting in that state must have taken incredible willpower—especially against an opponent like Orochimaru.

Though that was nothing compared to having to kill him. As far as I knew, they had once been teammates. I imagined myself in his place, with Sasuke in Orochimaru's. The mere thought made me shudder.

Jiraiya studied me for a moment before placing a hand on my head.

"Well done, brat," he said, ruffling my hair. "Though you sure gave me a hell of a scare."

He smiled. It didn't come out quite right.

Somehow, the wrinkles on his face seemed deeper than before.

"Don't let yourself get swallowed by a giant snake again," he joked.

"Don't worry, I don't think I'll be running into any more of them."

Something flickered across his face, and Jiraiya removed his hand, tucking it into his robes. He pulled out a pipe, similar to Gamabunta's, only normal-sized. Slowly, he brought it to his lips. I noticed his hands trembled—maybe from the drug.

"I suppose not," he said, lighting the pipe with a sharp exhale.

Meanwhile, Tsunade crouched beside me and brushed the hair from my face with her fingers. I tried to pull away, but her hands were firm.

"Hold still," she said, examining me closely. Her hands moved to the scar on my chest. It hadn't changed much since I last looked at it: ugly and uneven, it gave the impression of being old, as if it had always been there.

I let her do it. There was something about Tsunade that made me trust her. After all, I had seen her risk her life for Jiraiya and for me. The sensation of having a woman take care of me like that was… strange for an orphan like me. It made me uneasy, and I wanted to pull away. Fortunately, Tsunade finished quickly.

"Well?" Jiraiya asked, exhaling a puff of smoke.

"There's nothing wrong with him. The wound is completely healed, and when I say completely…" Tsunade ran her fingertips over my scar and frowned. "It's hard to believe." She pressed her lips into a thin line. Then, as if deciding something, she smiled and patted my chest. "Either way, you're fine. You're turning into quite the shinobi, Naruto."

I smiled back, unsure of what to say.

"Uh, thanks."

Jiraiya grumbled, taking another drag from his pipe. He didn't take his eyes off me—not until much later, when both Katsuyu—the slug—and Gamabunta had vanished, and we arrived at the nearest village to spend the night.

Just outside the village, there was a modest inn with an onsen a little ways off. We booked two rooms. Jiraiya and I took one, while Tsunade and her apprentice, Shizune, took the other. She was a medical ninja too and couldn't have been older than thirty. Strangely, despite her master being twenty years older, the two of them looked about the same age.

We decided to bathe before dinner. There were two changing rooms, one for men and one for women. Jiraiya and I entered the men's side. It was a small wooden room with a few seats and shelves for storing clothes.

Jiraiya undressed, carefully folding his clothes before placing them on the shelf.

"Come on, let's get in," he said. "It'll do us some good."

"I guess I should just throw this away."

I was referring to my clothes. They were ruined from the fight, dirty, and torn around the chest. The fabric was still damp and reeked of blood and sweat. I felt relieved to take them off.

Mimicking Jiraiya, I folded my clothes and placed them beside his. He raised an eyebrow.

"Since when are you so tidy?"

I shrugged, and he chuckled. Then he slid open the door leading outside. A cold breeze rushed in, making my skin prickle.

"I could ask you the same."

We walked along a short stone path. The baths were at the end, with a beautiful view of the forest beyond. We must have been at a decent altitude.

I wondered if I could still see Manda's smoldering remains from there, but when I craned my neck to check, all I saw were trees.

The water was the perfect temperature. Immediately, I felt the tension and fatigue drain from my muscles. Well, what little I had. Next to Jiraiya, I felt scrawny. He had broad shoulders, muscular arms, and defined abs. I, on the other hand, looked like an overcooked noodle—soft and shapeless. Damn it, what had I been doing all this time?

"What are you staring at?" he asked.

"You're in pretty good shape for a guy in his fifties."

Jiraiya burst out laughing and raised an arm from the water to flex his bicep.

"Jealous, huh? Don't worry, you'll get one of these when you grow up." He lowered his arm back into the water. "By the way, call me an old man again, and I'll drown you."

I smirked, and he mirrored it. We sat in silence for a while, relaxing in the hot water. In the distance, a gentle breeze rustled the trees as the night deepened.

"Hey, old man."

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry you had to do what you did earlier."

A breeze rippled across the water, ruffling Jiraiya's damp hair. He closed his eyes for a moment. I continued,

"It was my fault. If that snake hadn't swallowed me, we wouldn't have—"

"Naruto," he cut me off, staring at me intently. "You're not to blame for anything. Some things… some things just have to happen. We're shinobi. That's our life."

"Orochimaru was your friend."

"He was. And he was also many other, much worse things. The choices that led him to that point were his own. We can't… carry that guilt."

"But you do."

He gave me a strange look.

"I suppose I do," he admitted, then smiled. "But you already know your master is a terrible example."

I shook my head.

"I know it was hard. If I had been in your place, if it had been Sasuke… I don't know if I could've done something like that, I…" I trailed off, sinking into the water until only my nose was above the surface, suddenly feeling embarrassed.

Jiraiya ran a hand over his face, rubbing his eyelids with his index finger and thumb.

"It's okay, Naruto. Thank you for telling me," he said. The silence that followed was awkward. Neither of us knew what to say. Jiraiya chose to change the subject. "By the way, that boy, Kabuto… you surprised me. I didn't expect you to hold your own against someone like him."

"To be honest, neither did I."

"I've seen few medical-nin like him. He wasn't at Tsunade's level, of course, but well, no one is. He was a pretty dangerous guy… you've improved a lot, Naruto."

"I don't feel that way," I admitted. "If it hadn't been for the Fox, I would've died. I hit him with the Rasengan, Jiraiya, I hit him with everything I had, and still…"

"I saw your technique. I won't say it was perfect," he said, "because it wasn't, but the fact that a kid your age can use it is an achievement in itself. Your solution with the clones is clever, by the way. But you need to learn to not rely on them."

"Kabuto pierced my heart," I blurted out. "I was dead, Jiraiya, but I'm not anymore. How is that possible?"

"The Kyubi's chakra is very powerful, Naruto. You already have some regenerative abilities just by being an Uzumaki. Your clan is full of tough, stubborn people. I suppose that, combined with the Fox's power, makes you hard to kill."

"You suppose?"

"Anyway, I doubt he actually pierced your heart. What I think happened is that the pain made you feel that way; it's normal to be mistaken when you have a knife in your chest. What matters to me is that you're alive. To be honest, that's what I care about the most right now."

"It feels like you're not taking this seriously."

"On the contrary, Naruto, I pay close attention to everything you say. But there's a time and place for everything, and right now, it's time to be grateful that we're alive. Relax a little, will you? I, for one, need it."

With a sigh, Jiraiya let himself sink into the water. After a moment, I decided to do the same.

Chapter Text

I opened my eyes.

I was alone in the water. I figured I must have fallen asleep for quite some time, judging by how dark everything was. Still groggy, I splashed some water on my face, thinking about what I had been dreaming. I remembered scattered, blurry images of unfamiliar places. Forests, mountains, and endless night plains. A beautiful temple reflected in a moonlit lake.

I felt nostalgic for it.

Outside the water, a cold wind blew, making me shiver. It took me a while to decide to leave the hot springs. But it was almost nightfall, and I'd rather not miss dinner. So I hurried toward the dressing rooms, hugging myself and cursing under my breath. I slid open the door and stepped inside.

No sign of Jiraiya. No sign of my clothes either. Instead, there was a black yukata with a note on top. I recognized my master's cramped handwriting: "Put it on. We're at the restaurant I told you about. We're waiting for you. Jiraiya."

I dressed quickly, feeling an empty sensation in my stomach. The yukata was simple, with a pattern of gray lines that almost disappeared into the black fabric. The belt was gray as well. I tied it around my waist absentmindedly while wondering if the inn served ramen. That's when I felt hands behind me, firmly fastening my belt.

I turned around to find myself face-to-face with a shadow clone.

"Much better than that horrible jacket you usually wear. Though I don't mind the orange."

The clone smiled in a way that sent chills down my spine.

"Thanks," I said cautiously, "though I don't remember summoning you."

His smile widened. But it was only his mouth that moved; the rest of his face remained expressionless.

"You didn't" he said, patting my cheek.

A shiver ran down my spine. I took a step back and tried to discreetly dispel the clone. Nothing happened. I tried again, with the same result.

"You're breaking my heart."

His tone dripped with sarcasm. He was wearing the same black yukata as me, only without Konoha's headband. Trying to act casual, I grabbed mine and tied it to my belt so it wouldn't bother me during dinner.

"So now you're just going to show up whenever you feel like it?" I complained, studying him carefully. "Great. Because having you locked up in my stomach wasn't enough of a curse."

I swallowed hard. I think he noticed.

I heard him chuckle softly. Even though his voice was mine, there was something off about it. I had noticed it before, but now that we were alone, it was even more obvious.

"What do you want?" I snapped. "Just spit it out already."

The clone tilted his head.

"I can't think of anything else I could possibly want from you."

I tried to hold his gaze, but he didn't blink. The whole situation was making me nervous, and though I tried to keep my composure, the truth was that seeing him in front of me was making my stomach churn.

"You've never done this before. Just appearing like this out of nowhere. How did you—?"

"It scares you," he interrupted. I shivered. It did.

I crossed my arms. We locked eyes again. He was still smiling like he was enjoying the whole thing. He probably was.

"Are you not going to tell me?"

Silence. The smile remained, frozen in time. I couldn't take it anymore and left the room, sliding the door shut behind me. I used too much force. I felt the door tremble as I leaned my back against it, breathing deeply. I was sweating. How was this even possible…? My heart started pounding hard in my chest. Then, footsteps approached the other side of the door. I heard a heavy breath press against the wood.

"See you soon, kid," the clone whispered.

I ran all the way to the restaurant. I stopped outside the entrance, sweaty and panting. The air was cold, the sky was dark, and I still felt like the clone was right behind me.

When I looked back, no one was there. I sighed and stepped into the inn.

Inside, the atmosphere was warm and pleasant. It was a traditional-looking place, with wooden floors and walls, and simple decor. There weren't many people inside. I left my sandals by the entrance next to others that I recognized as Jiraiya's. His were heavy wooden geta sandals. They were placed near two smaller pairs, which I assumed belonged to Tsunade and Shizune.

A young woman greeted me with a brief bow. She was short and slender, her clothing adorned with a delicate floral pattern. She welcomed me and asked if I wanted a table. I asked about Jiraiya, but she didn't recognize the name.

"The guy with the white mane and the face paint."

"Ah!"

She led me to the most secluded table in the restaurant. There weren't many customers, and those who were there ate in peace. I liked the place and the relative silence it had.

Until a laugh rang out that I recognized immediately.

"I'll take it from here," I told the woman. "No way to miss him."

Sometimes Jiraiya truly laughed, and when he did, his laughter was like thunder, echoing through the room. It didn't happen as often as one might expect, and when it did, Tsunade usually had something to do with it.

They were sitting across from each other, sharing a bottle of liquor. Both were laughing. Tsunade was leaning over the table, resting her elbow on it, holding a tiny cup between her middle finger and thumb. Her index finger pointed at Jiraiya as she told Shizune:

"And the idiot—seriously—started spying on us through the peephole! As if we wouldn't catch him!"

Jiraiya let out a booming laugh and downed his drink in one gulp.

"That was the first time she really hit me," he said, acknowledging me with a glance. I sat beside him as he continued, "She punched me so hard, Shizune, I thought I was going to die. Since then, I've been more careful when spying on her." He winced when Tsunade kicked him under the table, and Shizune laughed, covering her mouth with her hand.

"I see you two haven't changed a bit."

"I carry my age with dignity. Others cheat" he said, dodging another kick. Then he turned to me and ruffled my still-damp hair until I batted his hand away.

"Finally decided to show up! One more minute and I'd have dragged you here myself. What are we ordering?"

"Ramen" I said.

Jiraiya gave me a serious look.

"Naruto, son, don't you ever get tired of eating ramen?"

"Don't you ever get tired of drinking?"

He raised his eyebrows, a smirk tugging at his lips.

"Fair point."

I shrugged.

After a while, the waitress came to take our order. Jiraiya ordered a good variety of dishes, most of them some kind of meat. I tried to ask for a bowl of ramen, but before I could, he shut my mouth with his fingers and said:

"I'm paying, I'm choosing."

But then, when Tsunade added a few more dishes to the list, he didn't object at all. I figured that when someone could hit as hard as she did, people were more willing to go along with their suggestions. Shizune added some pork skewers to an already considerable order. Then Jiraiya asked for two bottles of sake and four cups.

"Four?" I asked.

"Not a chance," he said.

The dishes started arriving one after another. None of them lasted long on the table. I was starving, and so were the others. Besides, Tsunade ate like two people combined. Much later, I would find out that the Senju, like the Uzumaki, had a huge appetite. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that both clans shared some blood, even if it was a distant connection.

The conversation flowed as we ate.

"One time, I tried to set him up with a Yamanaka," Jiraiya was saying. "I arranged a date for him at a nice restaurant and everything. I told him, 'Orochimaru, for once in your life, do something other than study your scrolls. Go out, meet a girl, live a little.'"

"And what did he say?" Shizune asked. Beside her, Tsunade stared absently at the table, tracing the rim of her glass with a fingertip.

"He agreed. Bet you didn't expect that, huh?" Jiraiya grinned, satisfied. "Of course, later I found out he only went so he could ask her about the Yamanaka's jutsu. When I saw her again, she nearly killed me!"

They all laughed. A small smile appeared on Tsunade's lips.

"That idiot," she said. "Always with his research, his scrolls, his jutsu. He never talked about anything else. Did you know I once took him to a casino?"

"No way," Jiraiya chuckled.

"I didn't know that," Shizune said. "I bet he was better at it than you."

"You don't exactly need to be a genius to be better at gambling than Tsunade," Jiraiya laughed. "Even her grandfather won once in a while."

Jiraiya picked up the sake bottle and refilled everyone's cups. I noticed that the fourth cup, the one they had filled at the beginning, still sat untouched at the side of the table.

"For Hashirama Senju, First Hokage and God of Gambling," he said solemnly, raising his cup. The others did the same.

"Cheers," said Shizune.

"For Grandpa," Tsunade murmured.

They drank.

I reached out, snatched the last piece of fried chicken, and popped it into my mouth before anyone could stop me.

"And what happened at the casino?" I asked, chewing.

"Don't talk with your mouth full," Tsunade said—while chewing on a piece of meat herself. She swallowed and washed it down with sake. "So, when we got there, I challenged him to see who could make more money. 'Tsunade…'"—she imitated Orochimaru's voice, slow and raspy like a slithering snake—"'you shouldn't pick fights you can't win…' The bastard knew how bad I was at gambling."

"Well, to be fair, what were you thinking?" Jiraiya was listening with his cheek resting on his hand.

"How much did you lose?" Shizune cut in.

A smug grin spread across Tsunade's face. She grabbed a piece of meat with her chopsticks and pointed them at Jiraiya.

"Not a single coin. That day, I won a ton of money… and he didn't" Tsunade winked and popped the meat into her mouth. "Turns out he was even worse than me!"

"Don't talk with your mouth full," I said. She rolled her eyes.

Jiraiya poured another round of sake. I noticed his cheeks were flushed. Must've been the alcohol.

The conversation carried on. The Sannin reminisced about the past, and most of their stories involved Orochimaru. If you paid close enough attention, you could see that beneath Jiraiya and Tsunade's laughter—hidden behind the sake—was a deep sadness. That night must have meant something to them. So, I decided to push aside my own worries—the conversation with my shadow clone still lingered in my mind—for another time.

"So we snuck into the daimyō's house, and the guy had a terrarium full of snakes in his room," Jiraiya was saying. "And I told him, 'Hey, Orochimaru, why don't you ask one of them out?'" More laughter. Then, mimicking his old teammate's voice: "'Jiraiya, focus on the mission.' He never had a sense of humor."

"Or maybe your jokes just aren't that funny," Tsunade shot back.

Jiraiya widened his eyes dramatically, pretending to be wounded.

"You break my heart."

I remembered the clone and clenched my fists tightly under the table.

"You're awfully quiet, Naruto," Shizune noted.

"I overdid it with the spice," I lied.

"She was pretty popular at the Academy," Jiraiya was saying. "And by popular, I mean she had a new admirer every week."

Tsunade looked pleased with herself.

Until Jiraiya added:

"Then she started beating them up, and they stopped showing up."

"You bastard!"

She moved to hit him, but she had drunk too much. Her hand slowly fell toward Jiraiya, who caught it in his own.

"She rejected me right away. But I kept trying." He smiled warmly.

She lifted her gaze to look at him.

"Idiot," she said, pulling her hand away.

"Orochimaru, on the other hand, was too busy being weird. Even back at the Academy. All he did was get perfect scores and make people nervous," Jiraiya said, taking a sip of sake. "But back then, he wasn't such a bad friend."

"No," Tsunade agreed. "He really wasn't."

A silence settled over the table. It was uncomfortable.

"I always thought you two would make a good couple," Shizune blurted out suddenly, throwing me a quick glance and winking.

"I already thought they were one," I added.

Shizune was good at these things. It was like dropping an explosive right in the middle of the table.

"Naruto, you don't talk about those things!" Jiraiya smacked me on the back of the head. The alcohol made him hit harder than necessary. The blow nearly sent me face-first into the table.

"Ow! That hurt!"

Meanwhile, Tsunade kept repeating:

"Me? With him? With him?"

I pointed a finger at her.

"You're turning red."

The next thing I knew, she had grabbed me by the front of my yukata and was lifting me off the ground. Tsunade had one foot on the table, her face very close to mine.

"Say that again, brat, and I'll snap you in half!" But despite her words, there was no real aggression in her voice.

Luckily, a waiter arrived, and Tsunade let me go. Jiraiya and she avoided looking at each other for a while, but soon, the conversation picked up again. Shizune stretched out her hand toward mine.

I high-fived her.

Dinner lasted until the restaurant closed. We left the table covered in plates and empty sake bottles. That was the night I finally understood how much a person could drink when they wanted to forget something. Drunk and exhausted, Jiraiya and Tsunade leaned on each other as they stumbled out of the restaurant. Shizune and I followed closely behind.

"I'm not sure they'll make it back in one piece," I joked.

She placed a hand on my back.

"Good thing the inn is close by," she said with a gentle smile. "Besides, they needed this. Come on, it's getting late."

Shizune walked toward the door, and I was about to follow her. But something stopped me.

That feeling—like someone was staring at the back of my neck. Even if I couldn't see them, I knew they were there.

I turned toward our table.

The shadow clone was sitting there, holding the fourth cup of sake—the one that had remained untouched all night.

My breathing turned fast and heavy. Cold sweat dripped slowly down my back.

My double raised his cup in a silent toast—then drank.

Chapter Text

The room Jiraiya and I shared overlooked a small inner garden. The place was surrounded by a U-shaped wooden walkway, where the doors to the other rooms were located. There were nine in total, all of them closed and dark. I glanced at my master, who was fast asleep on his futon, and stepped outside.

It was a clear night. The moon and stars shone brightly over the garden, bathing it in silvery light. A cold breeze rustled the leaves with a soothing whisper.

None of it brought me any comfort.

I was certain that something was happening inside me. I had the sensation of something burning in my chest, right where Kabuto's wound had left a scar. I touched it with my fingers. It was so hot it almost burned.

Leaning my back against the door, I slid down to sit on the floor.

"Damn it, it hurts..."

It did. The burning was intensifying, as if a flame had nested within my chest. My heartbeat grew stronger with each passing second, as though the very act of beating stoked the fire. I bit my lip and squeezed my eyes shut, trying to endure it.

"You don't have to fight it—just let it happen."

Of course, it was him.

An intense and unpleasant sensation spread through my entire body. It urged me to flee, to fight, both at the same time. It felt as if something were pulling me in two directions with unbearable force.

I had to take a deep breath to steady myself.

I opened my eyes and saw him.

The shadow clone was sitting next to me, his back against the door, knees bent, hands resting on them.

The moonlight reflected off his face, and he gazed at it in return.

"It's a nice place. We could stay for a while."

An owl had perched on one of the garden trees to rest. Its yellow eyes studied us intently from the branches. But when the shadow clone turned his attention to it, the bird took flight, disappearing somewhere into the night.

The sensation in my chest had eased. I touched the wound, trying to catch my breath.

"Damn you… What did you do to me?"

"You're changing, kid. It was about time."

"You won't… get away with this."

The clone let out a humorless chuckle.

"You're the one who's changing."

"And I know who you are."

Discreetly, I tried to dispel the clone. Just like last time, it didn't work. He didn't seem particularly impressed by what I had said, remaining silent, his gaze fixed on the sky.

"You've taken control of my clones somehow," I said, "but if you think you can scare me, you're sorely mistaken, Kyubi."

Hearing his name pulled him from his reverie. The clone turned his face toward me and met my gaze. As he did, his eyes changed—the pupils became slit-like, and his blue irises turned red, glowing in the garden's dim light.

Kyubi tilted his head.

"Your voice is shaking," he said with a smirk. Then he leaned in and ran his fingers through my hair. "I know you fear me. That's unnecessary—we have a deal."

I smacked his hand away, and he looked at me, amused.

"Besides," he added, "what you call your clones are nothing more than chakra. Don't go thinking you're special for knowing such a basic technique."

He stood up and walked toward the garden, his hands concealed by the wide sleeves of his yukata.

"You said we made a deal," I shot back. "Liar. I would never make a deal with you!"

Suddenly, he turned around. The moonlight cascaded over him like liquid silver, illuminating his hair and skin. But it was his eyes that shone the brightest.

"Oh, but we did."

A gust of wind stirred the sleeves of his yukata. Kyubi paused before continuing:

"I'm going to take care of you," he said. "That's the deal. Of course, there are a few more details—minor things, really. The important thing is that you won't be alone anymore. Because no matter where you go, no matter what you do, no matter who you face—I will be there, with you. Isn't that wonderful? All my power at your disposal. You have ambition, I know it—I've seen you suffer for it. You don't have to anymore. You and I will accomplish great things. No more chasing after a dream!"

Kyubi spread his arms wide, as if to encompass the entire place, his lips curling into a grin full of sharp fangs.

He raised one arm, pointing at the moon with his index finger. I looked up. The moon hung in the sky like a silver coin.

Then Kyubi closed his hand around it, concealing it within his fist.

"From now on, if you want something, all you have to do is take it."

Chapter Text

Returning to Konoha took us two days.

Shizune helped me drag Jiraiya out of the futon. Both he and Tsunade were hungover, which made them unbearable for the rest of the day. Even so, we managed to leave early and set off on the path leading out of the small village. It was a quiet journey, with barely anyone crossing our way. We spent the night in a remote village and woke up early again. By then, the effects of the alcohol had worn off, and the Sannin joined Shizune and me in conversation.

The previous day, I had been asking her about medical ninjutsu. I described the technique Kabuto had used against me—the chakra scalpel—and she explained it to me in detail. I understood about half of it. Fortunately, Shizune was very patient and answered my questions as best she could.

"You're not thinking of becoming a medical ninja, are you?" she eventually asked me. I shook my head.

"I'm just curious."

It was the truth. While I had no intention of becoming a medic, their great skill in chakra control and manipulation intrigued me. I wondered if I could do something similar and assumed I probably couldn't.

"I thought I might control my Rasengan better," I admitted. "If I improve my chakra control. Jiraiya can create it with one hand; I still need shadow clones."

I didn't tell her that part of the reason was that summoning clones now disgusted me.

Shizune patted my shoulder. "That's because Jiraiya-san is a ninja with far more experience. The fact that you can use the Rasengan, even with help, is already a great achievement."

She was a good woman. I liked her.

"Hey!" Jiraiya, who was walking behind us with Tsunade, caught up to us. "Don't praise him too much, or he'll get used to it! He still has a lot of work to do. In fact…" He reached into his kimono and pulled out one of the rubber balls I had used in training. "Let's resume your training."

"Old man, we've already done this."

Jiraiya raised his eyebrows and tossed the ball to me gently. I caught it.

"You think you're done? Your Rasengan is still at a beginner's level. Watch." He formed the technique in his palm, the sphere spinning at high speed. "This is how it's done. No clones. No screaming like an idiot. See? I make it look easy. Get on my level. And until you do," he said, making the technique disappear, "you have a lot more balls to burst."

"You're the one bursting mine…!" I grumbled, earning a flick to the forehead.

"Idiot. And by the way, this time, do it with one hand."

It took me hours to manage it. Midway, we stopped in a village to buy a sack of rubber balls—Jiraiya had a knack for knowing where to find them—and continued walking until we reached Konoha.

By the time we arrived, I had only managed to burst three.

Konoha's walls stood tall and familiar before us. Standing in front of them, my gaze lifted upward, I felt both relieved and nervous. It was good to be home. But now that I had returned, everything I had left unresolved came rushing back all at once.

Inside was Sasuke, hospitalized after his encounter with his brother. Had he woken up already? According to the medics, the psychological damage had been severe. Sasuke wasn't just my teammate; he was the closest thing I had to a best friend. We couldn't stand each other most of the time, but I trusted him. I really did.

Though, ever since what happened in the Forest of Death—when Orochimaru marked him with the Cursed Seal—Sasuke hadn't been the same. I wondered how he would react now that the Sannin was dead and whether his mark would finally disappear.

We entered the village through the main gate. The guards greeted Jiraiya enthusiastically and whispered among themselves upon seeing Tsunade. One of them gave me a thumbs-up, and I waved back absentmindedly.

It wasn't just Sasuke I was thinking about—it was also Rock Lee. His fight against Gaara had shattered his leg, and his future as a ninja was, at best, uncertain. On the way, we had discussed it with Tsunade, who refused to give any answers until she could examine Lee herself.

"I'll do what I can, but no promises."

I wondered what I would do if I couldn't be a ninja, but I couldn't even picture myself that way. Being a ninja was nearly my entire identity, and I was sure it was the same for Lee. His situation must have been terrible, and I secretly felt relieved not to have to face it myself.

It was almost night when we entered the village. The streets were mostly empty, save for a few bars and the occasional lit window. The outskirts had always been my favorite part of Konoha—it was the only place in the village where the world left you alone. Away from the hustle and bustle of the center, one could take a moment to breathe. In a life like ours, that was more than necessary.

No wonder Tsunade preferred a nomadic life.

It took us a few minutes to reach my home. I lived in one of the many neighborhoods in the village, in an area full of apartment buildings and a few scattered shops. The streets there were narrow and poorly lit, not due to a lack of streetlights but because most of them didn't work. Swarms of cables hung above our heads wherever we passed, held together by tall wooden poles where birds rested. This time, we saw many crows—large and black, as if they were made of ink. One perched on a bench just outside my building. It watched us for a while before taking flight.

"See you tomorrow," Jiraiya said, handing me the bag of rubber balls. "Don't forget to train."

"Yeah, yeah, old man."

I inserted the key into the door and entered. The stairs up to my apartment were so narrow that my shoulders nearly brushed against the wall, which badly needed a fresh coat of paint. My door wasn't in much better shape. The wood was old and looked worn out. The only thing remotely decent was the small plaque beneath the peephole, where the name "Uzumaki" was inscribed.

I stepped inside.

My apartment was small, with a living room that doubled as a kitchen, a bathroom, and a bedroom in the back. The counter was cluttered with instant ramen containers, and the sink was overflowing with dishes. I frowned. I didn't remember leaving such a mess when I left. I dropped the bag on the couch and started throwing the containers into the trash bin nearby.

"You have a visitor, brat."

Kyubi was referring to himself. He sat on the couch with his legs crossed. He let his gaze wander around the room and raised an eyebrow.

"Living in such filth takes a certain level of dedication," he mocked. "Congratulations."

"Leave me alone, fox."

Something flew toward my face. I managed to catch it at the last second. It was one of Jiraiya's rubber balls.

"Burst it," Kyubi said.

"Look, I'm not in the mood, and I'm not going to do what you say."

"Oh, what will I do…" he mocked.

I flinched. The voice came from behind me. I looked up and saw the couch was empty—Kyubi had appeared behind me in an instant.

Slowly, he placed his hand beneath mine. The ball, thick and black, sat in my palm. It wasn't much bigger than my fist, but it was heavy.

"Do it," he repeated. His tone was gentle and smooth, but there was something about it that deeply unsettled me. I decided to comply.

I gathered my chakra in the palm of my hand, as I had done so many times before. The ball began to shake from within. As my chakra increased its pressure, the rubber trembled more violently. Making it explode required applying pressure in all directions at once; otherwise, I would only manage to puncture it. It was harder than it seemed. Without a clone's help, I had to put in much more effort than necessary, and even then, most of the time, I failed.

The ball was already starting to lose its movement. My chakra was weakening.

"Not like that."

Kyubi pressed his palm against the back of my hand. That's when I felt it. His chakra. It flooded into me in waves like a tsunami. Suddenly, I was filled with power—so much that as soon as I concentrated my chakra, the ball exploded instantly.

Bang. The sound echoed through the room, and a gust of wind shook the place. A painting on the wall tilted. A thin layer of dust fell from the ceiling.

In the distance, I heard the neighbors shouting.

"What the hell was that?!"

"Hey!" a man yelled. "Some of us have to get up early!"

I heard barking and footsteps outside my door. People were talking amongst themselves. Before long, someone knocked, and when I didn't answer, they started ringing the doorbell violently.

"I know you're in there! Come out so I can wring your ears!"

I clicked my tongue. The last thing I wanted was to argue with the neighbors, who were a particularly picky bunch. They didn't like me, and I didn't like them. It had always been that way, and it always would be until the end of time.

I moved to open the door, but Kyubi beat me to it.

"What?"

On the other side stood a man in his forties, graying but still in shape. A grumpy type who smoked like a freight train and always seemed to have some amount of alcohol in his bloodstream. It wasn't the first time he had knocked on my door—or someone else's—just to cause a scene.

This time, he should've stayed home.

"Watch your manners, brat! Do you have any idea what time it is?" Behind him, a woman I recognized as his wife nodded at everything he said. "Some of us work, you know! But of course, what would you know about work? You, who does nothing but… but… what the hell happened to your face?"

"For Buddha's sake, look at his eyes," the woman said.

"That's what I've been saying," interjected an older voice from somewhere I couldn't see. "That boy is cursed."

Hearing that sent me over the edge. I stepped forward, pushed Kyubi aside, and pointed a finger at them, shouting:

"It was an accident, alright?! And if you don't like it, you can get lost!"

"My God."

The woman looked at me in horror, and her husband took a step back, nearly stumbling into her.

"There are two of him," he murmured, but his surprise quickly turned back to anger. "Multiplying like a damn rat, huh? Just like the old man says! I swear, this village will never know peace as long as you keep causing trouble!"

"No, darling, don't provoke him…"

At the other door, the old man was murmuring a sutra under his breath. I was getting angrier by the second. The last thing I wanted was to deal with this ridiculous situation.

"Listen…" I started, trying to keep my temper in check. But the guy cut me off.

"If I hear you making noise at night again, I'll teach you a lesson you won't forget—"

He was going to say more, but he never got the chance. Kyubi stepped toward him and grabbed him by the neck with one hand. His fingers were like a vice. The man immediately turned red, and his wife started screaming for help. The old man slammed his door shut, shouting something about a demon.

"Help! Help! Murderer!" the woman wailed. Until she couldn't.

Kyubi released a surge of chakra so intense that it took her breath away. It took mine too. The pressure was immense. It felt like we all had a hand gripping our throats. Slowly, the man collapsed to his knees before the shadow clone.

And then, the pressure vanished. Kyubi let go of his neck, smiled, and pinched the man's cheek between his fingers.

"We'll be more careful from now on," he said pleasantly. "Don't worry."

We went back inside my apartment, leaving the couple in the hallway. I peeked through the peephole. The man was hyperventilating while his wife struggled to help him up, to no avail.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" I snapped at Kyubi. "You almost killed him!"

"Don't be ridiculous, kid. If I had wanted to kill him, I would've done it," he replied, crossing his arms. "Humans break quite easily."

"Now the neighbors will hate me!"

"They already did." Kyubi walked over to the fridge, opened it, shook his head, and closed it again. "Eventually, you'll understand that people's hatred doesn't depend so much on what you do as on their willingness to hate you."

Kyubi sat on the couch and tossed another ball at me.

"Try again."

"Go to hell," I said, dodging it.

The next ball hit me square in the stomach, making me double over. He had thrown it with a lot of force. I cursed and grabbed it, ready to throw it back, but then I hesitated.

"Well?" he asked, smirking.

"I thought about throwing the ball at you," I said, "but you'd just go chasing after it."

A red gleam flickered in his eyes, and for a second, I thought I had gone too far. But it lasted only a moment. Kyubi leaned back on the couch and crossed his legs.

"Try," he repeated.

I understood that he wouldn't stop insisting until I did. I was tired, and I didn't feel like arguing anymore. I grabbed the ball, placed it on my palm, and gathered chakra.

Immediately, the rubber began to swell.

"Slow down," Kyubi said. "Or you'll make the same mistake again. Not like that, Naruto. You need to relax."

"Hard to do when you won't shut up."

He ignored me.

"Your problem is that you see something simple as a great effort. Chakra is as much a part of you as your hands and legs. The ability to shape it is already within you," he said, yawning. "The thing is, ninjas love to make simple things overly complicated."

"What do you know about us?"

"You've spent centuries trying to use me, kid. I know more about you than I'd like. Focus."

I tried. I inhaled and gathered my chakra in my hand, trying to relax as he had said. I couldn't. I kept thinking about the neighbors. What would they tell people? If they already thought I was a monster, now…

"Naruto," he said. "Look at me."

I did—and flinched. He was close again, so close I saw my reflection in his crimson eyes. Kyubi placed his hands over mine, and the ball started to shake. Then he pressed down.

A whirlwind of red chakra erupted from the ball, shredding it instantly. A perfect sphere appeared in my hand, spinning in absolute silence.

"Now tell me, what is this?"

"A Rasengan," I said. He shook his head.

"That's just the name of a technique. Try again."

I watched the sphere spin. The energy within it sent flashes of light across the room.

"Chakra," I murmured. "It's chakra."

"Partly," he nodded. "But more than that, it's something else. What you have in your hand is power. And power, Naruto, is how we make our will a reality. You see, without it…"

He withdrew his hands, and the Rasengan vanished in a gust of wind.

"Things simply aren't possible."

I stared at my hands while Kyubi walked over to the bag of rubber balls. He tossed me one, and I caught it in midair.

"Now," he said, "try again."

I took a deep breath, fixed my gaze on the rubber ball, and gathered my strength.

It began to shake more and more violently.

And then, a red flash.

Chapter Text

The room was white. The sheets, the curtains, the furniture, and the chairs were all white. The whole scene gave off a feeling of being in another world, which probably wasn't the best thing, considering we were in a hospital.

Sasuke was dressed in black.

It was a clear morning, and sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting shadows on the bed where he sat, the sheets pulled up to his knees, an absent expression on his face.

"Hey, Sasuke."

He didn't respond to my greeting. He just glanced at me and then turned back to stare out the window.

"You could at least pretend you're happy to see me, moron."

"You didn't have to come."

"I go wherever I want. When are they discharging you?"

"Naruto, I'm not in the mood."

"You're never in the mood," I said, sitting on the edge of the bed. Sasuke kept looking out the window; I gave his leg a light smack, startling him. "Hey, you could at least look at me when I'm talking to you."

He shot me a disdainful glance.

"There. Happy now?"

"Ecstatic."

Sasuke looked me up and down, raising his eyebrows as he noticed the black yukata Jiraiya had given me at the onsen, which I was still wearing.

"I didn't know you were attending a funeral," he said.

"It was just in case you'd kicked the bucket."

A shadow of a smile appeared on his lips but faded before it fully formed. Sasuke shifted under the sheets, restless, and for a moment, it seemed like he was about to say something—but then someone opened the door.

A girl peeked in through the crack. I recognized Sakura's pink hair instantly. I would have recognized it anywhere.

"Can I come in?" she asked, then noticed me. "Oh, Naruto! You're back!"

When she smiled, her green eyes narrowed in a way I liked. But this time, they seemed duller, as if the shine I was used to wasn't entirely there.

I figured she was just tired.

Sakura closed the door and swapped out the flowers in the vase on the bedside table while asking us how we were doing. I told her I was fine, and Sasuke responded by looking out the window again.

"The nurses said you're doing much better. You'll be discharged in a few days," Sakura said, sitting in the guest chair beside the nightstand. 

Silence.

"Isn't that great, Sasuke-kun?"

Though he tried to maintain an air of complete indifference—and to some extent, he succeeded—I knew he was dying to get out of there.

Eventually, Sakura gave up and, with a sigh, turned to me.

"So, how was the trip?"

"We had some complications, but we found Tsunade, and now she's the Hokage."

She blinked. Even Sasuke discreetly glanced at me, trying to pretend he wasn't.

"The Fifth, huh?" he murmured.

Sakura looked delighted at the news.

"Tsunade… I've read a lot about her. She's an extraordinary kunoichi—no less than the best medical ninja in the world! I admire her so much. Tell me, what's she like in person?"

I took a second to think.

"She's someone we can trust," I finally said. "And by the way, don't get your hopes up, but she's going to look into Lee's case."

"Really?" she asked, excited.

"Don't tell anyone, though."

She nodded, looking pleased. Since the exams, her opinion of Rock Lee had improved a lot, and now she seemed to genuinely care about him. That was normal. Lee was a peculiar guy, but he had a way of making people like him.

"You mentioned complications," Sasuke interjected.

I nodded.

"We ran into Orochimaru. Had to fight," I said.

Sakura flinched.

Surprising Sasuke wasn't easy, but I managed. For the first time since I had entered, I had his full attention. Understandable, considering what he had suffered at that man's hands.

Both of them were staring at me, waiting. I noticed Sasuke's fingers digging into the sheets, gripping them tightly. I didn't need to hear it to imagine how fast his heart was beating. I held his gaze.

"You'll be glad to know he's dead."

Silence dropped over the room like a blade—dense, oppressive. Sasuke stared at me in disbelief; Sakura covered her mouth with a hand, then stood up and stepped closer.

"What are you saying…?" she whispered.

No one spoke.

I made myself comfortable on the bed, letting them process the news before continuing.

"Naruto," Sasuke said, "explain."

He had gone pale.

"Orochimaru went after Tsunade," I said. "He wanted her to heal his arms. The old man had left them useless, like a dead man's. Tsunade said no, and we fought."

They listened in silence. I went on.

"They started fighting each other. I fought Kabuto. I almost killed him, and he almost killed me, too," I swallowed, feeling something dark and hot stir inside me, "but I got back up, and I would've torn him apart if it weren't for the snake."

My chakra stirred the air, ruffling Sasuke's sheets. I had to stop and take a deep breath.

"And Orochimaru…?" Sakura started.

"Jiraiya burned him alive. Both of them. You should've seen it—it was…"

The scene replayed in my mind. I was looking at Sakura, but I wasn't seeing her—I was seeing Manda's mouth bursting into flames.

"It was wonderful," I finished.

I wasn't aware of what I had said—or of the twisted smile on my lips—until I saw how they were looking at me. They did so in silence, with a mix of intrigue and unease, like someone who had just found an insect too large in their kitchen. I coughed, suddenly feeling out of breath.

The scar on my chest burned again, sharp and fierce.

I touched it with my fingers. It felt like sticking them into fire.

"So, that's what happened."

A long moment passed before either of them spoke. Sakura leaned on the nightstand, nearly knocking the vase over, but she caught it in time. Absentmindedly, she set it back in place; the sound of glass scraping against wood echoed through the quiet room.

Sasuke lowered his gaze, staring at the sheets with a deep frown.

"Impossible…" he muttered, a bead of sweat running down his temple. "And now, how am I supposed to…?"

I didn't understand what he meant. I thought the news would be a relief, but Sasuke seemed… troubled. Why?

There was a storm raging inside my friend, and I didn't see it.

"I can't believe he's dead. At least the Third can finally rest in peace," Sakura said, her voice trembling. 

A tremor shook the bed. Sasuke's chakra surged, making the curtains beside him rattle violently.

"So that means…" he muttered, his gaze unfocused. "Damn it…!"

"It means you're free," I cut in. "Orochimaru can't chase you anymore. And he can't hurt the village either."

He touched his neck, where the Curse Mark was.

"That guy was insane. He tried to bite me too, just like he did to you. If I hadn't stopped him, who knows if I'd have one of those," I said.

A laugh echoed in my mind.

"Right where it hurts!" Kyubi chuckled.

"Shut up. That wasn't my intention."

"Sure it wasn't."

Silence again.

More silence. The only movement in the room was the curtains billowing in the wind. Down in the street, some kids started playing with a leather ball, and soon after, they ran off, laughing cheerfully. Somewhere, muffled, a machine beeped.

"Even so, Kabuto..." Sakura said, "I really thought he was a good guy. When we talked during the exam... I never imagined he'd be working for someone like Orochimaru."

"Some people are really good at pretending," I said. "That guy was a lunatic. And a jonin-level medical ninja. Even Tsunade said so."

"And you defeated him?" There was a hint of disbelief in Sakura's voice that irritated me a little.

"With my new technique, yeah."

I skipped the part where Kabuto got back up to stab me in the back.

"Wow," she said. "You've really gotten strong, Naruto-kun."

She looked surprised.

Sasuke, on the other hand, shot me a glare.

"So, a new technique," he said, serious.

"I'll show you when you get out of here."

"And why not now?"

There was a challenge in his words. Sasuke seemed irritated, and his chakra was rising again, cold like the night breeze.

"Because you're in no shape to fight, and I'd wipe the floor with you. Besides, what's bothering you so much? I thought you'd be glad to hear the news. I'd be glad—actually, I am. The world's a better place without Orochimaru in it."

"Guys..." Sakura started, but neither of us paid her any attention.

Sasuke sat up in his bed, a mocking smile on his face.

"You think you're stronger than you really are, but you're still the same cowardly Naruto."

"He's provoking you. Punch him!," Kyubi growled.

"Shut up!"

I could feel my chakra building up inside me again. I had to make a conscious effort to suppress it. I stood up.

"Look, Sasuke, I don't know what your problem is, and I don't care. I'm leaving. Tomorrow, when you're done sulking, we'll talk again—we need to figure out what to do about that seal. Maybe Jiraiya can help you."

Sasuke tried to speak, but I cut him off.

"Quit the bullshit and shut up!"

I felt a twitch in my eyelid. I inhaled.

"Hit him. Break his nose."

I exhaled slowly.

"It's over, Sasuke. Goodbye."

I didn't expect him to leap to his feet. Or to close the distance between us so fast. Or to grab my yukata with his right fist and pull me in so hard our foreheads slammed together.

"You don't get to decide when it's over!"

A two-tomoe Sharingan spun, red, in both his eyes.

Sakura tried to get between us.

"You idiots! Stop it already! This isn't the place!"

She tried to pull us apart, tugging at our arms. Sakura was way stronger than she looked, but at that moment, she wouldn't have been able to separate us even with boiling water.

Sasuke's face got even closer to mine.

"So, you've gotten strong, huh?" he said.

"Sasuke... if you keep this up, I'm going to hurt you."

He laughed. There was no humor in it.

"I'd love to see you try, idiot. Let's go outside and fight."

At that moment, something clicked inside me, and the chakra I had been trying to suppress spilled out uncontrollably. Sasuke noticed immediately. When his hands made contact with my chest, near my scar, he felt the heat radiating from it. He glanced down at it, then back up at me.

He wasn't expecting my eyes to have turned red like his.

I felt him tense, like an electric shock had run through him.

I raised my hand and grabbed the black shirt he was wearing.

"If you say so. Let's go outside," I said with a sharp smile.

Before he could react, I shoved him away.

Sasuke flew backward, crashing through the open window.

Outside, the sun bathed the village.

I jumped after him.

Chapter Text

We fell down the side of the building. The speed blurred the village around us. Everything vanished—the colorful rooftops, the laundry flapping in the wind, the black cables sagging across the streets like sleeping snakes, the crows picking at trash, the mountain with the carved faces... it was all gone. Only Sasuke and I remained, plummeting.

I reached him sooner than I expected. I had gotten fast. So had he—but not fast enough. He reacted too late, and before he could stop me, my right hand closed around his face. I squeezed. It felt good.

Between my fingers, his right eye locked onto mine. Fury burned in his gaze and in his fists. Sasuke struggled, but without weapons or time for a technique, he was down to bare hands. And they weren’t enough.

Seconds later, we slammed into a nearby rooftop. The crash echoed across the neighborhood. Sasuke landed on his back, and I on top of him, still gripping his face. I had smashed it into the tiles with all my strength, shattering them in a circle around us, sending the laundry whipping in the wind.

"Is this what you wanted, Sasuke?"

He didn’t answer. His sharingan spun under my fingers—two black tomoe over crimson. They didn’t just glow. They burned.

Of course it wasn’t going to be that easy.

"Behind you," Kyubi warned.

"I know."

A puff of white smoke exploded in my hand. Sasuke had replaced himself with a log. I crushed it with my fingers as he came at me from behind.

I didn’t need to turn to block the kick aimed at my neck. I caught it on my forearm and ducked beneath another, even stronger. He’d jumped to gain momentum. He was fast. So was I.

Before he landed, I grabbed his ankle—I grinned, he cursed—and slammed him down like a hammer. More broken tiles. Sasuke spat blood but jumped back to his feet, eyes wide.

His punch flew past my cheek. I leaned aside to dodge it.

"Nice try, but—"

I didn’t get to finish. He drove his knee into my gut, knocking the air out of me. Then he hooked his arms around my neck and kneed me again. I grunted in pain.

The taste of blood in my mouth set something off inside me. I saw red.

Kyubi’s voice slid into my ear. "Tear him apart. Break him."

I lifted my face. Sasuke was the one smiling now.

"Hey, Naruto," he sneered, "grit your teeth."

He yanked me downward and smashed his knee into my mouth.

Blood spilled from my lips. He wasn’t done. He pulled my head up and did it again.

"Break him, kid," Kurama growled.

I caught the knee in my palm. And then I dug in my fingers. Tore through cloth. Pierced his skin.

The scar on my chest burned like fire. Chakra surged from me—thick, red, and pulsing. Sasuke jumped back instantly.

Fear flickered in his eyes. Then horror.

"What the hell is… that?"

Whether it was instinct or sharingan reflex, he leapt just in time. Where his chest had been, a red Rasengan spun in my hand—dense, angry, wild.

Sasuke turned pale. He panted, forehead shining with sweat. The sheets behind him fluttered like ghosts.

I let the Rasengan fade and wiped the blood from my chin.

"What are you waiting for? Make him pay," Kyubi whispered.

"Shut up already."

A crow cawed in the distance. Time stalled. Sasuke studied me. I fought to keep control.

Kurama wanted to push me. But I already wanted to hurt him.

I’d felt the fox’s influence before. But this rage—it felt like mine.

I took a deep breath. Exhaled.

"Hey, Sasuke."

He raised his guard. I stepped forward. He stepped back.

"Grit your teeth," I said.

My fist drove into his stomach. Lifted him off the ground. His eyes rolled back white. He flew through rows of clotheslines and crashed into the far wall, buried in a shroud of linens.

"You held back," Kyubi noted.

"Mind your own business."

I walked toward him. Bits of stone trickled down from the wall above his head.

"I’d say we’re even. Let’s stop here. This’ll get ugly."

I meant it. The punch had calmed me a little, but my scar still throbbed. For a second, I pictured slamming his head against the wall, cracking it open like a watermelon.

"That’d be fun. Do it!"

I shook the thought away.

"Come on. Get up. I didn’t hit you that hard."

He didn’t answer. Maybe he was out cold. Or maybe just stalling.

When I reached out to pull the sheets off, he did too—but his fist slammed into my face.

It wasn’t strong, but it pushed me back. Anger shot through me like lightning. The scar pulsed hard.

"Know what else would be fun?" Kyubi said, as Sasuke tore the sheets off and tossed them at me. "Rip those cursed eyes out of his skull."

The sheets tangled around me. I tried to tear free.

Too late.

"Fire Release: Phoenix Sage Fire Technique!"

Flames engulfed the fabric. The rooftop blazed. I was trapped in the middle.

Heat slammed into me. The fire danced in my eyes.

For a moment, I thought I’d burn to ash.

Then I snapped.

"Get out there and rip his heart out!"

Chakra poured through me. I let it go. A burst of wind scattered the flames.

"That’s it. Don’t fight it. It’s who you are."

I stepped from the fire, untouched, wrapped in a cloak of red chakra. The flames licked at me but did no harm.

I advanced. Sasuke stood on the opposite ledge, curse mark spreading over his body. The black markings pulsed, alive with dark energy.

He panted but held his stance. Ready.

I was too.

I clenched my fists. He gathered chakra.

Then a voice split the heat.

"What the hell do you think you’re doing?!"

Sakura.

She landed between us with a thud, kunai drawn. Pale. Furious.

"Have you two lost your minds?!"

She looked at us both. At the red chakra. At Sasuke’s curse mark. Her mouth tightened. She swallowed.

Then she raised the kunai.

"I’m not letting you kill each other! That’s enough! We’re a team! Get it together, now!"

Sasuke sneered at her.

"Get lost, Sakura."

My chakra made the shards at my feet tremble. The flames swirled around me. I was full of power—and I wanted to use it.

"This isn’t your fight," I said.

Something flashed in her green eyes. She stepped forward and slapped me.

"You don’t get to decide that, you moron! And neither do you!" she shouted at Sasuke.

Blood trickled down my chin. I wiped it with my thumb.

"Hit her back. You know you want to," Kyubi whispered.

My fist clenched on its own.

I inhaled sharply. Pulled back my fist.

Sasuke shouted her name. She flinched to dodge. But neither was fast enough.

Tsunade was.

She appeared out of nowhere and catched my fist, easily.

She wore the white haori of the Hokage. It glowed against her usual green.

"Oh," Kyubi murmured. "Now that’s interesting."

She squeezed my fist. I thought it might shatter.

Sakura stepped back. 

"The Fifth..."

Jiraiya and Kakashi appeared beside Sasuke. He looked at them, and he seemed to calm down.

But I couldn’t.

"Go on," Kyubi said. "Fight her. I want to see this."

There was something strange in his tone. I didn’t understand it.

Tsunade let go of my fist and ruffled my hair.

"Well, Naruto. Didn’t expect you to be this rebellious. Maybe it’s my old teacher’s fault—he was too soft on everyone."

"Hey, let go…"

I tried to pull away. Couldn’t. Her fingers were iron.

"This time I’ll let it go. You and your friend," she said. Then her smile vanished. "But if you pull this crap again in my village, I’ll kick both of you back to the Academy. You got that? You too, Sasuke Uchiha!"

Up above, Jiraiya chuckled and clapped Sasuke on the back. But he didn’t take his eyes off me. Not for a second.

I think that’s when his suspicions really began.

Chapter Text

Shortly after Tsunade put an end to our fight, I was sitting at the Ichiraku Ramen bar with a steaming bowl in front of me. Jiraiya sat on the stool beside me, enjoying a small glass of shōchū under the sunlight pouring down on him.

"Not that I care if you wanna fight your friends," he was saying, "but at least have the common sense to do it where no one can see you. The village is full of training grounds, dammit—no need to set a rooftop on fire."

As he spoke, I slurped my noodles loudly.

"Back in my day, we handled things better. Instead of putting on a show, we'd head out to the outskirts and punch each other until someone gave in. Next day we were back at the Academy like nothing happened. Simpler times."

Jiraiya downed his shōchū in one gulp.

"You kids these days just love the drama. At least Sasuke's got the excuse of being an Uchiha. But you…" He sighed. "I don't know why you even have a head if you're not gonna use it. Hey, Teuchi, gimme another."

"Drinking on the job, huh?" Teuchi replied, filling his glass to the brim. "Some habits die hard, I guess."

"A ninja is always on duty, my friend. And if that meant no drinks ever, I would've hung up my headband ages ago."

Teuchi chuckled softly and put the bottle away.

"So now you're getting into fights, huh?" he said to me. "And here I thought you'd grown a bit more responsible."

"It wasn't that bad," I said.

"'Wasn't that bad,' he says…" Jiraiya set his empty glass on the counter and leaned on it, turning toward me. "Next time, I'll let Tsunade deal with you. See how long your dumb ideas last then."

He paused, then looked over at Teuchi.

"Has he always been like this?" he asked, exasperated.

Teuchi had known me since I was a kid. He was one of the few people who ever offered me a hand instead of turning their back. I liked him, and I like to think the feeling was mutual.

"More or less," he said. "Honestly, I think he used to be worse."

"Hey, old man, that's not fair!" I protested. "I've changed a lot!"

"Yeah, sure. Now you eat even more than before."

He smirked and turned to help another customer. I rolled my eyes and downed the rest of my ramen in one go.

Jiraiya watched me with his cheek resting in his hand.

"He's right—you're a bottomless pit."

"I'm still growing," I joked. "If I don't eat well, I won't get stronger."

"Yeah, well. Speaking of strength…"

A pause. Brief.

"You've been using his chakra."

His voice dropped, catching me off guard. We looked at each other. Sunlight lit up his long white hair and sparkled off the metal plate on his forehead. Despite the serious tone, his expression was gentle.

"Naruto," he said, "I get it. That kind of power is tempting. But it's dangerous too. It's not something you should be using against your friends."

Jiraiya's concern was real. I frowned.

"I didn't mean to hurt them," I said.

"Liar…", Kyubi chuckled.

"But…?"

I opened my mouth, but whatever I was going to say got stuck in my throat. I paused to think. At the far end of the Ichiraku, the young waitress helping Teuchi wiped sweat from her brow with the back of her hand.

I decided to be honest.

"It's just, well… I've been a little on edge since the trip."

"That's understandable. You went through a lot."

"We both did."

He nodded.

"I know how hard it is to control power like that," he said gently. "All I ask is that you be careful."

"I will."

He didn't reply right away—just gave a cough behind his fist and looked away, suddenly awkward. Luckily, Teuchi came over and poured him another drink, which Jiraiya accepted eagerly.

The shōchū vanished down his throat in one gulp.

"I'm heading out to Suna this afternoon," he said, placing the empty glass on the counter and pushing it away with his index finger. "And with how things are looking, I might be gone a while."

"The Sand? Are we going to attack them?"

Images of the invasion flashed through my mind—one after another, like quick-cut frames in a movie.

Jiraiya shook his head.

"We're going to make peace," he corrected. "Or at least, negotiate it. Neither village is in great shape right now, but we've got a Kage, and they don't. It's a good time to lay our cards on the table."

"You mean blackmail them."

"Bingo." He smiled. "Right now, the closest thing they've got to a Kazekage is the son of the last one—Gaara. And you know that kid's not exactly the most stable person around."

I remembered Gaara laughing like a maniac, his face twisted from an incomplete transformation.

I also remembered him slumped on top of Shukaku's head, asleep, while the giant sand beast tore through the forest. Gamabunta had to take the form of the Nine-Tails just to match him.

"A sad imitation", Kyubi growled. "One day I'll devour that damned frog."

"He's a toad."

"Toad, frog—who cares."

Jiraiya dug through his clothes and pulled out two crumpled green bills. He left them by the glass and stood up.

"Time for me to get going," he said. "If Tsunade finds out I'm still here, she'll kill me."

"Hey, old man."

He raised an eyebrow.

"You be careful too," I said.

Suddenly, he burst out laughing.

"Don't worry! A bunch of desert ninjas is nothing to me." He pointed his thumb at himself. "You, on the other hand… I better not hear you've done anything stupid while I'm gone."

"Yeah, well… no promises."

"And keep training! Maybe I'll teach you something when I get back."

"Yeah, yeah, gramps."

Still smiling, Jiraiya gave the counter a pat and turned to leave—but then he stopped and looked at me seriously.

"Naruto…"

I looked up, curious.

"You've become a real ninja."

Inside, I heard Kyubi snort. I ignored him. I stood up, stretching my arms over my head, and gave Jiraiya a smile… which vanished the moment he waved those two bills in front of my face—the same ones he'd left on the counter earlier.

Now he was the one smiling.

"I figured a real ninja could pay for his own meal," he said, then winked and disappeared in a swirl of leaves.

I was left alone at the bar.

Behind me, Teuchi was waiting with the bill.

With a sigh, I reached for my wallet.

It was still lunchtime. Konoha was packed with people strolling around and lining up outside restaurants. The atmosphere felt cheerful. Maybe it was the sunshine, or maybe it was the new Hokage—just her presence seemed to have lifted everyone's spirits.

I wandered through the crowded streets, doing my best not to bump into anyone. It felt a little suffocating. The heat didn't help. People wore summer clothes and acted like it was summer. I saw a few kids eating ice cream, and a guy fanning himself with a paper fan.

Outside one restaurant, a group of old men argued over a table covered in empty beer bottles.

"It's good to have a Senju in charge," said one. "Things always went well with the Senju."

"Hashirama, maybe. But I never liked his brother."

"You fool, the Second was the best damn ninja this village ever produced!"

"What? Tobirama was terrible! Because of him, the Uchiha—!"

"Don't you dare go there!"

I turned a corner and slipped into an alley to get away from the crowd. I could still hear the old men shouting behind me. They'd probably never agree on anything for the rest of their lives. It really was that hard to understand each other. Maybe even impossible.

I crossed into another alley. At the far end, some kids were squatting around something. I crept up without them noticing, and saw they were poking at a dead crow. One of them jabbed it with a wooden skewer while the others laughed and made disgusted faces.

"Do it! Stick it in its eye!"

"Ugh! You're so gross!"

"Hey, wanna see me bite its head off?"

My shadow clone's voice startled them. He'd crouched next to them and now watched them with a fox-like grin and glowing red eyes.

"You guys are gonna love it" he said.

The kids screamed and ran. As I watched them tear out of the alley at full speed, I caught myself holding back a laugh. I didn't understand why.

"Ugh, children," said the clone, standing up. "All they do is cry and ruin everything. Just like you—can't even beat Sasuke."

I crossed my arms.

"You blind or what? I beat the crap out of him."

"'Beat the crap out of him'..." he mocked. "If it had been me, I would've turned him into mush with a single punch."

The clone shook his head, like he couldn't believe what he was hearing, then threw an arm around my shoulders.

"Come with me," he said, smiling.

I tried to shake him off, but his arm was like a trap—unyielding.

He was so close I could feel his chakra against my skin. It was so thick, so heavy, I thought I could touch it with my fingers.

My pulse started to race, and a drop of sweat ran down my spine.

"Fox… where are we going?" I managed to say.

Kyubi pulled me tighter with that arm, and with his free hand, pushed my cheek until our eyes met.

One moment, his gaze brimmed with hunger. The next, he was smiling.

"Come on, don't worry so much," he said. "It's just a walk."

Chapter Text

We went to a small forest on the outskirts of the village. Though it was still daytime, the place was deserted. It was just us—and the crunch of dry leaves beneath our feet.

The shadow clone walked a few paces ahead of me. He hadn't said a word since we left the alley, but every now and then he glanced over his shoulder, and each time he did, my pulse quickened. Kyubi wore my face like a mask. Whatever was hiding underneath unsettled me deeply.

Though, in a way, it intrigued me too.

His crimson eyes brimmed with malice, and his chakra made my skin crawl, but when he spoke to me now, I didn't feel any real hostility. So what had changed?

The first few times I'd encountered the Fox, his thirst for blood had been enough to make me sick…

When Kabuto pierced my heart, something inside me shifted. What exactly, I couldn't say. And my memories of that day were growing distant, like they belonged to someone else.

With a strange tightness in my throat, I followed him through the trees.

As we walked, I started seeing ninja tools embedded in the bark—kunai, shuriken, arrows. Sunlight filtered through the canopy and caught on the steel. The trunks bore deep gashes, torn bark, splinters—like someone had struck them with incredible force.

Eventually, the forest opened up into a circular clearing. A dozen straw targets stood battered, riddled with weapons.

I followed the clone to the center of the clearing. Then he turned to face me, the loose sleeves of his yukata fluttering with the motion. He had the habit of hiding his arms within the fabric, so the sleeves just hung limply at his sides.

"You'll agree I picked a good spot," he said.

"Not exactly the most romantic first date."

I was nervous, and that was the first thing that popped out. He didn't laugh. He tilted his head slightly, eyes locked onto mine.

He didn't blink.

"Don't you remember this place?" he asked.

"Should I?"

He didn't answer right away. Just kept staring, not without a hint of curiosity.

"You were eight," he finally said. "A winter night. You'd run away from the orphanage and bolted through the village. They didn't find you for hours."

"Look, my memory's not that great. I have no idea what you're talking ab—"

"It was the first time you saw me. The first time we talked."

And just like that, a memory came rushing back. One I'd buried so deep it felt foreign.

I saw myself in a snowy forest, staring up at a yellow crescent moon in a sky without clouds or stars. My breath visible in the air. My hands rubbing together. The night growing colder and darker as the hours passed. I had walked until I couldn't anymore. I wanted to go home, but that place didn't exist. I thought of calling for help, but no one would hear me.

I had felt so alone back then.

Then, like a flash: I was slumped against the trunk of a tree. In front of me, the silhouette of a boy holding out his hand.

"Do you remember now?"

I did.

Dazed, I walked over to one of the targets and yanked out a kunai. I tried to see myself in the blade, but it was old and dirty, barely reflective.

I stabbed it back into the straw and left it there.

"So why did you bring me here?" I asked, voice barely a whisper.

"I told you. Just for a walk."

We were a few meters apart, but I could feel his chakra. It was vast and deep, like the ocean. I wondered if I'd ever felt a chakra more overwhelming.

I swallowed hard, remembering what Jiraiya had said: "Just promise me you'll be careful."

"We've had your damn walk," I said. "Now I'm outta here."

I turned to leave—but the second I did, I slammed right into the clone.

I hadn't sensed him move. Not at all.

"We're not done yet," he said, touching my shoulder lightly. "Since we're here, why don't we train a little?"

I couldn't meet his gaze. I backed away a few steps, knowing full well my discomfort amused him.

That's when I realized something. "I'm not food to him. I'm a toy." The thought formed a knot in my throat I couldn't undo.

Kyubi took my silence as a yes.

"Good boy," he said. "There's a lot you haven't learned yet. And a lot you've learned wrong. That's okay. I'll teach you."

"Teach me."

He nodded.

"I can't think of anything a fox could teach me," I said. "And I don't know why you'd even want to. I've heard stories about you—you hate humans. And now you want to train one?"

"You don't trust me. After all the times I've helped you…"

He stepped forward. I stepped back.

"Besides," I added, "I already have a master."

He kept advancing. I kept retreating.

"And yet this 'vile little fox'…"—Kyubi raised his hand, and a crimson Rasengan bloomed in his palm—"is the one who helped you finish your technique."

He closed his fist, and the chakra vanished.

"That's not…"

"When you fought that ninja from the Mist—who helped you? Against Neji Hyuga? Against the Shukaku's host? Who pulled you back from the abyss when Kabuto threw you in? Me!"

I had stopped backing away. He was now inches from me, his eyes burning—not entirely with anger. Something else.

He jabbed a finger into my chest.

"You may have a master, but you're alive because of me."

I raised my head and met his gaze.

"When the world turned its back on you, I was here," he said, pressing harder. "And yet you act like you can't trust me—because that same world told you not to."

I pushed his hand away.

"Say whatever you want, I'm not buying it. What—do you think I'm stupid? I'm a Leaf shinobi, Fox. I know exactly what you are."

I was furious now, too.

"Remember the day you attacked the village?" I shouted. "That's the day I was born! I lost everything! I don't even know who my parents were because of you!"

A shadow crossed his face. The shadow of rage. While I tried to steady my breath—my heart hammering—he looked up at the sky and inhaled deeply. The sunlight hit him full in the face. He closed his eyes.

"Want to know who your parents were?" he said suddenly, lowering his gaze.

I froze. Even my anger stopped cold.

"…What?"

"Your parents, kid. I could tell you."

His voice sounded tired.

"And you know what? I'm not the only one who can. Those humans you trust so much… they've been keeping it from you this whole time."

"You… you're lying!"

"Ask your precious master. He knew your parents well. But he never told you that, did he?"

I had no words.

"Face it," he said. "I'm the only one who's ever told you the truth."

"You killed my parents," I said again.

"And you hate me for that?"

The answer left my lips before I could think.

"Yes."

We stared at each other. This time, I didn't look away. My chakra surged through my body as the rage hit its limit.

I clenched my fists. My jaw locked so tight it ached.

Kyubi sighed, like he already knew what was coming.

"So what are you waiting for? Do it."

With a scream of rage, I lunged. I had never moved that fast before, never hit so hard. My knuckles crashed into his face with brutal force. I felt his nose break under my fist—and the rush of satisfaction that followed was immediate and immense.

I pulled back. A thin line of blood dripped from his nose and across my fingers before breaking.

Kyubi touched the blood with two fingers and looked at it. Then looked at me.

"Oh, so you do know how to throw a punch," he said, shaking off the blood. "That's a relief. You're not hopeless after all."

In response, I threw another punch—this one across his cheek. Blood spilled from his mouth.

"Not bad," he said. "But not enough."

He grabbed my wrist. His grip was like a steel clamp. I tried to pull free, but it didn't budge. Not even a millimeter.

Kyubi turned his face toward me. The cuts and bruises had already healed.

"Muscle won't get you far. You have to use your chakra!"

His voice was almost gentle. Calmly, he slid his free arm out of his yukata and let the robe fall loose around his waist.

"I'll show you how it's done."

He clenched his fist. Chakra whipped around him like a storm. My instincts screamed, but it was too late.

He yanked me in with one arm as the other shot toward my temple. A punch wrapped in crimson—death incarnate.

My heart skipped a beat. I shut my eyes tight.

But the pain never came.

When I opened them, Kyubi stood beside me, chuckling quietly.

"Oh, come on. Don't be so naive. I'm not gonna kill you just like that."

He patted my shoulder.

I slapped his hand away.

"Don't touch me," I growled, raising my guard. "This isn't over."

"Ooh, scary," he laughed. "What a fierce little brat."

"Stop mocking me!"

I charged again. This time, he dodged. My fist swung through empty air, and the next—and the next. He evaded them all effortlessly, always moving at the last second, just when I thought I had him.

"That was close," he teased, ducking under a hook. "Oh! Almost had me!"

A punch grazed his hair. He smiled.

"Remember what I said about your mus—"

Before he could finish, I accelerated. Gathering every ounce of chakra into my right fist, I launched it at his chin with everything I had.

I'd timed it perfectly. He wouldn't be able to dodge.

My fist made contact. "Got you," I thought—until I realized he'd caught it in his palm.

Kyubi let go. A puff of smoke rose from his hand.

"Much better. You broke my hand," he said, flexing his fingers. "Not bad for a first try."

He began opening and closing his fist. Within seconds, it had healed.

"Here's a tip for next time. Don't just gather chakra in your arm—compress it. Wrap it around yourself like armor. That's how that woman, Tsunade, does it."

I remembered her smashing that giant snake with a single punch. Her strength was terrifying. If I could learn that technique… could I do the same?

I pictured myself in her place—fist slamming into the snake, flattening it.

No. I shook the thought away. I couldn't let him get in my head.

"Get ready, Fox. I'm putting you back in your cage."

"I like that spirit, kid. Better a fool than a coward."

"You talk too much!"

I attacked. He batted my punch aside with a flick of his wrist. Stepped back to dodge the second. I kept up the pressure. But nothing worked. Every strike, every kick, met only air. The taijutsu I'd trained for years was useless against him.

It was like fighting Neji all over again. He'd seen every attack coming with his Byakugan. But I'd beaten him in the end.

This time, I knew that wouldn't happen. The gap between us was just too wide.

I had only one move left.

Mid-combo, as Kyubi dodged without breaking a sweat, I let one punch swing close to his face. Then, without warning, I poured all the chakra I had into my palm and shouted:

"Rasengan!"

It was the biggest I'd ever made—about the size of my torso. More than enough to tear someone apart.

His eyes widened. The red glow of my Rasengan lit up the wicked grin spreading across his face.

Then, with the ease of brushing away a cobweb, he slapped my arm aside and dispelled the Rasengan completely.

My heart dropped. Even with that much power, he had stopped it like it was nothing.

"Impossible…!" I gasped, as his right hand lunged for my throat.

He squeezed.

My feet left the ground.

I couldn't breathe. I couldn't move. I fought the rising panic, but I knew I'd black out soon.

"Didn't expect you to pull a trick like that," he hissed. "Clever boy, aren't you?"

I clawed at his hand, tried to strike. Useless. I began focusing my chakra. I didn't have much time left.

"Relax. I'm not angry. It's okay."

I pressed my palm against his elbow and pushed, as if trying to break bone. Of course, it didn't work. That wasn't the goal.

"Don't squirm," he said. "Like I told you—I'm not going to kill you. I'm just educating you."

"Ah… Ra…"

My eyes started rolling back. I didn't have long now.

"I'm sorry, what was that?"

"Eh…Ra…Eh…"

The world faded fast.

Kyubi clicked his tongue, annoyed.

"Naruto, don't try to talk while I'm strangling you. Just wait—"

It was now or never. I focused every ounce of energy I had left into my palm.

"Ra…sen…GAN!"

Half-conscious, there was no way I could control the chakra. Instead of forming a sphere, it exploded in every direction. A storm of red energy swallowed his arm—

—and just like with the training balls, the pressure made it burst.

Chapter Text

I woke up drenched in sweat.

I was sitting on my bed in the dark. A pale silver light poured in through the wide-open window, casting spectral shades on the curtains. It was a warm and silent night, and I was alone in it.

I didn't remember how I got there.

I rubbed my temples with my fingers. My head throbbed like someone had been beating on it with a hammer. On the nightstand sat a half-empty bottle of water. I grabbed it and drank greedily, spilling some down my chin and chest.

The memories of what had happened started coming back.

The chakra gushing out of me… his arm twisting at impossible angles, the crack of a bone, then many others… not a roar of agony, but of fury—from the shadow clone; his pupils dilating an instant before he lunged at me.

I finished the water and tossed the bottle aside.

The sheets clung damply to my bare skin. I pushed them off and looked for my yukata, but it was nowhere to be found. I opened the closet. It was empty, except for an orange jacket and matching pants, and the clothes I'd worn to old Hiruzen's funeral.

Something turned in my gut. I slammed the closet shut.

After a while, I found the yukata under the bed. It was dirty and stained with blood. Dammit, I thought, this is disgusting. I tossed it into the laundry basket, grabbed a pair of pajama pants, put them on, and leaned out the window. I thought the fresh air might help me feel better, but it didn't.

Later that night, I sat in the bathtub while hot water from the shower eased the pain. I tried to remember what had happened after Kyubi attacked me.

It had happened so fast I couldn't react.

I rubbed my face with both hands. The pain was still drilling through my skull.

"Shit…"

Vague images floated in front of my eyes—some clearer, some as foggy as the mirror above the sink.

His arm had regenerated in seconds and was now driving into my stomach like a stake. I thought I might throw up... everything was going dark. I could taste blood, feel the sting of every blow. I tried to resist, but I couldn't.

I let the water pour over me for longer than I could remember. By the time I got out, my skin was shriveled like a prune—but I didn't feel any better.

I stepped up to the mirror and looked at myself.

My reflection stared back through the steam. I reached out and wiped the fog as best I could.

In the glass, a blond boy with crimson eyes appeared. I stared at him for a while, then turned away and left the bathroom. But just before I closed the door, something made me glance back.

And there he was—the boy in the mirror, waving at me.

From the top of the Hokage monument, the entire village stretched out below me, immense under the burning sunset. I'd climbed to the First's head to think. I wrestled with my thoughts until the sunset faded into black, and even then, I didn't find any answers.

It was a beautiful, star-filled night. I hadn't spoken to anyone in days.

Not even to him.

He showed up out of nowhere, as he always did. I looked to my side, and there was Kyubi, sitting cross-legged, eyes lost in the horizon. Somehow, I wasn't surprised. I wondered if I was getting used to him—and whether that was a good thing.

Kyubi wore the same black kimono with gray hakama I had on. I'd bought it after giving up on cleaning the bloodstains from my old yukata. The shopkeeper had said it was old-fashioned for someone my age—and maybe she was right—but it felt right at the time.

Besides, the idea of wearing my old clothes again made me sick, though I didn't know why.

"So, have you decided to apologize yet?" I asked, half-joking.

He didn't answer. His gaze was locked somewhere in the distance, watching the village. The wind stirred his hair gently, which, like mine, was loose. We both wore our forehead protectors tied to our obi—a habit I'd picked up since Jiraiya gave me the yukata at that hot spring.

I realized he was avoiding eye contact. I wondered if maybe he was ashamed. The idea struck me as so ridiculous, considering who he was, that I let myself believe it.

"So you're shy. That's unexpected."

"Don't talk nonsense."

Slowly, the night deepened before us. A few clouds drifted lazily in the distance—some gray, some bathed in moonlight. As the village quieted, the crickets began to sing. Far off, a dog barked, followed by a baby's cry.

I felt at ease. Only when Konoha slept did it seem to have room for me.

"You know, fox? I've been thinking about my parents."

"Mhm."

"It's been years since I really did that. I mean—not like this. Not like I actually missed them. Does that make sense? Missing someone you've never met?"

"Mhm."

"Do you miss anyone, fox?"

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him lower his head into his hands and clench his fingers. He stayed like that for a while, silent. I understood that if there was an answer, he wasn't going to give it to me.

"Because I do," I admitted, letting my eyes wander over the village. From here, I could see the outlines of the other stone faces—among them, the Third's.

"And knowing I'll never have them with me again just… hurts."

"Mmm."

"I tell myself: Naruto, you've got your memories. But dammit—I don't! I don't even know what they looked like, or if I resemble them. Or which one chose my name. You get it, fox? I feel like something inside me is missing… and if I've felt this way all my life… if they knew that, then why the hell didn't anyone do anything about it?"

"They wanted to protect you," he said quietly.

In the distance, the baby cried again, inconsolable.

"Do you really think you could've handled the truth back then?" Kyubi asked.

"I never asked them to protect me!"

"I know you didn't, kid."

I bit my lip as a storm welled up inside me—an old wound laid bare, and I no longer knew how to make it whole again.

But the truth was, I did know how.

"I'm going to find out who my parents were," I said aloud—to the fox, to the sky, to the village.

"I could tell you right now."

I shook my head.

"No. I want to do it myself."

After everything I'd been through, hearing it from him would've been too easy. I didn't want it that way. It would've made all my effort—my loneliness—mean less.

Kyubi nodded solemnly.

"I understand," he said quietly.

"But…"

I pressed my lips together like I could keep the words from slipping out. They trembled against each other, and the cold crept up my neck. In the end, I couldn't—I didn't want to—hold them in.

"Could you tell me what my mother was like?"

Kyubi let out a soft chuckle. For the first time, there was no malice in it.

"Your mother…" he paused.

He looked ahead. For a moment, it seemed like he could actually see her.

"Her hair was like fire, and her personality matched it. She was young, but her thoughts didn't revolve around herself—they revolved around others. Toward the end, they were mostly about your father… but especially about you."

A smile slipped from me.

"Thanks, fox," I said, genuinely. I wiped the moisture from my eyes with the back of my hand. Then something occurred to me.

"But how do you know what she was thinking?"

Kyubi looked up at the full moon, its silver light shining down like a giant eye watching us.

"Who knows," he said. "Maybe I made it all up."

But it didn't sound like he had.

Chapter Text

After a horrible night, someone knocked on my door. It was Sakura.

"Ah, hey," I said.

"Care to tell me where the hell you've been?"

She didn't sound pleased.

It was a foggy morning, and I had been dreaming of strange places and people I'd never met. As a result, I was tired and in a foul mood. I leaned against the doorframe and yawned into my palm.

"I've been busy," I offered.

"Too busy to visit Sasuke?" Sakura planted her fists on her hips. "He was discharged, you know?"

"I heard something about that."

I stifled another yawn and crossed my arms in front of her, partly to block the view of the shadow clone lounging on my couch.

Sakura scoffed and locked her green eyes onto mine.

"You haven't even asked how he's doing."

"Because if something had happened, you'd already have told me. And the last time I saw him, we were throwing punches on a rooftop. I don't know, Sakura. It's six in the morning. Use your imagination."

A muffled laugh came from inside my living room, and I cursed Kyubi under my breath—Sakura had heard it too. She frowned, trying to peer past me through the doorway, but I stood firmly in the way.

"I didn't know you had company," she said.

"Shadow clones. I use them to clean. Or try to."

She didn't seem entirely convinced but let it go. The tips of her hair were damp, as if she had showered and left the house in a hurry. Had she come here straight from home? I suddenly felt a little guilty.

"Come in. I'll make some tea."

As Sakura followed me into the living room, I signaled Kyubi, who was lounging on the couch with his legs crossed. "Get lost," I thought—and to my surprise, he did.

"This place is a mess," Sakura said, looking around. "Didn't you say your clones cleaned?"

"Yeah, well, they're kind of lazy. Is green tea okay?"

"Whatever you've got."

I put the kettle on the stove and sat with her on the couch, making sure to leave a bit of distance between us. I realized it was the first time we were alone in my apartment. But I didn't feel anything about it.

Sakura watched the steam beginning to rise from the kettle. Like me, she didn't quite know what to say. We didn't have much in common—except Sasuke.

Thinking of him brought back what happened at the hospital; how Sakura had tried to stop us from killing each other. And what had I done in return? Tried to hurt her. If that punch had landed, who knows what could've—

The words slipped from my throat before I realized.

"Sakura… I'm sorry about the other day."

Silence.

"I don't know what came over me," I said, "but I could've hurt you."

"You really think I'm weak, don't you?"

"Huh?"

"I'm a ninja, just like you. I've been hit before and I'm still here. You don't need to apologize for that. If you want to say sorry to someone, apologize to Tsunade. She's got better things to do than play babysitter for genin."

The kettle began to whistle, and someone took it off the stove before either of us could react.

"I wasn't trying to underestimate you," I said.

Sakura smiled, just a little, and only for a moment.

"I know, idiot."

A pause. We looked at each other. Sakura bit her lower lip, distracted, and after a moment's thought, she said:

"When you fought Sasuke, your eyes turned red. Like his. Did you know that?"

An inquisitive look.

I understood that it was something she'd been meaning to ask since that day. I thought about lying. I almost did. But Sakura wasn't stupid.

I nodded slowly.

"Your pupils were slit," she said, "like Kiba's. And your gaze… it lit up like a Sharingan, but it wasn't one."

"Sakura, I…"

"I thought maybe it was some kind of jutsu, but what jutsu gives off chakra that makes your skin crawl? I don't know much about the Uzumaki, but I've never read that you guys can do anything like that."

Hearing my clan's name made me realize I didn't know much about them either. All I remembered was that they used to be important, back before the founding of the village. I wondered if they'd ever developed a signature technique, like the Nara or the Akimichi… or if, like everything else in my life, that inheritance had been lost too.

"You're exaggerating," I said. "It's just something that happens when I use too much chakra. Nothing more."

It was a bad excuse, and we both knew it.

"Naruto…"

She reached out and held my hand. I looked down at it, then up again. I saw the nervous rise and fall of her chest, her lips parting, hesitating. Her eyes fixed on mine, clear and sincere. I held her gaze. Then she let go of my hand.

"Is there something you haven't told us?" she asked.

I opened my mouth to reply.

That's when Kyubi set the kettle down on the coffee table, making us both jump. We looked at him as he placed two cups beside it.

"Drink it before it gets cold," he said, pouring the tea.

He smiled, then carried the kettle to the kitchen and started washing it with skillful ease. The bastard had made sure Sakura got a good look at the same red eyes we'd just been talking about.

She glanced back at me, anxiety in her expression.

"I didn't see you do any hand seals," she said quietly.

"That's because he's been here from the start."

Technically, I wasn't lying. Sakura hesitated before drinking her tea. I picked up my cup, warmed my hands on it, then took a sip.

It was bitter.

Leaning against the counter, Kyubi watched us drink.

And for a moment, I thought I saw us through his eyes.

It was getting late, so I looked for the nearest training field, hoping it would be empty. I wanted to test my shadow clone jutsu—I hadn't used the technique since the fight with Kabuto, out of fear of what might happen.

I didn't know if Kyubi was capable of creating clones on his own, or—more disturbingly—if what he was doing was taking control of mine.

One of those clones had knocked me out cold. What would happen if I summoned ten of them? Or a hundred? The thought alone made my stomach churn. I couldn't allow something like that to happen again, and at the same time, I couldn't do without the technique my entire fighting style was based on.

Every time I asked Kyubi about it, he just mocked me.

Too much time had passed. I had to find out whether I could still rely on my shadow clones. I tried to form the hand seal, but a knot tightened in my throat, so I decided to wait until I got to the field.

The problem was—it was already occupied.

There was a team training. I stopped on a tree branch to watch them. The field was a patch of packed dirt, made for what they were doing: sparring.

It was two against one, and Shino was winning. Neither Kiba nor Hinata could touch him, even though they were much better coordinated than I remembered. Both of them were faster and more aggressive than during the exams, but all they managed to do was swipe through a cloud of insects.

I sat on the branch as a swarm of what looked like wasps surrounded Hinata. She spun in place, creating a dome of chakra that instantly vaporized the bugs.

"Not bad," said Kyubi, suddenly sitting next to me. "But it won't help her. That kid with the glasses is on another level."

He rested his chin in his palm, trying his best to sound bored.

"Shino was always strong," I said. "It's easy to underestimate him because he keeps to himself, but those bugs… I wouldn't want to fight them."

"They're disgusting," Kyubi agreed. "I couldn't eat someone like that."

I pretended I hadn't heard that.

In the field, Kiba and Akamaru turned into spinning tornados and crashed into the ground with a deafening thud. The dust cloud they kicked up reached all the way to us. When it cleared, we saw that the attack had done nothing.

"That Inuzuka, though…" Kyubi laughed in a way that made his opinion clear and stood up on the branch. "At least the pup's got guts."

"Yeah, well, Kiba was never the sharpest kunai in the pouch," I said, and as I did, Kyubi dropped from the branch and vanished before he hit the ground.

I kept watching the match until Hinata spotted me with her Byakugan. Brushing away a swarm of insects with a spin, she said something I couldn't hear, but it got her teammates' attention.

Kiba's loud voice echoed across the field.

"Look who finally decided to show up! What are you doing up there? Come down so I can see that ugly mug of yours!"

That was his way of saying he was glad to see me. After so many years at the Academy, you got used to his way of being—though never completely.

I jumped down and walked over to them.

"Hey, Kiba, quit shouting. You're giving me a headache," I said. He punched me in the shoulder, friendly-like.

He looked me up and down, taking in the kimono.

"Whoever's giving you fashion advice is messing with you," he grinned. "Trust me, orange looked better."

I shoved him, which only widened his grin. Like any good Inuzuka, his canines were as sharp as a wolf's.

"When I want your opinion, I'll ask for it. Don't hold your breath," I said, pinching his cheek between my thumb and forefinger. He slapped my hand away and said something obscene. I laughed.

"By the way, Shino was really handing it to you. That Gatsuga just now—were you aiming for another village?"

To my surprise, he found it funny.

"I'd like to see you try. Landing a hit on an Aburame is like throwing a shuriken in the dark: doable, but a pain in the ass."

"Wow," I said. "Don't tell me you've matured."

"Screw you."

"That's the Kiba I know," I smiled.

While we talked, Shino and Hinata joined us. He greeted me with a simple nod and nothing more. He wasn't much of a talker, and I kind of liked that. She said my name in that soft voice of hers and asked how I was doing. I told her I was fine.

"I'm glad," she said. "I was worried about you."

It was strange hearing her say what she thought so plainly. I thanked her and thought I'd probably like her more if she were always like that.

"I saw how you repelled Shino's insects," I said. "You've improved a lot."

Hinata had the remarkable ability to turn as red as a tomato in half a second—something I might've found cute if it didn't happen nine times out of ten. Talking to her was like eating soup with a fork: it took a kind of patience I unfortunately didn't have.

At least this time she managed a reply.

"Thank you… I'm sure you've improved too."

At that, Kiba burst out laughing.

"Ever since she saw your match against Neji, she's been training like crazy. Isn't that right, Hinata? I'd say you inspired her."

"Kiba! Don't say things like that…"

Of course, telling Kiba what he could or couldn't say was about as effective as arguing with a mule.

We kept chatting until Kiba asked why I'd come. I told him I was here to train—and called him an idiot for good measure. He asked why I didn't train with them. After all, he said, we had unfinished business.

"You beat me in such a ridiculous way, you owe me a rematch."

"Don't tell me that loss has been keeping you up at night," I teased.

"Not at all. But tonight, I'll sleep like a baby remembering the beating I gave you."

We decided on a two-on-two match. We'd fight until one team could no longer continue or gave up. Kiba seemed confident, and stepping a few meters away, he told me to pick which of his teammates I wanted to pair up with.

"I'll go with Hinata," I said, moving to her side. "You stick with Shino. You'll need all the help you can get."

What I really wanted was to face Shino, but it seemed both Hinata and Kiba thought otherwise. He winked at her, and she turned red again. While we took our positions—Shino, Kiba, and Akamaru on one side, and the two of us on the other—I glanced at Hinata.

"Ready?"

The veins around her eyes bulged with the Byakugan.
She was ready.
"And you guys? Are you?"

"I'm always ready, Naruto!" Kiba roared. "Right, Akamaru?"

The dog barked in agreement. To his right, Shino assumed his stance: arms hanging loose at his sides, clouds of insects pouring from each sleeve.

"Let's begin," he said.

We all braced ourselves. Kiba bared his claws and Akamaru his fangs. Hinata brought her palms forward, gathering chakra in them. I tucked my arms inside my kimono, letting the sleeves billow in the breeze, and said:

"I'm gonna kick your ass all the way home!"

A fierce grin spread across his face, and before lunging at me, he shouted:

"Akamaru, go for the balls!"

And even though I almost regretted everything, I charged forward too. We met in the center of the field and clashed. Kiba's claws grazed the top of my head; I dodged another strike, then sidestepped Akamaru, and counterattacked. Two punches: the first he blocked pretty well, but the second landed square in his gut.

Even though I hit him hard, Kiba took it with a wide grin and grabbed both my shoulders with surprisingly strong hands.

"Gotcha…"

That's what he said. I think he was going to say more, but he didn't. I noticed blood between his teeth. Something inside me screamed: don't go on. It wasn't Kyubi's voice—it was my instinct. And when it speaks that clearly, you listen.

"Hey, Kiba, are you…?"

A trickle of blood slipped from his mouth, down his chin and neck.

Kiba's expression went strange. He blinked. Then gagged. Akamaru barked nonstop. Elsewhere in the field, Hinata and Shino kept fighting, unaware of what was happening. The buzz of insects filled my ears, but even over that, I heard it clearly: the sound of Kiba vomiting blood—hot, red, and pouring down at his feet.

Chapter Text

Slowly, I looked down at the hand I’d used to strike him, just in time to see the cloak of chakra surrounding it vanish—almost as if by its own will.

A cloak of dense, heavy chakra—like armor. Just like my shadow clone’s.

I had no idea how I’d used so much power without noticing, but one thing was clear: if I’d hit Kiba with that kind of force, then he…

“Damn it! Kiba…!”

I rushed to him just in time to catch him. His legs were weak and trembling. Pale, he clung to my kimono until he managed to stay upright.

“You… what did you…”

His mouth was a wide smear of red. Kiba tried to speak, but all that came out were garbled sounds. It was like he’d vomited his words along with everything else. I did what I could to hold him steady, trying to ignore Akamaru’s whimpering—and more than anything, the fox’s laughter.

Kyubi had burst out laughing when he saw Kiba vomit.

“Ha ha ha!” he howled. “Didn’t see that one coming, brat! Guess you do have a sense of humor!”

I felt sick with myself. I tried to pick Kiba up, but he resisted, gripping my kimono with his other hand, his face twisted with pain and rage.

He had found his voice again.

“What the hell did you do to me, you bastard?!” he yelled.

It ashamed me to think I didn’t know.

With a roar, he pulled me closer and smashed his other fist into my cheek. I didn’t dodge—I took the hit without moving. I deserved it.

“You need a medic,” I said.

“What I need… is to punch you in the—”

A wet cough cut him off. Kiba shoved me away and staggered back a few steps. There was blood in that cough.

“You’re gonna pay for this… shit, it hurts… I swear I’ll… No, Akamaru, it’s fine, I’m fine. I just need to… I need to…”

Luckily, I caught him again before he collapsed.

“You and I are getting out of here.”

Then I heard a woman scream.

“Kiba!!”

Hinata came running up to us and grabbed me with a force I never thought she had, shouting something—maybe my name—but then she let go like she’d touched fire.

“Naruto…! What… what is this?”

She stepped back, her Byakugan wide open.

I didn’t know eyes so white could reflect something so dark.

“It’s… horrible,” she whispered.

Horrible. It hurt to hear it.

“Hinata,” said another voice.

Shino appeared beside us. Even in that moment, his expression was unreadable. The Aburame had ice in his veins.

And he wouldn’t take his eyes off me.

“The hospital is too far. We don’t have time to waste.”

I lifted Kiba into my arms. His arms hung limp at his sides, though he was still conscious.

I felt Akamaru’s paws scrambling up my legs, whining in panic.

“Akamaru,” Shino said, and a swarm of insects rose between the dog and me. “Naruto’s leaving.”

Jiraiya had warned me. The fox’s power was dangerous. But I was a damn idiot—and now I’d hurt someone. I clenched my teeth, my body shaking. Not from nerves. From rage. At myself.

“We’ll go to Tsunade. She’ll know what to do.”

I filled my lungs with air that smelled like blood. I looked at Kiba—he was delirious. Next to me, Hinata was speaking, but I couldn’t understand her words. It was like they bounced off an invisible wall before reaching me. All I could see were her lips moving—and for the first time, they looked disappointed in me.

“You’ve entertained me, kid. I’ll lend you a hand.”

Suddenly, a red aura flared around me like fire. They both stepped back. Even Shino looked disturbed.

“I’ll get there faster on my own,” I said.

I didn’t wait for an answer. I didn’t want one. I just wanted to get away from that place as fast as I could—and fix what I’d broken. I started to run.

I guess from their point of view, I vanished.

The village blurred past me so fast I barely had a sense of where I was going. Kyubi’s chakra swelled inside my muscles, pushing my legs into the speed I needed.

To reach the Hokage’s office, I had to cross nearly all of the Leaf. I picked up the pace. Rooftops melted together, blurred and unrecognizable. I accelerated again, leaping over two streets in a single bound, a streak of red chakra cutting through the air.

I could hear Kiba calling out his dog’s name—and other names I didn’t recognize. A sharp stab hit my chest. If he dies, I’ll never forgive myself.

I promised myself it would never happen again. That I’d keep that power under control.

“Control?” Kyubi laughed. “You think too highly of yourself.”

Maybe he was right. Maybe controlling it was impossible. But what was the alternative? Bury it even deeper inside me? Turn myself in to the ANBU and let them lock me in a cage where I couldn’t hurt anyone else?

“Is that what you’d do? Give up your freedom?”

“If that’s what it takes.”

I landed on a rooftop, skidding across it and tearing through the tiles with my sandals. I jumped onto the roof of a taller building and sprinted across it in long strides.

“Liar. You’d never let anyone take it from you.”

At the edge of the rooftop, I held Kiba tighter against me—and leapt off.

And as I fell, I screamed like I never had before.

I crashed through the window with a bang. The two chunin guarding the office jumped to their feet, weapons drawn.

“You—! What the hell—?!”

“Out of my way!”

A surge of chakra burst from me, cracking the remaining glass. I didn’t have time for this. I moved toward them, the two chunin standing in front of the door with their bodies as shields. One of them, clearly the one in charge, pointed his sword at me—his hands shaking.

“Don’t move!”

I was losing patience. I thought about knocking them aside—nearly did. But I had to stay in control. I stepped up to them until the tip of the blade touched my throat.

“My friend is hurt,” I said, aware of the tremor in my voice. “I need to see Tsunade. Let me through.”

“No one goes in without her order,” one of them said.

“Yeah, punk. You think you can just barge in here like this?” said the other, grabbing my shoulder.

Did he think my voice was shaking from fear? It was rage. Bottled rage. I glanced down at his hand.

“Good idea,” Kyubi whispered. “Bite it off.”

I took a breath to steady myself.

“Are you deaf? This isn’t a hospital!” the first guard snapped.

“I told you to move.”

I could feel my patience fracturing. Just when I thought I might lose it completely, the doors to the office slammed open. Tsunade stepped out, wearing her ceremonial Hokage robe over her shoulders.

“You two! What’s all this noise?!”

The chunin, who had looked ready to run, suddenly snapped to attention and began explaining in a rush. Tsunade raised one hand—silence.

She’d seen me. She’d seen Kiba.

A shadow fell over her face.

“Bring him in,” she said, hurrying back inside.

She led me into the office and cleared her desk with a sweeping arm. Mountains of papers and folders crashed to the floor.

“Put him here.”

I laid Kiba down on the desk as gently as I could and stepped back as Tsunade unzipped his hoodie and tossed it aside. She lifted his shirt—and froze when she saw the massive bruise spread across his abdomen.

“Gods… Who did this to him?” she murmured.

“I did,” I said, lowering my head. A heavy silence filled the room.

Tsunade formed a string of seals. Her hands began to glow with soft, emerald-colored chakra. She pressed them against Kiba’s wound, making him grunt in pain.

“Hang in there,” she told him softly. Then, to me, “Now tell me what happened. Every detail.”

I leaned on the desk, head down, staring at the old, dark wood, trying to collect my thoughts.

“We were training. I hit him in the stomach and he started throwing up blood. I… used too much chakra without realizing it. I didn’t mean to.”

“For not meaning to, you wrecked him pretty good.”

A painful throb pulsed in my chest.

“Shit. I’m sorry.”

“Save your apologies for him. Why didn’t you take him to the hospital?”

“They say you’re the best medical ninja there is.”

Kiba stirred on the desk, and she held him in place before returning to her healing jutsu, a bitter smile on her lips.

“People say a lot of things,” she said. Then, after a pause: “When you say you used chakra… do you mean yours—or the fox’s?”

The question caught me off guard. I stayed quiet, gripping the edge of the desk.

“I figured as much,” she said quietly. “Jiraiya warned me.”

“He warned me too. And still… look at me.”

“Save the self-pity for later. I’m not here to listen to you whine.”

I clenched my fists against the desk and pounded it—but I couldn’t summon any real strength.

“Can you save him?”

Tsunade didn’t even look up.

“I’m a god-damned Sannin. Of course I will.”

The healing chakra bathed her face in a soft glow. I tried to read something in her expression—but couldn’t.

There was a knock at the door. It was them.

Both of them were exhausted and out of breath. They must’ve rushed after me at full speed.

Hinata ran straight to the desk, panting.

“Lady Hokage… how is Kiba? Will he be alright?”

“It’s too soon to say,” Tsunade replied, not even looking at her.

I stepped closer and reached out to gently touch Hinata’s back—or tried to. As soon as she felt my hand, she stiffened and pulled away.

“Hinata, I…”

“Naruto,” she said, turning around. Her pale eyes met mine—and for the first time, they didn’t look away. “I know.”

I thought I saw a hint of a smile. Or maybe I just hoped I did.

“Fifth,” Shino said, his voice quiet but edged with fatigue—though he was good at hiding it. After bowing to Tsunade, he turned to me.

“We couldn’t keep up with you,” he said. “You’re much faster now. Way more than you were back in…”

The sentence trailed off.

Kiba had groaned his dog’s name. I noticed Shino was holding the little pup in one arm. Akamaru barked, struggling to get free, but Shino kept him firmly against his chest.

“Please, Akamaru. Not now.”

The dog whimpered softly—and as if he understood, fell still.

“So this is Hashirama’s granddaughter…”

Kyubi’s voice carried a faint note of approval. And he wasn’t wrong. I’d seen other medical ninja before—but nothing like her. Tsunade had kept her healing technique active for almost three hours straight while treating Kiba, never stopping once to rest.

We were alone in the office now. Hinata and Shino had gone to the Inuzuka residence to inform the family of Kiba’s condition. They said they’d return once they were done. I figured they wouldn’t be long.

Tsunade stood at one of the windows, overlooking a wide stretch of the village. She had draped her ceremonial robe over the back of a chair and now stood in silence, smoking, a cigarette stained with red lipstick between her fingers. Smoke curled in thin strands from her lips into the warm night beyond.

“I did everything I could,” she said flatly. “Damn it, I did the impossible. His insides were a wreck. That chakra left a burn like nothing I’ve ever seen. Honestly, it’s a miracle he even made it here alive. The Inuzuka are like that—stubborn, hard-headed. Just like your friend.”

She smiled.

“That bastard clings to life like he’s got his teeth sunk into it.”

She tapped the cigarette, ashes drifting out into the dark.

“I don’t know how long it’ll take him to recover. There will be aftereffects—and it’s impossible to say how badly they’ll impact his ability as a shinobi. From here on, it’s up to him.” She sighed. “I couldn’t do more than that.”

Kiba still lay on the desk. I watched his chest rise and fall.

He was unconscious—but he was still here.

With a quiet breath of relief, I stepped to the window beside Tsunade.

“You saved his life,” I said. “If not for you, I…”

I clenched my hand in the other until it hurt. I stared into the darkness, wishing I could lose myself in it.

“Naruto. We need to talk.”

Still holding the cigarette between her lips, Tsunade turned from the window and leaned back against it, arms resting on the sill. She looked up at the ceiling, where the smoke hung in lazy swirls.

“This is the second time you’ve lost control. No—don’t speak. Just listen. This,” she said, gesturing to Kiba with the cigarette, “will have consequences. And not just because you nearly killed someone.”

She took a long drag.

“What do you think the Inuzuka will do when they find out?”

“They’ll hate me,” I said.

“Yes—but that’s the least of the problems. A fight between two genin isn’t a big deal. But when one of them is the Nine-Tails’ jinchuriki…”

I tensed.

“They know?”

Tsunade walked over to the desk, picked up the ashtray sitting there, and moved it away from Kiba. Then she stubbed out the cigarette and turned back to me.

“I don’t know. Maybe,” she said.

“How can you not know? You’re the Hokage.”

“I’ve been Hokage for all of one or two weeks. Don’t expect me to know everything that’s happened in this village, Naruto. I’ve been gone a long time.”

I ran a hand down my face. It burned—just like my chest.

“Who else knows?”

Without thinking, I slammed a fist into the wall, cracking it.

Tsunade didn’t flinch.

“Hiruzen never told me anything. Asking the Council—or Danzo—is pointless. All it would do is make me look inexperienced in front of them.”

She grabbed a cigarette from a pack by the ashtray and lit it, holding it between her fingers, arms crossed.

“In any case, if the noble clans haven’t heard already—which they probably have—I’ll have to deal with them soon.”

Then, more quietly:

“As if I didn’t already have enough on my plate.”

She let out a dry chuckle, though there wasn’t anything funny in her expression.

“Earlier you said something… ‘jinchuriki.’ What is that?”

“A cage."

“Oh,” she said, as if something had clicked. She hesitated. “I thought you—never mind. You deserve to know. A jinchuriki is someone who’s had a bijuu sealed inside them. A tailed beast,” she clarified. “Like the Kyubi. I understand you also met the jinchuriki of the One-Tail. That boy from the Sand.”

“Gaara…? He’s one too?”

I felt stunned.

When we fought, I remember thinking he and I weren’t so different. If I’d lived his life, maybe I’d have gone off the deep end, too.

Knowing we were both jinchuriki left me with a strange feeling—one I still didn’t have a name for.

“Jiraiya told me you knew about the Kyubi,” she continued. “That you’d learned how to access some of its power. But it seems like that amount is increasing. And that’s dangerous.”

“He told me the same thing.”

“If what you’re saying is true—and its chakra can manifest on its own—I don’t want to imagine what could happen.”

“Don’t listen to her. She just wants to control you.”

“I’ll learn to control my power.”

“It’s not your power. It’s his. You need to understand that. The chakra you’re using is borrowed—and it has a will of its own. If you get too comfortable with it, you might end up like Gaara.”

“Nonsense. Gaara had Shukaku. You have me .”

“I’m not like Gaara. He killed people in cold blood during the exams. I…”

“Cold blood or not. A death is still a death.”

“Empty words, meant to twist your heart.”

“I’ll get stronger.”

“The Nine-Tails isn’t something you can overpower by sheer strength. Believe me—I know. Before you, he had two other hosts. One of them… was my grandmother. A kunoichi of rare talent. And even she wouldn’t have been able to handle him without her sealing techniques.”

A memory surfaced—distant, hazy.

A woman. Beautiful, with hair the color of blood. I knew her name—and she knew mine.

Mito Uzumaki sat with her hands resting in her lap. Nothing could shake her calm.

“Using your power will only create more hatred. Sleep peacefully inside me.”

Suddenly I snapped back to reality. Tsunade was still speaking.

“We’ll find a way. A better seal. Jiraiya will know how… Naruto, are you listening to me?”

I touched my chest. My scar was burning like fire.

“You said Mito knew fuinjutsu,” I said slowly. “Was it because she was an Uzumaki, like me?”

“She was. Your clan was known for that in the past.” Tsunade half-smiled, like remembering something old. Then she frowned. “I never told you my grandmother’s name.”

“She was the First’s wife. They mentioned her at the Academy,” I lied. Maybe it was true—but I barely paid attention in class.

In the distance, I heard muffled shouts. I looked out the window but saw nothing.

“The more I learn about myself,” I said, “the more I realize how much Konoha has kept hidden from me.”

“Konoha hides many things. You’re not the only one who’s had to live with that.”

“I just hope you’ll be more honest with me than the Third was.”

“Watch your words, Naruto. I’m still your Hokage.”

Tsunade exhaled a plume of smoke.

“Hiruzen was a good man,” she said.

“Good men still make mistakes.”

“Whatever his flaws, in the end, he took responsibility for them.”

She was right. The Third had given his life for the village. And yet… why didn’t that feel like enough?

“A good death doesn’t erase a lifetime of sins.”

I opened my mouth to reply—when more shouts rang out, this time from the hallway. The doors to the office slammed open with a bang that echoed through the room.

“Again? What the hell is going on today?” Tsunade snapped, turning in her chair toward the door. But when she saw who stood there, her irritation shifted to concern. “What happened?”

Sakura’s face was pale, stricken.

“It’s Sasuke—he…”

Then she saw me. Her eyes, filled with tears, locked on mine. She rushed forward and wrapped her arms around me. I hugged her back. She held me tighter than I ever thought she would.

“He’s gone, Naruto. I couldn’t stop him.”

Hearing that, I hugged her even tighter. I buried my fingers in her hair and stroked it awkwardly—but nothing could calm her now.

“I don’t know what to do… the Sound… that idiot went with them!”

I felt her cheek against my chest. Her tears trickled from her nose down onto my skin. One slid to my scar—and when it touched, I could hear it sizzle.

There was fire inside me, and it needed out.

“Hey, kid,” Kyubi said.

“Sakura,” I said aloud.

“Let’s go get him.”

“I want you to stay calm.”

“Drag him back to the village.”

“I’ll bring him home.”

“Really?” she said, pulling back slightly.

Her face was flushed, her eyes swollen, lashes damp, tear-streaks carving her cheeks. Seeing someone I once cared for—someone as strong as her—reduced to this…

I couldn’t take it.

“I promise you, Sakura. I’ll bring him back…”

“And if he resists…”

“…even if I have to drag him.”

“…you know what to do.”

I wouldn’t fail again.

I’d bring Sasuke home.

And if I had to stain my hands to do it—

I’d do it without regret.

Chapter Text

Tsunade called for her guards. One of them picked Kiba up while the other listened to her orders. "Tell them I'll visit him tomorrow," said the Hokage. The two chunin bowed and disappeared.

"This damn day just keeps getting better…"

She tossed the cigarette butt into the ashtray and pulled out another one. It was her last.

We had just arrived. Tsunade slumped into her chair and exhaled a puff of smoke, scanning us one by one as if evaluating the team we had cobbled together. When she was done, she frowned.

"A handful of genin and a rookie chunin," she said, getting comfortable. "It'll have to do."

To rebuild itself—and its reputation—Konoha was taking more missions than usual, so most of the experienced jonin and chunin were out on assignment.

Sakura and I were joined by Shino, Hinata, and Shikamaru. Five teenagers with a mission far too big for us.

As the Hokage said, we'd have to be enough.

"We don't know if this is a kidnapping or a defection," she said. "In any case, the mission is the same: bring him back. Hostage or not, I want him in this office by sunrise. Use force if you must."

Just hearing it made my pulse spike. Sakura shifted her weight from one foot to the other, uneasy. The idea of fighting Sasuke made her uncomfortable—especially after hearing what I'd done to Kiba.

Tsunade rested her elbows on the desk and interlaced her fingers. The cigarette smoked quietly above them.

"Now then," she continued, "if the enemy force is too large, or if they're high-level shinobi, abandon the mission immediately. I don't want to lose any of you. I'm leaving that call to you, Shikamaru. I trust you'll be reasonable."

Shikamaru nodded.

"No worries, Fifth," he said. "I'm not in a hurry to die."

"None of you should be. Now get going. I'll send a backup team as soon as possible. Until then, don't be stupid. Understood?"

"Yes!" we all said in unison.

We were just about to turn around when Tsunade—suddenly very serious—raised her hand.

"One last thing. It's impossible, but… if this has anything to do with Orochimaru, even if you just *suspect* he's involved…"

She crushed the cigarette between her fingers.

"Run. And don't look back."

A heavy silence fell over the group.

I heard the rustle of their clothes. Uneasy breaths. The faint, muffled buzz of an insect. Hinata was staring at me—and I stared back. Her lips moved, but I couldn't read them.

A sigh—exaggerated and theatrical—broke the silence.

Shikamaru spoke to us.

"You heard the Fifth," he said. "We have no idea what we're walking into. Believe me, I'm not any happier about it than you are. Truth is, Sasuke's a jerk. Nobody wants to bleed for a jerk."

He looked at each of us, one by one.

"So let's bleed for a comrade."

We left Konoha and headed north.

Our destination was the valley that marked the border between the Land of Fire and the Land of Sound. According to the stories, the place was actually a scar carved into the earth by a legendary battle. That's why it had such an ominous name: the Valley of the End.

"Humans have a bad habit of giving the world ridiculous names," said Kyubi as we leapt through the forest. "As if it needed them. The Valley of the End… the only thing that ended there was one man's madness."

"Since when do you care about shinobi history?"

"History?" he snorted. "I was there, boy."

We were moving at a good pace, keeping the formation Shikamaru had designed. Hinata was in front, scanning the terrain with her Byakugan; Shino's insects covered our rear. I watched her back, Sakura covered mine, and Shikamaru stayed in the center, issuing commands.

"Orochimaru… you think he's still alive?"

"You saw him burn," said Kyubi.

"Even so."

We sped through the forest. Another one came after, just as vast and shadowed as the last. The night was slowly giving way to morning, but the darkness still clung to the trees. Now and then, the moon broke through the black clouds and lit our path with silver light.

Shikamaru went over the battle plan.

"No heroics. We all go for the same enemy at once," he said. "Sakura, Shino and me will lock them down. Once we're done, you two"—he nodded to Hinata and me—"take them out. Don't hold back. They won't."

"Smart kid, your friend," said Kyubi. "But those strategies are for cowards and weaklings."

"Got a better idea, fox?"

"Yes," he said. "You and I crush them. One by one. Until nothing's left."

With a leap, we landed in a long clearing where we were completely exposed. The clouds had parted enough for the moon to light us clearly. Even running as fast as my teammates could manage, it took us almost a full minute to cross. If there were enemies nearby, they'd already seen us.

"These kids are slow. We'd be faster alone."

"I've made enough mistakes. I need them."

"You only need me."

The forest ahead was the last of them—or so Shino claimed; he knew the terrain. Once we crossed it, we'd reach the valley. It was denser than the others, thick enough to make movement tricky in places. Visibility was awful. Luckily, we had Hinata.

Thanks to her Byakugan, we saw them in time.

"I see someone. Four people," she whispered.

"Stop!" Shikamaru ordered. We did. "Hinata, is one of them Sasuke?"

The veins around her eyes deepened.

"No. They're unknowns. About forty meters away—maybe less. Their clothing… they're Sound shinobi."

We were perched on tree branches. Shikamaru crouched on his, closing his eyes for a moment the way he always did when thinking.

"At that distance, there's a chance they've already detected us," he said. "Shino, could you—?"

"Already on it," Shino replied, releasing two swarms of insects from his sleeves and sending them toward the enemy.

"Good," Shikamaru nodded. "Four of them, five of us. That would be good news—if we had any clue what level they're at." Then, mostly to himself: "If they're high-level shinobi, numbers won't mean anything… Naruto, we'll need your clones to even the odds."

"Heh. So, what now, brat?" Kyubi laughed.

"They're moving," said Hinata before I could answer.

"They're heading this way," Shino confirmed.

"They're fast."

"Did they see us?" asked Shikamaru.

"They have a—"

"—sensor-type ninja," I finished for him.

"They're here!" shouted Sakura, pulling out a kunai.

Shikamaru stood up and did the same.

"Remember the strat—!"

"Watch out!" Hinata cried.

Clack. A kunai embedded itself in the branch beneath his feet—right between them. It hissed.

Shikamaru looked down just in time to see the explosive tag wrapped around the handle.

"Oh shit—!"

"Shikamaru!"

I dove toward him just as the branch exploded.

In the final second, I caught him, and the blast slammed us into the trunk of another tree. I felt splinters pierce my skin, saw chunks of wood scatter in all directions.

And then I saw the Sound ninja descending on the others—bloodthirsty.

We hit the ground hard.

The explosion had separated us.

"Sakura! Hinata! Fall back!"

Shino used two clouds of insects to shove the kunoichi toward safer branches. Then he raised his arms.

A low hum began to rise in the forest. It came from everywhere and was closing in. And then I saw them—swarms Shino had spread through the woods. Hundreds of insects—no, thousands—rushed together into a black mass. I felt the vibration of their countless wings in the ground beneath me.

The swarm hovered above us like a second night.

Shino extended both hands forward.

"Go. Feed."

It wasn't until then that I truly understood the scope of his abilities.

The insects lunged at all four Sound shinobi at once. Surrounding them. Overwhelming them. They tried to counterattack—but there were too many. One of them, a big guy with orange hair, let out a roar and charged straight at Shino—but a cloud of insects caught him mid-air and slammed him into the ground.

Right next to us.

"Damn it… I'm gonna tear you in half!" He stood up, wiping the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. Then he noticed me. "Oh well. You'll do just fine."

"Shikamaru, go with them," I said. "I'll handle him."

Nara nodded. With a leap, he took to the trees, where the other Sound ninja were starting to push back against the insects. One of them had a strange jutsu—he could spit webs the size of fishing nets. Each one wiped out entire swarms.

"That's it, Kidomaru! Wipe out those bugs!" someone shouted.

A red-haired kunoichi broke free from the swarm chasing her and lunged at Shino, slashing with her kunai.

We were surrounded, disorganized, and losing rhythm. Each of us was fighting our own war. I could feel everyone's chakra around me, but for a moment, I couldn't tell who was fighting whom. I saw a gray-haired shinobi knock Sakura down with a flurry of strikes, and Hinata spinning midair to deflect a web falling toward her.

"Shikamaru, we need a plan!" I heard Sakura yell.

I started to move in to help—but the brute took a step toward me.

"Hey. I'm your opponent," he said.

He planted himself in front of me. He couldn't have been much older than I was, but he had at least two heads on me—and a hundred pounds of muscle. I had to crane my neck to meet his smug, malicious grin.

"Look at you. All skin and bones," he said. "Scrawny little thing. I almost feel bad for what I'm about to do."

"Hey, Jirōbō!" the kunoichi shouted from above. "Quit messing around and finish it already!"

His smile stretched wider, showing teeth.

"Sorry, runt. I'm in a hurry."

Without warning, Jirōbō pulled back his arm and swung it at me. His massive fist shot toward my face at terrifying speed—then stopped inches from my nose.

I'd caught his wrist.

I squeezed—and his bones cracked.

The surprise twisted his face before pain took over. He yanked his arm back, but it wouldn't budge—so he swung with the other.

I caught that one too. Another squeeze. More cracking. More pain.

"Oh, come on…" said Kyubi.

"Let go of me, you bastard!" he snarled. He threw his head forward and slammed it into mine. Our foreheads collided with a sickening, wet thud. We both started bleeding. I didn't move. I kept crushing his wrists.

He roared and did it again. Blood poured down his face—and mine. It got in my mouth and stained my teeth.

I smiled.

"You're playing with him."

"I almost feel bad for what I'm about to do," I said.

Then I channeled chakra into my arms and crushed his wrists with all my strength.

The crack this time was louder—uglier—and I knew I'd broken them. Jirōbō screamed in pain, but it cut off abruptly when I slammed my fist into his gut. I felt the chakra-wrapped punch bury itself in his belly. I stepped forward, bent my knee, and used the momentum to launch him like a cannonball—straight at the gray-haired ninja.

He barely dodged.

Jirōbō shot past him like a meteor, smashing through three or four trees with a deafening crash before disappearing into the forest.

His partner turned his gaze toward me—and the strange lump on the back of his neck seemed to do the same.

"Now…! Kagemane no Jutsu!"

Shikamaru's shadow stretched across the ground and linked with his opponent's. When a Nara's shadow touches yours, it locks your movements and forces you to mimic theirs. It's a deadly technique—and only they know how to use it.

"D-dammit…!" the Sound ninja growled.

He tried to break free. He was strong and had plenty of chakra, but Shikamaru, sweating, held him in place with his jutsu.

"I can't hold him for long…!" he shouted.

But Sakura was already in motion. From a higher branch, she formed hand signs quickly while focusing her chakra.

"Magen…"

The Sound shinobi started to thrash, pushing against the jutsu. Shikamaru gritted his teeth and held him steady. I watched from a branch a few meters below. I looked around for Hinata—but neither she nor that Kidomaru guy were anywhere in sight. Where had they gone?

A strained grunt reached my ears. Shikamaru was shaking.

"Sakura, for god's sake…!"

"Narakumi no Jutsu!"

The genjutsu took hold. The struggling stopped.

Sakura landed next to her target, who now stared blankly into nothing, his eyes dull and empty.

But Shikamaru didn't release the technique. He wasn't taking any chances.

"You have to finish him."

Sakura held a kunai in her hand, blade reversed like a dagger.

"I know," she said firmly. But as she pressed the edge against the enemy's neck, her hand trembled.

A distant roar echoed through the trees. The forest was collapsing where Jirōbō had landed. "Looks like he's still got some fight left in him. Go give it to him," said Kyubi, amused.

A swarm of insects zipped past overhead, chasing the red-haired kunoichi. I noticed she had something in her hands—a flute.

Shikamaru was losing patience.

"Sakura, we don't have—"

"I KNOW, DAMN IT!"

Her scream rang through the clearing. Sakura gripped the kunai with both hands, clenched her jaw, opened it again, inhaled. Jirōbō's footsteps rumbled as he sprinted back toward us.

Something flickered across Sakura's face—a shadow, a twitch. She pressed the blade against the ninja's throat.

"This isn't my fault," she said, and drew the blade across his neck.

Or at least, she meant to.

Because something stopped her.

A hand—cold and grotesque—had grabbed her wrist. It emerged from the enemy's chest like something out of a nightmare. Sakura stared in horror as the lump on his back turned toward her, revealing a second head identical to the first.

"Not mine either," it said.

A second arm appeared and struck Sakura hard, launching her backward. She slammed into Shikamaru, knocking him off the branch.

"Careless as always, Sakon," said the head, separating completely from the other's body, like someone surfacing from water. Now there were two identical ninjas, side by side.

"It's not the time, Ukon," growled the other, touching the wound on his throat. "That bitch is going to pay."

The twins exchanged sly grins before launching their attack.

I thought about going after them, but Jirobo reached me first. He roared as he knocked down every tree in his path, transformed into some kind of monster. Clay-colored skin, yellow over black in his eyes, an orange mane… he resembled an oni.

"What kind of jutsu is that?" I wondered silently as I climbed down the tree. "That chakra reminds me of…"

Kyubi growled quietly. "…Orochimaru."

I planted my feet firmly on the ground. We collided. Or rather, Jirobo charged into me like a bull. I felt his shoulder slam into my chest and for a moment feared my ribs had turned to dust. The impact made my whole skeleton vibrate, but I held my ground. Jirobo dragged me for about twenty meters, my sandals leaving grooves in the dirt, but I stood firm. I felt blood in my throat and swallowed it.

We stopped. Two huge hands grabbed my shoulders and squeezed. I felt like my collarbone was about to snap. Jirobo looked at me with wild eyes.

"When I'm done with you, you'll wish you'd never been born!"

The transformation had made him stronger. Grabbing me by the shoulders, he lifted me up and slammed me onto the ground. I coughed up blood and rolled just in time to dodge a stomp aimed at my head. The ground shook.

"Ha, ha, ha! That's it! Run!"

More laughter. He was mocking me.

That damn bastard was mocking me.

My scar burned.

"Don't hold back…"

I thought of Kiba. The hit I'd given him… the chakra I'd used then had been much more powerful. Much heavier. I dodged one of Jirobo's punches, then another; I jumped several meters back to avoid another stomp.

"What's the matter, scared, weakling?" he laughed.

"…let it out."

Between laughs, Jirobo plunged his hands into the ground and, using an earth jutsu, tore a giant boulder from the earth. It was so big it blocked everything beneath it from view.

"I'll crush you like a cockroach!"

Dozens of small stones fell from the rock. That thing must've weighed tons, but he threw it with astonishing ease. The boulder flew toward me, filling my entire field of vision. It was too late to dodge, too heavy to stop…

…so I charged forward, and went right through it.

I still remember Jirobo's face when he saw me emerge from the rock, wrapped in a cloak of red chakra that kept me unharmed. Seeing his smile turn into panic… it felt good.

Hitting him was even better. I used the momentum from my charge to deliver a punch that rolled his eyes back. The blow knocked him down. Jirobo fell hard to the ground at the same time his boulder crashed into the trees behind me, sounding like an avalanche.

Jirobo was tough. He managed to get back up.

"Damn… what is that power? Who the hell are you?!"

Blood dripped from his mouth and nose as he spoke. I smiled, feeling the chakra around me. It warmed me from the inside like a blazing fire. It made my skin tingle, filling me with strength.

"Me?" I said, recalling Tsunade's words. "I'm the Nine-Tails' jinchuriki."

I saw his eyes slowly widen.

His will to fight melting away like burning ice.

"Kyubi…" he murmured.

Then he turned his head toward his comrades.

"Everyone! We have to ge—"

"Don't bother."

Jirobo looked at me. He hadn't noticed I'd come close. We were so close I could hear his breath—nervous, heavy.

"It won't help," I said, pressing my hand against his stomach. "Rasengan."

The sphere spun, wild and red, drilling into his gut.

He tried to pull back, but I grabbed him with my other hand. I squeezed. Held him tight. The sphere rotated, sending waves of red light all around us.

"Mo…monst—" Jirobo tried to shout but didn't have enough air.

I squeezed harder. Harder.

"I have to admit, you're tough, even if you look like a clown," I said. "Kabuto was tough too. And in the end, he fell. Though I never got to deliver the finishing blow—wish I had."

I released the technique. Jirobo gasped, catching his breath. His legs shook. His whole body did.

"I won't make the same mistake twice. Rasengan."

The crimson chakra roared again. I pressed it against his stomach, pushing. This time I let him pull back, moving forward with him until he lost balance and dropped to his knees. I released the technique again and crouched in front of him.

Jirobo gave me a dim look.

"You won't get away with… Kimimaro… will… finish… you…"

"Sorry, don't know him. Rasengan."

This time I aimed for his face.

"One down."

Chapter Text

The kunai stopped just before piercing his eye, and Shikamaru—dirty and wounded—leaned back against the tree trunk he was sitting against and allowed himself to breathe again.
It had really been a matter of luck. He had caught Sakon's shadow at the very last moment, with the last strength he had left. Now, the blade that had nearly slit his face trembled in front of him from the strain the other shinobi was exerting. Sakon breathed noisily, his cheeks swollen, his eyes wide and bloodshot. Consumed by murderous fury, he didn't even see me approach.

Just a little more, he must have been thinking. Just a millimeter and I'll kill him. He'll tire soon, anyway. It's only a matter of time. Maybe seconds.

He had transformed too. If Jirobo looked like an oni, Sakon looked like a demon. His skin had turned red and a single horn protruded from his monstrous head. Thick scales covered one of his arms and one leg. His clothes were stained with blood—it didn't look like his.

"You won't hold out forever!" he shouted. "You'll tire, and I'll kill you! I'll kill you for what you did to my brother!"

Ukon was a few meters away, lying face down next to Sakura. Neither of them moved. She... she was hurt. There were bloodstains in her pink hair.

"Kyubi, she..."

"Make him pay. It's only fair."

The fury that surged within me again was starting to feel familiar, but I didn't know how to question it.

A shadow separated from the others and climbed up Sakon's body like a snake.
"You think this will work on me?! Useless! I'm stronger!" Sakon struggled as the shadow turned into a black hand that wrapped around his neck with its fingers. "I won't die! A weakling like you can't kill me!"

"Shut the hell up," said Shikamaru, forming a seal. "Go keep your brother company."

The black fingers around Sakon's neck squeezed until they took his breath away.
But that was all they managed. Nara didn't have enough chakra left to finish the technique.

"Ah, shit..." he muttered between gasps as the hand disappeared.

Sakon let out a hysterical laugh.

"I told you! I told you I'd kill you! You're weak! You're a damn... weakling... just like everyone from your village...!"

The kunai shook harder with each word. He was about to break free. Shikamaru's shadow grew thinner and thinner, like a fraying rope.

"You're gonna die, idiot!" Sakon howled. Only a thread of shadow connected them.

There was joy in his shouting. The joy of revenge. I recognized it because I was about to feel it too. That Sakon bastard was going to pay; him, and all the damned Sound ninjas.

My scar pulsed. Hard.

Before he could break free, I approached from the side and delivered a frontal kick that sent him flying into a tree ten or fifteen meters away.
He tore through it cleanly and collapsed into the undergrowth.

"Damn, I thought I'd end up blind in one eye," said Shikamaru, sliding down the trunk. "That would've sucked."

A pause.

"Be careful with him, Naruto. He's dangerous."

I approached Sakura and picked her up in my arms, keeping an eye on Ukon's body. She had a nasty wound on her head, but she was still conscious. When she saw me, she murmured my name; I held her tighter and laid her down next to Shikamaru, who had managed to stand up, though with great difficulty.

"Take care of her while I handle this guy."

"I can still..." Sakura pushed herself up on her arms. "I can still fight."

"I know," I said. "But rest for now."

The undergrowth rustled, and Sakon emerged from it—furious, but unscathed. I frowned. I'd kicked him hard; I was hoping I'd broken something, at least. "Just like the other one," I thought. "That jutsu... that transformation makes them really tough."

"Don't let him touch you, or he'll get inside your body!" Shikamaru warned.

"Wait, what?"

No time for further explanations. With a scream of rage, Sakon launched himself at us at full speed. His slim build made him much faster than Jirobo, but I dodged his attacks all the same, putting a lot of effort into avoiding physical contact.

"You could've warned me earlier!" I shouted at Shikamaru, ducking under a punch. I reached into my kimono, pulled out a kunai, gripped it, and aimed for the throat.

Sakon deflected it with his scaly arm.

"You'll need a lot more to hurt me!" he said, followed by a scream of pain as I drove the same kunai into his leg, just above the knee. Sakon howled and ripped it out.

I shrugged.

"Wasn't that hard."

"YOU'RE DEAD!"

Suddenly, he threw his kunai. But not at me, as I expected—instead, at Shikamaru.

"I haven't forgotten about you, bastard!"

A brutal throw—fast, precise. Impossible to dodge for a chunin without strength or chakra. The kunai whistled straight toward Shikamaru's throat. With no other option, he closed his eyes.

Had he accepted his fate, or simply given up?

Whatever the answer, Sakura had other plans. With a swift pull, she brought Shikamaru to his knees, so the kunai passed over his head, slicing through his ponytail before embedding in the tree behind him.

Sakon clicked his tongue in disappointment.

"Are you stupid?!" Sakura grabbed Shikamaru's face to make him look at her. "Do you have a death wish?"

Before the Nara could respond, wood splinters fell on his head. Someone was yanking the kunai from the trunk—it was buried so deep it wouldn't come out easily.

With a hard pull, my shadow clone freed the blade.

"Nice reflexes, girl," he said. "Now take a good look at your friend. Under his shirt—he's been hiding a wound."

Sakura looked at Shikamaru in alarm. He looked at the clone. I wondered what he thought then.

"You're hurt?!" she said, lifting his shirt to reveal a narrow but deep stab wound. "Oh God… Shikamaru…"

I looked at Sakon. He gave me a sarcastic smile.

"Oh, don't look at me. He did it himself when I got inside his body. The idiot..." he laughed. "Now, where were we?"

"I was going to knock your teeth out."

"Ha! Good one!" he shouted, lunging at me again.

This time he attacked with more speed and fury than before. Sakon was strong. He knew where to strike, where I'd aim my blows. You don't get taijutsu like that overnight. He had a lot of experience—more than me, anyway.

Otherwise, he wouldn't have lasted this long against me.

"Girl," said Kyubi. "Do you know medical ninjutsu?"

"A little, but… I've barely practiced it."

"Use what you know. I'll help you."

"You? But, Naruto…"

"Do it, or your friend will die."

Sakon blocked two punches and countered. His kunai slashed me across the chest, a long horizontal cut. I growled in pain while he laughed. He attacked again—I dodged back; he followed, kunai in hand, pressing his advantage.

The blade came down like a scythe.

I gathered chakra and smacked it aside, shattering it.

"How…?"

My chance. I acted fast. Kicked him in the side, grabbed his horn with one hand, and slammed the other into his face with every ounce of strength I had.

Bam. The blow knocked him to the ground, his skull bouncing off the dirt. A cloud of dust and debris rose around us, thick enough to make us vanish for a moment.

Kyubi placed his hands over Sakura's and let his chakra flow into her. A mass of red chakra mixed with the green of her technique, making up for her inexperience with sheer power.

"Hold it like that. Don't move."

"All that chakra… Naruto, since when are you this… strong?"

The clone smiled, amused, saying nothing. Carefully, he pressed the girl's hands with his own, overloading the technique with a power that surpassed any medical ninja—except one.

"At this rate, we'll be done soon."

She nodded.

"I hope the others are okay."

"They'll make it," said Shikamaru. "I can't imagine Shino losing. And Hinata… she's strong too."

With a resolute expression, Sakura looked down at the wound and focused all her attention on it.

"Yes," she said. "They will."

Sakon brought a hand to his mouth—he was bleeding. One of his fangs was broken.

His face was burning. It was full of hatred. Not just for me, but for the others too; I saw the way he glanced at them. He seemed to be hesitating.

"Word of advice: I wouldn't fight that clone," I said.

He frowned, trying to figure out what I meant.

"Damn it… what are you doing with these brats?" he muttered. "Why did the village send you… is it because of the Sharingan?" Sakon's eyes lit up. "That's it, isn't it? You want it too."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Don't play dumb. I know what you are. You may be a kid, but your skills aren't those of a genin. And that bloodlust… you're not like those other weaklings. You're more like us."

"Like you? Please, have you seen your face?"

Sakon stared at me intensely.

"You're an ANBU."

I couldn't help laughing. What the hell was this idiot saying?

I decided to play along.

"And what if I am?" I said.

A bitter, incredulous laugh spread across Sakon's lips.

"Just like Orochimaru-sama said. Your village prides itself on morality, but deep down it's starving—just like the rest of us."

"That little demon is right," said Kyubi.

He had come up behind us without us noticing. Or maybe he'd just appeared. With him, it was hard—if not impossible—to tell.

"It's always been that way," he said. "Even in the past. That's how shinobi villages are: bottomless sacks for wealth and power. Not a single one is innocent."

He stepped closer to Sakon, who instinctively recoiled.

"Your clone," he said, "I didn't see you use any hand seals to summon it."

"He didn't," the clone said. "I reserve the privilege of showing up at the best moments. And this, kid, is one of them." Kyubi stood between us, the sleeves of his kimono billowing in the wind. "Now that I can smell you up close, you stink of blood. Poor boy. The things that snake must've made you do."

His voice was full of compassion. All of it fake.

"You have a kekkei genkai," he said. "You're lucky we found you. If he really were ANBU, you'd have been their lab rat until your death."

Then he turned to me.

"Let's do it. I know you want to."

The fox was right.

Without a word, I pulled out two kunai and gripped them in a reverse hold. If I couldn't touch him, my blades would. He raised his own and readied himself. He was nervous. The conversation with Kyubi had shaken him. He kept glancing at him—more than at me.

"Oh, I get it," I said. "Two against one feels a bit unfair, huh? You can call your brother if you want. Though I'm not sure he'll be much help."

I pointed one kunai at Ukon. A flash of rage crossed Sakon's face, and I knew he was about to lunge at me like a rabid dog.

"I'm the strongest of the Four!" he growled. "I don't care who you are! Or how many of you there are! I'll kill anyone in my way… I'll kill all of you!"

"Your buddy was a big talker too. Jirobo, was it? The big guy. Shame about him. He talked so much that, well… he lost his head."

Kyubi chuckled softly.

"If you think you can compare me to that loser…" Sakon muttered, low and gravelly.

"So numbers don't matter to you," Kyubi interrupted. "How adorable. I guess you think that transformation makes you special. I can smell it, you know? Orochimaru's chakra in it. Looks like your master gave you a nice gift…"

The chakra began to flow from me, red and light like wisps of fog.

"Your master is dead."

A flame appeared beside him. No, not a flame: a clone wrapped in chakra so intense it looked like fire. Another followed, and then more. One by one, the clones formed a circle around Sakon, starting with Kyubi and ending with me.

"What…? You… you're not a shadow clone! Who the hell are you?!"

I didn't need to answer. Sakon was smarter than Jirobo. He figured it out on his own.

"You… Orochimaru-sama told me about you. But it can't… you were supposed to be…"

"Supposed to be what?" I asked. "Weak?"

Behind me, I heard Sakura gasp and Shikamaru ask what was happening. The chakra from the clones bathed the trees and leaves in red; it reflected in our forehead protectors, in the kunai we held. It was a beautiful feeling. All that power.

I laughed and shook my head.

"Well," I said. "Kill him."

Sakon screamed as the clones swarmed him. Screamed when he felt their blows. They echoed through the forest, one after another, locked into a strange rhythm. Hundreds of punches made music with his body, and while I reveled in the melody, my teammates recoiled in horror. I turned to see Sakura covering her face with her hands. Shikamaru, though, didn't look away. He held his breath, watching everything. And in his eyes, when he looked at me, I saw fear. The same fear I'd see in the eyes of others for the rest of my life, until I'd grow sick of it.

But at that moment—I enjoyed it.

Desperate, Sakon fought back. He defended himself better than I expected from a terrified ninja, and managed to take down most of the clones before succumbing to his injuries and the pain. He dropped to one knee, then rose again. He counterattacked, and countered again—and finally, with a roar, leapt onto the last clone and pummeled it into dust.

There he was, collapsed on the ground, exhausted and bleeding, in front of us.

"I… told you!" he panted. "No one…! No one can…!"

I heard Kyubi chuckle under his breath. He walked up to him, calm, hands clasped behind his back. He stopped to look at him. He seemed intrigued. Sakon raised his gaze to him, his demonic face soaked in sweat and blood.

"I'll kill you too," he said.

The clone raised an eyebrow. Then he placed his sandal on Sakon's head and slammed it into the dirt with a stomp.

"Worms like you should be looking down," he said.

"What are you doing, Naruto?!" shouted Sakura. "This isn't like you!"

Sakon reached out desperately and grabbed the clone's leg at the ankle. And something happened—something I had never seen before, and never would again. With a sudden motion, Sakon yanked the leg aside and hurled himself into the clone's torso… sinking inside it the same way Ukon had emerged from his body earlier.

Kyubi's eyes widened in surprise as Sakon's head burst out of his shoulder, grinning at him.

"I've got you now! Your body and mine are one! I'll kill you from the inside like—!"
He stopped when Kyubi began laughing aloud.

"One, you say?" He still held the kunai in his hand. I knew what he was about to do before he did it—and I think Sakon did too. "Poor fool. Watch this."

With a single slash, he cut his own throat.

The shadow clone collapsed with a heavy thud—and vanished. Sakon fell beside him, completely out of breath. He had managed to escape at the last second, saving his life, but the transformation had ended.

He looked human again.

I heard Kyubi's voice in my mind.

"It's time you end this."

I started walking toward Sakon and extended my right hand to the side, forming a Rasengan.

Sakon didn't even look at me. He was sitting on the ground, shoulders slumped, head bowed. He had no strength or will left to fight.

"Do it," he said. "Just get it over with."

Someone grabbed my left arm. It was Sakura, with Shikamaru leaning on her shoulder.

"That's enough. You've beaten him. You don't have to kill him."

"Don't be a hypocrite," Sakon croaked. "You tried to slit my throat yourself. This is what we ninjas do: we kill each other. It's always been that way. Your jinchuriki friend knows it—just look at him."

"Jinchu…riki?"

She knew the word. But I never thought I'd hear it like that—from his mouth. Like it was some kind of curse.

I looked at the two of them, letting the Rasengan dissolve in my hand. Shikamaru looked shaken, too. Him as well...? For a moment, my resolve faltered. What if they found out what I really was? They had seen me fight. Seen how I had... changed. In Sakura's eyes, there was fear, like there had been in Shikamaru's before.

But this time, there was no satisfaction. No pleasure.

Like a mirror, my heart reflected the fear she felt—and transformed it into something else: the fear that my true identity would be revealed. That they would look inside me and see the same abyss I had already come to know.

That terror showed on my face, and everyone could see it. Even Sakon.

"So you didn't know…" he muttered. "Well, here's a parting gift. Your friend… this boy beside you… Want me to tell you who he really is?"

A buzzing started in my ears.

"Kill him. Now."

Chakra began to gather in my right hand again when I remembered the way Jirobo's decapitated body had dropped to the ground—limp, incomplete, like a puppet discarded by its master.

The fox told me—insisted—that I had to do it.

But I couldn't.

The buzzing continued, muffling every other sound. I felt its vibration in my chest.

"I'll tell you who he is," Sakon said. "He's the vessel of—"

He had opened his mouth wide to scream.

So when the swarm surrounded him, thousands of insects flew straight into it, filling it completely. With a look of terror, Sakon disappeared inside a mass of insects that engulfed his body.

And then, all at once, thousands of stingers pierced his flesh.

And I understood that—even if I hadn't delivered the killing blow—
I had crossed a line I would never come back from.

The swarm took human shape—Shino. He carried the red-haired kunoichi over his shoulder. Unharmed, except for a smear of dried blood on his cheek. He didn't flinch at the sight of us, or when Sakon's body collapsed to the side, skin riddled with stinger marks.

Shino looked at me from behind his tinted glasses.

Why had he done it?

Did he do it for the mission… or for me?

Chapter Text

Once, Iruka Umino—our teacher at the Academy—stood before the blackboard and, in a solemn tone, announced to the class:

"Today, we're going to talk about death."

We were children, and the only thing we knew about it was what the textbooks said. We had no idea that a ninja forms a closer bond with death than with life—and that life, more often than not, is simply the space between two killings.

Iruka explained that sometimes we would be forced to make the difficult decision to end an enemy's life. But the truth is, that decision is neither difficult nor rare. Ninjas live to kill and kill to live. That's our job—they train us for it.

Of course, realizing this takes a certain amount of experience. A shinobi starts by shedding sweat, not blood. My first missions were meaningless errands. Until the mission in the Land of Waves went wrong. That's when I slammed headfirst into reality—and reality wanted me dead.

Zabuza's bloodlust was the first piece of the puzzle. Then came Orochimaru's inhuman coldness, Gaara's madness, soaked in pain, the abyss I glimpsed inside Kabuto. By the time I went after Sasuke, I was only missing a few pieces.

And I had just found one more.

Covered in stings, Sakon lay among us, his mouth frozen in a scream that would never end. An insect crawled out from inside his cheek. It looked like a wasp, but no wasp was that big. Slowly, it climbed up to Sakon's eyebrow and drove its stinger into the corner of his eye; a purple drop emerged from the wound, like a tear.

"A disgusting way to die," said Kyubi. I nodded absentmindedly, digging inside myself in search of compassion—but found only relief. My secret was still safe.

"If not for Shino, they would've found out."

He had protected me. But why? Ninjas kill for secrets, yet this one wasn't his. What mattered to him so much—what did he stand to gain? I tried to read his thoughts, but as always, Shino's expression gave nothing away.

"For heaven's sake… you killed him. I was hoping we could get some information out of him." Limping, Shikamaru approached Sakon's body and sighed. "But I guess it's too late now."

He crouched beside the corpse, examining it closely. The wasps buzzed around without harming us. Shikamaru shook his head and stood up with Sakura's help.

"He got what he deserved," she said. I remembered how much she had hesitated when she had the chance to slice Sakon's throat. Unlike her, Shino had made his choice in a fraction of a second.

What would I have done in his place? The image of Jirobo's face after taking a Rasengan answered that question for me.

Lost in thought, Shikamaru pinched one of his earrings between his fingers.

"Anyway," he said, "if we have to, we'll interrogate her."

We all looked at the kunoichi hanging upside down over Shino's shoulder. He told us he had paralyzed her with a special poison—that his abilities had nullified hers. He showed us a flute packed full of insects, crawling through every hole.

"Auditory genjutsu needs sound," he said. "Once you understand that, countering it is fairly simple. Shutting her up was harder. I was going to leave her conscious for questioning, but she wouldn't stop screaming at me. She's… very resourceful."

For a moment, Shino sounded tired.

"So I had to give her another dose. The poison is basically a sedative; she won't wake up until tomorrow, at best—unless I give her the antidote."

Then he told us about Hinata. His insects had been searching, but she was nowhere nearby. At least not close. There was a trail heading north, toward the valley. It was our only lead, so we decided to follow it.

We left Sakon and Ukon where they lay and moved on. Our formation now had gaping holes. Without Hinata's eyes, all reconnaissance fell on Shino. He had sent swarms out through the forest, but it grew denser the farther we went. The tree canopy blocked entire patches of sky. The path was dark. We moved through shadows that bled into each other. Each one was blacker than the last, and any of them could be hiding an enemy. Staying alert the whole time was exhausting.

For most of the way, we moved in silence—except for Shikamaru's increasingly labored breathing, doing his best to keep up.

"He's too slow," Kyubi read my thoughts. "Too slow to make it in time. But you… you're fast. Leave them behind. You don't need them."

I leapt from branch to branch, pulling ahead of the others. Maybe the Fox was right. The Sound ninjas had already delayed us, and there was no guarantee Sasuke was still in the Land of Fire. Tsunade had ordered us not to cross the valley—and I knew that, if it came to it, I would disobey.

Was that a position I could afford to be in? Absolutely not. I picked up speed. I was ten, maybe twenty meters ahead of the team, and I heard them calling my name. They were speeding up too, but they wouldn't catch me. I moved faster. The forest blurred around me, turning into an indistinct smear of green and shadow…

Meanwhile, Kyubi whispered in my ear:

"You won't deny they make excellent hostages… the last Uchiha, and the Hyuga princess. The two most coveted kekkei genkai in the Leaf's arsenal—now in the hands of the Sound. It won't be long before they rip them out. And after that… no one needs a blind ninja."

I pushed harder. The forest swallowed my team and their voices; I was alone, but it didn't matter. I knew I could do this alone. It was better this way. I was stronger than all of them—I had taken down two of the Sound Four with ease. Even their transformations weren't a match for me. With the kunoichi out of the fight, only Kidomaru remained.

Neither he nor his webs would stop me. I would find him—and when I did, I'd crush him under my sandal like a filthy spider.

I blinked, suddenly aware of myself. My chest was burning and I hadn't even realized. Muttering a curse, I leapt toward the nearest branch—only for it to snap beneath me, sending me plummeting through the trees.

I was high off the ground. I saw it rushing toward me at terrifying speed—until a hand grabbed mine and left me dangling in midair.

"What would you do without me…"

Judging by the tone, the clone must've been smiling, but his face was hidden in shadow. Standing on the branch, the only thing I could see was his gleaming red eyes.

"You're lucky I decided to look after you."

Behind us, the leaves whispered. The others were catching up. I let go of the clone's hand—but he didn't let go of mine. His grip was iron. He pulled me up like I weighed nothing, and would've hoisted me onto the branch—if not for the arrow.

It came out of nowhere. By the time we heard the whistle, it was already too late. Hanging like that, I was the perfect target: the arrow pierced through my back on a diagonal path and exited through my stomach, tearing through everything in between and lodging deep in the tree trunk.

The agony was unreal. I screamed. Another arrow whistled through the air—but my body no longer responded. My thoughts spilled like water from a shattered cup.

I lost consciousness. And as everything turned black, I heard a roar—half man, half beast—ripping the air in two from here to the valley.

The hand that held me let go. And then, the clone's chakra exploded outward like a shockwave, slamming me into the ground and stealing what little consciousness I had left.

Death.

That was the word our teacher had written on the blackboard. In wide strokes of chalk, all across the board, as if trying to prove some kind of point.

The classroom was empty, and the clock no longer told the time.

I didn't remember coming back to the Academy. When was the last time I even set foot in this place?

I stood and walked down the steps toward the front of the classroom. The teacher kept writing, oblivious to my presence. To my left, covering most of the wall, was a large window through which I could see a moonlit forest. There were people fighting in the trees—people I knew. But for the life of me, I couldn't remember who they were.

The sound of chalk stopped. Without turning around, the teacher spoke to me.

"You know, you really did me a favor by leaving your team behind. If you hadn't, I might've actually had to try. Honestly, the credit's all yours! Just dangling from that branch… If you wanted me to shoot you so badly, you could've just asked."

That voice wasn't Iruka's, like I had expected. It was different—dripping with sarcasm, something Iruka would never use.

I understood immediately. This wasn't my teacher. He wasn't even from the Leaf. His hairstyle vaguely resembled Iruka's, but that's where the similarities ended. This young man had six arms like a spider, and a Sound Village headband across his forehead.

Suddenly, it all came back to me. How I'd gotten there. Everything that had happened. The name of the ninja standing in front of me.

The arrow that had torn through my insides.

"You—!"

I tried to speak, but the sound that left my throat wasn't a voice—it was a growl. I saw Kidomaru's grin widen. His skin was marked with dark, intricate symbols—similar to Sasuke's.

"So, you took down Jirobo and the twins. Scary stuff. Really, I mean it. You're way stronger than you look. All that chakra… nothing like that little girl from before. She fought, sure—but in the end, it was only a matter of time."

Hands on his hips, he leaned over me, and in an instant, I was no longer standing—I was lying in wet grass. And we weren't in a classroom anymore—we were in the forest.

He was standing over me, one foot on either side of my body, laughing.

"Thanks for making this so easy," he said. "Really. You even got rid of that terrifying clone. I wasn't looking forward to dealing with that thing. Oh…!"

He lifted a finger.

"I should give you something in return. Wouldn't be polite otherwise, right? Let's see… I've got it. I'll tell you the last thing your little friend said before I shot her. Get ready—because you're gonna love this."

A dramatic pause...

"She said your name!" he announced, clapping his hands. "Isn't that just precious? In her final moment, she didn't cry out for her dad or her mom…"—his voice softened, mocking me—"she said yours. Thought you'd come to save her."

He clicked his tongue in mock disappointment.

"No time to waste, so I'll give you the end of the story..."

A wicked gleam lit his eyes. He bent down and picked up something from the ground. A longbow—already nocked with an arrow. He drew it back.

"…you didn't," he said, winking. And fired.

Kidomaru's figure faded into the same black that was swallowing everything else. I could still hear things. I heard my name. The familiar clashing of metal on metal; something huge breaking apart and crashing down.

Then, warmth on my right cheek. Blood spilling across it, followed by a pain I could register—but it was nothing compared to the agony in my stomach. That burned. It throbbed like a second heart, though really, it was an absence. A tunnel punched clean through me.

I didn't know how I was still alive. I didn't even know if I was.

I tried to call for help. "Ky… Kyu…" How did it go again? The syllables slipped through my fingers like sand. I knew there was someone who could help me—and that this someone had a name—but I couldn't remember either.

My thoughts were mud, and while wading through them I felt pressure on my chest, then on my stomach. Cold, urgent hands cupped my face, tore through my kimono, hesitated at the sight of my wounds.

"Oh my God. Naruto. Oh my God. Oh God, Naruto."

She might've sounded like she was on the verge of tears, but Sakura was a true kunoichi. She didn't hesitate for even a second. The palms that pressed against me were steady, focused, wrapped in healing chakra. The relief was instant—and as lightning surged through my body, I opened my eyes and drew in a ragged breath.

I rose from the dark.

The first thing I saw was a bow aimed at me, though there was no arrow on the string. Kidomaru held it—two arms drawn back as if he had just fired. His entire body was trembling. His arms, his torso, even his jaw. He was trying to break free. But it was impossible.

Someone had his shadow pinned.

"Quick...! Get him out of there before I pass out!"

Shikamaru held a hand sign as if his life depended on it. He was the picture of strain, and still, it wasn't going to be enough. Exhausted, injured, and outmatched, the Nara was crumbling by the second. "He won't hold on," I thought, now that my mind was clearer. "And Sakura won't either."

An amateur medic-nin with a beginner's technique couldn't possibly heal a wound that serious.

It was like trying to fill a pond with a drinking glass. Sakura would run out of strength long before the healing had any real effect. And even if she didn't, they'd reach us first.

I'd seen them—up in the branches. Black-clad ninja with black masks, fighting off clouds of insects. They passed over us like shadows, chased by hundreds of wasps like the ones that had finished off Sakon. There were many of them. Shino was only one.

"You're going to be okay. I'll heal you. Naruto. Look at me. I'm going to save you."

A large swarm crushed two Sound ninja against a tree, and as the insects flooded over the trunk like a tidal wave, Sakura doubled down, and for a moment, I felt her jutsu actually working. The pain began to dull, and I was finally able to speak.

"Sa... kura... I..."

"Don't talk, idiot," she said. A small smile flashed on her lips. "You'll be fine. You'll see. You will."

I think, in that moment, she was speaking more to herself.

I propped myself up on my elbows and looked. Beneath Sakura's outstretched palms, I saw the mangled red mess that was my stomach. Luckily, I was still too out of it to feel panic. I swallowed hard. I would've killed someone for a single drop of water.

"Sakura! Hurry up! I can't hold him much longer!"

"I'm trying!"

The Kagemane no Jutsu required a stamina Shikamaru no longer had. The shadow frayed much faster than it had during the fight with Sakon; this time, Kidomaru broke free one arm at a time. First one. Then the second. Then the third. The weaker the shadow became, the more strength he regained.

"Sorry, guys, but the party's over!"

"Get him out of there, damn it!" Shikamaru shouted.

"I'm on it! Just a little more!"

Another pull. The fourth arm.

"SAKURA! Do it now!"

The fifth and sixth arms broke loose at once. A wicked grin spread across Kidomaru's face just before he lunged toward us...

...but then came the swarm.

The largest I'd ever seen. Thousands upon thousands of insects buzzing at once, streaming past us in endless succession. There were so many—and so black—that it was like going blind. Everything went dark. I felt Sakura shield me with her body, and I pulled her into me, hard, enduring the stab of pain that tore through my chest as I moved.

It was over in seconds. The insects returned to their master. And their master had fallen.

At that moment, I didn't know he'd done it to protect me. I just saw him fall from a branch and hit the ground. The Sound ninja swarmed him a second later, all of them bloodthirsty.

I gasped. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the arrow that had missed me. It was lodged in the dirt, just inches from where my cheek had been. I wrenched it out of the ground, ready to use it against anyone who got close.

I was tired, drained. The pain was like nothing I'd ever felt—only once before had it come close. I could barely think, and that's why I did it. That's why I lashed out at the person next to me. To protect myself. To protect her. Because no one else would. Kyubi was silent. His chakra rose from my stomach in red wisps, but that was the only sign he was even there.

Desperate, I didn't notice the swirl of leaves.

I saw legs—and I stabbed them with the arrow. If they killed me, I'd take one down with me. But I was slow, and a hand caught my wrist. Firm—but gentle, in a way no enemy's ever would be.

"It's okay. Naruto. It's okay. It's me."

Crouched beside me was Rock Lee, his black eyes wide and locked on mine. He tried to smile, but it looked shakier than usual.

"We're here to help," he said, glancing to the side—at another ninja. And that ninja was Neji.

I'd never seen him like that.

The composed Neji, red with fury. The veins of his Byakugan flushed crimson. His long hair whipping in the air, stirred by the chakra pouring from him. It was the first time I'd ever seen a Hyuga clench their fists. In his rage, Neji forgot everything. His training, his lineage, the techniques he'd honed all his life. All of it vanished in an instant—because he knew. He knew Kidomaru had hurt Hinata; and he knew because Kidomaru had told him himself.

"Well, if it isn't little brother," Kidomaru chuckled. "Shame... you're too late. All of you are too late. She's already gone. But don't worry! Once we're done with her, we'll send her back. Though don't blame us if she doesn't arrive in one piece. How about in chunks?"

A laugh. Then a sharper one. Neji didn't reply. He stared at Kidomaru with such intensity he might've melted him on the spot. To our left, a rain of shuriken fell on the other Sound ninja, and Tenten lifted Shino onto her back. I realized the red-haired kunoichi was nowhere to be seen.

"Come on, get mad! Don't be boring!" Kidomaru stepped back, one foot at a time, eyeing all of us with those black, malicious eyes. The curse mark symbols writhed and spread across his skin. "What, you don't wanna kill me? You don't want to? After what I did to your little friend? Want me to tell you? Want to hear how it happened? Let's see..." His eyes widened. "I started by catching her in a web—"

He was fast. Way faster than Kidomaru expected. No words. No warning. No sign. Neji appeared in front of him, attack already prepared. I recognized the stance, the technique. But something was different. Something fundamental.

"Eight Trigrams: One Hundred Twenty-Eight Palms."

The first strike set the pace. The rest followed like a torrential downpour. The storm of hits Neji unleashed on Kidomaru was far too brutal to be a traditional Hyuga technique. Gentle Fist is soft—like snow falling. But here, every strike sounded sharp, stacked over one another at superhuman speed—like they were all landing at once.

I knew before the technique ended. Before Kidomaru collapsed onto his back like a broken puppet. When it was over, Neji was gasping for air. Blood dripped from his knuckles. He'd delivered all 128 strikes with closed fists.

Chapter Text

Neji reminded me of Sasuke, especially at first. Both of them had bad tempers and looked at you like you were worth less than the dirt on their sandals. Both were considered geniuses and possessed legendary kekkei genkai. Both had complicated pasts.

At first, I thought the only difference between them was that Neji had a bigger stick up his ass. I was wrong. When we faced off during the exams, I saw a side of him I hadn't known before, and I realized I'd judged him too quickly. Neji wasn't a bad guy. He was, in fact, the perfect example of what a Hyuga should be: disciplined, loyal, strong… his only mistake was being born into the wrong branch of the family. Sometimes, the game is rigged from the start, and all we can do is keep playing, whether we like it or not.

I knew that well.

In the forest, when he unleashed his fury on Kidomaru, I understood that it was real, and that the cold mask he wore was just that: a mask. He cared about Hinata. Enough to lose control of himself.

As Neji caught his breath, his knuckles still stained with blood, I wondered what he was thinking. It was hard to tell. When he turned to us, I saw something written on his face—something I couldn't read.

Was he confused, dazed? Did he regret what he had just done? Looking back, I think he felt lost. But the only one who seemed to understand that at the time was Lee. The rest of us just looked at each other, too overwhelmed to speak.

Until we heard it.

Tenten screamed.

Her shriek shattered the silence as a katana slashed through her. One of the ninjas she was holding off had struck her from behind.

"TENTEN!"

Who shouted her name? Shikamaru? Neji? I don't know. It all happened too fast. One moment the sword was flashing through the air, and the next she was losing her balance, surrounded by enemies. All of them dressed in black, all wearing those masks like the ANBU used—but blank, undecorated. Who were they? They wore no forehead protectors, no recognizable uniforms like the Sound ninja had during the invasion. It was as if they wanted to hide where they came from. As if...

There was no time to figure it out.

"Back!" Shino shouted, but the swarm that came from his sleeves was as small as the strength he had left. It was two of them against twenty ninja.

They weren't going to make it.

But then, a green blur flew past my eyes, and I knew Tsunade had kept her promise. Gaara's sand had turned Lee's bones into something like itself. An arm and a leg, lost forever. That's what the doctors had said. That's what we had all believed.

They didn't call her the greatest medical ninja for nothing.

"Out of the way!"

Rock Lee tore through them like an arrow. The black-clad ninjas didn't know what hit them until it was too late. Suddenly, the green blur became a storm of fists and kicks that sowed chaos among the enemy. Blows flew everywhere and in every direction. A punch crushed a nose. A knee shattered a sternum. A spinning kick took out three ninjas at once.

"Leaf Hurricane!" Lee shouted, landing lightly on the grass. Behind him, a ninja raised a bloodstained katana over his head and, aiming at Lee's back, prepared to strike.

"Lee! Watch out!"

A trail of blood stained the grass.

His.

The ninja fell to his knees with the katana still in hand and his back riddled with kunai. Tenten had thrown them all at once, with a skill only she possessed. The man collapsed face down, the kunai sticking out of him like thorns.

Lee and Tenten exchanged a smile before the ninjas charged again, swallowing them in a frenzy of bodies and black masks.

We had our own problems.

The black-clad ninjas began to appear from everywhere. They emerged from the leaves of the trees, descended from the branches, rose from the shadows as if they were part of them. How many were there—thirty, forty? It was hard to count when you had a hole in your gut. I tried to get up, but the pain screamed through me and made my head spin.

"Kyubi! Where the hell are you?! We need you!" I thought, but there was no response. The ninjas surrounded us. Not one of them said a word. Only the sound of their footsteps, like a handful of needles tapping on wood.

I could hear Tenten and Lee fighting. Even if they won, they wouldn't make it in time to help us. Sakura murmured an apology, and dispelling her healing jutsu, stood up with a kunai gripped in reverse.

With me out of commission, and Shikamaru injured, only Neji and she remained.

The scale was tipped against us—and on the other side of it stood death.

Kidomaru knew it too. He was still lying on the grass, too wounded to move. But he could still laugh.

"You should've killed me… now you'll be the one who—"

We heard him choke on his own words. Kidomaru began to cough, and that nasty, wet sound was the start of it all.

The ninjas came at us.

My memories of the fight are blurry. I remember someone shouting something, and my name was among the words. I remember Neji spinning on himself and releasing chakra in the form of a dome. The enemies couldn't break through. Some slammed into it and were hurled back into the trees. It gave us a few seconds to think. We tried to regroup, but they attacked before we could.

Enemies everywhere I looked. Fast and black as shadows. Kunai flashing, shuriken whistling through the air; several embedded themselves near my leg. I saw Sakura deflect ninja tools that would've hit me otherwise. Shikamaru immobilized three ninjas at once with his shadow, only for it to break moments later, having done nothing but stall them. Neji was blocking attacks from all directions. Taking down one, two, five ninjas in rapid succession… barely dodging a massive boulder that almost squashed him like a fly.

The earth-style user was big and muscular like Jirobo had been, but Neji sprinted straight at him and took him down with a flurry of incredibly fast strikes.

He was strong, but he was alone. He wasn't going to last. The only reason he hadn't fallen yet was because his Byakugan saw every threat approaching, no matter the direction. That way he could avoid them—barely.

The rest of us didn't have that advantage.

The first to fall was Shikamaru. As injured as he was, he could barely defend himself. I saw him take blow after blow until one finally sent him flying into a nearby tree. Next was Sakura. She had managed to immobilize one of the ninjas, small and thin, with a genjutsu, and just like with Sakon, she had a blade to their throat. This time, she didn't hesitate. The blade slid across, and the ninja dropped to the ground with a thud that knocked their mask loose, revealing the face of a young girl with green eyes.

She couldn't have been more than ten. The image twisted something inside me—and froze Sakura where she stood.

There were no tears in her eyes, but there was a void deeper than the forest around us.

When the girl got back up and lunged at Sakura, she didn't react. Didn't she feel pain? The girl began hitting her—without a sound. Each strike was precise, methodical, practiced. She might have been small, but her strength was that of a kunoichi. Still in shock, Sakura didn't respond. I tried to get up, shouted her name, but the pain made my head spin again...

"Kyubi! Goddamn it!"

The girl reached her limit and collapsed to one side. She didn't move again. I saw Sakura slowly rise to her feet, her gaze still lost, even in the middle of this critical moment.

In the distance, Shikamaru lay motionless. Neji was starting to take hits and cuts—superficial for now, but soon they wouldn't be. He was getting tired. Now the ninjas focused on him, but once he fell, they'd come for us—and then...

"If you won't help me, I'll do it myself."

I gathered every drop of chakra I could. It wasn't much. I kept digging, scraping for every ounce, every sliver of power left in my body. My vision blurred from the strain, and the world began to spin. It wasn't enough. I searched deeper. Far ahead, Neji fell, then leapt back up, fast as lightning. The brute, the earth-style user, rose again too. These ninjas fought with terrifying ferocity—with an abandon that went beyond duty. They took hits without even trying to block them if it meant landing one on Neji—and little by little, they were succeeding.

"Come on... Naruto… damn it… they need you… get up…"

I felt blood in my mouth and throat. Agony in my stomach. I felt my consciousness flicker—fade, then return. And the chakra kept building. Thicker, denser, heavier. Neji fell again, and this time got up more slowly. A massive stone came down on him, and he blocked it with a half-formed Kaiten—more impulse than technique. The impact threw him off balance, and a kunai nearly hit him, but Sakura deflected it with her own.

"It's… the last one," she told me, touching an empty tool pouch. Her green eyes looked at me, but they seemed miles away. Realizing what I was doing, she ran toward me—but two ninjas blocked her path. Sakura took a defensive stance and blocked their blows. She took a punch to the face, landed one of her own, dodged a kunai that nearly slashed her chest. Then another ninja knocked her down with a kick to the back, and when she got up, another grabbed her throat with a gloved hand.

"Come on! Get up! Do it!"

The power I needed was there. I knew it was. Even if Kyubi didn't want to give it to me—even if he was ignoring me at my most desperate—his power was still there! It was as much a part of my body as it was his, and it always had been. If he wasn't going to give it to me...

"If you won't give it to me..."

I remembered our conversation in the garden. The shadow clone's hand reaching for the moon. What had he said? "From now on, if you want something, all you have to do is take it."

The ninja's hands began to squeeze Sakura's throat. I had to do it. Now. I couldn't fail. I reached into the deepest part of myself, and once there, I pushed past it to see what lay underneath. I saw a void. I saw fire. A woman with red hair. I saw a cage above a lake of black water.

I saw Sakura's eyes turn white, like a Hyuga's. I saw Neji fall once, and then again—and this time, he didn't get back up.

There was no time. And there would be no other chance.

In the depths of my being, I walked up to the great cage that had once been Kyubi's home, and grabbing the cold metal with my bare hands, I forced it open.

Inside, there was darkness—but it belonged to me.

In my inner world, I stepped into the cage—while outside, I stood up.

Chapter Text

When I was a child, I ran away from the orphanage because I couldn't bear being seen as a monster. It wasn't just the other kids—it was the adults too, especially them. They hated me without ever saying why. They knew my secret, and even though they kept it hidden, they made no effort to hide what they thought of the boy with the fox inside. That was the hardest part: knowing there was something wrong with me, but not knowing what it was. I got used to it over time, but by then, the orphanage had already become another ghost in my memory.

The Fox knew it. That's why he chose to remind me of the day we met. That snowy night when, in the form of a child with my same face, he reminded me I wasn't alone.

"I heard you're a monster," he said. I remember his words stung like needles. I was about to lower my gaze when I saw him smile. He had a strange way of doing it, as if he wasn't used to such a gesture. "Don't worry, they say the same about me. Don't pay attention to their words, Naruto—no more than you would to the grunting of a pig. They're fools, all of them. Empty souls in hollow flesh."

"Uh… why do you have my face?"

"Because the rest disgusts me. And because, even if you don't understand it yet, we're in this together. Now get up. The ground is for worms. Are you a worm, Naruto?"

"Huh? A worm?"

Kyubi smiled again. It looked like he was forcing the corners of his mouth up with his fingers. I remember feeling a chill. One I would feel many more times. Even then, his breath reeked of barely hidden hunger. But when he offered me his hand, and I took it, it felt warm—warmer than almost anything I'd ever known.

That time, he helped me to my feet.

This time, I rose on my own.

The white forest of my memories turned into the deep green that now surrounded me. The countless leaves, dark and dense, stirred in a breeze that only grew stronger. I heard them whisper. Soon, the breeze became wind, and the wind became a small storm of which I was the epicenter. The leaves no longer rustled—they tore free and fell to the ground. The wood groaned. Waves of wind brushed through the grass and battered the clothes of the black-clad shinobi with such violence that the fight came to a sudden stop.

All the masks turned toward me at once, like machines.

They looked for me—but I was no longer there.

I appeared next to Sakura and placed my hand on the chest of the one choking her.

"Rasengan."

The aura flashed red at the level of his heart. I felt the sphere drill through his chest, turn it to dust; I felt his hands lose all strength and slip from Sakura's neck. Then, he too fell to the ground, and that was that.

I released the technique and lifted Sakura into my arms. She was still conscious. The relief I felt quickly turned into something else when I noticed the finger-shaped marks on her neck. The violet bruises formed an irregular collar. Some bled beneath the skin. And still, she bore the pain almost without showing it.

Anger ran through me like electricity. I pulled her close, and she opened her eyes.

"Na… Naruto…"

Through the tear in my kimono, right over my chest, I felt her fingertips against my skin. Sakura touched my scar with the palm of her hand, and my heart pounded hard against it.

"You're… burning…"

Half-conscious, Sakura traced my scar with her hand, and I thought that if anyone ever hurt her again, I would destroy them without hesitation.

"Sakura, you've done enough. Let me finish this."

The attackers surrounded us. They drew their weapons. Prepared to kill.

A thirst for blood rose through the forest, and it belonged to all of them. It was intense but impersonal; absolute, yet mechanical—like the rage of a spider.

What difference was there between these shinobi and Shino's insects? Judging by the way they moved, maybe not much.

They didn't speak. They didn't move. The whole forest seemed to hold its breath.

And then, as one, they advanced.

One step. Another. A pause. And suddenly, they lunged at us. From all directions, without warning or any sign of communication between them. They were many, but they were also one. They surrounded us like an unstoppable infestation.

Figures in black, with flashing, sharpened blades. Shadows running, others leaping, in every direction. They weren't a squad—they were a swarm.

The swarm consumed everything.

And it reached us.

A black mass of arms, legs, and sharp blades filled the space where Sakura and I had stood just a moment before.

Twenty or thirty meters away now. A fair distance for a single dash.

I looked at them from afar as I set Sakura down next to Neji, who, stubborn as always, had gotten back on his feet despite his injuries.

She staggered until the Hyuga slung her arm over his shoulder, piercing me with his Byakugan—both figuratively and literally.

Neji could see inside me, and judging by how I felt, I was probably glowing red. I'm sure he had questions, but he didn't ask any. Instead, he turned his gaze toward the black-clad shinobi, whose masks had turned back toward us—all at the same time.

"Can you handle them?" he asked.

The shinobi charged. They didn't move like genin, or even like chunin. They were faster, more disciplined than any of them. And the way they coordinated... I had never seen a squad that thought as one.

I looked at their swords, their daggers, their kunai. Then back at him.

"Take care of her. I won't be long."

Blood trickled from the corner of Neji's mouth, so when he smiled—a discreet twitch, the closest thing to a grin someone like him could muster—a drop of blood slipped down to his chin. It clung to his skin, dark red like life itself.

A second later, I was gone.

I suppose that's how it looked from his point of view. And I suppose for my enemies, I simply appeared among them—like some kind of ghost. It took them a few moments to understand what had happened, and by then, two were already down. I caught one face in each hand and slammed them into the ground, using the momentum of my sprint. The earth shook. The masks shattered. And the rest, who were still rushing toward Neji, stopped in their tracks and leapt at me instead.

They moved as if they didn't need to think. No hesitation in their strikes—every blow aimed for a vital point. The hits came from every direction. Fists, kicks, blades. I dodged them all. And the ones I didn't, I blocked effortlessly.

One blade snapped against my aura-wrapped forearm; a leg struck my knee and bent the wrong way. A kunai grazed my throat. Another aimed for my back; the steel crumbled like ash when I caught it mid-air.

Suddenly, I turned to the ninja who had wielded it and dropped him with a single blow. Another took his place. A dagger in each hand—he was skilled. The blades became a storm that joined the rest. I dodged, dodged again, and then he cut me—twice. The wounds closed almost as fast as they opened. Dodge, block, strike. Two crossed daggers blocked my punch; they broke, I pierced through his guard and shattered his mask too.

An older man, around sixty, fell back with blood dripping from his nose and eyes that reflected nothing.

"You guys..." I said, catching a punch mid-air and crushing it in my grip, "who the hell are you?!"

I felt a sword slice across my back. Sharp pain. I spun around, but the ninja had already retreated a few meters. The others charged—but it was a feint. They pulled back again. I looked at the one with the sword; he was forming hand seals. Fast. Very fast.

Dog. Snake. Rat. Snake. Dog. Horse. Dragon. Ram.

He held the last seal for a moment before unleashing it. A wind technique. The ninja blew, and his breath shaped into a tornado that shot toward me at high speed. And the others? They were forming seals too. Lots of them. I glanced sideways.

Hare. Tiger. Monkey. Snake. Dog. Dragon. Monkey. Snake.

Those on my left. The ones on the right were different. Ox. Dragon. Boar. Horse. Dog. Ram. Dog.

I didn't wait to see the rest. I could already see the flames some of them were preparing. The gusts from others. I had seen the kunai they had embedded at my feet, all of them wrapped in handfuls of explosive tags. The paper had nearly burned out completely, and the tornado, rising in front of me like a giant, whipped my clothes and hair violently, dragging me toward it with the force of its spin...

With one hand, I tore off what was left of the upper part of my kimono and tossed it aside. Flames to the left. Wind to the right. A tornado ahead. An explosion brewing beneath my feet. I clenched my teeth into a grin that had a life of its own.

"Come on, then! I'll crush you all!" I roared, wreathed in flames.

The jutsus collided at the exact moment the explosive tags fully ignited.

And then—fire.

Thick flames beneath black smoke. The forest was burning, with me in the middle.

Charred trees. Blackened wood. More smoke, rising in clouds the same color as the ones that covered the sky. And ashes floating in the air, still burning. And the smell of fire. Breathing burned. Breathing was almost impossible. The air was more smoke than air. Looking through it, I felt blind.

None of the flames had managed to reach me.

I stood, and chaos surrounded me. I saw blackened earth. Masks just as dark, searching for me in that desolate landscape. Finding me.

I saw their weapons rise again; the fire reflected off their blades as if they had just come from the forge. I heard their footsteps in the ash. And for the first time, their breathing—heavy, strained. So they had to breathe too.

They would stop soon.

I looked at my hands: they had changed. My nails were sharp now; the aura that usually looked like mist now wrapped around me like a cloak, from whose edges escaped red tendrils, thick, floating, like bubbling blood.

A red armor. My armor.

The fire couldn't pierce it. And when a barrage of shuriken came at me from behind, I knew steel couldn't either. The ninja stars stopped in midair, caught in the aura, then fell with a metallic clink.

The chakra rose and rose like the flames themselves. Some fragments broke off from it; I saw them from the corner of my eye, floating in the air, like crimson tentacles.

I didn't understand, until I saw my shadow cast by the fire, that the shapes floating behind me were, in fact, the tails of a demon fox.

Slowly, the world blurred like a fogged-up mirror. When it cleared again, I saw a ninja in front of me. He wore a mask, but it was split in half. I saw a murderous glare in a gentle face. A look that trembled as it rose to the ninjas hanging from the tails wrapped around their necks, meters above the ground.

I caught myself in the middle of a sentence:

"... it's not that you don't feel pain, it's that you hide it, right? Like fear."

His upper lip trembled. I was right, of course. Beside us, a flame surged violently, roaring high above our heads.

He stepped back. Picked up a sword from the ground, gripping it with both hands and pointing it at me. His shoulders rose and fell with heavy breathing.

I heard the footsteps of the twenty or so attackers still alive. Their black clothes, stained with blood and soot, blended with the smoke we breathed.

I smiled, spreading the tails. The bodies fell like rotten fruit from branches.

I had learned to move them since they first appeared, just like one knows how to use their arms without anyone teaching them.

I raised my voice to address them all.

"I don't know who you are, or who sent you, but," I said, scanning them with my eyes, "you do know who I am. What I am. And you"—I pointed at the one holding the sword—"your legs are trembling. I can hear your heartbeat. You are afraid. I know the rest of you are too."

Silence. The clink of metal. A deep breath.

They advanced, all at once, tightening the circle.

"Still, you are not running," I said. I stepped up to him and caught the tip of his sword between my index finger and thumb; the blade trembled under my touch. I squeezed—and snapped it. "Smart boy."

I saw him glance at his comrades before looking back at me. He didn't retreat—instead, he gripped the sword more firmly; it had stopped trembling and now pointed at my heart.

"I'm not afraid of you..."

The visible half of his face twisted in disgust.

"... Nine-Tails."

I tilted my head. So the masks did hide real people; after his performance, I'd expected a machine, or something just as strange. But he sounded like any other boy his age, and he was probably as old as me—or close.

"Tell me, who sent you? The Sound? Or was it the Sand? One loss wasn't enough, and now you want another?"

While we spoke, the others drew closer, forming a tight circle around us. There were more than I'd thought; some of the injured had gotten back up.

"No one sent us."

There was no time to wonder what he meant, because he had already raised his sword. The fire painted it orange for the instant it took him to bring it down.

The blade shattered against my cloak—but tore it. With the sword now more like a dagger, he leapt back as the others hurled ninja tools at me. Kunai, ninja stars, and needles got caught in the aura surrounding me. None of them worked. Until the scrolls they carried exploded.

I felt the red energy falter. Felt my armor weaken. And they didn't miss the chance. They attacked from every direction. The kunai rained down, swords sliced through the air with their distinct whistles; a fireball hit me from the side and made me stumble.

"Sneaky bastards, aren't you?"

I gathered more power. The cloak regenerated completely; the tails reappeared, long and serpentine against the black air.

"Let's see what good that does you."

I charged at them.

I found them in the smoke, lying in wait. Most of them saw me coming. They met me with slashes of swords and daggers to the back. I struck back. Extended my tails and slammed them like maces. Shattered their masks with my fists. Took them down with a single Rasengan. One by one, I hunted them.

I wasn't the only one doing it.

Tenten's barrage chased them, whistling from impossible angles; the kunoichi leapt from branch to branch, out of her enemies' reach. Now and then I thought I saw Lee fighting here and there, but he was so fast, and it was so dark, I might've imagined it.

We were winning.

But they didn't surrender.

The ones who fell grabbed my legs to slow me down. The ones who didn't tried again even with broken weapons. I saw two ninjas, each with one arm broken, link their healthy hands to form a jutsu. I never found out which—it ended before that.

A rain of kunai came down on me and another intercepted it. I glimpsed Tenten through the smoke.

I don't remember the whole fight clearly, just fragments of it.

I know that at some point, someone used an Earth jutsu to turn the ground to mud. My legs sank nearly to the knees and the others took the chance to go for the kill. I know they failed. I know I found the ninja with the half-mask and that he lasted longer than anyone else in battle.

I know Rock Lee brought down the ninja I was fighting with a flying kick. His breathing was loud but still strong.

Though when he saw me, he kept his distance.

"You have to go," he said.

One of my tails flicked, and he visibly flinched.

"Tenten and I will deal with the rest. You need to go to the valley, before it's too late. You're the only one..."—Lee looked off into the distance, maybe at an enemy—"the only one who can save them."

We looked each other in the eye.

There was fear in Lee, but he swallowed it with every word.

Still, what he said next made his voice waver.

"Naruto, you... you are still you, aren't you?"

Somewhere, hidden in the smoke, Tenten shouted the name of a technique and immediately after, the sound of wood splitting echoed in the dark.

A second passed. Then another.

Rock Lee shut his eyes tight and ran to help his teammate.

I opened a hand, then closed it, looking into it. Fire had spread around me like a blaze. It made the ninja tools covering the ground glint, all of them, to the rhythm of the flames... I caught a glimpse of Kidomaru's clothes between two tongues of fire.

"So much for all that laughter," I murmured, feeling tired. The tails shrank until they vanished, and the red armor slowly faded away.

In the distance, I saw Lee and Tenten fighting the remaining enemies. Wounded and disoriented, the attackers were losing.

I remembered what one of them told me. "No one sent us." He'd lied, of course. A group that organized didn't just crawl out of the ground. Skilled ninja weren't common—and even less those willing to die for a cause.

As the power retreated inside me, the emotions it had buried surfaced again, and I shuddered as I realized what I had unleashed.

"Are you still there, Fox?" I thought, though I knew there'd be no answer. "Damn it, it was me, after all."

I closed my eyes. When I opened them, Sakura was beside me. I saw Neji and Shikamaru behind her.

They were dirty, wounded, exhausted. A cut here, a bruise there. Neji had blood on his forehead. A nasty gash adorned Nara's shoulder, which he held with one hand though it had stopped bleeding.

"Have you come to your senses?" he asked, cautiously.

"I guess. I don't know."

I saw him press his lips together. Beside him, Neji scanned me with his Byakugan. Like Lee, they kept their distance from me. I couldn't blame them, after what they'd seen.

She, however, stepped closer. Said my name.

Then, a pause. Too long to be comfortable. A loud, blunt sound echoed through the place, and I figured Lee was the cause.

"Thanks. For earlier," Sakura said.

She swallowed. I saw her chest rise and fall with every breath—it was irregular, nervous. It must've taken a lot of effort for her to be this close to me now.

She made a move to touch me, but I stepped back before she could. Her hand hung in the air for a moment before she lowered it.

"Let's go. Hinata and... Sasuke need us."

After saying his name, she bit her lower lip, like something hurt her. It didn't seem to be her injuries.

I nodded.

"Stay here. I'll go alone," I said.

"No way."

Sakura gripped my arm tightly.

The attacker's fingers were still marked on her neck, making her voice sound hoarse.

"I'm going with you," she said.

"Me too." Neji stepped forward. "They have Hinata. I'm not staying here doing nothing."

I gave him a long look.

"You look like crap, Neji."

"They've got her!"

Shouting didn't suit him. You could tell he wasn't used to it. Neji wasn't the kind to raise his voice—maybe because he didn't need to. His strength spoke for him.

That he'd lost control surprised me. He'd done it before. Hinata was a more sensitive subject for him than I expected.

"She's my family, damn it," he said, very quietly.

"And my teammate. I'm coming too."

Shino approached us, his jacket torn in many places. He'd lost his tinted glasses. It was the first time I saw his eyes—they were surprisingly intense. And they were looking right at me.

"You've got it under control, right?"

He knew. Shino knew.

I opened my mouth to answer, but no sound came out.

There was a strange silence among us all, a pause that stretched too long. Like everyone was waiting for someone to say what we were all thinking.

"And if..." Sakura began, but didn't finish the sentence.

No one wanted to say it.

"What if it's already too late?"

The forest, black and damp, seemed to listen. But no one replied. Because there was no answer.

Suddenly, we heard a shout.

"Leaf Whirlwind!"

Tenten and Lee were finishing off the last of the attackers. They made a good duo. She could reach enemies while he fought them directly, so they had to worry not only about Lee's strikes but also about the ninja tools embedding themselves in their bodies. It was an effective strategy—especially because when an enemy tried to put distance between himself and Lee, Tenten would seize the chance to pepper him with her entire arsenal.

"I'll stay behind," Shikamaru said in a grave voice.

I hadn't expected him to say that. He might be lazy, but he also had an unexpected sense of duty. On the other hand…

I looked at his wounds. Since Sakura had healed the one in his stomach, he'd taken more hits. I doubted he had any strength left—or could even perform a jutsu.

Shikamaru's decision didn't come from fear, but from cold rationality. One that didn't seem to amuse him at all.

"I'll only be a burden to you," he explained. "I'll return to the Leaf. Someone has to call for reinforcements. Honestly… this is beyond me."

He paused. Bitterly.

"I'd say it's beyond you too, but you, Naruto… with that power, I can't imagine you losing."

In the distance, Tenten made needles rain down on the last enemy. The masked shinobi stood frozen in a strange posture, riddled with needles. He held on. He even took a few steps before collapsing.

Tenten dropped to her knees and let out such a thunderous sigh that we all heard it. I wondered if she'd have the strength to keep fighting—if any of them had anything left to give. I supposed I'd find out soon enough.

"I'll bring Sasuke back," I said to Shikamaru—and to everyone—"and Hinata too. I know… I know what you've seen… my power… but I'm with you. I always have been. You know that."

I searched my comrades for something comforting. I found only empty stares.

Until Shikamaru stepped forward and put a hand on my shoulder.

"I know," he said.

I gripped his hand with mine. We nodded in silence.

"We have to go," Sakura interjected. She was right.

"Neji, can you see the valley from here?" Shikamaru asked.

Neji peered into the distance with his Byakugan.

"Partially."

"And what do you see?"

"Nothing we're looking for."

A small cloud of insects settled on Shino's arm; he listened to them intently. I noticed he had deep dark circles under his eyes—a detail I'd overlooked.

"They're in the valley. Waiting for us."

"Who?"

"Sasuke. Hinata. Someone else."

So there was hope, after all.

"Go," Shikamaru said, "I'll return with help."

We didn't linger. The rest of us set out for the valley, accompanied by Rock Lee, to whom Shikamaru had passed the mission's command.

"You're all too invested in this," Shikamaru had said. None of us argued his logic.

We moved slower than I liked. My companions' wounds, though they allowed them to walk, slowed us down. I considered leaving them behind, but the last time I'd done that, I'd been pierced by an arrow. What if it happened again? Or if they were attacked while I was gone? I couldn't leave them. I had to start making good decisions for once.

I spent the journey watching every shadow, every sound, every shape in the forest. But no more enemies appeared, and the redheaded girl Shino had defeated had vanished without a trace—though she had taken back her weapon before disappearing.

"She has her flute. If you hear it, cover your ears as best you can. Her jutsu acts fast."

Sometimes the sounds of the forest reminded me of a musical note, and I would tense up—but it was always my imagination.

It had started to rain, and the drops were cold.

We reached the Valley sooner than I expected. Shino was the first to warn us, then Neji. His Byakugan saw even farther than Hinata's; when he looked at me, I wondered what else he perceived.

"Be careful," he said.

The forest gave way abruptly to the valley. It was as if the earth ended there. We stood on the mountain's edge, and looking down we saw the lake and figures beside it. They looked small from our height, but I recognized Sasuke easily. He stood next to a darker figure, and another lay prone beside them.

"Hinata…"

If rage could be touched, Neji's would have weighed too much to hold. Struggling to contain himself, he took a deep breath. The veins around his Byakugan pulsed as the Hyuga battled his emotions versus his duty. He chose duty.

"We came here on a mission," he said, "let's fulfill it."

To our right stood two enormous stone statues. One depicted Hashirama Senju and the other Madara Uchiha. A waterfall roared between them, plunging into the lake that covered much of the valley.

"Does this bring back memories, Kyubi?" The Fox remained silent.

I was beginning to think he'd left.

It didn't matter, I told myself. I would carry out my mission. I would bring them back.

"There you are…"

There was a longing in Sakura's voice that only Sasuke could evoke. Leaning over the precipice, the wind whipped her hair fiercely. She had always… felt for Sasuke. That was why she'd come this far. Why she'd done what she'd done.

A thought slithered into my mind. One I already knew but tried to avoid like poison.

"Would she do the same for your?" it said. "I don't think so."

I jumped. That voice in my head wasn't mine. I searched for Kyubi everywhere—but he wasn't there. Could it be…? The others began descending the mountain until I stood alone on it. I looked around—among the trees, across the lake, atop the peaks.

Nothing. No one. I was alone.

More than ever.

"I can do it alone," I said softly, though I didn't know whom I addressed.

The wind answered me with a howl.

I descended into the valley, each step heavier than the last.

Chapter Text

Chapter 21

One morning, back when I was still a child, Iruka told us about the battle between the founders of the village. How the First Hokage created entire forests with his Wood Release jutsu, only for Madara Uchiha to burn them down with his powerful flames.

"It was a long battle," Iruka told us. "The longest and hardest of their lives. But in the end, Hashirama prevailed. Standing in the enormous crater they had carved into the earth together, he swallowed the pain in his heart… and put an end to the life of his friend and rival."

"If it hadn't been that way," Iruka continued as he paced through the classroom, his hands clasped behind his back, "the history of Konoha would have been very different. The Valley of the End is there to remind us that we must make sacrifices for what we believe in; that we must fight for what we know is right."

I remember he fell silent then, like he often did when he wanted his words to linger in the air. But just as the moment took hold of us, the alarm sounded, marking the end of class, and the magic faded away.

As everyone gathered their things, Iruka looked disappointed. But that expression quickly gave way to the same gentle smile I would see countless times over the years.

In a softer voice, he finished his thought:

"And that," he said, "is a battle that never ends."

I wonder now if what Iruka said had anything to do with the stone statues. If the one who carved them wanted to reflect the true nature of a ninja. Someone once told me the world is like the wheel of a cart, and that it keeps turning only because we keep pushing.

That night, I pushed—because I didn't know how to do anything else. And because of that—because of what I did in that valley, and everything that came after—the wheel would spin with such force that no one, no village, no ninja or Kage, would ever be able to stop it.

I could say I was too young to understand what I was doing. Or that I was so desperate, my judgment was clouded. That anyone else, in my place, would have done the same. That it wasn't my fault, but the circumstances', or the village's, or Kyubi's.

I could choose any of the excuses I lived with for years—because I know them all too well. Without them, I would have slit my throat with a kunai a long time ago.

But all those excuses are lies. And I knew it. I knew it the moment I reached the lake and saw my reflection in its black waters.

In those waters, I didn't see a boy. I saw a silhouette with fox eyes. And despite the looming threat of death—mine and my friends'—despite the mission turning into a disaster, those eyes smiled at me, even though my own face did not.

No, Naruto Uzumaki never listened to warnings. Not even the ones that came from within.

Once again, I ignored them. I ignored everything. I looked up at the stone giants, and far from finding any hidden message in them, I just felt irritated having to look up at them at all.

Between those statues, the waterfall crashed down into the lake, but neither its power nor its endless roar could disturb the surface of the water, over which we advanced in a tight formation, surrounded by darkness.

Rock Lee led the way. Leadership suited him like an arrow pressed against his back. He always took things more seriously than the rest of us. It was in his nature. He barely spoke a word, but his eyes scanned the shadows as if he, too, possessed a Byakugan.

Once we were close enough, he raised a closed fist, signaling us to stop, and waited.

Seeing someone like him—whose blood always seemed to boil like hot oil—act with such caution should've taught me something about responsibility.

Of course, I didn't learn a thing from him. Of course, the moment I recognized Sasuke's features among the silhouettes, I stepped ahead of the group, paying no attention to whatever they might be shouting at me.

"Naruto! You idiot!" Sakura yelled.

I told myself she would've done the same if she'd had the nerve. I heard the others running after me, but they were slow. Sasuke had also stepped ahead of his group. He walked with ease, but his Sharingan was active, locked onto me.

He wore his usual blue T-shirt and white shorts. The Konoha forehead protector he wore was as soaked as his clothes—the sky was filling with dark clouds, heavy with rain, and they had already begun to soak the valley.

I stopped in front of Sasuke, and he did the same. His hands were in his pockets, a faint smirk on his lips; the Sharingan scanned me from head to toe before he spoke.

"Wow… look at the sorry state you're in… someone gave you quite the beating." He chuckled as he stepped closer to me, and the others, panting, finally caught up and surrounded us. "Well, look at that… all of you came after me. I'm impressed. Especially you, Sakura."

"What does this mean?" Sakura asked as she stopped beside me. I could hear her anxious breathing as if it were my own. She looked over Sasuke's shoulder at the two figures behind him. "What is Hinata doing with you? Did you… do something to her?"

I heard a faint buzzing. Shino's insects were pouring from his coat, surrounding us. The Aburame's chakra was so heavy with hatred you could choke on it.

And Neji… seeing him trembling in place, his Byakugan flaring, made me wonder how long it would take for us to completely lose what little composure we had left.

It only took one look from Sasuke to understand the situation. His smirk widened into a grin so broad it revealed his gums; there was so much cruelty in that expression that I held my breath, unsettled. Since when could he smile like that?

"Oh, Sakura," he said, "my poor Sakura. So many questions… I'd love to answer them, really, but I doubt your friends will give me the chance. They're in such a hurry… but why? You came all this way for me…" Sasuke stretched his arms wide, as if saying, here I am. "So what's the problem? Is it her? Of course it's because of her."

Hinata stirred, lying on the surface of the lake. She had to be conscious—I thought—otherwise she'd have sunk beneath the water. But her clothes were filthy, and I thought I could see blood on them. I swallowed hard, hoping the action would help me swallow down the rage rising in my throat—but it didn't help at all.

The figure next to her was hooded. A black cloak concealed their entire body, and they didn't move a single inch.

"Don't worry about Hinata," Sasuke said. "I'll take good care of her."

The roar of the waterfall, the whisper of the rain, the hum of wasps awaiting orders… all of it decorated a silence that, in every other way, reeked of death.

I felt a squeeze on my hand—Sakura had taken it in hers, gripping tightly, before letting go and stepping toward Sasuke.

"I thought they forced you to… but no, right? It was you. You left because you wanted to."

He tilted his head.

"I bet that hurts to hear," he smiled.

"Sakura, get away from him," Lee ordered. "We'll fight him as a team."

"And who the hell are you supposed to be?" Sasuke shot back, pausing for a beat before continuing. "Ah… Gai's boy. Weren't you crippled? Tsunade's work, I'm guessing." He sighed, dripping with irony. "Such a shame… all that effort, only for you to die out here. What a waste. I hate waste."

That last part… he said it with a tone that wasn't his own.

"Gai's boy…?" Lee muttered under his breath.

I pushed Sakura aside and stepped right up to Sasuke, not bothering to shield myself from his Sharingan.

"How… how dare you talk to him like that?! We've sacrificed so much to get here!"

Sasuke shrugged.

"Did I ask you to? I don't think so."

"You son of… I'm going to wipe the floor with you!"

Blinded by fury, I lunged for his throat, but he batted my hand away with ease. That simple motion set everything off.

Sakura grabbed Sasuke by the shirt with one fist and slammed the other into his cheek, making him spit blood in the opposite direction.

"That's enough! I'm done with you!"

None of us expected what happened next. Instead of getting angry, or showing any pain, Sasuke burst into genuine, delighted laughter—laughter I can still hear echoing in my head.

"Oh? Breaking up with me, are you?" he howled, throwing an arm back… I saw a flash of green light in his outstretched hand. "I don't think so!"

Realization hit me like lightning. And as Sasuke's hand shot toward Sakura's throat, memories piled one after another inside my mind, freezing it.

How… how could this be happening?!

I heard shouting. The hum of insects. The splash of sandals over water. I felt the cold rain on my skin, the heat in my chest—and then my heart skipped a beat, for just a moment—when Sasuke's fingers brushed the girl's throat…

By the time I regained control of my body, it was already too late.

The others had beaten me to it.

I watched Sasuke's eyebrows lift in surprise when he realized why he had stopped. Why his hand hadn't crushed Sakura's neck.

They were all over him.

To his right was Lee, gripping the arm he'd used to attack Sakura. His thick eyebrows furrowed into a sharp, uncharacteristically serious expression.

To his left, Neji had pressed his palm to Sasuke's side, his face shadowed; his Byakugan met the Uchiha's Sharingan without a trace of fear.

Behind Sasuke, Shino raised his hands, commanding dozens of wasps to aim their long, venom-dripping stingers at the boy.

"I told you we'd do this as a team," Lee said. "Don't put yourself at risk, Sakura."

Sasuke tried to struggle free, but Shino made another gesture, and the wasps landed all over the Uchiha's body, ready to sting him at any moment.

"Give me a reason," the Aburame warned, "I'm sure Tsunade will understand."

"Well, well… what dangerous little kids you are. You'd almost think you were jonin…" Sasuke lowered his gaze toward the kunai that Sakura was pressing against his cheek (where had she even gotten that from?), then looked over at me. "But you, Naruto… you've been too slow. Are you scared? Please say yes. That would be so much fun."

Sakura pressed the kunai harder into his skin until blood appeared.

"Shut your damn mouth before I give you a second one," she hissed, her voice heavy with hatred.

Sasuke shot her a strange expression.

"You should've shown me that side of you earlier," he said. "Maybe I would've taken you with me… you know…"

"Ugh!" Sasuke groaned as Lee drove his knuckles into his stomach.

"Watch your mouth," Lee said calmly. "Or I'll deal with you myself."

Neji nodded, shifting his palm over Sasuke's heart.

"Yes. We've wasted enough time with this farce."

Had he noticed it too? No… not just him. The others had figured it out as well, just like I had—and yet, they reacted in time.

I was the only one who had frozen up.

I clenched my teeth until I tasted blood. The chakra began to rise.

"Oh…" Sasuke muttered. "Looks like the party's over."

Neji's Byakugan stopped briefly over my stomach before returning to the Sharingan of his enemy. A faint layer of blue chakra coated the hand he still had pressed against Sasuke.

"I'll only ask this once. Where are the real ones?"

Sasuke let out a huff, his mouth and eyes wide, a mixture of laughter and disbelief spreading across his face as he glanced at each of us before settling back on Neji.

In an instant, the expression twisted into one of pure boredom.

"You know… it really sucks that you've got that mark on your forehead, because it means you're useless to—"

"Wrong answer," Neji interrupted. "Hakke Kūshō."

Suddenly, a wave of chakra burst from his palm and slammed into Sasuke's chest, sending him flying backward at incredible speed. He passed through Shino—or rather, the cloud of insects Shino had transformed into—and managed to maneuver in the air just in time to avoid crashing into the hooded figure behind him.

But Lee, who had started running the moment Neji struck, reached him in an instant, appearing beside him midair and grabbing him by the hair. With the momentum of the descent, he smashed Sasuke's head down into the lake.

Like a meteor, the impact sent a massive column of water shooting upward, rippling waves outward in every direction. For a moment, it felt like we were at sea. But we gathered chakra into the soles of our sandals and sprinted across the surface, just in time to see Lee pull Sasuke out of the water with one hand and kick him so hard he slammed into the mountain.

"Sorry for the mess, guys," Lee said, lowering the leg he had used to strike him. It was the same leg Tsunade had healed, and judging by his expression, using it still hurt.

Rocks began to fall from the mountain, striking the lake one after another, making its surface ripple and shake. This went on for several seconds—then, everything fell silent.

A hand landed on my shoulder; Shino had materialized beside me. Having just returned to his human form, he was still surrounded by buzzing black insects.

"Calm down," he whispered. "You can't let it all out."

He was talking about the chakra swirling around my feet like a red mist. The water rippled outward in circles beneath its pressure.

"How long have you known?" I asked.

"There'll be time for that later," he said, patting my shoulder. "All you need to know is I'm on your side. We all are." Shino stepped forward, his gaze fixed on the hooded figure in the distance. "But what you carry inside, Naruto… isn't. Try to remember who your allies are… because you're going to need them."

Without another word, Shino lunged toward the hooded figure. And as I watched his cloak ripple with the speed of his movement, Sakura locked her tear-filled eyes with mine… and then she vanished.

Not like ninjas usually disappear—slipping away like a shadow—but in a completely different way.
Sakura looked at me in horror. And the water swallowed her whole, closing over her like the jaws of a beast.

Something had pulled her down with terrifying force.

Half a second later, hands grabbed my ankles and yanked me beneath the surface of the lake.

The water was black. The world was black.

I had no sense of up or down. I didn't know if I was floating or falling.

I struggled in the water, kicking at whoever had grabbed me. My sandal hit something hard; a hand yanked my arm, another grabbed my hair. But those weren't the only ones. All around me, invisible fingers clawed at my clothes, scratched my skin, groped blindly through the darkness...

I was surrounded by shadows darker than the water itself.

Then, a muffled scream rippled through the lake. Sakura was screaming. Sakura was in danger.

I wasn't going to allow that.

"GET OFF ME!"

With a roar, I unleashed all my chakra at once. Its crimson glow lit me up like fire in the night.

In that light, I saw them. I saw all of them.

All those arms reaching for me. All those open hands clawing at me. And their vacant masks. Dozens of them. Dozens.

Masked shinobi, dyed red like demons.

And among them—through the darkness and the swarm of bodies floating there—I saw Sakura struggling with Sasuke. He had her by the throat, laughing, crazed. Staring at me.

Bubbles escaped from their mouths as their air ran out.

And then, he let go of one arm… and without looking away from me, he reached up to his face… and tore it off like a mask.

Revealing what lay beneath.

A hideous face, disfigured by fire. Yellow, snake-like eyes.

For a moment, I felt like a child again. Weak. Trapped.

Kabuto Yakushi wasn't dead. He had come back for me.

Shnk.

I remembered the sound of his kunai piercing my heart, and I froze in terror. Paralyzed. I hated myself for it.

The masked shinobi grabbed me from all sides. Blades sank into my skin as Kabuto, laughing silently, started to drag Sakura into the depths of the lake…

I had already died once. And now, it was happening again.

But this time, Kyubi wasn't here to help me…

A kunai at my side. Fingers on my throat. Hands yanking my hair. More hands clutching my ankles, my arms, pulling me down. Was that it? Was this how it ended? Kabuto would kill me again? And Sakura too? What about the others?

Someone grabbed me from behind. I didn't even resist. Horrified, I watched as a masked shinobi pressed his chest against my back and drove a kunai into the scar on my chest.

It really was the end.

Everything began to fade, just like last time.

Until suddenly, I heard a voice. My own voice. But it wasn't coming from my mouth—it was coming from the water. From above and below, from the front and the back, as if countless mouths shared it. Every phrase overlapped with the last, and the next, because all those mouths spoke at once:

"Aren't you going to do something about this?"
Of course I will, I answered silently.
"And you'll fight?"
I've been fighting all this time.
"And what will you do with him?"
I'll kill him.
"You and I will do great things."
"You are the one who changes."
"From now on..."
Do it.
"...if you want something..."
Do it!
"...you'll just have to take it."
DO IT NOW!

I screamed, with every last breath in my lungs. The air emptied from me. The chakra that had lit the lake flickered out. The kunai buried in me twisted. And no one came to my aid. I was alone, and this was the end. Kyubi had abandoned me.

I sank into the void. Soon, everything would be nothing.

"NO!"

I opened my eyes again and pushed my chakra to the limit; the water thrashed violently, blasting all the masked shinobi away from me.

I wasn't going to die.

They were.

Kyubi had made it clear. If I wanted something, I had to take it—not ask for it. Take it. That's how it had been in the forest. The Fox hadn't given me his power; I had seized it by force.

In my inner world, I approached the gates of the Fox's cage—but they were already open. A powerful gale tossed them like a window in a storm.

I could do this. I would take everything. We had a deal, didn't we? Not a piece, not a fraction—all his power. All the might of the Nine-Tails. I wasn't settling for less.

By instinct, I knew exactly what to do.

I formed the seal with my fingers. I gathered all my chakra. And I spoke the words.

"Kage Bunshin no Jutsu!"

A powerful, intense, crimson light flooded the lake, like a massive blaze had ignited beneath the surface.

I expected to see a thousand clones around me. But only one appeared.

It was him. The shadow clone that wore my face like a mask. The one who smiled with animal fangs, fox fangs, and eyes warmer than anything else in the world.

"What took you so long to call me?" I heard his voice inside my head. Kyubi grabbed the kunai from my chest and ripped it out; I felt the wound heal as fast as the steel left my body. "Stupid kid… go get her."

Kyubi slapped my cheek. My eyes lit up like lanterns.

Nine tails of chakra burst from my back, long and crimson like tentacles.

Overflowing with power I had never felt before, I spotted Sakura deep in the lake… and I charged toward her.

Chapter Text

Sakura and I clashed from the very beginning. Even before entering the Academy, we spent our time arguing—sometimes over dumb stuff, and sometimes just out of habit.

We were polar opposites. The most opposite people in the world. I liked to remind her that she was rude, a know-it-all, and that her forehead was bigger than her back.

"Well, you're an airhead," she'd reply, "a lazybones and a clown, too."

She had me pegged.

Everything pointed to us spending the rest of our lives trash-talking each other. But then one day, we graduated… and ended up on the same team.

The news curdled my stomach like spoiled milk.

"What?! With that idiot?"

To which she replied:

"No way I'm teaming up with that blockhead!"

Needless to say, we were both devastated.

The next piece of news was even worse—at least for me. When we heard it, I mimed a gag, while Sakura's face lit up like a birthday cake.

Her cheeks flared up like fireworks when she found out the third team member was none other than Sasuke Uchiha.

Fate had decided to throw us together for some reason.

Fate was seriously getting on my nerves.

"Come on, this has to be a mistake. I can't work with that guy," I said, thumbing in Sasuke's direction. He gave me a condescending look.

"What's wrong? Afraid I'll show you up?"

Sakura giggled like an idiot while I racked my brain for a clever comeback which, surprise, I didn't have.

So I settled for calling him Hedgehog Head. Sasuke, as always, responded with a healthy dose of indifference.

That's how he was. He liked to pretend he didn't care about anything, though I swore up and down that wasn't true.

"He's doing it on purpose to seem cool," I once told Shikamaru, who shrugged and asked why I cared so much about what Sasuke did or didn't do.

Honestly, not a bad question.

Why did that guy get under my skin so easily? There was just something about him that drove me nuts. He only had to open his mouth for me to want to shut it for him.

And it's not like he ever did anything to me in particular. Ours was one of those rivalries that just sort of appear, like mushrooms in a forest.

It didn't help that Sakura—like ninety percent of the girls in our class—was head over heels for him.

It was unbelievable how her strong personality drained out of her every time he entered a room. Without fail. Just his presence made her say the dumbest things, stuff she'd never say under any other circumstances.

"He's not even that good-looking. There's something fishy about this—maybe it's an Uchiha hypnosis technique," Kiba once said.

"I'm going to get to the bottom of this," I replied, wearing my most serious face.

Obviously, I never got to the bottom of anything. What happened to me was something very different—and much worse.

I don't know when it started, only that I spent weeks ignoring it, hoping it would go away. "It's like the flu. That's why I'm thinking all these dumb thoughts."

I even stayed in bed a whole day, blanket up to my nose. But nothing changed, so I gave it another day.

Eventually, I had to admit it. There was no going back.

For some unfathomable reason, Sakura had started to grow on me. And even though I avoided using the word love, I started to worry when I realized my legs went weak whenever she got too close.

"Okay, Naruto, focus," I told my reflection. "She's very pretty—facts are facts. But you can't stand her! She's worse than a toothache! What's happening is, since you've never had a girlfriend and girls usually ignore you, you latched onto the one who happens to be nearby."

That had to be it! I'd cracked the case.

There was no way I liked her for real. It was just a crush, a fleeting teenage whim that would collapse under its own weight soon enough.

Only… it didn't.

If anything, it got worse. My feelings didn't deflate; they got more complicated, to the point where even I couldn't make sense of them. It was infuriating.

I didn't even want to argue with her anymore, or tease her about her forehead—which wasn't even that big, honestly—or call her a know-it-all, a brat, or a pain in the ass.

I didn't want her to see me as the loser everyone thought I was.

So I decided to change. I really tried.

Not that it helped. If I took one step forward, Sakura took two—and Sasuke, three or four. In a team that small, comparisons were inevitable. Standing next to a genius, everyone looks like a fool. Some more than others.

Taijutsu, shurikenjutsu, ninjutsu… Sasuke was good at everything. As a genin, he was already spewing fireballs the size of a house. He even had a Sharingan—something the rest of us had only read about in textbooks. A legendary dōjutsu that, rumor had it, could copy another ninja's techniques just by watching them once.

I knew how to make shadow clones, so my best trick was turning one idiot into twenty or thirty idiots.

The distance between us was monumental.

And since blaming luck was the easiest thing to do, that's what I did. Luck for being born with talent, for having a powerful kekkei genkai, for being admired by others.

Envy is a convenient tool for anyone looking for an excuse.

Luckily, it didn't last long. Because when the Hokage assigned us a mission in the Land of Waves, I had the chance to spend time with Sasuke. To watch him train. Turns out, he had to put in effort too—just like the rest of us mortals. Maybe even more than I did.

And when, during that mission, he nearly gave his life for me, my opinion of him shifted so dramatically that I began to see him as a friend.

We survived Zabuza and Haku. The Forest of Death, where Orochimaru branded Sasuke with the Cursed Seal. We fought together. We risked our lives for each other.

And both times, I needed Kyubi just to keep up.

That's how things were. I was surrounded by better ninjas than me, and the only way to stay in the race was to borrow someone else's power.

If I beat Neji, if I defeated Gaara… if I survived my fight against Kabuto, it was because Kyubi had lent me his chakra.

Was I truly incapable of achieving anything on my own?

It was a painful thought, because if it was true, it meant I could only be a ninja as long as I remained a monster.

I didn't like depending on a power like that.

But I needed it, if I wanted to be strong.

The more time passed, the clearer it became: Naruto the genin was nothing compared to Naruto the jinchuriki.

And what if using that power wasn't so bad? Wasn't I born with it, after all?

After a lifetime of failures, for the first time, I had something that set me above the rest. Something no one else in the village had. And now I was supposed to just not use it? To keep it sealed away inside me, shove my hands in my pockets, and accept my fate as a loser forever?

The morning I fought Sasuke on the rooftop… being able to take him down like it was nothing, seeing—at last—that I was the stronger one…

How was I supposed to resist something like that?

If I used this power, people would finally recognize I existed.

I'd shut up those who made fun of me. I'd make them respect me. All of them. The entire village.

Sakura.

"The moment she sees how strong I've become, she'll stop thinking I'm just some annoying loser with no talent."

In recent weeks, my power had grown so much, and so quickly, that no other genin could even come close.

I was dying to show everyone how much I'd changed, and at the same time, terrified that that very change would make them turn their backs on me.

"What if they reject me? What if she does?"

Just imagining what she might think of me was enough to keep me up at night.

So when I reached Sakura in that lake—when I caught her outstretched hand as her lifeless eyes began to refocus—I felt my soul shrink so tightly I thought it might devour itself.

I was afraid I'd see in her gaze the same fear I'd seen in others before—only this time, it wouldn't be misplaced, but as real as the nine tails curled behind my back.

In that moment, Sakura saw all of me.

The real Naruto: not the class clown, not the great ninja I pretended I wanted to be, not the boy with a demon fox sealed inside him… but Naruto, the boy who was also a fox, in every way that meant.

I thought she'd scream in horror.

Instead, she intertwined her fingers with mine.

And in that exact moment, as if by its own will, my chakra flowed down her arm like fire, wrapping her up the same way it wrapped me.

Sakura threw her arms around my neck, holding me tight, seeking refuge in me… accepting me.

It was so much more than I ever expected. It was everything I had ever wanted.

Fool that I was, I waited for my heart to swell inside my chest.

But nothing happened.

The catharsis I'd been waiting for never came.

I felt no joy, no relief, no love. My heart beat, yes—but no harder than it had before.

There was heat in my chest, but it didn't soothe me—it burned.

When I looked at Kabuto, I clenched my teeth.

He had let go of Sakura and was now letting himself sink, drifting down toward the bottom of the lake, his long white hair fanned out like the death he'd somehow escaped.

A small smile was starting to form on his lips, slow and silent, like poison.

In the glow of my chakra, I could see his features more clearly. Kabuto had changed.

It wasn't just the hideous burns disfiguring the right side of his face—his face now resembled that of a snake. His skin was pale, his eyes narrow and yellow; and when he laughed, I could see four sharp fangs glinting between his lips...

… it felt like having Orochimaru right in front of me again, only Kabuto's chakra—though he tried to keep it hidden—was even more twisted than his master's.

Disturbed, I clutched Sakura tighter, ready to get her out of there.

Until I heard it. His laugh. That horrible, high-pitched, hysterical laugh, drilling into my ears like a parasite.

Kabuto was laughing at me. At us.

At the moment we'd just shared.

I couldn't believe it. I felt ridiculous. I felt pathetic.

It was already humiliating enough to feel nothing—nothing—in the face of the acceptance I had waited years for.

And now he was laughing at it? At me? Did he know? Did he know how I felt, and still…?

Never in my life had I felt so humiliated.

This time, my chest did swell.

With hatred. A hatred too great for a human body to contain—but it had to come out somehow.

So I let it.

Immediately, one of my tails shot forward like a spear and impaled Kabuto through the heart—cutting his laugh short, turning it into a choked gasp.

His eyes widened like golden coins and then—without jutsu, without hand signs, without any warning—Kabuto dissolved into hundreds of tiny snakes, scattering in every direction.

I heard his laughter again—and this time, it came from every snake.

They rushed at me.

The masked ninjas had reached us too, joining the assault. There were so many that I couldn't see anything else.

We were trapped in a chaos of fists and fangs, kunai and blades; the blows rained down nonstop from all directions.

None of them worked.

The chakra cloak around my body repelled everything: knuckles split open on contact, blades dulled, bones snapped.

When the tiny snakes bit me, they disintegrated like paper tossed into a bonfire.

I shielded Sakura with my body as I took the storm head-on.

And holding her close, I counterattacked—using my tails as weapons against them.

Each strike took out several at once.

And still, they didn't surrender.

They fought with no regard for themselves or their comrades.

The wounds they suffered, their broken bones, the lack of air in their lungs—none of it mattered compared to their mission.

But what kind of mission could justify such sacrifice?

Why fight a battle that's already lost?

What purpose is so important that a man would shove his fallen comrades aside without even looking at them?

How much loyalty does it take to keep fighting with a broken neck?

Those were the questions running through my head as I tore through their ranks, cutting them down with a single swipe of my tails.

But I had no time—and no air—to think of an answer.

For every one I killed, another took their place.

And no matter how much power I had, it couldn't fill my lungs.

I was drowning.

We were drowning.

This fight had to end.

The problem was, I didn't know any jutsu that could take out a whole group at once—unless...

The idea struck me as one of the ninjas latched onto my back.

I saw him cough out the last of his breath, his strength faltering before he found one final reserve.

The others followed suit.

They knew they couldn't beat me—so they'd decided to drag us down with them.

They didn't care about dying, so long as we died too.

How dare they?

I wanted to scream, but I had no voice.

More of them piled onto me.

I pierced some with my tails, but others just kept coming.

There were so many bodies wrapped around us, I couldn't tell which ones were still alive.

My head began to spin.

I had Sakura in my arms and was doing everything I could to protect her.

We were sinking faster and faster, and those closest to me were pressing their kunai into my chakra armor, searching for a crack to slip through...

The image of Sakura lying dead at the bottom of the lake flashed through my mind like a dark premonition.

But another image replaced it—Kabuto, laughing at me.

Laughing so hard he was in tears, unable to believe how pathetic I truly was.

I tasted blood between my teeth. Then I attacked—

All nine tails at once, cracking through them like whips. With enough force, chakra could take on the consistency of steel. I spun, and the tails spun with me.

A crimson tornado tore through their ranks, wiping out many at once, and when I stopped spinning, I'd put enough distance between us for the technique to hit them all equally.

I opened my palm and gathered chakra into it.

A crimson Rasengan formed, but it was too small.

I poured in more chakra—until it doubled, then tripled in size.

Still not enough.

More. I needed more.

And I knew exactly how to get it.

I pointed the Rasengan forward. At the same time, I extended my tails until all nine were wrapped around the sphere, which began spinning wildly, infused with more chakra than I could ever control with just two hands.

I knew I'd done it when the sphere filled my entire field of vision, and the lake water around us began to spiral, like a typhoon out at sea.

Another day, I might have given that new technique a name—but this time, I could only scream the one I already knew.

Though, to be fair, I barely had enough air left to scream it.

The massive Rasengan swallowed them all.

Masks and bodies disintegrated on contact, like wet paper; the rest were swept away by the whirlpool that quickly consumed the entire lake.

I held Sakura tight, pushed off, and together we broke through the surface.

We emerged through the eye of the same whirlpool that had just interrupted the battle that had raged across the entire valley until now.

I don't know how or when the ambush started.

I imagine it was when Sakura and I were dragged down into the lake. That the enemies had come up the same way we were coming out now—only silently, with weapons ready.

And I imagine that, if not for Neji's Byakugan, that surprise attack would have wiped out my entire team.

But somehow, they'd survived.

Now only six masked shinobi remained—excluding the one currently being devoured by a swarm of bugs.

His screams were silenced as the whirlpool consumed him.

The rest floated in the water alongside the ones I'd killed.

Caught in the current, the bodies became obstacles that everyone—friend or foe—had to avoid at all costs.

And it was already hard enough just to stand on the churning waters without sinking.

With all eyes on me, I planted two of my tails onto the water's surface, using them as makeshift legs.

Then I breathed. And so did she.

The night air filled our lungs, cold, clean, in desperate gasps.

The relief was indescribable.

It felt like a man who, after a week without eating, finds a steaming bowl of ramen waiting for him.

The desperation in our shared breath—her in my arms, clinging to me; me holding her as tightly as I could—made me feel closer to her than ever before.

Between gasps, Sakura coughed. She'd swallowed water. I didn't know how much—but I swore Kabuto would pay for every last drop.

I searched for him until I spotted him at the far end of the valley, standing atop Madara's giant sandal.

Noticing my gaze, he waved at me enthusiastically, like greeting an old friend.

When I caught him—I swore—I'd rip off that hand and make him swallow it whole.

"Is she alive?!"

Lee's voice, full of anguish, pulled me out of my thoughts.

I looked down and found him standing on the now-calming water.

I dropped down to his level.

He took a step back, then stepped forward again.

"She is."

Sakura opened her eyes and blinked several times, trying to clear the water from them.

I felt her breathing against my chest—fast, erratic, but steady.

Lee held out his arms toward me.

They were shaking.

"Give her to me."

His voice was steady, but his face gave him away.

I looked up at him.

His clothes were torn and filthy, but the cuts were all superficial.

His hair was wet and plastered to his face.

His eyes were hard—and full of mistrust.

"Naruto, give her to me. I'll take care of her."

I glanced over his shoulder.

About twenty meters away, I saw Neji knock down one masked ninja with a flurry of strikes, and deflect another's blade with a twist of his wrist.

The Hyūga had a nasty gash down his back.

Another, smaller one cut across Lee's left eyebrow.

Thin lines of blood ran from his eyelid, circling his eye and trailing halfway down his cheek.

They moved—slowly, but they moved.

I stared at them, strangely fascinated.

"Why would I give her to you?" I finally said, narrowing my eyes at Lee. "Don't you trust me?"

A burst of insects flew between us before he could answer. Mid-flight, they formed a black mass that clung to one of the masked ninja's face. Buzzing furiously, they stung him until he dropped into the water.

A bead of sweat rolled down Lee's forehead as he weighed his options. He kept glancing from Sakura to the tails still swaying behind my back, and I wondered what I'd do if he tried to take her from me by force.

Because honestly, I didn't know.

"You're not… you're not yourself right now." Lee swallowed hard. "She's safer with me."

More insects flew past us, this time rushing to protect Shino from the simultaneous attack of three masked shinobi. The two remaining ones were locked in hand-to-hand combat with Neji, alongside the fake Hinata we'd seen before.

Whoever was impersonating her had apparently decided it was smart to keep up the act—and judging by how tense Neji looked, it was working.

Though her taijutsu was far weaker, the imposter made up for it with commendable ferocity.

I lashed one tail impatiently.

When it struck the lake, Lee flinched—and then his features hardened.

Bracing himself, he stepped toward me, and I instinctively held Sakura tighter.

"Stop it… both of you!" she said suddenly.

After a brief struggle, she forced me to let her go.

As she tried to stand, she collapsed to her knees. We both moved to help her, but she pushed us away, smacking Lee's hand aside.

Sakura coughed before fully getting to her feet.

"What are you staring at?" she snapped, wringing out her hair. "It's gonna take more than this to finish me off. They need our help—so get your asses moving already."

Sakura was tough. Tougher than most people gave her credit for.

Without waiting for a reply, she sprinted toward Neji and floored the fake Hinata with a sucker punch that sank her like a stone.

Lee and I looked at each other.

What the hell had we even been doing until now?

"Sakura's right," he said. "They need us. But I… whatever it is that's happening to you…"

"I'm in control. Isn't that enough?"

He swallowed. Nodded slowly.

"Be careful with that one," he warned, pointing toward the hooded ninja we'd seen earlier. He was silently approaching us now, what looked like a white sword sticking out from his right sleeve.

"He's not like the others. He blocked me with ease and…" Lee ran a thumb across the wound on his eyebrow. "But if we go together, we might stand a chance."

I laughed—catching him off guard.

"Oh, come on, Lee. After the way you looked at me earlier, you still think I need help? I'll take him on myself. You make sure the others are safe."

After a pause, he agreed and ran off to help Neji.

A scream rang out as "Hinata" burst up from the lake—now a red-haired girl: the same kunoichi we'd seen back in the forest.

How was she still moving?

The insects were supposed to have injected her with some kind of venom, but it clearly hadn't worked.

"Give me back that flute, four-eyes!"

Instead of attacking Sakura, she charged at Shino with a roar.

The sudden assault caught him off guard, forcing him into close combat. The problem was, Aburame weren't exactly known for their taijutsu—and this girl, Tayuya, hit hard.

Her punch broke through Shino's guard like a hammer through butter.

"You think I'm done with you?!" she shouted, grinning—

But the grin vanished when two small swarms of insects, each the size of a fist, slammed into her stomach one after the other, folding her in half.

Tayuya screamed a profanity before diving back into the fight.

There was something about her that… felt familiar.

Her long red hair whipped behind her with every movement.

I wondered when I'd met someone like her before.

As he drew closer, the white-sword ninja lowered his hood, revealing a young man not much older than me.

He had pale skin and strange eyes—green over black.

He was handsome, except for the fine scars that ran across his face like hairline cracks in porcelain.

His hair was straight and snow white, worn loose except for two small bunches tied at either side of his neck with red cords.

Red, too, was the paint lining his eyes—and above them, two painted circles marked his forehead. I'd never seen anyone with markings like those before.

But Kyubi recognized them instantly.

A shadow clone appeared beside me, crouched with his elbows resting on his knees. He raised an eyebrow as he looked at the ninja before us.

"Well, would you look at that. Not every day you come across a Kaguya... Your bushy-browed friend was right, he's dangerous. So leave him to me. You've got unfinished business with Kabuto, don't you? Then go handle it."

With a grunt of effort, he stood and began walking toward the so-called Kaguya, who raised the weapon in his hand to point at him.

Now that I saw it clearly, it didn't look so much like a sword—it was more like a white spike. Smooth and rounded, except for the razor-sharp tip.

What the hell was it made of?

I wouldn't have to wait long to find out.

"I thought your clan was extinct," Kyubi said, touching the weapon's point with his fingertip. A drop of blood welled up and fell into the water.

Then, with a single slash, the other cut off his hand and said:

"My clan died with me."

From Kyubi's severed wrist, a mass of chakra erupted, reshaping into a new hand.

He opened and closed the fingers a couple of times before bursting out in laughter.

"A talking corpse. And here I thought I'd seen it all."

Suddenly, he pointed at the boy with his newly regenerated hand, and a chakra tendril shot from his palm—fast as an arrow—straight at the boy's chest.

But no.

All it did was shred a black cloak.

His opponent had slipped off the cloak at the last second—and now he was the one impaling Kyubi, plunging the sword straight through his heart until the tip burst from his back.

Kyubi's eyes widened.

Then narrowed into a grin, as he patted the boy's head.

"Not bad, for a kid. Tell me, what's your name?"

"Kimimaro."

An image flashed through my mind. It was Jirobo, in the forest, telling me someone named Kimimaro would avenge him... So this was the guy he meant.

And yeah, he was strong. After impaling Kyubi, he decapitated him with a lightning-fast slice of his sword.

But just like with his hand, the clone regenerated its head in mere seconds. It was a chilling sight—a reminder of what lay within that shadow clone.

"Nice to meet you, Kimimaro Kaguya," Kyubi said with mock politeness. "Too bad your opponent is me."

Slowly, he ran his fingers down his face, as if pleased to have one again—and then, without warning, he accelerated.

My eyes couldn't follow him. Neither could Kimimaro's.

Kyubi flashed past him like a storm, and the next thing we knew, he had torn off the boy's sword arm.

Turning around, Kyubi flung it into the water.

"Oops. How clumsy of me," he said with a wicked smile.

Neither of us expected what happened next.

Kimimaro hadn't made a sound. Hadn't even flinched.

And his wound didn't bleed.

Instead, it began to rebuild.

Not regenerate—rebuild.

Tiny white fragments, like pieces of paper, emerged from the gash and fused together until a fully formed, functional arm had grown in its place.

It had nothing to do with my own regenerative abilities.

It was more like what my shadow clone had shown before.

But that clone was made of chakra—not flesh and bone.

Seeing it made nausea rise up my throat. I had to force it down.

Who the hell was this guy?

"Look at you. Being born with that cursed blood is bad enough—and now they've turned you into a puppet…" Kyubi started walking toward Kimimaro.

"But who's pulling the strings? Not many shinobi know Edo Tensei. And as far as I know, Orochimaru's dead. Am I wrong?"

The other fight had spilled into theirs. Only two masked shinobi remained. One fought Lee and Neji simultaneously, while Shino and Sakura had Tayuya cornered.

Black markings covered the redhead's skin. The Curse Seal had boosted her taijutsu, but even so, she was losing.

With Kabuto nowhere in sight, I joined the fray.

I sprinted toward Neji—catching a glimpse of Kimimaro's bones bursting from his skin in a grotesque display—and ended the ninja he was fighting with a clean Rasengan to the back.

The Byakugan glared at me with the same horror I'd seen in Lee earlier.

But without wasting a second, Lee surged forward and slammed a kick into Tayuya, knocking her back into the water.

A sandal landed right where she'd fallen—Kimimaro's, retreating as he continued his fight with Kyubi.

Bones jutted from his body like thorns, which he wielded as extra weapons.

It was a terrifying jutsu that made him as deadly as he was unpredictable.

And then there was that other ability—Edo Tensei.

Kyubi had called him a "talking corpse."

So was he really dead?

Was that why he could heal like that?

Watching them fight was like witnessing a nightmare.

Neither bothered much with blocking; they simply absorbed each other's hits… and healed.

I heard a scream as Tayuya surfaced again. She had transformed—just like her teammates back in the forest.

Her skin had darkened, and white horns now sprouted from her head.

Moving faster than she ever had before, she grabbed Sakura by the neck, lifting her with a single hand. She looked at Shino and said:

"Better give me back my flute, four-eyes—unless you wanna say goodbye to your little girlfriend."

Sakura was quick.

The moment Tayuya turned her eyes away, she formed hand seals at high speed and muttered the name of a genjutsu.

Tayuya's grip loosened immediately, letting her go.

Without wasting a second, Sakura slammed her right fist into her face, breaking her nose with a loud crack.

"Now! Shino!"

She was counting on the Aburame to finish what she'd started.

But he didn't move.

He couldn't.

We all turned to look at him.

Some shouted his name. Others shouted a warning.

He opened his mouth.

And blood spilled out.

Shino looked down slowly—at the long white spike that ran clean through his side—and coughed up more blood.

Then he looked at Kimimaro, who had thrown one of his bones like a kunai, with superhuman force and accuracy…

And only after grasping what had happened, Shino allowed himself to fall into the lake.

"Shino!"

"No, no!"

Everything happened very fast after that.

In retaliation, Kyubi launched Kimimaro into the mountain with a punch that echoed across the valley.

At the same time, Lee and Neji rushed to Shino—only to be intercepted by a shadow that turned out to be Kabuto.

Green chakra enveloped both of his hands, and if not for the Byakugan and their lightning reflexes, he would've slit their throats clean open.

The moment I saw him, I charged.

I remember grabbing his hair and yanking hard.

Driving my fist into his gut.

Slamming the other into his jaw.

I also remember the way he laughed while we fought, blood spilling from his mouth as he retaliated with precise chakra scalpel swipes.

Like Kimimaro, he took the hits without reacting to them—and I began to wonder, uneasily, if he was immortal too.

But when he blocked one of my tails, I felt his bones break—and then watched him heal the injury with a medical jutsu.

That meant he was still alive.

Not for much longer.

With Neji's help, I beat Kabuto back, cornering him blow by blow.

Meanwhile, Lee dragged Shino out of the lake, and Sakura was losing a fight against Tayuya, who had shaken off the genjutsu with ease.

As for Kyubi—he'd taken his battle with Kimimaro to the mountain, far from the rest of us.

Even from this distance, we could hear the impact of their blows, clear as thunder.

Kabuto laughed as we fought. He wouldn't stop.

Maybe he was starting to realize that the longer the fight dragged on, the more ground he gained.

Because the ninja in front of me wasn't anything like the one I'd beaten back then.

He wasn't just faster and stronger—he was way more skilled. He deflected Neji's strikes like he knew every Hyuga technique. Mine—he dodged almost all of them. He turned into snakes or shadow clones made of different elements.

Since when could he use so many?

The few times I did land a hit, he healed faster than any medical-nin I'd ever seen—except maybe Tsunade.

"Come on, little fox!" he taunted. "Try harder, or I'll have come all this way for nothing!"

He had Neji's left wrist in his grip, and Neji let out a cry of pain as Kabuto's chakra tore through the inside of his arm.

His hand dropped, limp.

Neji clenched his elbow and drove it into Kabuto's cheek, still screaming. The blow knocked him down, but he sprang back up—only for me to come crashing down on top of him.

We plunged into the lake, me on top of him, pressing my fingers into his throat. Using my tails as support, I hauled us both back to the surface.

Suspended above the water, I lifted myself a few meters up, choking him with everything I had.

"I'm going to kill you," I said. "And this time, I'll make sure you don't come back. There won't be anything left of you. And after that, I'll bring Sasuke and Hinata home. Everything you've done… will have been for nothing."

Kabuto squeezed his eyes shut, groaning in pain, and gasped:

"Wait… I'll tell you… I'll tell you where they are…"

I loosened my grip.

He gasped for breath—then, his breathing steadied.

He opened his eyes. They sparkled with delight.

"You really are just a kid," he said, pressing his palm against my chest. "Ranshinshō."

His chakra jolted through me like electricity.

And suddenly—my body stopped listening to me.

I tried to crush his neck, but my fingers had no strength left. Kabuto slipped free easily, and still smiling, opened his mouth wide.

A snake burst from his throat and sank its fangs into my neck.

The venom hit me like molten steel.

My vision doubled, then blurred completely. The chakra around me dissolved.

And I fell.

Instead of sinking into the water, I landed on something soft.

I knew it was Shino's doing the moment I heard the buzzing. Hundreds of insects condensed into a cloud barely larger than me. I felt them crawling across my skin; their tiny feet tickled as they moved.

A large wasp landed on the back of my hand.

I tried to swat it away, but ended up twitching my foot instead.

What the hell was happening to me?

I tried to move that same foot—but then, my hand started to flail. The wasp flew off toward somewhere else. I heard a scream. Then another.

The insect cloud broke apart, and I fell again.

This time, someone caught me.

It was Lee.

With a mighty leap, he landed on Hashirama's foot, holding me in his arms. Not far from us, Neji was still fighting Kabuto—but without my help, and with one hand down, he didn't stand much of a chance.

I searched for Sakura and found her wiping blood from her lips while Tayuya rummaged through Shino's unconscious body.

She pulled the flute out of his clothes and let out a loud laugh—until she saw the insects inside.

"Disgusting!" she screamed, kicking Shino in the ribs.

I wanted to help him.

But I still couldn't move.

And the pain in my neck—where that damn snake had bitten me—was so intense I could barely think.

Lee laid me down and, without a word, leapt back into battle.

He dropped onto Kabuto with a flurry of blows, so fast the medic-nin could hardly keep up—until he caught one of Lee's legs and held it tight, just like he had with Neji's hand.

Lee's scream chilled me to the bone.

That was the same leg Tsunade had just healed.

If not for Neji, Kabuto would've killed him right then and there.

But the Hyuga stepped in at the last second, deflecting the chakra scalpel aimed at Lee's carotid artery.

"Wow, that was close!" Kabuto howled, slashing again, nearly cutting Neji's face. "You've got some good eyes! I might have to rethink my opinion of you. Come over here so I can check something—"

Lee struck him from behind, staggering him. When Kabuto turned to retaliate, the boy had already changed.

His skin was red. His eyes, white.

"Fourth Gate," he said, placing weight on his injured leg. "Gate of Pain!"

Neji, who had circled behind Kabuto, assumed his stance and focused with everything he had.

"Hakke… Rokujūyon Shō!"

"Oh, shit…" Kabuto muttered—his smile gone for once—just as the two ninjas unleashed hell on him.

Hard fists. Gentle fists.

An onslaught from both sides.

As rivals, Neji and Rock Lee were perfect opposites. As teammates, they were lethal. They had honed taijutsu into an art form—and though each did it in his own way, one with elegance and the other with force—the result was equally brutal.

What they unleashed on Kabuto could only be described with one word: death.

Hit after hit, then hit again.

No body can take that kind of punishment without breaking.

And yet… when they finished, what remained of Kabuto was a twitching mass of pulverized flesh—

—laughing.

It was that laugh that brought the assault to an end.

That goddamn laugh—high-pitched, piercing—echoing through your bones and into every crevice of your body.

The same laugh I'd heard in the lake.

That overwhelming hate flooded me again.

I still couldn't move.

Kabuto's technique… it was the same one Tsunade had once used on him.

It scrambled your motor signals so you couldn't control your body.

How he had managed to keep fighting in this state was beyond me.

I wasn't as smart as he was.

I didn't know anything about medical ninjutsu.

No matter how hard I tried, I wasn't going to regain control of my body until the effect wore off.

But I could use my chakra again.

As I let it out, I felt my strength return. The wound on my neck spat out the poison before sealing completely.

I summoned my tails and drove them into the ground to lift myself up. My limp body dangled from them—but it didn't matter. I didn't need it for what I was about to do.

I shot forward, running on my tails like spider legs...

Suddenly, my vision turned red.

The last thing I saw was Kabuto opening his mouth again, just like before—but wider, unhinging and tearing his jaw, until a new copy of himself, slick and unscathed, slithered out…

We slammed into the mountain together.

I grabbed his head with a chakra hand and bashed it into the rock more times than I could count.

Kabuto turned into snakes between my fingers—one of them had explosive tags stuffed in its mouth.

The blast carved a crater into the mountain. But I survived.

I ran horizontally along the rockface, catching a glimpse of Tayuya below, playing her flute to summon three enormous monsters she called Doki.

They looked like twisted ogres—and they were strong. Every blow raised giant columns of water, and when Lee slammed into one and sent it crashing into the waterfall, the entire valley trembled like it was about to collapse.

The other two cornered Sakura and a worn-out Neji, while Tayuya and Kabuto teamed up against me. She kept her distance, trying to play her flute—but I always stopped her at the last second.

"How clever! Using your chakra like that…!" Kabuto shrieked. "That's it, now you've got it! The body is just a vessel—a prison of flesh, blood, and bone we must break free from—!"

"Rasengan!"

I used the technique with a chakra arm, almost catching him off guard—but he dodged it, falling backward into the lake.

He popped up beside me, smiling.

"I'd rather not take another one of those," he said, stabbing me in the side. "Last time, it hurt so bad it drove me insane."

I screamed in pain and swung four of my tails like a hammer at him.

But he saw it coming—leaping back just as Lee emerged from the waterfall, bloodied but victorious, and ran to help Sakura and Neji.

He was still using the Gates.

His body wouldn't last long.

Neither would mine.

Using my chakra this way was taking a heavy toll. To move—to fight—I had to keep pouring out massive amounts. My body screamed in agony. I could feel my muscles tearing and my bones splintering.

I didn't have much time before it all gave out. I wasn't sure my healing factor would save me then.

The effect of Kabuto's technique was fading. At least now I could move the right limbs when I tried.

Maybe—if I lasted just a little longer—I'd be able to fight with my own fists again. Maybe that would help me hold on.

Yeah. I just had to hold on.

Just a little longer.

So I kept fighting. I charged at Kabuto. Like the masked ninja in the lake, I attacked without caring about myself. I just pressed forward, and kept pressing—until my hits started landing.

A punch to his jaw.

A tail whip to his gut.

I saw his smile fade.

Saw him grunt.

Bleed.

I missed a Rasengan, but followed up with another and shattered the snakes he'd turned into.

Between them, I spotted Tayuya raising the flute to her lips.

I ran toward her.

The first note sounded. Then the second.

Something crashed into the lake hard—Kimimaro, thrown from the top of the mountain by Kyubi.

His entire stomach was gone—and already regenerating…

A third note rang in my ears. Then a fourth. A fifth.

Just as my hand was about to close around her face, the melody flowed like the waterfall behind her, and her lips curled into a grin.

"Good night, dumbass," she said.

Tayuya took a breath—and played again.

My consciousness vanished instantly.

But then—I felt a sting that jolted me awake.

A wasp—the same one I'd seen before—flew off after doing its job.

I almost smiled. Even out of commission, Shino was still backing us up.

I saw Tayuya frown and blow into her flute again.

Nothing happened.

She blinked, confused—until she realized what had occurred.

Kyubi was blocking the other end of the flute with the tip of his finger.

She looked at the clone.

He smiled.

"Sorry, but the kid's not great with genjutsu. That wouldn't be fair, would it?"

Something flickered in his eyes. She caught it—and dodged just in time, diving into the waterfall and vanishing from view.

Kyubi's hand slashed the water where her throat had just been.

"Smart girl…" he muttered, then turned toward me. His expression had turned serious.

"Look at you. You're falling apart. Let me warn you: stop what you were doing. You're not ready to use my power like that."

"I can take it."

"No, you idiot, you can't. You'll pop like a balloon—and we both know it."

I heard footsteps behind me.

Kimimaro had transformed.

I wasn't surprised he had the Cursed Seal too—but I was surprised by how much power he now radiated. I could feel it, the way you feel heat when your hand gets too close to a fire.

His skin had darkened, like Tayuya's—but his body had changed far more.

Huge bones protruded from his back, white as marble. As he walked, he dragged a thick reptilian tail behind him.

In his right hand, he held a massive sword made from his own spine—or so Kyubi explained after helping me up.

"I don't know how many times I've killed him. It's a pain not knowing sealing techniques. Damn it—Kushina would've sorted this out in no time. What kind of Uzumaki are you supposed to be?"

From behind the waterfall, we heard the start of another melody. Kyubi growled a curse—then two clones split off from him like drops of water. One dove into the waterfall, followed by a scream—and then silence.

The other stayed with me as Kyubi charged in.

With his right arm, he pierced straight through Kimimaro's chest—just as Kimimaro did the same with his sword.

I took a step forward.

That small effort made my throat taste like blood.

"I meant what I said," the clone told me. "If you keep this up, you're going to die. Every human has a limit. You've hit yours."

"What do you want me to do? Just lie here and let them kill me?"

"Nobody said anything about lying down."

He patted my back.

Kimimaro impaled Kyubi with his bones—and Kyubi answered with a Rasengan that left only his legs intact.

Both regenerated again.

"This is insane," I muttered.

"It's just war, kid. One among many. Ninjas have been killing each other for generations, and I don't think yours is going to be any different."

A slash severed Kyubi's left arm—but he regrew it in time to deliver a punch that snapped Kimimaro's neck backward...

The Kaguya collapsed—and stood again, like a puppet held up by strings.

"At this rate," the clone said, "this is never going to end. But there's a way. Let me give you a hand."

He pressed his palm against me.

And just like he had separated from the other clone, this one became a mass of chakra that merged with mine.

I felt a flash at the height of my scar, and my vision turned red again.

The image I was seeing—Kyubi and Kimimaro killing each other—vanished.

A blur.

Then water—rushing.

No—I was the one moving. Running on all fours like an animal. Another blur. I'd changed direction.

I leapt meters across the lake to reach someone.

Kabuto.

His eyes went wide when he saw me—his pupils quivering over the whites.

His wide, happy smile welcomed me.

"Hahaha! This is amazing!" he laughed, exultant, as I crashed into him.

We sank into the lake.

I remember bubbles, red and yellow flashes.

Stabs to my ribs.

I remember piercing Kabuto three, four, five times with my tails—but each time I hit him, he turned into snakes.

I remember the blood, thick in the water like the yolk of a raw egg.

Then everything went bright red.

Another image: I was propping myself out of the water on my tails.

Kabuto was there—untouched.

Neji was on his knees, and Kabuto was holding him by the throat.

Blood smeared the Hyuga's face.

In Kabuto's free hand—an eye.

A Byakugan, active.

"I need you to live forever now! Or this eye is worthless!"

He laughed, showing it to me.

He also laughed when I shoved my hands through his heart.

He turned into snakes again.

Appeared in the distance.

But I was already there.

When I caught up to him, he praised my speed.

He also praised my strength when I drove a Rasengan into his stomach—but it was only a clone.

Even though none of his attacks had hit me, I was beginning to feel intense pain in my muscles from how hard I was pushing them.

I roared in pain—and in frustration.

He just laughed louder.

Once again, the world turned red.

I came to later, when Kimimaro and Kyubi's fight had spilled into ours, and everyone was attacking whoever stood in front of them, with no order or strategy.

Kimimaro swung his sword at blinding speeds—not at Kyubi anymore, but at the rest of us.

More than once, he nearly killed someone, but Kyubi always stopped him just in time.

And the others?

Neji tried to keep fighting, but half-blind and injured, he didn't last long. Tayuya had come out of the waterfall, flanked by the first Doki, and attacked him from his blind side. She pounded him over and over, launching him into one of the stone statues.

With a satisfied sigh, Tayuya raised her flute once more.

We kept fighting.

I made the mistake of ignoring her—of focusing on Kabuto. I wanted to catch him, crush him. I wanted to rip that damn smile off his face with my own hands.

But my body was broken. It overflowed with power, yet none of it could reach him. Every time I was about to finish him off, he slipped away—turning into snakes, diving into the water… cutting me with surgical precision using his chakra scalpels.

One of my attacks—brutal—nearly killed him.

I remember my arm bones shattering like a straw—only to regenerate over the next minute.

Still, it wasn't enough.

Kabuto emerged from the dust with a smile. The waterfall roared behind him. Rocks fell into the lake—huge, heavy. The surface quaked with each one.

I was about to charge. I couldn't.

I heard the melody of a flute. Tayuya had started to play.

The notes pierced my ears, scrambling my senses, weakening my body.

Another auditory genjutsu.

And this time, Shino wasn't there to save me.

"Tell me, Naruto… do you like music?" Kabuto said, waving the smoke away. He faked a cough, though I found nothing funny about his joke.

Then I saw it—he was dragging someone with his other hand: Sakura, held by the arm.

"Personally, I find it fascinating. I know, I know… I don't look like a musician. I wouldn't call myself one. I just know how to play one instrument. Watch."

He formed a hand seal with his free hand, and the one holding Sakura's arm lit up with green chakra.

Wherever he touched, her muscles tore apart.

She screamed in agony.

I screamed in rage.

Kimimaro passed between us just then, when Kyubi landed a punch squarely in his chest. Kimimaro followed him, not even glancing our way.

I collapsed to my knees, and Kabuto crouched in front of me.

"You purged the poison," he said, running his fingers through his damp, loose hair. "Fascinating. Seems your healing factor's better than I thought. I'm glad. Honestly, I may have overdone it with the bite. Could've killed you. And then I would've been so bored. Good boy. You did well surviving."

The flute had stopped playing.

I had… a chance.

If I could just break this damn genjutsu—

Kabuto gently placed his hand on my chest.

"Ranshinshō," he said again.

Once more—electricity and pain surged through my nerves.

"You like the technique?" he asked. "Remember it? No? I learned it from Tsunade. I hate to admit it, but for a relic, her medical ninjutsu is exceptional. It wasn't easy to learn. But here I am."

I stared at his throat—it was so close. I wanted to wrap my fingers around it and squeeze until it snapped. But my body wasn't listening.

I tried one thing—my body did another.

Unwillingly, I lowered my head.

Kabuto raised it again, placing two fingers under my chin.

Up close, I could see how his slit pupils narrowed and widened—like a heartbeat.

"Look at me when I speak," he said, his voice low. "I didn't come all this way for this. Next time you look away, I'll slit your girlfriend's throat. Maybe then you'll understand the position you're in."

Then, just like that, the aggression in his voice disappeared.

He closed his eyes in a smile that felt… genuine.

"That's better. I like it when we understand each other."

Behind him, Sakura had gotten to her feet—staggering, clutching her injured arm. She started creeping closer. Kabuto didn't seem to notice.

"You… why did you come back?" I asked, buying time. "Revenge?"

"Oh, of course. At least in part. You weren't just going to get away with what you did to me—not after burning me like a pest. I can still smell it. The burning flesh… Manda's screams… they shattered my eardrums, you know?" He pointed to his ear with a finger.

"And not just his—Orochimaru's too. I never imagined he could scream like that."

He shrugged.

"I guess you never really know people. But I'll admit, for someone who couldn't use jutsu anymore, he held out pretty well. Want to know how I survived?"

I tried to move again, but couldn't. And my body… I wasn't sure how much longer it would hold up. Even my chakra cloak had shrunk. At this rate…

I glanced at Sakura.

She was right behind Kabuto.

With her free hand, she pressed a finger to her lips, then began gathering chakra.

With a shout, she drove her chakra scalpel toward the back of Kabuto's neck.

But he caught her wrist—without even turning.

"See? This is what I was talking about," he continued casually, yanking her down beside him. Kabuto wrapped an arm around her neck, cheek to cheek, casting a sideways glance her way.

"Back during the exams, I thought your little friend here was hopeless. But turns out, she's learned medical jutsu. Not just that—she's become quite the killer. Impressive. Almost makes me want to keep her as a souvenir."

"Let go of me, you creep…! I'll smash your face in!" she yelled.

"It's a shame you're so young. I like girls with fire in them—especially when they want to kill me. It's a weakness of mine. It's important to know your weaknesses. Gotta be honest with yourself—that's my advice."

Kabuto tightened his grip around her throat until she couldn't speak.

"Now, where was I…? Oh, right. You asked how I survived Jiraiya's technique," he said—though I hadn't asked anything.

"How do you think I did it? Go on—guess!"

He paused for effect, ticking his tongue like a clock.

"No? Nothing? You're no fun. But I forgive you."

I tried again to move—to hit him. To kill him.

My body wouldn't obey.

If I tried moving my left arm, only my right leg twitched…

"Go to hell," I muttered.

Kabuto pretended not to hear.

"Pure luck, really," he said. "When Jiraiya breathed fire on us, I tried hiding inside Manda. Disgusting—all saliva and stomach acid… ugh. I thought I'd die right there. And trust me, it would've killed me to die such a pathetic death. But…"

A glint sparkled in his eye.

"Then the toad sliced Manda in half—right in front of my face! I guess that's what they call divine intervention. A little further away, and I wouldn't have made it. A little closer, and I'd be minced meat."

Suddenly, Sakura headbutted him. Both of them bled.

They struggled.

Kabuto won again.

"I like that you fight back," he said, brushing her nose with his fingertip, "but don't push your luck."

I bit my tongue hard, hoping the pain would wake me. All I got was a mouth full of blood.

"Nope. Doesn't work that way," Kabuto said casually. "It's not like a genjutsu. It's… a little more complicated. I'd explain it, but I don't think—by the way, don't do that again," he told Sakura. "Now I'm seeing stars. Still, I won't make you suffer. It'll be quick. I'm not a cruel man…"

He pinched her cheeks between his thumb and forefinger, forcing her lips together.

"Unless I'm provoked."

I heard a scream.

"My Doki! Kill that bushy-brow and bring me his head!"

I hadn't noticed it until then.

Rock Lee was fighting alone.

It was him against Tayuya, Kimimaro, and all three ogres.

Where the hell was Kyubi?

My heart almost leapt out of my chest.

Honestly, I never knew what happened.

Whether Kimimaro had taken down my shadow clone, or if it vanished when my chakra cloak did. It didn't matter.

What mattered was that Lee was alone.

And none of us could help him.

"Yes! Smash him!"

Tayuya screamed—and her monsters roared back.

But none of them reached Lee.

Because, once surrounded, he raised his eyes to the black sky above—and with a resigned sigh, said:

"Fifth Gate… Gate of Closing."

It was like reliving the fight against Gaara. With an eruption of chakra, Lee vanished.

BAM.

An invisible force struck one of the ogres, vaporizing its head instantly.

The giant beast crashed into the lake, as the second dropped to its knees, a massive hole through its chest.

Lee appeared beside the third—and launched it into the mountain with a single kick.

The impact shook the entire valley…

"Hey. Where do you think you're looking?"

The moment I looked Kabuto in the face, I knew something was terribly wrong.

His smile was gone—along with the mockery in his voice.

And his snake eyes… I saw them contract almost to nothing, his gaze so intense it seemed to crush them.

Some people have shadows on their face.

He had the whole night.

"I warned you. You know I did."

With one hand, he yanked Sakura's hair back and pressed the tip of the other—wrapped in green chakra—against her throat.

"Wait!" I screamed.

"Die, you son of—!"

Sakura slammed her forehead into his again, freeing herself for a moment. She didn't waste it. With her chakra scalpel, she stabbed Kabuto's right eye until it became a black, bleeding hole.

He howled in pain—more still when she tried to stab his neck.

But she didn't manage it. Kabuto was faster.

Grabbing her by the neck, he forced her back down into the water, drowning her.

His jaw trembled. From pain. From rage. I saw his brow furrow as though locked in a terrible inner conflict.

Then I understood.

He had made his decision.

"Don't do it! KABUTO! NO!" I screamed, struggling to move—but my body… still wouldn't obey. His technique was still in effect. I managed to move one arm, just barely lifting it before it dropped again, limp.

Kabuto pulled Sakura's head out of the water, and as she gasped for air, she screamed:

"Naruto, save yourself! Get out of here!"

"Shut up! You're useless to me now!" Kabuto shouted, spitting in her face.

He glanced around—at Lee, struggling to hold off Kimimaro…

Then he screamed like a beast, yanking Sakura's hair until she cried out.

"I warned you, damn it! I told you what would happen if you didn't listen! This wasn't the plan! It was supposed to be better! BUT NOW I HAVE TO DO THIS!"

He punctuated the sentence by slashing her throat with his chakra scalpel.

Blood poured from her neck like a fountain…

I was completely frozen.

The world slowed down. I could almost see each droplet leaving her neck to join the lake…

"R…un…!" she tried to say—but she couldn't speak anymore.

Kabuto had lost his mind.

"See what you made me do?! This is shit! Where's the climax?! I imagined it so many times! This is… too simple!"

He threw Sakura to the side, and she floated face down in the water.

"Congratulations, you ruined everything! Now I'll have to use your other friend—who, I'll remind you, has much less flair!"

He kicked me in the chest and sent me flying. I floated for a second, flat on my back, before crawling toward Sakura.

I turned her over and pulled her into my arms.

But I couldn't even lift her.

Though I was slowly regaining control of my body, I had no strength left.

I could barely stay on my feet. Lifting someone else was impossible.

I couldn't help her.

I couldn't do anything for her.

Nor for Lee—who was now fighting three enemies at once, two of whom were stronger than him.

"SAKURA!" he screamed, desperate.

Then—a huge green flash—

His cry was followed by a deafening crash.

Someone smashed into Madara's statue, blowing a massive hole through it.

That someone was Kimimaro.

If he'd been alive, that would've been the end of him.

But he wasn't. So he came back.

I held Sakura in my arms, knowing there was nothing I could do for her.

I had reached my limit.

My body couldn't bear the weight of Kyubi's chakra anymore.

What little I had left was working to regenerate my shredded muscles, my shattered bones, my aching organs.

I coughed blood—and the droplets fell onto Sakura's forehead.

I wiped them away with my thumb.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

She opened her eyes slightly. But the green behind her lashes soon faded to white.

I remembered what happened in the forest—how she had saved Shikamaru…

How she helped me after Kidomaru shot me with an arrow.

We'd relied on her then.

But now, when she needed me—

I… I didn't know how to heal anyone.

All I knew was how to hurt.

I was vaguely aware of when it happened.

There was a moment when Sakura's chest stopped rising and falling.

Her lashes stopped trembling.

Her lips parted slightly—and stayed that way.

She was dead.

And a part of me died too.

With great effort, I stood up.

My body screamed in protest.

Shut up—I told it—I'm not listening.

I took a step. Then another. On the third, I stumbled.

I wasn't going to make it alone.

"Kage… Bunshin no Jutsu."

A small flame of chakra appeared beside me—but vanished quickly.

All I managed to do was increase the pain.

My heart pounded wildly, and a blinding headache throbbed in my skull.

Meanwhile, Lee was fending off Kabuto and Tayuya—pushing them back with brutal strikes they could barely block.

But his body was nearing its limit. He limped—and Kimimaro, after regenerating the torso Lee had blown apart, was about to rejoin the fight.

Three on one. A certain death.

I knew it.

And so did Lee.

We came to the same conclusion. There was only one way out.

"KAGE BUNSHIN NO JUTSU!" I roared—just as he shouted:

"SIXTH GATE…!"

This time, the red flash took the shape of a human before vanishing, while an intense emerald chakra exploded from Lee, flooding him with incredible power.

But even all the power in the world means nothing—

If you can't use it.

The flute played again.

Lee's gaze blurred, and Kabuto pounced without hesitation.

One, two, three—six rapid strikes with his chakra scalpel, and that was it.

Lee's body hit its exact limit, and he collapsed face-first into the water.

Kimimaro approached him slowly and turned his sword downward. The tip hovered over Lee's neck.

A second passed. Then two. And he lowered it.

"Wait, wait—!" Kabuto grabbed the blade and stopped it.

He and Kimimaro stared at each other for a moment. Then the Kaguya backed away without a word.

Kabuto let out an exaggerated sigh.

"You almost ruined it! But I've got a brilliant idea! That Aburame kid—is he still alive? Tayuya, bring him to me! I'll kill them both right in front of Naruto! Then I'll reanimate them and make him fight them! An Edo Tensei that can open the Gates…! This is even better than the girl!"

There was a moment when no one moved.

Tayuya frowned at him—until Kabuto lowered his voice, pointed at Shino, and said:

"Bring. Me. The boy."

An enormous, icy chakra washed over me.

Tayuya flinched and hurried off, cursing under her breath.

I didn't have much time left.

It had to be now.

My body couldn't take it.

But I didn't care anymore.

"Kage Bunshin no Jutsu."

A shadow clone appeared at my side.

I placed Sakura in his arms.

He took her gently, without a word.

Then, I untied the Leaf headband still hanging from my belt and laid it on Sakura's chest.

I paused for a moment, hoping to feel her breath rise and fall.

But it didn't.

There was no turning back now.

I began to walk.

My gaze swept the valley—up to the giant statues of Madara and Hashirama.

And I remembered the words of the clone from earlier:

"It's just war, kid. One among many."

I almost laughed—bitterly.

I had walked far enough that Kabuto noticed.

He tilted his head, staring at me.

And again, he laughed.

He laughed because he thought he'd won.

That now, he could torture me as much as he pleased—and after my death, bring me back to keep doing it.

But he was wrong.

Because I knew something he didn't.

Kyubi had whispered it to me. A secret between us.

He told me that if I allowed it, the chakra my body kept sealed would pour out like a flood.

He told me that if I stopped resisting—stopped worrying about what would happen to me—that chakra would keep flowing forever, like the waterfall in this valley.

And he told me that if I compressed all of it—all that overwhelming chakra—into the palm of my hand, like I did with the Rasengan, something would happen.

The red chakra would turn black.

Heavier than anything in this world.

Too heavy for two human arms to hold.

He told me I'd need nine tails to do it. They burst from my back and wrapped around the sphere—doubling, tripling, quadrupling its size.

By the time Kabuto realized what I was doing—realized he had to get away—it was already too late.

Too late for all of us.

I aimed forward.

Holding the sphere with my tails, I slammed my right fist into it.

All that power—that chakra—unleashed itself in a beam of black energy.

A Bijuudama. I'd learn that name later.

After razing the valley.

After obliterating the waterfall, the mountain, the stone statues.

After tearing a path into the Land of Rice—a declaration of what I was going to do.

Of the war I was about to start.

But first—

I had to die.

Chapter Text

Part II: Paint the Rice Fields Red

Chapter 23

I buried Sakura on the summit of a hill that rose, isolated, among the plains dominating the Land of Rice. A trail led up to it, one that the lush vegetation made hard to follow, especially in the darkness. As you climbed, the terrain grew steeper and the foliage denser. The final stretch, marked by red torii gates, was easier: it climbed almost in a straight line to a dilapidated wooden altar, dedicated to the worship of an unknown god. By the way it was set, once you stood before it, you saw it cut a solitary shape against the starry sky, with no obstacle—leaf or branch—marring the beautiful view.

When I reached the top, I paused to catch my breath, for my strength had long since failed me, and only sheer will had carried me onward.

Yet it seemed fate that on that very summit, off to one side, stood a cherry tree. And though it was neither tall nor full of life, I could think of no more fitting place for her to rest. Ignoring the protests of my battered body, I dug the grave in the tree's shadow, and when I finished, I laid Sakura inside, tying my headband around her neck to cover the wound that had taken her life.

I spent a long time staring at her. In the faint starlight she seemed asleep, and I half-expected her to open her eyes and call me an idiot, as she always did. I truly hoped she would. But in the end I gave up. With my hands, I filled the grave with earth, and as I did, tears poured from me so fiercely and in such abundance that by the time I was done, I had none left to give her.

Exhausted, I lay down beside the freshly turned, damp soil, and aware that life was slipping from my body, I closed my eyes and let time take over.

I have a memory of that night. A dream, mixed with images from the past.

I was walking through the Valley of the End just as I had seen it when I left: destroyed. The stone giants lay fallen. Nothing remained of them from their knees upward, nor of the mountain behind them: a great "U"-shaped wound stretched like a tunnel as far as the eye could see. And right at the tunnel's entrance, part of Hashirama's head jutted out of the lake. A figure stood watching it—a man in red armor. His long onyx mane whipped behind him when he turned toward me, Hashirama's stone pupil framed behind him like a halo.

I recognized him immediately. I had seen his face carved into one of those giants.

Madara Uchiha walked toward me with slow purpose. Though he was not a tall man, his presence felt far greater than the statue that represented him, as if to see him I would have had to tilt my neck skyward.

That legendary man stopped beside me and looked down. His radiant three‑tome Sharingan spun slowly as he fixed me with a stern gaze.

"This world, kid," he said, his voice hard and commanding, "only responds to one kind of language—and it sure as hell isn't words. Ink fades. Breath vanishes. Promises, dreams, ideals... they break. Fast. And when they do, there's only one thing left that gets the message across."
He locked eyes with me.
"Steel."

Then he looked at Hashirama.

"That 'Will of Fire' you talked about?" he said to the statue. "You had it all wrong. It's not the fire in our hearts—it's the fire that burns the enemy to ash."

Madara closed his eyes for a brief moment, a flicker of something softer crossing his face. But when he opened them, the steel was back. His gaze sharpened.

"When you step back out there—make them pay. For everything."

After that, the dream shifted. I was still in the valley, but there was no trace of Madara or Hashirama's head. Dawn had broken. Reddish-orange clouds drifted over the ruined, shadow‑filled valley where a squad of ninjas had just arrived.

They were shinobi of the Leaf.

I recognized one of them: Gai. Enormous anguish creased his face as the jonin sprinted, shouting Lee's name, toward a heap of rubble. Kakashi followed close behind. In fact, he passed right through me as if I were a ghost; pausing only briefly to look around, he then continued on his way.

I have a vague recollection of seeing Gai kneel beside Neji, and of Kurenai slapping Shino's cheek with an open palm, pleading for him to open his eyes.

Another, fainter memory of Tsunade clenching her fists, cursing my name, lamenting that she was not the one who had gone to that valley.

And I wonder how much of that dream was real. What truly happened in that valley, when everyone saw what I had done?

I wonder if they too saw, as I did, the Nine‑Tails Fox appearing atop the mountain, its immense tails fanned out behind it and its jaws dripping venom…

The dream ended on the same hill where I had fallen asleep. I had been digging a grave for what felt like hours. I dug my nails into the soil until my hands ached. In the end, I had dug so deep that when I looked upward, the grave's mouth looked like another star in the sky. What was I doing? No grave should be that deep. Disturbed by the absurdity of it all, I let out a nervous laugh—only to notice something beneath me. Something protruding from the earth. A lump formed in my throat. Nervously, I scraped away the soil, revealing part of a corpse's face. Like Hashirama's head before, half of my own head emerged from the earth, eyes wide open and devoid of any light.

Chapter Text

I woke up not knowing where I was. For a second I thought she was sleeping beside me. It took me another to remember that I had buried her myself.

An orange dawn greeted me.

Sitting with my legs crossed, I looked up at the same sky I had seen in the dream. Clouds in perfect order. A pale sun peeking through them. Endless rice paddies stretching in every direction. And on the hilltop, just me—alone, beside a still‑fresh grave.

I saw myself buried in that grave again. My heart lurched. My throat went dry. I threw myself atop the mound and began digging until the back of a hand appeared. A pale, small hand.

I gasped.

My fingers trembled when they touched that bit of skin protruding from the earth. Skin identical to mine. Swallowing the lump that had formed in my throat, I tried to unearth it, but Kyubi appeared behind me and grabbed my arm at the elbow to stop me.

He shook his head.
"That's enough. Let the girl rest in peace."

With his foot, he kicked more dirt over that hand. Then he helped—rather, forced—me to stand. I was surprised I could be stood upright, and at that moment I noticed my wounds had vanished. I didn't feel the slightest pain from what had happened the day before. In fact, I felt physically as rested as if I had slept on a feather mattress.

I opened and closed a fist that felt brand new.

Kyubi dusted me off and eyed my torn kimono. His was perfect—advantages of being a shadow clone. He adjusted it with an air of superiority before walking toward the wooden altar. A lone torii gate, also made of wood, preceded it.

"I must admit, you surprised me," he said, resting a hand on one of the gate's posts. "I never thought you could take a bit of my power by force. You even managed to use a Bijūdama. Perhaps I underestimated you, kid."

"You didn't. I still failed. You were right about me."

I stepped forward to inspect the altar. The wood was old and dusty. I traced its cracks with my fingertip, distractedly, while thinking about the valley.

"Is everyone dead, then?"

I expected to feel pain when I spoke those words, but I could not find it.

Kyubi approached, glanced at the altar with disdain, and replied:
"Who knows. My memories are yours. The one with the eyebrows—Lee—Kabuto and he were in the path of the Bijūdama. They're dead, sure. As for the others, it's impossible to know. Maybe they were lucky. Or perhaps you reduced them to dust."

"What about Kimimaro?"

He shrugged, tousled my hair, and turned to admire the view over the rice fields. The breeze at the summit gently rustled his clothes.

"Have you thought about what you want to do?" he asked after a while, his back still toward me.

"I'm going to find them. Sasuke and Hinata…"—I remembered their faces for a moment before continuing—"…I'll comb the entire Land of Sound if I have to, but I'll find them. I swear it."

"And after that?"

"I'll bring them home."

Kyubi gave a dry laugh.

"There's no home to go back to. Not for you. You're a missing-nin now—like it or not."

Above us, the silhouettes of two birds drew near and began circling the hilltop. I followed them with my eyes, thinking.

"I don't care what I am," I said, quietly. "I'll save them anyway."

Kyubi watched as the storks landed on a nearby cherry tree. A faint smile crossed his face.

"This might be a small country… but trying to find a hidden ninja village on your own? That'll take time."

"So I'm on my own, huh?" I stepped up beside him. "And here I thought you were with me."

He looked out at the horizon.

"Guess it's just the two of us, then."

Above, the sky was clearing. The clouds were pulling back, revealing a deep, endless blue.

"We'll figure it out," I said, as the storks spread their wings and took off into the wind.

We descended by a different path than the one I had used to climb. More than a path, it was the remnants of one. It plunged down the hillside, disappearing into the underbrush for stretches before reappearing a few meters on. But now that it was daytime and I was rested, this route seemed easier than the last—and in many ways, it was.

When we reached the bottom, we took another track that wound among the rice paddies. They were an intense green that, along with the blue sky, filled the landscape with color. I found myself admiring how the sunlight danced on the water and how it reflected—like a mirror—the clouds that occasionally drifted overhead.

None of it stirred me.

Along the way, Kyubi and I talked. At first about nothing in particular, but then, by midday when we were looking for something to eat, he explained what had happened in the valley.

"You figured out how to use my power on your own. I'll give you that. But your body? It's not built for it. Like trying to pump too much water into a balloon—only yours is made of twigs and paper."

"With nine tails?" I muttered. "I clearly remember having them."

"Anyone can mess around with chakra to look impressive. You could've given yourself twenty tails and the outcome wouldn't have changed."

He sped up, clearly annoyed. I followed.

"You didn't even tap into half of my power," he growled. "Hell, not even a third. If you had, Kabuto would've been paste."

"You didn't beat Kimimaro either."

He sighed.

"My power as a shadow clone is tied to yours, genius. That's literally how this works. I'm made from your chakra—I can't be stronger than you."

"So I'm stronger than you now?"

"Not even in your dumbest daydream," he said, a glint in his eye. "Want me to prove it? I'll knock you out again."

His reaction made me laugh—maybe from exhaustion, maybe because I was too empty to feel anything else.

"In the valley," I said, changing the subject, "you said my mom would've sealed Kimimaro easily. You meant that?"

"No question. Would've wrapped him up like a spider in a jar."

"Is that how she caught you?"

He gave me a long-suffering look.

"Kushina had… a certain talent with chains."

"Like, metal chains?"

He let out a dramatic sigh.

"Chakra chains, idiot. Kongō Fūsa. Uzumaki sealing technique. Not sure if it would've undone the Edo Tensei, but at the very least, Kimimaro wouldn't have moved a muscle without her say-so."

"Sounds useful."

"Don't get any ideas. I've had plenty of those chains, thanks."

I could feel the sun starting to bite at my skin.

"You ever been around here before?"

He blinked, then smirked.

"Kid, I've been everywhere."

There was a cocky edge to his voice. I guessed after being locked up so long, he had a right to brag a little.

"So tell me about this place."

Kyubi muttered something under his breath, but after a few steps, staring out across the paddies, he said:

"When Konoha was founded, it rattled the whole world. The Senju, Uchiha, Uzumaki—your lot too—all those clans joining forces? Murderers under one roof. Everyone took notice. This country wasn't any different. Its ninja clans teamed up to make their own village."

"Were they strong?"

"Oh yeah. Masters of sake. Real artists. But when it came to fighting? Beginners. Any half-decent Leaf clan could've wiped them out. Maybe one or two had potential."

"What happened to them?"

"Tobirama didn't like his neighbors. Paid them a visit, made sure they dropped the ninja act and went back to brewing rice. By the time he became Hokage, the 'Hidden Village' was just another field."

We walked on. The green opened like a wound across the hills.

"I still don't get why Orochimaru picked this place. Why build a hidden village out here?"

I let my eyes drift across the paddies. They seemed to go on forever.

Kyubi tilted his head.

"Think about it. Close to Konoha, close to the Sand. He even posed as the Kazekage to kick off the war. And who was going to stop him? The farmers? Smart move, really. Though…"—he chuckled—"…if you can't even take down an old man like Hiruzen, maybe you should've stayed home."

A thought struck me.

"You knew the Third?"

"Fought him once. Didn't last long. He was already old and worn out."

"When was that?"

"The night you were born."

"Oh."

We continued walking. We had spotted a small village in the distance and skirted around it. There was no sign of enemy shinobi or of any hiding place—only rice fields. Fields and more fields.

Recalling the dream, I asked:

"What about Madara Uchiha?" I asked. "Did you know him?"

Kyubi's expression darkened instantly.

"Of course I knew that bastard. Why?"

"I saw him. In a dream. He told me to take revenge. Said power is the only thing that gets results."

"And you needed him to tell you that?" Kyubi scoffed. "Come on, kid. This world's never been about justice or dreams. It runs on force. Always has."

"It's just… weird. I'd never really seen his face before—just the statue in the valley and a couple drawings in old books. But in the dream… it felt real. Like I'd actually met him."

Kyubi snorted.

"Must've been one of my memories. We're linked now. You might start seeing some of the junk floating in my head, same way I've seen yours."

"You think that's possible?"

"I'm a fox, not a Yamanaka. You want someone to poke around your brain? Ask one of them. Though I'm pretty sure they'd tell you it's empty."

We walked in silence. From time to time, the clone would say something: a joke, a fact, a warning. And I… nodded. As if I were truly listening. A couple of times I caught myself turning my head, expecting a different voice. Her voice. An indignant comment, or a stifled laugh. I stopped when I realized. She was gone. And I still found myself waiting the same way.

We saw another village, larger than the last. We watched it from a distance, and after discussing it, decided to visit in search of information and perhaps a hot meal.

The village emerged through the midday haze like a blotch of color: wooden roofs, cooking smoke, white banners hanging from tilted poles.

For a second, I surprised myself wanting… something. Rest, maybe. A normal conversation. A bowl of hot rice.

I smiled without realizing it. But it felt like moving a stiff muscle. The smile cracked before it reached my face.

I touched my chest, expecting to feel something beneath. I decided to keep walking.

I was still wearing my torn clothes, so I stole a new set from a clothesline draped by one of the houses. They were gray, simple, and had a pleasantly traditional look. The clean, light fabric felt good against my skin. After hiding my old clothes under some stones, I ran my fingers through my hair and set off through the village.

There must have been about twenty houses. All of wood, and by their appearance, relatively new. They formed a kind of circle around a very large central house that must belong to someone important. An elderly woman sat outside in a chair; her wrinkled eyes followed me when I passed the door.

I soon realized that the rest of the people I crossed paths with also stared—some with curiosity, others with hostility.

"We're drawing too much attention," I said to Kyubi, staring at him when I saw his appearance had changed. Now he looked like a roughly adult version of me, only with longer, unkempt hair. "What are you doing?" I asked, to which he replied, putting a hand on my shoulder and guiding me toward one of the houses:

"A kid draws less notice when he's with his father," he said, opening the door, "now, let's get something warm to eat."

It was one of the village's largest buildings. When Kyubi opened the door and I noticed the bustle inside, I realized it was an inn. Then I saw the small sign by the door: RINA'S KITCHEN, and my stomach growled so loudly I rushed inside.

Inside, the atmosphere was warm. An amber light bathed the room, and I could see specks of dust floating in the shafts of sunlight streaming through the windows. There were more people than one would expect in such a small village. The fact that only a few heads turned to look at us indicated that outsiders weren't that unusual around these parts.

I counted about fifteen tables, all occupied except two. After nodding a greeting to the plump woman behind the counter, we took the most secluded table—a square slab of dark wood large enough for four. We sat just as the woman finished serving drinks at the bar. Then she came to take our order.

"You're new here, right?" she said with a smile framed by dimples. Her face was round and pleasant, her cheeks easily flushed. "I'm Rina. What can I get you?"

"Sake for me and water for the boy," Kyubi replied before I could speak. "And something meaty for both of us. A large portion. We're hungry."

Rina bowed quickly. Her hair was tied in a ponytail down to her shoulder blades; her bangs cut straight across her eyebrows. She wore simple brown garments under a moss‑green apron stained with flour.

"On it!" she said cheerfully, her ponytail swaying behind her.

Kyubi drummed his fingers on the table.

"Anyway, kid, keep your eyes and ears open—time to gather information."

"Well, you'll tell me what we do?" I said, crossing my arms and leaning back in my chair.""Do we ask them, 'Hey, where's the nearest ninja hideout?'?"

A kick under the table interrupted me, and I lowered my voice.

"What I mean is, these folks don't look like they know anything about ninja."

"We're not looking for ninja. We're looking for the daimyo," he replied.

"The who?"

I was about to answer, but Rina came over with our drinks. She set a large glass of water before me and an unmarked bottle of sake and a small cup before Kyubi. She opened the bottle for him, made a friendly remark about how much we looked alike, then hummed a tune as she left.

Kyubi poured himself a slow measure of sake, inhaled its aroma, and then tasted it.

"Excellent," he said approvingly. "If there's one good thing about this country, it's that even a rustic inn like this serves fine sake. Makes me wonder what they have at the palace."

"Since when do you drink? Should you even be drinking?" I leaned closer to him. "If you'd rather just lap it straight from the plate…"

Before I could finish, he pinched my nose with incredible force.

"If you like, I could just rip it off. You'd look prettier without it."

"No, that's not necessary!" I squeaked, and he let go. I rubbed my nose, wincing, then pressed on. "Are you planning to go after the daimyo?"

"Who else?" he replied. "Hidden Villages are called that because they're hidden, in case you hadn't noticed. We could spend months hunting down one of their hideouts, and there are probably several. But the daimyo will know where they are. If not all, at least the main one. We start there."

"I doubt he'll give up that information willingly."

"We won't ask."

We fell silent as Rina returned with a heavy, steaming platter piled mostly with chicken. She set it in the center of the table, then brought back two plates and utensils.

"Enjoy, you two!"

We thanked her. I was surprised Kyubi did, too—playing along with the human role seemed to suit him, though after what he'd done to my nose, I thought better of commenting.

"If you have a plan," I said, "I'm all ears."

"I do," he said, downing the sake in one gulp. "We find his palace. Then we find him. We hang him upside‑down from a tree and ask our questions. If he answers, great. If not, we beat him until he does. Then we head to the hideout where your friends are and pull them out. Simple."

"Suppose they're not there."

"Then we hang the daimyo again—only this time by the neck. Why so negative?"

He piled his plate high with meat. He grabbed a chicken drumstick and devoured it in the largest bite I'd ever seen.

I also loaded my plate. The delicious aroma hit my face, and my stomach growled so loudly that I shoved food in my mouth, chewing with my eyes fixed on the table. Neither of us spoke until we'd finished the entire platter, at which point we asked Rina for another. She looked delighted.

"You like it? I made it myself!"

"Delicious," I mumbled with my mouth full—though with less enthusiasm than I would have liked.

I ate without thinking. Chewing gave me something to do. She spoke, and I nodded. I wasn't listening. I didn't care.

"Can I have another, Rina?" Kyubi asked, waving the nearly empty sake bottle. His smile made the woman blush, and after nodding, she hurried back to the bar.

"You're very polite with her," I said to Kyubi.

"It's called manners. I know that might be a mystery to you. Now eat."

"Can it really be that… you're into humans?" I leaned closer.

He finished chewing the chicken in his mouth, placed the clean bone on the plate, and lowered his voice conspiratorially.

"No. And if you ask again, I'll eat you just like I did this chicken."

A thunderous crash cut off my reply. A man had burst through the door, six more ruffians trailing behind him. They were all dressed in black and looked dangerous; the one who had slammed the door—a guy in his twenties, with a shaved head and two earrings in his left ear—banged his fist on the bar.

"Well, well, Rina! Looking as lovely as ever!" he drawled. His companions snickered. "My friends and I are parched. Give us some sake, will you?"

"I'll have a beer," said another, a large bearded man. Though there was plenty of space at the bar, he elbowed someone aside and hoisted him by the throat as if he weighed nothing, toppling another table in the process. "Ha! Pour me a big mug, Rina!"

"And some food, something good. We're starving." said the first man, leaning over the bar to wink at Rina. "On the house, of course."

She looked terrified. She was uncorking the sake Kyubi had ordered when one of the men snatched the bottle and began guzzling it. She cast us an apologetic glance.

The others settled behind the bar, as comfortable as if they owned the place. They were loud—none bothered to keep their voices down—and one of them, a muscular fellow with a neck‑length beard, laughed so loudly that my skull rattled.

"These guys…" I muttered, weary. I was about to stand when Kyubi stopped me with a hand on my arm.

A shadow flickered across his gaze. Looking at him felt like seeing my own face—only a few years older. Kyubi downed the sake and rose deliberately, the plates clinking beneath him.

"Stay here."

"Where are you going?"

"That bottle's mine."

After straightening his kimono, he strolled to the bar. The atmosphere in the room, which had been tense since the men arrived, now thickened like cream. Conversations at the other tables had died; every eye was on the confident young blond who took the only empty chair between two of the men.

To his left, the bearded man was toying with a kunai, its tip resting on the bar and the handle balanced on his index finger. Beside the kunai sat a frothy mug of beer next to an empty one.

"What the hell do you want? You looking for a fight?" he growled, his voice rough with smoke and foam caked in his beard. Kyubi didn't answer; he eased himself into the chair, nudged the empty mug aside with a finger, and said to the waitress:

"Correct me if I'm wrong, Rina, but I believe that bottle over there is mine."

He nodded toward the man on his right, who was topping up his sake. This was a skinny fellow with a distinctive nose and a long black braid down to his chest. His sleeveless black shirt exposed a long, ugly scar running from his shoulder down past his elbow.

Kyo—so he was called—swigged the sake in one breath, played with his braid, and turned to the blond.

"Hey, Toshio," he said to the bearded man, "who's this dude? Your friend?"

The other men listened closely. Two rose and formed a semicircle behind Kyubi—though he didn't glance at them or at the swords hanging from their waists, their grips already tight.

Toshio stroked his beard, lit a cigarette, and flicked ash.

"A dead man," he sneered. "Let's run him through and take everything he's got."

"Sounds good to me," one of the swordsmen said, drawing his blade partially from its sheath.

At that moment, Rina intervened. With trembling hands she set two opened sake bottles on the table—one before Toshio, the other before Kyubi.

"Here's your bottle," she said, nudging it toward him. "On the house. Now go back to your table, please… these gentlemen don't like to be disturbed."

The swordsman sheathed his weapon fully. Kyubi accepted the bottle without a word. He and Rina exchanged a look that felt interminable.

Kyo cackled, high‑pitched and jarring.

"Ha! Did you hear that, boys? We're gentlemen now!"

Some of the men raised their glasses in mock celebration. Toshio shook his head and buried his nose in his beer mug until it was empty.

"All right, then," he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, "let's butcher him like a pig. Not here, fool!"—he jabbed a finger at the swordsman— "This woman served us drinks, and you're thinking of making a mess of her place? Show some respect. We're… gentlemen."

Laughing at his own "joke," Toshio staggered to his feet, teetering, and leveled his kunai at Kyubi.

"Let's take it outside, kid. Either you show yourself or we drag you out. And I'd watch your step if I were you—unless you want something to happen to that brat over there."

He was referring to me. I watched from the table, amused by the absurdity of it all. I thought if those goons had any inkling of whom they faced, they'd have turned tail and run. Yet here they were, threatening him with weapons I could tell at a glance they barely knew how to wield.

When one drew his sword and placed its flat blade against Kyubi's nape, a low murmur rippled through the room. Rina begged them not to kill him. But these men revelled in the moment, seeing themselves teaching a would‑be hero a lesson—especially Toshio, who was drunk but whose thirst for blood I felt from the table.

Yet his rage betrayed him; he was clumsy and small, like a cornered dog whose fury made him forget his size.

Now impatience was taking over, since Kyubi didn't even glance at him or the others — and it was clear that being ignored was driving him mad. His face reddened from the beer and sake; he must have been drunk long before crossing the inn's threshold.

Toshio pressed the kunai to Kyubi's throat and opened his mouth to speak, but Kyubi spun toward him and, gripping the blade's edge, crushed it with a single, powerful squeeze.

"You really don't know your place, do you?" he said, smiling as Toshio stumbled back, terrified, tripping over his own chair. Then the sword that had rested at Kyubi's nape rose high and fell like a guillotine—Kyubi leaned back, headbutting Kyo in the nose as the blade passed inches from his own and sank into the bar.

"What a pity," Kyubi said, unperturbed. "You've lost your weapon."

The swordsman yanked the hilt, but the blade wouldn't budge—not because it was stuck in wood, but because Kyubi held it from behind with two fingers, his touch gentle yet immovable, as if a boulder weighed upon it.

"Come on, put some oomph into it—you almost had it!" Kyubi teased, enjoying the man's futile struggle. The man gave up and dropped the sword; his companions closed in, some bloodthirsty, others uneasy.

Toshio and Kyo rose simultaneously. The bearded man was as confused as he was furious; without speaking, he drew another kunai and grabbed it like a dagger, muttering threats I couldn't catch from the table. The other, nose still bleeding, flipped his braid over his shoulder and brought his fists up in a tight guard, flexing small but trained muscles.

"You'd better watch yourselves," Kyo warned. "He's a ninja."

Despite their thug‑like airs, those two were sharper than the rest.

"What village are you from, bastard? What rank?" another cried, glancing wildly around as if fearing that ninjas might suddenly swarm them. But all he saw was me—and I greeted him by waving a chicken drumstick, then swallowed it whole.

They exchanged uneasy glances. The other patrons were slipping out the door, dragging chairs and knocking over bottles as they left.

Rina, for her part, retreated into the kitchen; I thought I saw something metal glint in her hands before she disappeared.

The group closed in on Kyubi, who seemed thoroughly entertained by the spectacle. I figured it was best to end this before it turned into a bloodbath. As the customers fled, dragging chairs and scattering bottles, I stared at my empty plate. Doesn't matter, I thought. Kyubi will handle it.

I thought of the daimyo. Of Sasuke. Of Hinata. Of Sakura. I thought how far away it all now seemed. The sound of a body collapsing brought me back. I looked up just as Toshio, his arm twisted at an impossible angle, began shrieking in pain on the floor.

Kyubi leaned against the bar, resting his elbows on it.

"All bark and no bite — pathetic lot, the lot of you", he said with a wolfish grin.

Amid cries of agony, the others lunged at him. None lasted long. I saw a knee buckle backward. The shaved‑head man lost several teeth from one punch. Another doubled over clutching his stomach, then slumped onto his side.

A third man flew backward, crashing through a table beside my own. Surprisingly, he staggered to his feet—dazed—and, glancing around, locked eyes with me. I could almost see a light bulb go off above his head as he hatched a plan in his mind to extricate himself from this mess. Nervously, he looked back at Kyubi, who was deflecting Kyo's blows as effortlessly as someone brushing away a fly. Then he looked at me.

His hand darted to his katana—only to find it gone. He drew the wakizashi at his waist instead, leaving the empty scabbard of his sword swinging beside it.

"Hey," I said, "don't do that."

His lips curled into a sneer. The fool had taken my warning for a plea. While Kyubi was distracted, tightening Kyo's braid around his throat, the man bolted toward me, slipped behind my chair, and pressed the wakizashi's edge against my neck, shouting,

"Stop or I'll slit the kid's throat!"

His voice echoed through the now‑empty inn. All his comrades lay strewn across the floor, save for Kyo, whose eyes were rolling back as he lost consciousness.

But the shout worked. Kyubi looked up, surprised, as if weighing his options.

"Let him go. Slowly. Or I'll end him right here, and you'll be the next to fall", the thug hissed.

There was no answer—only a faint tremor at the corner of Kyubi's mouth, repeating once, twice, thrice, before blooming into a smile. He unclenched his fingers, and Kyo collapsed face‑down, gasping for breath—though the moment Kyubi stepped on his head, the gasping stopped.

I heard the man behind me jerk back. Then, as Kyubi's grin widened and he burst into raucous laughter, the wakizashi at my throat began to quiver—and I grew tired of the situation.

"Laughing, scum? Watch me kill your son! I'll open him up like a fish!"

Kyubi's smile vanished instantly.

"With what weapon?" he asked quietly.

The man let out a choked scream when he realized his wakizashi was no longer in his hand—but in mine. He hadn't seen it coming. It was far too easy.

I tapped the tip of the wakizashi with my middle fingertip. It wasn't that sharp.

"You too? You're a ninja as well?" I said. The man—now fully aware of his predicament—tried to retreat, but before he could move, I stood and knocked him out with a single punch to the gut.

He fell like a sack of potatoes.

Kyubi chuckled, then sat back down and resumed sipping his sake.

I exhaled and sank into the seat beside him.

"You overdid it a bit," I murmured.

"Not a single mortal wound," he replied, a satisfied gleam in his eye. "At worst, a couple of broken bones."

In the ninja world, that counted as diplomacy.

Rina reappeared, sweating and clutching a kitchen cleaver in both hands—ready to use it on anyone who moved. But when she saw the carnage, she lowered the blade, stunned.

"Did you…? Did you do all this on your own?" she asked.

Kyubi shrugged.

"They weren't much of a challenge. Pass me a glass?"

Still shaken, she set a glass of water before me and a cup of sake before Kyubi. Behind us, one of the thugs groaned, stirring on the floor. Rina and I exchanged a look; aside from the criminals, we were the only ones left in the inn.

"You're… a shinobi," Rina said. "Those men… they've been tormenting us for weeks. God, we tried to drive them off, but this village has no ninja to help."

She eyed us warily. I opened my mouth to lie, but Kyubi beat me to it.

"We're from Konoha," he said—and she flinched— "but don't worry, we're not enemies. We just deserted."

"They're deserters, too—ninjas under the daimyo," Rina replied. She frowned, thinking it over. When she spoke again, her expression had softened.

"But I suppose you're not like them," she said.

That night, Rina insisted we share her meal and even offered us a room. I wondered if she sensed we had no money, or if she simply felt grateful. But Kyubi declined her generosity. Instead, he plucked a pouch of coins from Toshio's belt and paid with those.

Later, after the ruffians had departed—some on foot, others carried by their comrades—she hurried to clean up the wreckage, refusing my help.

"You've done enough already," she said, sweeping up broken bottles.

It was then, at the nape of her neck, that I noticed the end of a long scar winding across her shoulders and down her back—the unmistakable mark of fire. I thought to ask about it, but the memory of Kabuto's laughter beneath the water clouded my heart just long enough for her to slip back into the kitchen.

The sun sank behind the hills, and the inn grew dim. Rina wiped the bar with a damp rag. I adjusted the stolen kimono—it hung a bit loose on me—and tried to catch another glimpse of her scars, but her now-loose hair hid them well.

Kyubi stood and placed the pouch of remaining coins on the bar. Rina moved to refuse it, but he said,

"I'm sure they owed you far more. They won't bother you again."

I heard her say thanks, her voice laced with worry.

Outside, a reddish dust stirred among the rice fields.

"Come on, kid. We have an appointment."

As Kyubi strode away, his wide sleeves swaying, I reached to touch my forehead protector—an instinctive gesture, done without thought. But it wasn't there. Then it hit me with a jolt: I'd buried it alongside Sakura—and with it, the best part of me.

Chapter Text

Kyubi slid open the door, which groaned in protest as if we'd awoken it from a long slumber. A stale stench of dampness and liquor hit us in the face, and while my eyes adjusted to the darkness inside, I strained my ears for any sound. Nothing. Just the wind whispering outside, and silence waiting within. After one last glance at the house—an old family residence on the outskirts of the village—I followed Kyubi inside, the floorboards creaking under every step.

The air was thick with dust; beams of light filtered in through the shoji at the back of the room, and in them, motes floated like tiny stars. To the left was a staircase leading to the second floor; to the right, the tokonoma, empty except for a hanging scroll with a simple painting.

Someone had stabbed a kunai into the scroll, tearing part of it down the middle.

The floor was littered with empty bottles of liquor. Judging by the amount, those guys had spent the whole night drinking, which explained the stench in the room and the stains on the tatami. There were bowls with leftover rice, and a katana with a dulled blade stained in old blood.

Careful not to step on anything, I approached the sword, while Kyubi examined the scroll. The hilt was grimy and the blade blunt. I ran a fingertip along its edge without cutting myself. Someone had used it until it was ruined and then tossed it aside with the rest of the trash. I felt sorry for it.

Without saying a word, I found the sheath near the stairs and fastened it to my belt along with the sword. I looked up the staircase: more darkness.

"Hey, kid, come look at this," Kyubi murmured, arms crossed in front of the painting. He had noticed my sword but said nothing about it. I stood next to him and looked at the artwork.

"I don't know anything about art," I said.

"Just look closely."

The painting depicted two brothers. Judging by their identical faces, they had to be twins, but the similarities ended there—everything else about them was opposite.

The one on the left was laughing. His hair was tied in a lustrous topknot, and he wore a richly decorated kimono. He held out a bowl of sake toward his brother, who stood quietly, a serene expression on his face and a drawn katana in his hand.

Instead of lavish robes, the second wore a simple black armor that left only his face visible. He had a topknot too, but unlike his brother's, it didn't shine. On the contrary, his hair looked like it had returned from some battlefield. But what stood out most about this man—what caught my eye—was what he held in his hands.

In his left, a sword. In his right, a mask.

Black, with no decoration other than the eye holes.

"That mask…" I said, my throat dry. "It's the same as the ones they wore."

Kyubi nodded, pulling the kunai from the scroll and weighing it in his hand.

"Our little friends aren't anything new, it seems. Look at the state of that paper. This is an old painting. And the one on the left…"

"He looks like one of those rich types… a noble, maybe."

He nodded again, pleased.

"A noble, buying someone's services," he said, taking down the scroll for a closer look. "How interesting."

He rolled up the scroll and tucked it into his kimono. Then he headed toward the stairs, now moving in complete silence. Kyubi could be eerily quiet when he wanted to be; like a predator stalking its prey, his feet slid across the floor without making a sound—even I couldn't hear him.

Halfway up the stairs, he paused and looked back at me. His eyes, which appeared blue in public, had returned to their original red, glowing faintly in the gloom.

A white grin appeared beneath them.

"Do you hear them, Naruto?" he whispered, and then silence. I heard deep breathing from the floor above, followed by a long snore. "I thought they'd be waiting for us, but no… they're sleeping like babies."

Kyubi chuckled to himself and ascended the stairs, with me right behind him. The second floor was even darker than the first. There were three rooms; one of them had the door open, and the snoring came from there. Now that my eyes had adjusted to the lack of light, I could make out the men inside. They were sprawled on the floor haphazardly, surrounded by empty bottles and scraps of food. Their weapons were piled in a corner; when Kyubi saw them, he pointed at the pile and stifled a laugh.

We walked among them. Of the seven we'd seen at the inn, only five were here; one of them was Toshio, the bearded guy who had started the fight. Someone had bandaged his arm, though very poorly; one strip hung loose while the rest were wrapped too tightly, bunched awkwardly together.

Kyubi crouched beside him and carefully reached for the object Toshio was clutching. It was a sword. Gripping the hilt, he slowly unsheathed it; the blade hissed past its owner's nose without waking him.

With a grunt, Toshio hugged the scabbard and began to turn over, but Kyubi stopped him with one hand. After examining the blade up close, he laid it flat beneath the man's throat and whispered with a hint of mockery:

"Wake up, little one. Your nightmare has arrived."

Bit by bit, he pressed the blade into his skin until it began to bleed. Toshio, awakened by the pain, started to scream, his eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets.

"Demon! A demon!"

I understood that he'd seen Kyubi's eyes the moment he woke. No doubt, with the way they glowed and those slit pupils, they didn't resemble anything human. Toshio's screams woke the other bandits, who groggily began to rise from their drunken stupor. He reached for a sword that was no longer there, and when he saw it pressed against his throat, he froze, color draining from his face.

"You… I know you," he said, overwhelmed. "What are you… what are you doing here?"

Meanwhile, the others began realizing what was happening. One of them, a bald man, bolted toward the weapons pile, but I reached him first, catching his hand before he could grab anything.

"Trust me, it wouldn't do you any good," I said. "Better stay still."

"Let go of me, you little…!" he shouted, revealing the teeth Kyubi had knocked out back at the inn. I was already thinking about finishing that job when another of his companions—still stumbling, more drunk than alert—leaned against the wall and warned:

"Do what he says… We can't do anything."

It was the same guy who'd held a sword to my throat at the inn. When he spoke, the others gave up their will to fight. They were, after all, terrified.

And with good reason. A crimson chakra flowed from Kyubi, giving him a spectral presence in the darkness of the room.

Terrified, they all watched him help Toshio to his feet.

"There you go, slowly," he said. "God, you reek of alcohol. Is this really what you want out of life? Aim a little higher, worm." He dusted off the man's shoulders. "How's that arm?"

Then he flipped the sword around and slid it into the sheath Toshio was still holding between his chest and his injured arm. Satisfied, Kyubi gave him a few pats on the shoulder and looked him in the eye.

"Now, tell me. Where are the others?"

The man mumbled something incoherent.

"No, not like that. Speak up so I can hear you."

"I-In the garden. They're in the garden."

"You sure about that?" Kyubi asked, staring at him intently.

"Y-Yes."

The other three exchanged glances. I'd released the bald man, who was now rubbing his wrist in pain. I saw him glance at the door, then at the weapon pile, then at me. I shook my head, making sure he saw it, and he lowered his gaze.

"Good boy," Kyubi said softly. He headed for the open door, and before stepping out, told me, "I'll get the rest. Watch these ones in the meantime. Wouldn't want them wandering off."

Without another word, he left. I was alone with the five bandits. Together, we listened to Kyubi's footsteps—deliberately loud—fading down the stairs.

When the floorboards stopped creaking, all eyes turned to me.

I felt the weight of their stares, like the air had grown thicker.

There was a silence. Toshio weighed his sword… and his options. I placed my right hand on my own hilt. It was a surprisingly comforting gesture.

"I know what you're thinking," I said. "And the answer is no. I'd beat you senseless, and you know it."

"What I know is he's going to kill us when he's done," said the bald man, breathing heavily. "I can recognize a killer when I see one—and his face gives me chills. No way. I'd rather take my chances with you than wait for him to come back. Right?"

He was talking to his companions. Alarmed glances turned into something more unified. Toshio drew his sword and pointed it at me.

"You're right. We've got no choice."

I sighed.

"You guys really are hopeless," I said, drawing mine.

It was over quickly. They all rushed me at once, yelling like they were charging into war. Toshio swung at me, but I countered with a blow of my own. My blade didn't cut—it shattered his. The clash of metal rang through the room, and by the time the sound faded, the five men were already on the floor.

As I pulled my sword free, I also released chakra—a violent red current that sent them all flying back. The wood groaned from the impact, dazing them for a moment. One of them didn't get up—he lay sprawled on the floor, unconscious. Then the others tried to rise.

"What was that…?" the bald one muttered. His voice trailed off as he noticed the red chakra swirling around me—just like Kyubi's. "Shit, that chakra… it's the same as his."

Beside him, Toshio clutched his injured arm in pain—he'd fallen on it—and with trembling knees, slowly backed toward the door.

"You guys… who the hell are you?"

"And what if… what if they're with them?"

"If they came looking for us, we're screwed."

"Shut up!" snapped Toshio. "If that were the case, we wouldn't have throats left to talk. No… you're an outsider, aren't you, kid? You reek of ninja. A Konoha ninja."

The mention of my village made them all uneasy. The bald man gritted his remaining teeth and spat:

"Konoha? What the hell would some ninja want with us? We haven't done anything!"

"That's right. We're not with the daimyo anymore. We're not with anyone."

"Not anymore?" I asked, remembering how Rina had called them. "So you're deserters?"

"Deserters…" Toshio muttered. "All we did was save our own skins."

"So you ran."

"We did what we had to do to survive," the bald man growled. "Nothing more, nothing less."

"And that means going around terrorizing villages. Drinking like… animals," I said, nodding toward the bottles. "You look like third-rate bandits to me. There are plenty of those in the world. Maybe today there'll be five fewer."

Toshio cursed under his breath.

"And what the hell do you care what we do? You some kind of priest? Didn't you rob us blind after beating the crap out of us? You left one of us crippled for life! I'll never be able to wield a sword again!" he yelled, pointing to his injured arm.

I laughed.

"Honestly, it didn't look like you knew how to before."

"Oh, sorry for not being a damn ninja. You think you're better than us, huh? With your… chakra and those freak eyes. What are you, one of those Uchihas?"

I figured the man had never seen a real Sharingan in his life.

"No, but I'm looking for one. In fact, I'm looking for two people. Some masked guys attacked us in the valley and took them. We're here to get them back."

Toshio frowned deeply. The bald man did too. They exchanged a glance.

"Masked guys?" he asked tentatively.

"Ninjas with black masks. I think they're working with the Sound."

"They are," the bald one replied.

"Dammit, Yosuke, shut your mouth."

"What do you want me to do, Toshio? If we tell them something, maybe they'll—"

Tap.

Footsteps echoed from the stairs. Each one followed by a hiss and a dull thud.

Tap. Shh. Tap.

Step by step, the sound drew closer. More uneasy glances were exchanged. Toshio backed away from the door as far as he could and muttered under his breath:

"We're done for."

A shadow emerged from the staircase—Kyubi, dragging a man by the hair, his eyes gleaming like those of a wild beast.

"Earlier, you asked who we were," I said to Toshio, stepping closer, lowering my voice. "I guess I should tell you. My name's Naruto. Like you said, I was a ninja from Konoha. Right now… just a traveler."

He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. I smiled.

"As for him… well, I don't know what kind of stories they tell in your country. But in Konoha, there's one about a certain fox. One with nine tails. We call him Kyubi. That ring a bell?"

The color drained from his face in an instant.

"Of course it does," I said.

At that moment, Kyubi entered the room and tossed the guy with the braid—Kyo—onto the floor in front of him.

"Well, worms," said Kyubi, sitting down on top of Kyo, "it's time you answered a few questions."

A sharp silence fell over the room. No one objected again.

Question by question, those men told us their story. They had once been civilians, all from different villages, but equally poor. Life in the Land of Rice, they said, wasn't as prosperous as it used to be—unless you were a noble or had the right connections. For everyone else, there were only two choices: break your back for a few coins… or join the Kurodan, the daimyo's masked army.

The Black Squad, they called it. An elite group trained more for death than for victory. One that anyone could join, regardless of their past—all you had to do was ask.

"They take anyone," said Toshio. "Ninjas, civilians, criminals… especially criminals. Doesn't matter how old you are either. Lots of kids… more than you'd think. Don't know how to use a weapon? Don't worry, they'll teach you where it cuts. Can't hold a sword? They'll hand you a kunai so you can defend yourself… and they pay well. Better than anyone else in this country, at least."

"The training," said Yosuke, "is hell. They wake you at dawn, and you don't stop till sundown. And in between, you fight. You fight, and fight… at first against instructors, until they throw you into one of those holes in the mountains and…"

"That's where you fight your comrades," said Kyo. "If you survive, good. If not, someone else will survive in your place. Toshio and I… we lasted a while. But one night, we ran. We warned the rest of the camp about what was happening in the pits… most didn't care, but some of us left."

"They didn't try to stop you?" I asked.

Toshio shook his head.

"The higher-ups had left. Took all the new recruits with them. Dozens of them… fresh meat. Off on some mission. The few who stayed behind didn't pay us any mind. We slipped away without a fight."

I remembered fighting those "Kurodan." The way they fought… it was like a well-oiled machine, but the skill level between them varied wildly. In a traditional squad, only the captain stands out—but with them… some fought almost like jonin, while others barely matched a kid fresh out of the Academy.

A sudden realization hit me. Had I been fighting civilians? People who had no other choice but to become ninjas for money?

I clenched one hand over the other until my fingers dug into my skin. That girl in the woods… God, what have I been doing?

Kyubi, on the other hand, didn't seem impressed by the information.

"What are those holes?"

The bandits mentioned hideouts in the mountains—underground complexes hidden in plain sight, some abandoned, others teeming with ninja. It seemed that all of them together made up the village of the Sound.

A question formed in my mind, pushing aside the thoughts that had plagued me until then: What if they—Sasuke and Hinata—are in one of those hideouts?

I had no way of knowing, but I didn't have any other leads either. I sprang to my feet.

"That training camp—where is it?" I asked.

I saw Kyubi's grin widen.

At first, they refused. They told us they would never go back there—that if they did, they'd most likely end up dead. Kyubi replied that if they didn't obey, that probability would become a certainty. With an argument like that, they had no choice but to cooperate.

We left the house through the back door, which opened into a garden with a koi pond. Like the rest of the house, it must have been beautiful once, before time dried up the plants and algae turned the water green. We hopped over the low wooden fence surrounding the garden and set out at a brisk pace, the group in front, with us at their heels.

The rice fields stretched past one after another. We went east, then north. The landscape grew greener and greener. We sprinted across a plain and entered a forest filled with tall, narrow trees. It was like no forest I'd ever seen. The trees were arranged in perfect symmetry, an obviously man-made order. Every step looked the same as the last, and once inside, no matter where you looked, you only saw more of the same. At the end of the forest rose a mountain shaped like an upside-down U. Beneath it, they told us, was what we were looking for.

"We're not going back in there," Toshio warned. "I'd rather you kill me than get locked up again."

He shrank back a little when Kyubi patted his head.

"Well said, worm. A man's gotta fight for his freedom. Now…"

He stepped closer to the group, scanning their faces one by one, paying special attention to Toshio's. When he locked eyes with him, his irises turned from blue to red again, but luckily for the bearded man, it only lasted a moment.

"I'll remember your scent," he said. "If I want to find you again, I will. Understand?"

"Y-yes."

"Good boys. Now run along before I change my mind."

Once they understood he was serious, the group bolted, running back through the forest the way we had come. I watched them disappear among the trees.

"Are you sure letting them go is a good idea? They might go after Rina."

"Someone's been following us for most of the way. They won't make it home."

I stared at him. He wasn't joking.

"Then why threaten them?"

"A worm's no fun if it doesn't squirm."

The disapproving look I gave him had no effect.

"Now that I think about it," I said, "one of them was missing."

"Oh?"

"There were seven at the inn. One… you broke one's leg. We didn't see him at the house."

He waved it off and resumed walking toward the mountain. I followed. We ran side by side, much faster now that the bandits weren't slowing us down.

"Did you kill him?" I asked, remembering how terrified Kyo had looked during the interrogation.

"Does it matter?"

"It does to me."

His response was a grin full of fangs.

We kept running.

The mountain loomed larger and larger. It was no longer just a silhouette against the sky but a living, breathing mass, carved with cracks like the scars of an old warrior. We approached one of those cracks, right at the base: a crescent-shaped rock formation that hid what we were looking for.

That "camp" had little military about it. No guards, no palisades—just a weathered stone wall covered in moss, and a wooden gate hanging crookedly from its hinges.

We stopped in front of it.

Kyubi sniffed the air discreetly.

"There's blood here. Not fresh, but not old either."

I stepped up to the gate. The wood had been slashed by something extremely sharp, and there were splatters of blood in several places, already dry but still red. Kyubi crouched next to it and sniffed again.

"I know this scent," he said.

My heart pounded—I feared the worst.

"Is it theirs?" I asked, thinking of Sasuke and Hinata.

"No, kid. I don't know whose it is. I think… I smelled it in the valley."

A shiver ran down my spine. My mind jumped to Kabuto, then to Kimimaro. But it couldn't be—I told myself—I'd killed them with my own hands.

I clenched my jaw. Felt pain, followed by impatience. I pressed my hand against the gate. Then I made a fist and slammed it into the wood until it cracked.

We entered.

Inside, it was dark. We were in a narrow tunnel, barely wide enough to walk through sideways. The air was stale, thick with moss and death. Water dripped from the ceiling in tiny drops that echoed clearly through the tunnel, the only sound we could hear.

"A damn hole," Kyubi grumbled, "for a damn snake."

It didn't take long to reach a fork. One path sloped downward to the left; the other spiraled upward to the right. We chose the one on the left.

"That scent again. Someone's been here," he explained.

The walls were lined with moss. With every step, the air grew heavier. A spider crawled over the back of my hand, and I stared into its many black pearl-like eyes before it scurried off along the wall.

Then, we heard a woman's voice yelling:

"That bastard! I'll tear him apart!"

Her voice echoed through the tunnel. Kyubi and I froze.

"You heard that?"

"I'm not deaf, kid," Kyubi said, his eyes flashing red. "We're not alone down here."

We advanced a few more meters until the tunnel opened into a massive ruined chamber. Cracked stone pillars loomed overhead, and the walls were lined with bookshelves, crammed full of scrolls. To the left stood a large table, also covered in scrolls, and on the floor—rusted medical tools, knives, more scrolls, and what looked like a stone operating table, empty.

The air reeked of blood… and something like it.

At the far end, someone rummaged through a medical cabinet, their back to us. They wore a tattered cloak, hood down, revealing long, messy red hair tied into a rough ponytail.

"Orochimaru…" the figure muttered. "You damn bastard. Couldn't even leave me that." She cursed under her breath and then, without turning around, said, "That's close enough. Don't take another step."

Casually, she slid a scroll into her tunic before turning to face us.

I felt my eyes widen in surprise when I recognized her face—Tayuya, glaring at me with disdain.

"Well, I thought I was hallucinating, but here you are—the dog and his mutt."

Her voice was rough, slightly raspy, like she hadn't spoken in days. An ugly scar ran along her left cheekbone, poorly healed.

Beside me, Kyubi let out a disbelieving laugh.

"Lucky day, kid. Looks like fortune's smiling on you."

"You… in the valley…"

"Don't come near me!" Tayuya shouted when I stepped forward. I noticed the hand holding her kunai was trembling. Fear? Or something else? "You damn monster, I want nothing to do with you."

"How the hell are you still alive?"

"After you blew the valley to hell?" she growled. "Yeah, I've been wondering the same damn thing. You… you have no idea what it was like. What you did there, that technique, whatever it was… there was nothing left. Nothing! If I hadn't been ordered to go after that Aburame, if I hadn't been far enough away, I…"

Tayuya seemed to be talking more to herself than to us. She looked down at the floor, then shook her head, her fierce expression returning like a mask.

Still, a spark of hope lit up in my chest.

"Shino's alive too?"

Tayuya glanced around, searching for an exit—but there was none.

"Your friend's dead," she said. "Dead like the rest. Your comrades, mine… all of them. Because of you. Because of that damn Fox."

And with just a few words, hope turned to pain. That pain, into guilt. Guilt, into frustration. And finally—into rage.

One by one, the emotions washed over me like the tide. I could feel my chakra starting to leak out, and I didn't try to stop it.

"You blame me? I was protecting my own! You… everything you people did… attacking the village, killing all those people, killing the old man Sarutobi… taking Sasuke and Hinata…"

As my chakra surged, the stone beneath my feet began to crack. Tayuya backed away until her back hit the cabinet. Her breathing was heavy and erratic, but the hand holding her kunai still held firm.

"Everything that's happened—everything that's happened to me," I said, stepping toward her and gripping the edge of her kunai with my hand, "is all your fault. Orochimaru's. Kabuto's. Your village's. The Sound. The Sound! If it hadn't been for you… I—"

Suddenly, I stopped. I'd gotten so close to Tayuya I could feel her breath on my face. It smelled like blood. Seeing her up close, I became aware of the state she was in. Her skin was covered in sweat, her lips were dry. She was struggling just to breathe—and even more to stay on her feet.

Then I looked into her eyes. I saw my reflection in her dilated, black pupils. Me, as I was now. I saw my red eyes. The marks on my cheeks, three on each side, torn open like scars. The chakra pouring out of me, uncontrolled, like an aura…

The one staring back at her didn't look much like Naruto Uzumaki anymore; he looked more like the Nine-Tailed Fox.

I stepped back, suddenly feeling a heavy weight in my chest. I released her kunai and looked to Kyubi. He was sitting cross-legged on the stone table, watching us with keen interest. I turned back to Tayuya. She slid along the cabinet, putting as much distance between us as she could.

"You… don't you dare follow me," she said, before bolting toward the entrance.

She never made it.

A projectile whistled through the air—small, deadly, almost imperceptible. I caught it between my fingers at the last moment, just before it would've pierced Tayuya's temple.

I had appeared beside her in an instant. She jumped back in shock, ready to fight, but then she saw the needle I held, and her expression shifted—from fear to amazement, and finally to a practiced warrior's glare that masked whatever she was truly feeling.

"They're here," she muttered, glancing toward the tunnel entrance, from which a masked figure had just emerged. "Hey, dumbass. Want to know where your friends are?"

She looked sideways at me.

"Well? Do you want to or not?" she pressed. "Because if you do, you'd better get me out of here in one piece."

She held my gaze. I held hers.

Another whistle. A second needle flew—this time at me. But I was ready. I unsheathed my sword and, in a single motion, deflected the needle with the blade. Cling. The metallic sound rang in my ears just as more masked figures emerged from the tunnel. One, two… I counted seventeen Kurodan, and leading them was a female figure with two swords crossed on her back.

Her mask was different; two horizontal purple lines extended from one of the eyeholes.

Just one look told you—she wasn't like the others.

I heard Kyubi click his tongue.

"And here comes the cleanup crew," he said, resting his cheek on his palm, elbow on his knee. "How about a little game, kid? Beat them without my help, and I'll teach you something interesting. Show me how much you've grown."

The Kurodan raised their guard in unison. There was all kinds: some big and burly, others small like me. I was surrounded by faceless ninja—again. And to top it all off, I had to fight them with a kunoichi who might stab me in the back any second…

I threw a quick glance at Tayuya.

"If you try anything—" I began, but she cut me off.

"Save it. I don't give a damn about you. I just want to get out of here."

The woman with the twin swords drew them slowly. I heard the hiss of metal leaving its sheath. The blades were black steel, and I was about to find out just how sharp they were.

In one moment, silence dropped on us like a stone.

The next—it was on.

Chapter Text

The woman lunged at me, and I at her. We met halfway, our speed almost identical, and when we struck, we did so at the same time. The clash of our blades sent a sharp, metallic ring echoing through the place—like a gong, the signal everyone had been waiting for.

In perfect unison, the Kurodan hurled themselves into battle. Their weapons were ready, their hearts silent, their mission within reach of their black-gloved hands. Behind me, Tayuya, flute poised before her half-open lips, drew a sudden breath and began to play.

The notes of her melody wove themselves into the screech of steel against steel. They slipped between the shouts and the pounding of footsteps, drowning out everything except the ragged breathing of the swordswoman in front of me, and the growl that came from behind her mask when my blade—clumsy but powerful—began to drive hers back.

"Keep pressing—cut her down!" Kyubi snarled from somewhere deep inside.

His voice dripped with a sick hunger, as if he were savoring the moment even more than I was.

He didn't need to tell me twice. If her arms trembled from the strain, mine trembled from the anticipation of what I was about to do. Using the weight of my body, I pushed forward, sparks flying from our blades as I knocked her back just enough to swing a slash that hissed through the air—only to miss entirely.

My opponent was gone.
There was a sudden void where the pressure of her blades had been, a rush of cold air against my face… and then nothing.

Shunshin no Jutsu. That's the name of the skill we ninja use to move faster than the eye can see. It can close the gap in an instant, vanish from sight… but at its heart, it's made for killing.

I heard a whisper behind me. By the time I turned, the Kurodan had already struck. The tip of her sword shot toward my neck, aiming to slice it clean from my shoulders…

I tensed for the strike—but it never came.

Because the sword had stopped. She wasn't the only one—everyone had.

The music had reached its peak.

A crushing pressure exploded in my ears. I felt as if I'd been plunged into boiling water. My vision dissolved into blotches of red and black, and the ground vanished beneath my feet.

Note by note, the melody wormed into our eardrums, besieging our minds and filling them with horrific images.

We were in a place where silence and stone amplified every sound. This was the perfect place for Tayuya's genjutsu to sink its claws in.

We all fell into it. Myself included. The room vanished from my sight, replaced by a vast plain strewn with bones. Pools of blood shifted as if they were breathing; the corpses, eyeless though they were, turned their skulls to follow us. The sky, the air, everything around us was the color of blood.

A voice came from everywhere and nowhere at once. Deep and feminine, like that of a priestess:

"Mateki: Mugen Onsa."

In that crimson vastness, all of us—victims of her spell, enemies though we were—looked at one another with a terrible understanding: that we were sharing the same fate… while our flesh peeled away from our bones and spilled over the skeletons we would soon join.

And then, I saw her.

Tayuya walked among the Kurodan. One hand held the flute to her lips; the other gripped a kunai. As she passed an enemy, she slit their throat with a quick, precise slash. The blood flowed in silence, evaporating in the crimson air before it could touch the ground, and the body collapsed without a sound. One slash for each of them, and not a glance for any.

As she drew closer, I couldn't help wondering if I was next. I clenched my teeth, struggling to break free, but strength meant nothing here—I didn't know the first damn thing about genjutsu. I searched for Kyubi with my eyes. The shadow clone was sitting atop a heap of skulls, in the exact same position as before. Though he was melting, just like the rest of us, he only seemed mildly annoyed.

"I told you I wouldn't help," he said, his words projecting straight into my head. "But I promise you, if she kills you, I'll eat her afterwards."

From the way he said it, I knew he meant every word.

"Sometimes you can be such a… complete asshole."

A smile spread across the shadow clone's face.

"Well, look at that," he said dryly. "We've got something in common."

"Hey, loser."

I felt the point of her kunai against my sternum. Tayuya and I locked eyes. Behind her, I saw the bodies of five masked figures; the rest stood trembling in place, trapped in the technique. One of them screamed—a terrible, drawn-out howl born of agony and panic.

Some genjutsu show you hell. This one made you live in it.

I searched Tayuya's gaze. It was as sharp as her tongue.

"I should drive this through your heart right now," she said quietly, "for what you did to the others. Jirobo, Kidomaru… the twins. You killed every one of them."

A tremor passed over her lips. The kunai pressed harder into my chest.

Yeah. And if I hadn't, I'd be the one in the ground, I said.

The tip of the kunai quivered against my chest. I felt steady pressure, and the heat of her hand creeping up toward my throat. The blade bit in. A warm line of blood traced its way down to my navel.

"Go on, do it. But make no mistake—you get one shot, Tayuya. Miss it, and you know exactly what happens next."

I let my chakra flow out of me, readying myself. Her long red hair began to lift, as if a lightning bolt were about to strike…

"You... owe me one, you get that?" she said, referring to the Kurodan standing behind me. Unlike her comrades, this one remained calm. I heard the faint jingle of her swords and the steadying of her breathing. "So next time you lose it, remember who saved your ass when she didn't have to."

She pulled the kunai away with a sharp motion, and air rushed back into my lungs as if I'd been holding my breath since this started.

Again, I heard a jingle behind me. The woman's sword trembled.

Tayuya placed her hand on my chest, right over the scar, and for a fleeting moment I saw Sakura in her place. Was it the lingering influence of the genjutsu, or something else, that made me see her? I didn't have time to ask myself that, let alone answer it, because when Tayuya's fingers pressed into my skin, the illusion shattered—and with it, the genjutsu's hold on me.

I felt heavy breathing at my back. Tayuya's gaze shifted toward the woman.

"Her first," she said as the real world faded back in around me. "She's wearing a captain's mask. She's dangerous."

Abruptly, Tayuya shoved me aside and stepped past the woman's extended sword, careful not to touch it.

"You'd have been quite the problem, wouldn't you?"

A smile twisted her lips, and then, without warning, she slashed for the woman's throat.

All she cut was the mask.

The Kurodan had broken free of the genjutsu just in time. When part of the mask clattered to the ground, I saw her face from the lips down; her lower lip was bleeding heavily. I guessed she'd bitten it to wake herself up.

She counterattacked immediately. Wielding her other sword, she unleashed a vicious slash aimed at Tayuya's neck. A sharp crack rang out in the chamber. Blood splattered the floor.

Mine.

But the only thing I could think to do was shove my hand between the blade and Tayuya's throat. The edge bit in hot, tearing flesh and bone. The pain wrenched a growl from me, but I didn't let go until I'd stopped the strike cold.

It worked.

And that fact made me grin like an idiot at both women.

"Debt paid," I said, gripping the blade in an attempt to snap it. The black steel only cracked. "Now, when I take out the rest of these guys, remember to thank me."

I let go of the sword and, before she could react, drove a kick into her stomach. She slammed into a bookshelf, which collapsed on top of her. Among the fallen books, an oil lamp shattered and set a cloth ablaze. Flames began to spread across the floor.

Here and there, the Kurodan were starting to break free of the genjutsu. Tayuya muttered something sharp and pressed her mouth to the flute, but I stopped her.

"No way," I said, pushing the instrument aside. "I'm not going through that again."

I had no desire to feel myself melting a second time.

"Let go of it," she warned, fury vibrating in her voice. I let the flute go.

"I'm no good with genjutsu," I explained.

"That's not my damn problem."

I glared at her.

"Leave them to me. I can handle all of them."

Disdain twisted her expression. She stepped away from me, turning her back; her long hair swayed in the air for a moment as she did.

"You don't give me orders, fox-boy."

At the far end, the captain emerged from the debris. The orange glow of the fire cast hard shadows across her mask. After wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she pointed one of her swords at us.

"What are you waiting for?" she roared. "Kill her before she plays again! The jinchuriki is mine!"

Her voice sounded strangely familiar.

I heard Kyubi's low, rumbling laugh against my chest, like the murmur of a deep stream.

"What's so funny?" I asked. He only smiled, keeping it to himself.

I searched for the shadow clone; it had vanished.

I shouldn't have looked away, because when I turned my gaze back, the Kurodan was already there. I blocked the slash aimed at my nose with my sword. She'd seen it coming. Stepping to the side, she cut the back of my hand with her other blade.

The pain made me drop my weapon, which hit the floor with a metallic clang.

A black-painted smile appeared beneath her mask. Now that she'd disarmed me, the woman came at me with everything she had. Her strikes whistled through the air. I dodged, but the tempo quickened, and each pass came closer than the last. I could feel the pressure of the fight and the heat of the fire at my back. She felt it too; her breathing had grown faster, her attacks more vicious.

I saw Tayuya dodge three attackers at once, take the blow from a fourth. The fifth caught her across the face with a punch.

I had to help her—Sasuke.

Slipping under another slash, I caught the captain around the waist and charged toward Tayuya's group like a battering ram. We crashed into a shelf full of jars and medical tools. Liquids spilled onto the floor, their acrid stench burning my nose. We grappled again. Up close, I owned her—one, two, three punches. Blood welled from her black-painted lips… and she smiled.

"You'll have to do better than that to kill me," she said.

I drew my right hand back and opened it.

"All right."

I focused chakra into my palm until a Rasengan formed, then drove it into her chest. She screamed in pain. I held the technique for two, three, four seconds. When I released it, her back slid down the shelf until she was sitting on the floor, a smoking hole in her clothing.

I turned away. The others were swarming Tayuya—every time she tried to raise her flute, they lunged to shut her down.

As I ran toward her, I saw how exhausted she was. Tayuya was running on fumes. She was panting as if she were about to collapse—and she probably was.

She came close to it once. A big man grabbed her from behind, lifting her in a bear hug that made her cry out in pain. The others didn't waste the chance. They swarmed her like hyenas, weapons in hand. Of the original seventeen, only eight remained—more than enough to finish her off.

In desperation, she blew into the flute. A shrill, piercing note infused with chakra stabbed into all our ears, shredding our eardrums. Blood ran from my ears. Deaf for a moment—my regeneration fixed it fast, but the ringing stuck around.

Tayuya broke free of the brute's grip by stabbing him in the neck with the flute, then dropped to the ground. She leapt onto a smaller masked figure and took them out the same way. By then, the others had recovered from the stun and piled onto her.

But I was already there.

I gathered chakra into my right fist, leapt into the air, and came down on one of them with a punch that embedded him in the floor and sent cracks spiderwebbing outwards. The chamber shook. Without wasting a second, I went for the rest. They didn't stand a chance. One I dropped with a punch, another I seized by the neck and squeezed until he went limp.

A third threw a smoke bomb, and suddenly everything was black. I coughed as a hail of senbon rained down on me. I shielded myself with my arms, taking the pain with a roar of fury, and released my chakra in a burst around me. The smoke cleared. The needles pushed themselves out of my wounds, which began to close. A thin Kurodan lunged for me—one burst of chakra sent him flying into a stone table, shattering it to pieces.

"I'm done playing," I said, the Fox's power burning under my skin. "Now I tear you apart."

The remaining Kurodan raised their weapons. For the first time, I saw the shadow of doubt in that faceless group of ninja.

"They fear you," Kyubi purred.

I looked at them one by one, but those blank masks gave me nothing. I searched for something—maybe some kind of connection that would stop me from doing what I knew I'd do anyway.

I drew in the underground air. It smelled of blood, of smoke, and of fire.

A scent that was becoming familiar. The scent of war.

"Good," I replied. "Let them."

A tongue of fire climbed a shelf, which collapsed as I fought the last of the survivors. The shouts, the blows, the crackle of flames filled everything for a few long moments…

Not long after, when I'd finished them all, I stopped to catch my breath among the flames, which were spreading faster and faster. Every wound on my body had closed, and despite the battle, I was still eager to keep going. The feeling was so strong it took me a while to get it under control.

When I finally did, I looked around—and realized it.

I was alone.

The twin-sword Kurodan had vanished, leaving all her comrades—dead or unconscious—behind.

And she wasn't the only one who'd gone.

Tayuya had too.

The fire kept spreading, licking at the walls and devouring the air. Amid the smoke and chaos, I heard a hiss coming from the opening I'd entered the room through. I ran toward it, but as I neared, I was met by a curtain of black smoke and an already-primed explosive tag on the ground.

The blast threw me against the wall. When the dust settled, the corridor was blocked by a wall of rubble.

"Damn it…" I growled, pushing myself to my feet.

"Get out of here. This place is coming down," said Kyubi.

"Tayuya, I don't know where—"

"Forget that brat. We've got bigger prey to hunt."

Sore and aching, I searched for another way out. I found a side passage on the opposite side of the main entrance; it seemed to lead deeper into the mountain. It was just as narrow as the first.

Before entering, I stopped and retraced my steps.

"What the hell are you doing?" Kyubi asked.

I spotted my sword among the bodies, grabbed it, and slid it into my belt. Couldn't just leave it—don't even know why.

"Seriously?" he muttered. "You don't even know how to use it."

"Then I'll learn."

I gave the flames one last glance. After cursing Tayuya under my breath, I stepped into the tunnel. It was wider than the other, so I could walk with some comfort. The air was stale—hard to breathe.

I went on. The passage narrowed suddenly, forcing me to press against the stone to keep moving. A few meters later, it widened again, and I stepped into an even larger chamber than the first.

I stopped dead at the sight.

It was an entire room lined with wooden slabs, each one fitted with stiff leather straps and stained with the remnants of what had once been flesh. On the tables nearby sat jars of viscous liquid and organs floating inside them. What looked like a hand preserved in formaldehyde twitched slightly, as if it knew I was there.

"Disgusting," I muttered. Inside me, Kyubi gave a low growl.

Four different tunnels branched off from the chamber. I chose one at random, sloping downward into the mountain's depths. It opened into a circular space surrounded by unlit torches. The floor was marked with chalk circles, and dark stains covered everything. Blood. I crouched, and when I touched one, a human tooth came loose. There were more, wedged between the stones. The bandits' words came back to me.

"It's… a ring," I thought.
"This is where those worms bleed for their masks," Kyubi growled.

I moved toward a stone bench against the wall. On top of it rested a black-painted mask, intact. I picked it up, turning it over in my hands. Inside, crude marks had been carved—names, or maybe numbers. One had been crossed out.

After a moment's thought, I hooked it onto my belt beside the sword and kept moving through the warren of tunnels. I told myself there had to be another way out. It wasn't belief—it was hope.

I wandered deeper into the maze, losing my sense of direction fast. I found rooms stacked with ninja tools, another lined with black uniforms, masks, and similar gear. Some were stripped bare; others were dormitories—different from the communal hall I'd seen before. Real bedrooms, with soft beds, fine wooden wardrobes, even rugs. One held a neat row of unopened sake bottles.

"This must be where the bosses sleep," I thought. So while the rank-and-file Kurodan slept in a common room and spent their days beating each other bloody, their captains drank sake in private quarters. I shook my head.

I searched those rooms for clues or anything useful, but came up empty.

Further on, the tunnels began to slope upward toward the surface.

Fresh air hit me like a bucket of ice water. After the damp black of the caves, the night outside felt alive again—bugs singing, leaves stirring, the sky wide and breathing overhead.

"So, now what?"

Kyubi appeared beside me in his usual form, sitting on a rock, knees apart, elbows on them. His twenty-something face wore its usual mask of boredom.

I brushed the dirt from my kimono. There was a small bloodstain on my chest; I tried to spit-clean it away, but it wouldn't budge. I clicked my tongue in irritation.

"We're finding Tayuya. That smartass left me hanging."

"Kid, you really think she knows anything? In her place, anyone would've said whatever it took to get out alive."

He had a point. Maybe Tayuya had lied. I didn't care—I was sticking to it.

"I can't think of a better idea. Can you?"

"You already know. We go after the daimyo and hang him from a tree."

"Solid plan."

"Better than chasing some brat who doesn't know anything."

"Maybe. But that's what we're doing," I said. "So lend me your nose for a while. You and I are going hunting."

Kyubi grinned, showing just the tip of a fang.

"I always like it when you say 'hunting.'"

"Don't get too excited," I shot back, heading down the path winding through the undergrowth. "I'm not letting you eat anything… without my say-so."

"We'll see, kid. We'll see."

The wind carried the echo of a distant horn, as if someone, somewhere, was sounding a warning that the night wasn't over yet.

And it wasn't.

Somewhere beyond the trees, something else had heard it too.

Chapter Text

Tayuya couldn't have gotten far—at least not in her condition. The truth was, the girl hadn't looked good when we found her. I figured the fight had left her wrecked. And since I still had plenty of energy, catching up to her would be a piece of cake. I told Kyubi as much while we skirted the western slope of the mountain, following a trail that, according to him, was "fresh as an open wound." The analogy felt like a bad omen. The wind carried smells I didn't like—smoke, overturned soil… and something metallic that made me quicken my pace.

It didn't help that I'd felt watched ever since we left the mountain. We were being followed. I was sure of it.

And they were good. No sound, no shapes slipping out of the shadows. Every so often, a fleeting glint—maybe metal, maybe an eye—flashed between the branches, and my gut screamed not to ignore it. Sometimes a shadow seemed to shift, and I'd hold my breath, waiting for an ambush that never came.

"Shouldn't we deal with them?" I asked Kyubi. We were running side by side, fast enough to blur the trees. He shot me a disdainful look—it was the second time I'd asked him that.

"You want to find that girl or not?"

"I don't like being watched."

"You're in enemy territory. You'll have a thousand eyes on you, and every one of them would love to stick a kunai in your throat. So what?" Kyubi leapt ahead in a powerful bound. I had to push harder to keep pace. I landed beside him, and we kept running together. "Let those mosquitoes buzz around all they want. If they come close enough to bite, squash them. It's that simple."

Coming from him, it made a brutal kind of sense. I figured it was easy to push aside worries when you were some all-powerful monster. But I was mortal. Sure, I was stronger than before, but in the ninja world, there were plenty of ways to kill the strong. I remembered the Valley of the End—how one instant could decide everything, even against an opponent you thought you had under control. How helpless I'd felt when Tayuya trapped me in her genjutsu... If she'd wanted to, she could have killed me like she did the others.

A kunoichi weaker than me had me at her mercy. Maybe strength wasn't everything—unless it was as overwhelming as the Fox's.

With a gesture, Kyubi signaled a change of direction. His nose twitched like he smelled something, and his imaginary ears—if he had any—would've perked up. He used the same hand signs as Konoha's ninja. Out of curiosity, I asked him how he knew them.

"I've been stuck inside your stupid head for years. Not sure why that surprises you."

"Wait. Back when I was in the Academy… did you pay attention in class?"

"While you drooled on the desk, I was wide awake. That scrawny teacher of yours couldn't shut up with his nonsense, but it was still better than listening to your snoring."

"So technically… you graduated," I said mockingly. "Kyubi, genin of Konoha! Who would've thought? I'll have to get you a headband."

He flashed a malicious grin.

"I'm afraid, kid, you won't get the chance."

Kyubi had a gift for pouring salt on wounds. His answer shut me up for a while. I thought about Konoha and what waited for me back in the village. The memory of certain looks prickled at my neck, and for a second, I didn't know if I was remembering—or being watched again. It wasn't easy shaking those thoughts. By the time I did, we'd already put a good distance between us and the mountain.

After passing through a small grove full of birds—we heard them singing the whole way—Kyubi stopped by a stream that ran down the slope, its water sliding over damp rocks.

The conversation had shifted toward my training.

"You said you'd teach me something interesting," I complained. "What I need is to learn how to break a genjutsu. I don't want what happened back there to happen again."

Kyubi scoffed. "I don't know anything about those cheap little tricks. Ask someone who plays ninja for a living."

He crouched beside the stream and dipped his hand in, thoughtful. I stood nearby, nervously scanning the area. My paranoia had returned, and the forest's sounds—the rustling leaves, the birds' wings, the murmuring stream—now felt fake, like someone was trying to imitate them and doing a poor job of it.

A silence between whistles. The kind that comes right before a shuriken slits your throat.

"It'd be easier if they just attacked already," I thought, as the birds suddenly went quiet, like they knew someone, somewhere, was getting ready to pounce. I gripped the hilt of my sword, a gesture that helped steady me.

After drinking from the stream, Kyubi stood and turned to me, a sly smile playing at his lips.

"You won't learn genjutsu from me. You and I don't need it. Our techniques aren't based on cheap illusions, kid, but on something much more real." Red chakra bled from his body, briefly painting the stream crimson. "You already tasted it in the valley. Remember how it felt? All that power… right there, in your hands."

I swallowed hard. Images of the valley surged in my mind. The Kurodan falling like flies. The lake twisting like a whirlpool. The massive trench the Bijuudama carved into the mountain. All that destruction. Smoke, the scent of burnt flesh in the air. Rock, flesh, and bone—reduced to dust...

"Yeah. I remember."

Kyubi smiled.

"Well, lucky you, kid. What you tasted was just an appetizer. When you feel the full extent of my power…"

I met his gaze. It hurt to hold it.

"Your appetizer," I interrupted, "cost me everything I had. My friends. The headband I worked so hard for. Now I've got nothing. Just you. So tell me, Fox—what's the price for the main course? Because I've got nothing left to pay you with."

The Fox gave me an indifferent look.

"I told you already. I can't think of anything else you could give me. The price has already been paid. I'm not interested in anything more."

"And what the hell is that price?" I asked, stepping closer until we were face to face.

Two red gazes locked; twin coals unsure whether to burn or fuse.

The indifference on Kyubi's face slowly turned into tenderness. Of course, in his case, it was only a crude imitation of that feeling—a deliberate grimace on a mask made of flesh and deception.

Slowly, he touched my cheek. His fingers traced upward, slipping into my hair. I tensed.

For a second, as our foreheads pressed together, I wasn't sure which of us was breathing for whom.

Without blinking, he grabbed the back of my head and pulled my forehead against his. In this new form, he was taller than me, so he had to lean down. I felt his warm breath on my skin; his feverish gaze bore into mine like twin daggers. I tried to look away. He didn't let me.

"Naruto…" he whispered, "my little idiot. Think for a moment, will you? When Kabuto drove a blade through your heart and I so kindly offered you my power to defeat him… what did you give me in return? What could a dying child, rejected by everyone, give me? A kid I've been shackled to for thirteen damn years. What could possibly convince me not to let you die and finally be rid of my prison? Come on, Naruto. Use that head. I know you know the answer."

He pulled back slightly to look me in the eyes—waiting for a response. But what was it? I had nothing left to give anyone. Everything I'd had… was already gone.

"What I lost in the valley. Sakura, the others… my life as a ninja. That was it. That's all I had to give you."

A pause. Silence. Long. Too long.

Then Kyubi raised an eyebrow.

"Is that what you think? That I've done all this for the lives of a few random kids? You really haven't understood a thing."

I gathered chakra into my right arm and shoved him back, forcing him to stumble a step or two. He frowned, surprised.

"Don't get that close to me. You give me the creeps. If you don't want to give me an answer, fine—keep your damn secrets. Congrats, you're a very mysterious fox. Now let's get moving. We have to find Tayuya."

I moved past him, ready to leap over the stream, but then he said something that made me stop.

"You. The price is you."

I turned slowly, locking eyes with him again. There it was. Hunger. There was hunger in Kyubi's eyes. A slow, patient kind. The kind that waits.

All this time, he had been using a human form. Mine, at first, then an adult version of me. A convincing disguise.

Eventually, I'd started buying into it myself. Like a wolf wearing my skin… and me, foolishly following it just to avoid being alone.

But Kyubi wasn't human. In that moment, I remembered what I was really facing—a starving beast. One that had been trapped in a cage for far too long, without a taste of real food.

One I had promised my life to.

I stood still, staring into those eyes that had followed me since I was a child. There was something in them that wanted to devour me. But not all at once. Not with rage. With patience. Like someone who knows hunger can wait—if the meal is worth it.

I took a step back. Then another.

Kyubi didn't move.

"If the price is me," I said, almost in a whisper, "then you'll have to come and take it."

Kyubi didn't respond. He didn't try to stop me, either. When I leapt across the stream and looked back, I saw him standing there on the other side, watching me in silence.

Waiting.

I turned around and kept going. Alone.

The water splashed as I crossed. I felt its cold bite on my skin—a reminder of the future ahead.

I found her sitting on a broken log, in a part of the forest that had been recently cleared. I looked around, but the shadow clone was gone; I hadn't seen it since I crossed the stream. Maybe that was for the best. I moved forward. The air still smelled like freshly cut wood, and the ground was littered with splinters.

Nothing in that place felt peaceful or welcoming, yet Tayuya wasn't looking down—she was staring at the stars above, small and countless as drops of rain.

I approached without trying to hide my presence. I wasn't good at it anyway. At first, she didn't seem to notice me, or if she did, she gave no sign of it. A soft, silvery light fell on her face, and her hair—loose and slightly damp—shimmered faintly under the starlight.

Seeing her made me clench my fists, and pushing Kyubi's words out of my mind—the price is you—I walked up to Tayuya. She lowered her gaze to meet mine, slowly. Her expression, calm and strange just a moment ago, twisted into something closer to disgust.

"Oh. It's you," she said, blinking before fixing me with those sharp, black-lined eyes. "Took you long enough. I was about to leave."

Her voice dragged, her gestures sluggish. Her flute rested across her lap, and she was stroking it absently with her fingertips.

Seeing this, my hand went to the hilt of my sword. She noticed.

"Relax, fox-boy. You ain't gonna need it."

"You owe me an explanation."

"Oh, really? Why?"

Tayuya stopped caressing the flute and held it firmly, waiting to see what I'd do. I tried to keep it together before answering.

Didn't go that well.

"Because I saved your damn life. And you left me behind."

A bitter laugh. A defiant glare.

"You saved me? Bullshit. If I hadn't dropped that genjutsu, that captain would've gutted you like a damn pig. So yeah, we're square. Far as I'm concerned, I don't owe you a damn thing, dipshit."

"I trusted you. And you abandoned me."

Something flickered in her gaze. A shadow, a spark.

Tayuya pressed her lips together for a second before replying.

"You know what? Hell yeah, I'd do it again," she spat. "One: we're enemies. Two: I don't give a rat's ass about you. And three: you were losing your damn mind."

"I wasn't losing anything. I was winning. I handled that captain myself while you ran from a bunch of masked weaklings!"

"Your eyes were red, dammit! And all that chakra spilling outta you, just like in the valley… You really thought I was gonna stick around after seeing that? After knowing what I know…?"

"Knowing what?"

She looked at me like I was an idiot.

"That you're the damn Kyubi's jinchuriki? That the strongest damn Bijuu alive got stuffed into that empty skull of yours? That you ain't got a lick of control over it?"

She shot up to her feet and got right in my face.

"You want me to keep going, or what?"

I glared at her, furious and silent.

If you can't keep your shit together," she said, "don't expect the rest of us to sit around with our thumbs up our asses waitin' for you to blow

"You lied to me," I said. Tayuya narrowed her eyes.

"Damn right I did."

She tried to turn away. I grabbed her arm to stop her.

"You lied to me," I repeated. "Sasuke, Hinata… you don't know where they are, do you? You used me to get out of there."

Tayuya yanked, trying to break free. She couldn't.

"Yeah, so what?" she growled. "Let go, dammit."

"Don't move. If you think I'm going to let you walk away—"

"What? You gonna kill me?" she shot back. "Like you did with Jirobo and the rest?"

"Maybe. Maybe that's the right thing to do."

She stopped struggling. Her free hand held her flute. But I didn't see it as a threat—not really. I was faster than her, and without that flute, she was no match for me.

Tayuya read my thoughts.

"I'm not going to fight you. I'm not stupid."

"Then tell me where Sasuke is," I said, bringing my face closer to hers.

"I told you already—I don't know," she said, wincing as I tightened my grip. "But I can help you find him."

"How?"

"Let me go. You're going to break my arm."

A second passed. Then another. She didn't look away.

I let out the breath I'd been holding, then released her.

"See what I mean?" she said, wincing. I looked at the marks my fingers had left on her skin. I didn't even remember gripping her that hard. "You're a damn bomb without a timer—just waiting to go off."

"If I'm so dangerous, you'd better help me."

"Don't go playin' tough, fox-boy. Don't fit that dumb face of yours."

A smirk tugged at her lips, but vanished the moment I raised my chakra.

"Answer me, Tayuya."

She was about to say something but held it back. She stepped away from me and sat again on the same log.

"I may not know exactly where he is," she explained, crossing one leg over the other, "but I do know where Orochimaru's hideouts are. Your little friends are bound to be in one of them."

"And how do you know that?"

"Because my mission was to kidnap Sasuke? Seriously, how dense are you?"

Her provocations made it almost impossible to stay calm. Still, I sighed, doing my best not to strangle her, and said:

"Sounds like you're trying to fool me again."

"Maybe. Maybe not. Only way you'll know is to trust me. You got the balls for that?"

Tayuya stared at me intensely. In her eyes, I saw the same mistrust I felt myself. Neither of us liked the other. We were enemies. She had stolen my teammates. I had killed hers. There was no way we could trust each other.

But I had no more leads, and she… had no other hope.

"Let's say you're telling the truth. Why would you help me? You must hate me."

"Oh, believe me: if things were different, you'd be snoring one minute and dead the next."

"If you try anything—"

"Relax. I'm kidding," she said, waving her hand dismissively. "Are all Leaf ninja this sensitive?"

"I'm not a Leaf ninja anymore."

My heart felt heavy as I said it.

"And I'm no longer a Sound kunoichi," she said, looking at me with a serious expression.

She stood up, dusted off her clothes, and tucked the flute somewhere inside them before turning away from me.

"The daimyo wants me just as dead as he wants you," she said. "And those masked freaks of his? He's got a whole damn army, and they'll hound us to the ends of the earth."

"I don't care how many he has. I can take them all."

"Cool it, hero. Ain't gonna be necessary."

"You haven't told me what you're looking for."

Tayuya glanced over her shoulder.

"What everybody wants: to make it out alive."

"That's it?"

"Maybe it sounds small to you. But to me, it's a luxury."

We stared at each other, standing a few meters apart. In the distance, I heard the hiss of leaves again. We both looked around for the source, but there was nothing there.

"They followed you."

"I know."

"And you let them? You were that desperate to find me?"

I folded my arms.

"You say you want to survive. Fine. What does that have to do with me? You looking for a bodyguard?"

"Surprised? Ain't like I got a lotta options," she said, folding her arms too. She paused, looked away, and after a short silence, continued: "Look, there's something I need to find. It's in one of Orochimaru's hideouts."

"What is it?"

"It's not your—" She caught my irritated look and sighed. "Shit. It's a scroll. Orochimaru… put a mark on me. I'm trying to get rid of it."

"The Cursed Seal," I said, shivering at the memory of Sasuke.

"Yeah. As long as I have it, I'll always be in danger. Orochimaru…"

"He's dead. I saw him burn with my own eyes."

A weary laugh escaped her lips.

"If only it were that simple. As long as this mark exists—or someone carries it—we're still in danger."

"You mean he could come back?"

In my head, I saw him rising from the ashes, smiling. My stomach turned.

"I'm telling you, he will return. If he hasn't already. Kabuto… he planned to use Sasuke Uchiha's mark to bring him back. That way, Orochimaru could take over his body. His Sharingan."

Cold. I felt cold.

I pictured Sasuke with yellow eyes and snake fangs, and nearly threw up.

"In the valley… Kabuto died, right?"

"Nothing was left of him."

"Is there anyone else who could…?"

She shook her head.

"I don't know. Orochimaru and Kabuto… they never told us much about their plans. Just the essentials. I know where the hideouts are—we visited them between missions. But beyond that… I can't say. If there are more like us. Or like… Kimimaro."

She looked troubled. I wondered what her connection had been with that Kimimaro when he was alive. Had they been teammates? Friends, maybe?

"If he has more Edo Tensei, we've got a problem. I have no idea how to seal them."

"You don't know fuinjutsu? What kind of Uzumaki are you?"

"An orphaned one," I shot back. "You know my clan?"

"Every ninja does," she said, but her tone had shifted—lighter, almost dismissive. She looked away, hiding something behind a casual shrug. "We've already wasted too much time. Now I need you to do something for me."

"A condition. Why am I not surprised? Go on."

"That captain from before—she survived. I've been following her this far. Beyond here, there's a Kurodan camp. I imagine she went there to get patched up—and to report what happened on the mountain."

"And?"

She gave me that flat, dead-eyed look that said I was an idiot.

"That place back there wasn't just some Kurodan training field—it was one of Orochimaru's labs. He did… real fucked-up shit to them," she said, her voice flat but sharp. "If word gets out I was there—worse, that I fought beside you—they'll put two and two together. And when we hit the next hideouts? We'll be walking into either an army or an empty damn hole."

Oh, shit. She was right. At best, we'd face an army. At worst… nothing at all.

Time was running out. Faster than ever.

"What do you want me to do?" I asked, my throat tightening.

Tayuya stepped closer. She wasn't smug or mocking anymore—just tired.

"I want you to destroy that camp."

"All right."

The words left my mouth without resistance. Even I was surprised to hear myself say it. Somewhat alarmed, I looked inward, searching for something I couldn't find.

"Just like that?" she asked, suddenly doubtful.

"Just tell me where it is."

Tayuya gave me a strange look before pointing east.

"We'll be there in less than an hour. You'll know it when you see it."

I nodded. I didn't say another word. We just started running in the direction she had indicated. In silence, without so much as a glance between us. We weren't allies. Nor were we enemies. Just two strays tied together by need—and the stubborn urge to keep breathing.

Tayuya could betray me at any moment.

But somehow, I knew she wouldn't.

Not yet, at least.

Chapter Text

I saw black tents. Torn. Embers still glowing. A tree on fire.
The smell of charred wood mixed with blood.
And the crows. Hungry.
And the bodies. Too many wounds.
The camp was a slaughterhouse. We had arrived too late.

The Kurodan had set up on a plateau in the forest, rising out of the trees like a massive wave of stone. Tayuya and I circled it cautiously, slipping from shadow to shadow, alert for any sign of the enemy.

But we saw none.

We climbed the far side of the plateau, blades drawn, the gnawing sense that at any moment a swarm of shinobi would ambush us. No one came. The air was so heavy you could pinch it. The whole forest seemed to be holding its breath.

"Something's wrong. I can feel it." Crouched behind a rock, I peered out at the camp.

The path rose to a wooden barricade, marked with two black flags snapping in the wind. Beyond them, I glimpsed what looked like tents. We crept closer. With each step, the chance of an ambush grew heavier. Or so we thought.

Until we crossed the barricade. And saw it.

Not a battle. A massacre. The Kurodan hadn't been defeated—they'd been erased. Every body still wore a mask. Not a single enemy casualty. The defeat was absolute.

"This wasn't done by a normal team," Tayuya muttered, crouched by a fallen Kurodan. "Whoever it was cut through them. Fast."

I nodded. There must have been thirty bodies here. A clash between that many shinobi should've left the camp in ruins.

"A large squad of chunin could've done it," I said. "But—"

Tayuya, kneeling over another corpse, shook her head.

"Come look at this."

The body belonged to a Kurodan captain. A man. Like the woman we'd seen in the laboratory, two purple lines were painted beneath his left eyehole. No wounds. But his neck was twisted in a way so unnatural it made my skin crawl.

It would have taken incredible strength to do that.

"This," Tayuya said, pointing, "wasn't a chunin. This one was a captain. In another village, he'd have been a jonin. And look at him now. Crushed like an insect."

She gave a bitter laugh.

"Years of training, just to die like this. Life's a bitch."

"Who do you think—?" I left the question hanging. My throat was so dry I could barely swallow.

"You already know. Your buddies. Or maybe the Sand." Tayuya stood, shrugging. "Either way, whoever it was just saved us some work. Unless that other captain isn't here. Then we'll have to hit more camps."

Disturbed, I followed her through the tents. We checked every body, but no more captains. Most were kids our age, cut down before they even had time to fight back.
An image burned in my mind: me, causing all that destruction. That was what I had come here to do.

"How could I accept it so easily?"

"Because you knew it had to be done," Kyubi whispered. "And because deep down, you don't care as much as you pretend."

"I'm not a killer."

Laughter. Slow, low, from the throat.

"Oh, Naruto. You're a delight."

I knelt beside one of the bodies. His mask was shattered. An eye stared up at the sky, seeing nothing.

A flock of crows waited in a nearby tree. Soon they would feast.

"I've had enough of this place."

A black cloud drifted overhead, darkening the camp. A gust tore loose a strip of canvas, left it flapping by a single stubborn thread.

Branches creaked. Fire crackled. Wings beat the air.

An owl's hoot cut through the silence.

The owl swept over the camp. At the sight of it, the crows shrieked and scattered, their cries fading toward the stream that wound up into the mountains.

With another hoot, the owl perched atop the burning tree, just beyond the reach of the flames.

Through the smoke, I saw its silhouette. Two yellow eyes, unblinking.

"This doesn't feel right." Tayuya's voice was taut. "Let's get out of here."

"Where to?"

"Far from this place."

We left the camp empty-handed, with nothing but the certainty that something was stalking us. Again. I'd felt it ever since leaving the lab, but now it was worse. It wasn't just footsteps on my trail. It was as if something unseen were breathing down my neck.

I couldn't stop thinking about who might have done this. Because if it had been the Leaf—if my village had come to the Land of Sound—then maybe…

"Maybe they've come to help me," I thought.

"Or maybe they've come for you."

Kyubi always knew where to dig.

We descended the plateau and slipped into the forest. We moved carefully, darting from branch to branch, barely stirring the leaves. After a while we reached the edge of the woods. The stream ran alongside us, and in the distance I saw the silhouettes of three mountains against the starry sky.

A strange ache tugged at me, gone the moment I saw the boy.

He was on the far side of the stream, slumped against a leafless tree. The wood was gray as ash, its branches twisted like broken bones, laden with crows.

They waited, hungry, for the blood to stop flowing.

Through sobs, the boy tried to shoo them with his hand, but the birds were clever. They knew a dying shinobi was no threat.

When he saw us approach, horror crossed his face. He groped beside him, brushed the mask he'd removed, and grabbed his sword.

"Don't… come closer," he growled. "I'm warning you."

The tears stripped the fierceness from his glare. His sword wavered as he pointed it at us, shaking.

Tayuya folded her arms.

"Big words for a gutted pig. Who did this to you?"

The Kurodan wheezed. I stared at the wound. A clean slash. With bleeding like that, it was a miracle he hadn't passed out.

"Does it… matter?" he rasped.

"Oh, it matters to me." Tayuya crouched beside him. The blade trembled near her nose for a moment, then dropped to the dirt as exhaustion won. "See, I've got no interest in ending up like your friends back there."

A caw split the air.

I looked up into the eyes of a crow. Black as onyx, glinting with hunger.

The boy coughed, blood rattling in his throat.

"We… couldn't stop him," he muttered. "The captain… killed like nothing…" Another cough. His head sagged toward his chest.

Tayuya slapped his cheek.

"Hey. Tell me who it was."

Her tone startled me. I hadn't known she could sound that gentle.

The Kurodan raised his eyes. Barely any life left.

"I'll tell you… but don't let them eat me."

One crow flew off, almost offended. A single feather drifted down. I caught it between my fingers.

"I won't," Tayuya promised. "Now tell me who did this. Was it shinobi from another village?"

"Just… one shinobi."

Tayuya and I exchanged a glance.

"Only one did all this?" I asked.

"What did he look like?" she pressed.

No answer. His chin dropped to his chest.

She slapped his face again, forcing his eyes open.

"Don't close them. What did he look like?"

A pause. A blurred stare.

His lips moved, shaping a word only he could hear. Then—

"Strong…" he whispered. "So strong… I'd never seen… anything like it."

Tayuya gripped his shoulders, shaking gently.

"Stay with me. Look at me. Tell me what he looked like."

"The crows…"

"They won't eat you. I promise."

"No… it's him… he's here…"

Why hadn't we noticed sooner? Were we too focused on the boy—or were they truly that silent?

The branches were swarming with crows. Hundreds, maybe thousands. None cawed. None moved.

The silence was thick. I heard my heartbeat.

"Draw your blade," Kyubi warned. I did. The rasp of steel cut the air.

"What the hell is going on?" Tayuya whispered.

"I don't know. Stay close."

An invisible weight crushed down on us. Not wind. Not chakra. As if the forest itself bent toward a single point. My lungs seized. Kyubi snarled within me, and his hatred became mine.

"Uchiha…" The word tore itself out of me.

The crows' eyes flared red in unison.

He appeared. As if he had always been there.

A man, tall in the middle of the camp. The moon glinted on the slashed Leaf symbol of his headband. His cloak of red clouds rippled faintly in the breeze.

Tayuya staggered back. He lifted a finger. She collapsed to the ground, motionless.

The wounded Kurodan sobbed.

Kyubi growled inside me. I bared my teeth with him.

And before me? A three-tomoe Sharingan, slowly turning.

Itachi Uchiha was just as I remembered. Facing him was like staring into absolute darkness. I couldn't tell what he felt. I couldn't tell what he thought.

That wasn't a face. It was a mask.

I dropped my gaze, trying to avoid his Sharingan. Useless. His finger pointed at me, and at that gesture the forest warped into the Valley of the End.

This time, sky and water alike were red as blood.

I clenched my teeth, backing away. Tayuya floated nearby, unconscious.

"This is an illusion. Nothing more. Kyubi?"

Silence.

Itachi appeared behind me. The shock nearly sent me sprawling.

"Where. Is. Sasuke."

Each word stabbed into me.

"I don't know," I said. "And if I did, I wouldn't tell you."

Last time he'd seen his brother, Sasuke had ended up in the hospital. Considering who had put him there, he'd been lucky.

"If you try to hurt him again, I'll kill you."

Itachi didn't react.

"Then he lives."

"Not thanks to you."

The Sharingan spun slowly.

"You've changed, Naruto Uzumaki. I know what you did in the Valley. All those children… your comrades… dead."

Chakra flared out of me, too strong to hold.

"And you butchered your clan, you filthy bastard—and if not for Jiraiya, you'd have killed Sasuke last time too."

Silence. For a heartbeat, I thought he would strike.

Instead, a deep, measured breath.

"You understand nothing, Naruto Uzumaki."

"You know what? Everyone tells me the same damn thing, and I'm sick of it."

A laugh. Not his. Not mine. From the rubble nearby. A woman sat on a stone slab. Her face was beautiful, kind—but twisted with the fox's grin.

I'd never seen her. But Itachi… he knew her. His mask cracked, torn by pain so raw I hadn't thought him capable of it.

"I've missed you," the woman said.

"You… how dare you…"

Pain shaded his voice, barely held back.

She hopped down lightly. I saw Itachi caught between rage and grief, his armor vulnerable at last.

"Is that how you speak to your mother?" she asked.

A memory slammed into me. Not mine.

Mikoto cradles her infant. Another Uchiha whelp. I snarl. Kushina laughs. "Someday you'll stop hating everyone," she says. Lies. She strokes her belly. Soon. Naruto. Such a pathetic name. She insists he'll be like his father. I pray she's wrong.

I jolted back, drenched in sweat. Had that been Kyubi's memory? And that woman—Kushina, through whose eyes I'd seen Mikoto—was she my mother? How?

With a single move, the Fox had stunned us both. It was strange to see Itachi speechless. But there he was, facing Mikoto's copy like he'd seen a ghost.

He stepped forward. His Sharingan burned, but not at me—at her.

"Kyubi."

The woman laughed. A red echo rippled through the air.

"Is this a joke? Or did you forget my name?"

I covered my face. The images still burned behind my eyelids. Mikoto. Kushina. Myself, unborn, only a promise in the womb.

"Stop..." I gasped.

Kyubi smiled with my Mikoto's lips.

"What's wrong, Naruto? Don't like the truth?"

The illusion cracked. The false Mikoto dissolved in red smoke. The Blood Valley gave way to forest again.

Itachi closed his eyes. Not in sorrow—weariness. When he opened them, he locked onto Mikoto's gaze. Her smile vanished the instant the Sharingan caught her.

The shadow clone broke back into its true form—me.

His face twisted in pain, mingled with rabid fury.

"Your tricks work on the boy," Itachi said. "Not on me."

"You Uchiha vermin… I'll kill you, chew your bones, and spit them out with the rest of your cursed clan…!"

"Enough."

He placed his hand on the clone's forehead, dispelling it in a puff of white smoke. Then turned to me.

"Naruto. I pity you. You've surrendered to that beast, and it will devour you from within, until nothing of you remains."

"Don't listen to that filthy Uchiha. He knows nothing of us."

A hand on my shoulder. Itachi's.

"Look at me." I didn't. "I don't need my eyes to bind you. Look."

His pupils spun.

Holding a Sharingan's gaze is like pressing your palm to fire—linger too long, and you'll burn.

"I will save Sasuke," he said. "Stay out of my way."

He turned his back. I gripped my sword hilt, temptation clawing at me, until—

"Don't. Y ou'll die. Don't waste our life."

The footsteps receded. Before leaving, Itachi stopped by the stream. He looked back over his shoulder.

"You never left that valley."

Then he was gone.

The forest empty. Only my ragged breathing remained.