Author Notes

I had initially considered writing up a foreword, but I keep reading how author notes by themselves (as a chapter) are not allowed, so I figured I would write this up (that, and I'm terrible at starting such formalities without coming off as either pretentious or just silly). Normally I don't like making super-long author's notes to explain a few things because I'd rather my readers try to figure things out on their own...but as per custom of fanfiction, I will be kind enough to lay out some of the groundwork and ground rules:

Concept: This was inspired both by my interest in Naruto (regardless of its flaws) and my love for Tales of Zestiria/Berseria universe (again, not without its flaws, and I won't bring up the censorship/Alisha controversies; you can just read them online if you look). However, a large part of wanting to write this story was galvanized by the quality of Naruto epics I've seen. Needless to say, I'm not impressed by most of them. I feel they try too hard to make Naruto overpowered, even dreadfully godlike, without showing the fruits of his labor and the positive/negative effects that having such great power has. Sometimes, in crossover fanfiction, he's lobbed with a ton of weaponry and abilities that are...ultimately unnecessary in the grand scheme of things, or they're suddenly pulled out of his ass and only serve to make him this all-powerful, wise-cracking immortal Adonis that makes him seem more like another character entirely than, well, being Naruto himself. Yes, this can be the results of careful character development, but it just makes him come off as very annoying and one-dimensional to the point that he's unrecognizable. If not only that, he comes off as too white, if we are to look at him on a moral spectrum. Too pure; even if one is made to be a paragon of good, such people are prone to making mistakes. They are prone to be human, regardless of their good intentions; people (especially female love interests) shouldn't be just falling over him or jump on board (unless it is within their character, and even then for a good, if simple, reason). Even in stories where Naruto is "dark" and "evil", too black, most of the time it stems from the mob cliche/parental neglect/"what-if Naruto won against Sasuke at the Valley of the End" where nearly everyone is stupidly, off-the-walls evil (and somehow Tsunade gets overruled by her Council or a civilian council that somehow has more power than their own leader), he gains these abilities over an off-screen time skip that makes him a god among men that allows him to become some emperor of the West (which, okay, I can understand because we know very little about it - assuming Temujin's content is in the west, but it still falls under the aforementioned trappings) and bring the shinobi world under his heel. All of it, in my eyes, just comes off as very forced and rushed - as in, there's little to no explanation as to why he's so powerful, so good, and so evil (you need more than just the cliches to justify Naruto's descent into villainy more than Naruto's path to Hokage and, ultimately, proving to everyone he's not the Fox and earning their respect and acknowledgement). I could be right or wrong, but this is how I see a good chunk of Naruto-centric fanfiction play out.

Also: In regards to this story, where malevolence doubles down on being a literal hate plague firstly and the subjection of moral denial and corruption as a secondary, some things - like the peace Naruto and his predecessors so desire - are required to be performed at a cost, even if it should become a necessary evil. One last reason I write this story is so that, should a hypothetical third Zest/Bers game is made (and if the Berseria World Guidance Book and the Berseria EX dungeon in the game are any indications, it is all but confirmed if it's followed through), I can apply whatever information that may come from it to here. Some creative liberties will also be taken to how malevolence operates in this AU (since dark chakra from Naruto Shippuden the Movie: Bonds may as well be malevolence in all but its spoiler-ish nature).

As a post-script: I liked the idea of Naruto making it his goal to achieve peace - through power and understanding by walking the road to Hokage - and a cure for malevolence with the shinobi equivalent of the Devil/fish out of water at his side. One can learn from the other.

Timeline: I will be using Seelentau's timeline on the Naruto wikia as a reference point (so credit goes to them), but as it is an alternate universe some events have either happened sooner/later or did not occur at all. For clarity's sake - and because I don't see anything on there that shows a source that Kaguya being hailed the Rabbit Goddess in 983 BNB (Before Naruto's Birth), I'm setting the date of the God Tree's blooming at around 1000 BNB, and I will be using A.B. (After Birth [of Chakra] or, incorrectly called After Birth [of the Shinobi World] in-universe) as a label. I will say that Asura and Indra's chakra transmigration is NOT a thing in this story, because it's more about Naruto and Velvet's journey than Asura and Indra's feud spanning a little under a millennium and the Uchiha Clan taking center stage like they did in canon (and I have nothing against Sasuke).

Pairings: Concerning Naruto: No, there will be no pairings nor will there be a harem. I'm aware that this is the most anticipated aspect of a fanfic (and if it isn't, it's pretty high up there), but I don't see it working for this story. You won't be seeing Naruto hooking up with Velvet or any of the other girls from either universe when he's older - and for the record, the only Tales characters that are prominent are Velvet herself and Seres.

If anything, the most you'll get is Naru/Ino, Naru/TenTen Sasu/Ino friendship bonding, but that's it. No genderswaps will happen, either, so no fem!Haku/fem!anyone, really. The "Clan Restoration Act" trope won't be present, either. Romance in canon was kind of shoved in there - and very late on arrival - to begin with, in my opinion, so if anyone's expecting the usual Naruto/Hinata (which was developed way too late) and Sasuke/Sakura BS (which has a whole ton of problems on its own), please don't.

Naruto's Progress: Another big thing that readers want to know. I'm not spoiling anything other than he'll learn kenjutsu (or whatever passes for sword-fighting, given Velvet's peculiar blade-gauntlet). While I still establish him as a kinesthetic learner, Naruto takes his education more seriously and is thus a little more well-read than in canon. He's still a kid, and he's going to struggle with getting along with his teammates (in lieu to differing beliefs), gaining recognition from not just Konoha but the entire shinobi world, and of course, trying to find common ground with Velvet Crowe.

Update Frequency: Please bear in mind that real life takes precedence over writing, so more often than not there will be infrequent updates. Also keep in mind that, on top of working a full-time job, there are other stories I will be working on and tending to my hobbies (reading and gaming) that I could use to discover new fandoms and stories to delve into. There isn't a set schedule (and I could never resign myself to work on one story at a time fully), but I do put focus on one story over the other if I feel it's necessary, I need to do more planning, or if the mood strikes me. I put this here so I don't have reviews asking/demanding/begging me to update more when I can just point them to this section every chapter.

TL;DR: I got disenfranchised by the state of Naruto epics (and the ones I see in the Naruto/Berseria archive at the time of this writing) and decided to do my own. It won't be the best. It might even be the worst, but at the end of the day I want to write a story I can enjoy, mainly for myself but also for any readers that are interested in something that doesn't play by the usual cliches and tries to change things around...to the best of my ability, that is, but I can certainly try.


1.
Rebirth of Calamity: Part One

January 19, A.B. 1013

There was a hint of change in the air tonight, cool and sweet as the wind blew through Naruto, tantalizing him of all the untold promises waiting to be fulfilled. The weight of the large scroll thumping against his back made his heart quicken and brought to mind the possibilities of what he could learn, what he could show, and what would inevitably follow.

Even as the trees began to thin and the old shack loomed into view, he could taste the bitterness beneath the sweetness. Normally he wouldn't think to steal from someone, especially one as important and venerated as the Third Hokage. He should be learning as his peers did at the Academy—by the books, by hands-on experience, by practice, and the bitterness strengthened on top of the shame as he remembered the times the old man encouraged him to pay attention to his lessons and study, that there would always be time for fun and play.

Then he recalled the shock of the malformed clone he had made, the knot in his chest and in his throat at seeing the graduates with their families, flashing the leaf emblem engraved on their headbands.

He pushed the memories, and the upsurge of emotions accompanying them, back. He hopped off the branch and emerged from the woods into the clearing, landing in a way that almost caused him to fall with the scroll on top of him. Growling and grumbling, he removed it from the sling and clutched it to his chest; it was as large and thick as he was, as though he had his arms wrapped around a tree trunk. He picked a spot with plenty of moving space and plunked the scroll on the ground.

He looked toward the substation, its corrugated metal walls rusted over from years of dilapidation or lack of care. There was a transformer on the opposite side of where he stood and an array of power lines that plunged up and away into the darkness of the trees. He considered going in there and taking the time to read, bask in the quiet and soak it in, but in his rush to leave his house when night fell he had forgotten to bring his notes and materials.

That was alright. Experimenting would do just as well as writing, if not more.

His hands itched to tear the seal off the paper and unfurl it fully. He put one on top of the scroll to keep it steady and with the other he dug through the shuriken pouch tied at his hip, drew one out, and eased the tip around the wax. His grip was like iron, the muscles standing up on his arm. When the splotch hit the ground and he had pocketed the shuriken, he sat down and spread the scroll open.

His breath hitched. Here it was, all the jutsu and formulae and knowledge dating back as far back as the Warring States Period. Right there at his fingertips as he ran them across the yellowed parchment and traced every curve and slash of a character. Some were in the recent kanji. Others, through gleaning at memories of half-forgotten lessons, appeared to be a mixture of katakana and fragments of hiragana in alternating thin, broad strokes. They were signed and dated by whoever put brush to paper, they who may or may not be the creator of the jutsu, with notes written on the margin in tiny script to fit what little space was left on the divider.

He chewed his bottom lip. One technique, Master Mizuki had said. He just had to pick one technique from the scroll, learn it, and show it to Master Iruka. "That will get him to change his mind," he was told, and Master Mizuki had smiled encouragingly. "Then he'll let you graduate and become a shinobi."

Shinobi. The very thought of that word felt heavy on his tongue.

To be a shinobi was to be a soldier of the Village, a paragon to its people, a blade in the Hokage's hand.

To be a shinobi was to endure. He recalled from his earliest lessons in the Academy that they had the same kanji character.

His mind drifted, away from the scroll, away from the jutsu, into the far-flung past. One that, in hindsight, was not so distant and yet was like a dream, compounded by memories tinted jade around the edges. All those hushed words, all those silent stares that spoke more than the loudest jutsu, all the children that drew away when their parents warned them, scolded them, for getting too close to that brat, that troublemaker, that—

Stop that—

He blinked. Then he blinked some more when he remembered where he was and looked down. The scroll was before him. The script between his fingers was old and, perhaps by some magical enchantment, still not yet faded by the ravages of time.

He pressed his lips together and studied the list. Most of the jutsu were beyond his capabilities, the kind only a jounin or Kage would be able to perform. Some had the potential to inflict great harm upon others and, more often not, inflict harm upon themselves. Sometimes they died, and he could imagine how painful, how silent, their final moments would be. There was even a jutsu that displaced the soul from the body and stuffed into an inanimate object that would be used to empower weapons and machinery. He shuddered and turned away from it.

He unrolled the scroll and had to scoot along the grass the further down he went. Here were diagrams and icons of designs ranging from the simple to the intricate, comprised of mathematical equations he tried to and (quite boldly but foolishly) failed to understand. There, too, were drawings of animals and creatures of abstract form. All of them either required the contracted to be of a specific clan or affiliation regardless of familial ties or had very strict, very time-consuming conditions that had to be done as soon as possible lest the pact be rescinded for someone more compatible and competent.

Naruto huffed and shook his head. These were far too advanced to attempt, and even if he succeeded in doing so there would be so much he'd be gambling on. His lessons, his training, his notes, his dreams….

I've got a long way to go before I meet the end of that road, he thought, and the sensation of that future was like a cold salve pressed to an open wound. Once he had graduated and was put into a genin cell, the stakes would be raised. Any mission—from a simple escort gone wrong to recon to assassination—would add mileage to his record and see him rise up the ranks. Any mission, too, would put an end to him.

Naruto frowned. No. No, that wasn't going to happen. How was he ever going to be Hokage if he died before achieving it? So what if it came to a point where he lost an arm or a leg? So what if his sight, one of a ninja's greatest tools, was deprived from him? Sure, it would be debilitating at first, but he would overcome them. Not 'would', he reminded himself. I'm going to. Come on, Naruto, remember your ninja way: You're not gonna run away and you're not gonna go back on your word. You got this. Believe it!

He cracked his knuckles, relished the way they went off like bug zappers striking every ill thought that came within inches of his focus. He couldn't help but smile; that was more like it. One look, however, made it falter when he saw how little he gleaned from the scroll. "How am I supposed to pick from these if half of them are going to kill me? I don't have all night. I don't even have all weekend!" He tipped his head back and judged the position of the stars and the moon. He sighed, smacked his lips, wrung his hands together. "There's still time. The team selections aren't 'til Monday, anyway." He punched one closed fist into an open hand and nodded. "Right. I'll just keep you out of sight until then. Or…at least until I can find a jutsu I can master. There has to be something in here!"

He looked at the sheet one last time, eyes slowly roaming and drinking in everything of interest, all the techniques that were too dangerous, too high-risk and beyond his capabilities to perform. Knowledge full of power, all the ideological, psychological, and ethical implications it would bring, but also to be used wisely, delicately. Or not at all, he heard the old man's voice say. Sometimes, the best decision is to not do anything at all.

That was what he was going to do: to store away what he could, and should, remember if he were to ever broaden his horizons in his career in the future. Naruto sighed, a moment's reluctance, and then brushed it away. There was work to be done, and he wasn't going to accomplish anything sitting here moping about it.

He readied to push himself onto his feet, and then stopped. Wait, did I read that right? He got down on his knees and opened the scroll until the text was unveiled in full. This section took up most of what had been spread out, written in script that was neat and clear yet bold and sharp but neither hurried nor illegible. He leaned forward and squinted.

The entry read as thus:

To Whom It May Concern:

This is an S-rank summoning jutsu that is forbidden to all but Kage-level ninja and jounin-level ninja (as must be ascertained, tested, qualified). It has been labeled a forbidden jutsu by a vote of majority by the Konoha Council and signed by the First Hokage on June 23, A.B. 957, effective immediately following the Battle at the Valley of the End, on June 21, A.B. 957.

The summon in question is not one of the beast domains but the therion-type hellion known as Velvet Crowe, the Lord of Calamity. She exudes large quantities of malevolence, capable of instantly turning humans and beasts into a variety of hellions determined by contributing psychological and environmental factors where her domain spreads. She has the ability to 'devour' souls – both white and black – upon slaying them with the claw hiding beneath the bandages taking the shape—and place—of her left arm as a primary source of sustenance. Her malevolence, when compounded on top of the general populace, has been recorded to have caused unseasonal and catastrophic disturbances in the weather.

We had first believed she had emerged from the western continent, when the spring was young and flourished, but upon further analysis from Inomaru's Mind Body Transmission Technique it is best to say Velvet is not from this world; she did not know about chakra or jutsu (and made mention the westerners were unaware of the concept, as well) until she started her rampage eastward and devoured anyone that had gotten in her way, presumably absorbing their knowledge. She had also expressed the assumption that ninja with beast summons and Kage of the Hidden Villages were powerful, holy priest-warriors called Exorcists and Shepherds, respectively. His sessions are still ongoing as I write this, but for now these are the only new pieces of information we have been able to glean from her memories and, when Mito has gotten through to her, bouts of conversation.

Beware: Although Kage-level and jounin-level ninja can perform this technique upon express permission, only the jinchuuriki, the vessel, of the Nine-Tailed Fox can coexist with the Lord of Calamity without fear of succumbing to hellionization. It is through that person that her malevolence is devoured by the Fox's chakra and contained inside the vessel so as to prevent it from spilling out from her domain—here in Konohagakure—and into the rest of the shinobi world. In exchange, Velvet will consume any malevolence exuding from the Fox and his container to circumvent hellionization via blood transference through summoning, also effective immediately upon completing the final hand seal.

I ask only that Velvet be summoned from her bonds in the event her abilities are absolutely required and all other options have been exhausted. The jinchuuriki must also be present either at the site of her cell, inside or within the vicinity of Konoha before attempting to do so. She may be called upon, regardless of distance, with the blood offering and hand seal sequence depicted below.

One final note: Cooperation is essential to fully maximizing the potential of the jinchuuriki, the Fox, and the Lord of Calamity. Although consuming malevolence prevents hellionization in the vessel, it can still affect the immediate area and agitate negative energies in individuals. With the aforementioned information above and the recent experiments Mito has taken to test the security of Velvet's domain and sustain her hunger, I do not believe an impartial imbalance will be enough to turn people. She believes that extreme emotions are guaranteed to change and warrant action. As to how quickly it would spread now compared to then at the time of Velvet's emergence, I cannot fathom to guess.

That is why I implore you, the reader, to take precaution where it concerns interacting with Velvet Crowe. I understand it will not be easy, given our history, but it is imperative to negotiate and compromise with her as the situation deems fit until the time comes when both parties can gain the other's trust if we are to understand and discover a way to cleanse the world of malevolence.

Senju Hashirama, First Hokage of Konohagakure

Naruto sat back, feeling the weight of it all come down on him like a rock sinking in water. He had heard of the Lord of Calamity—everyone in the Academy did, from Master Iruka and their teachers during their history lessons, of the battles that almost pushed humanity and the beast domains to extinction. She had the head of a wolf but the body of a woman wrapped in black that clung to her like smoke. With each step she took malevolence followed, and the land withered and the weather troubled and the hearts of men grew dark and hateful. Her left arm was not a human arm but a demon's arm flowing with an inner fire that would make even molten lava dim. A single touch from her hand and a man would be consumed by her curse and hellionize into a foul mockery of the beast summons; they would become no more and know only hunger, anger, bloodlust, and perverse joy in causing pain, and they followed her wherever she went. Sometimes they would not be turned but eaten, completely, so that nothing of the person that had just existed moments prior remained. Most civilians could not tell the difference between a regular human and a human who had hellionized, but the First Hokage and his most loyal ninja did and recognized the catastrophe that would unfold. Together with the four other newly formed nations and the beast domains, they clashed with the Lord of Calamity and her ilk in the fertile land that would come to be known as the Valley of the End. It was there Lord Hashirama put his sword through her heart and vanquished her forever, but her curse still remained, seeped into the lifeblood of the continent, perhaps even beyond the shinobi world where it is said the Far West remain shrouded in fog, and there did her hellions spread her mark and bring more of the innocent, the wayward, and the criminal under their sway and into their fold.

It was for those reasons that the First and Second Hokage revamped the Ninja Training Institution, and by the time it had formally become the Ninja Academy it included classes that offered basic purification lessons on how to purify water and the earth ripe with crop to sustain them on long-term missions. There were even rooms that provided meditation; this was in a building separate from the Academy, and on his way to class Naruto would hear the soft susurrations of the people inside as they performed zazen, seated on cushions with folded limbs and straight, stiff spines, of the priests leading them in prayer that would bring them closer to the teachings of the Sage and the mutual compliance of the beast domains (though they need not be wholly beholden to the more religious aspects). Master Iruka had once said the shinobi were given this knowledge, knowledge they had once kept in the privacy of hearth, home, and shrine in the days well before the Warring States Period, and experimented, hoping to meld it with their jutsu.

In the time since the Lord of Calamity's fall, the Spring of Devastation, the results of their labor resulted in chakra-enforced ofuda that were specially inked with the seals to wipe the malevolence clean. But it was a temporary reprieve, and it would not be long before Velvet's curse reclaimed the purified area once more.

How many years had it been since that battle? Naruto reached back in time, cleared the dust from bygone lessons. Fifty-six. This year would make it fifty-six years after that final battle. After the world changed.

Yet, here he was, sitting with a scroll he had stolen from the Hokage's office filled with jutsu too dangerous to perform and forbidden to be taught. Here he sat, in the middle of the night, reading up on a jutsu that would help him pass the graduation exam, only to find one that would awaken the Lord of Calamity from a slumber that was not death…and could bring about the end of civilization. It brought to mind a particular point Master Iruka made on the day he spoke of the Spring, an afterthought that sounded as though it had been rehearsed from the many times he made mention of it throughout his teaching career: "Yet legend has it that the Lord of Calamity did not die that day; rather, it is said Lord First sealed her away, somewhere in the Elemental Nations, with the hope that her curse would be contained and her malice removed from the world for all eternity."

And yet, here he was, skimming through the entry. Underneath it was a single bullet point, in handwriting more loose and superfluous:

With an offering of blood from the summoner, inscribe the kanji 'sameru' – 'to awake' – onto the ground, and then perform the following hand seal sequence: Boar – Dog – Bird – Monkey – Ram. Symbiosis will become effective immediately upon summoning and hunger has been sated post-awakening. Please refer to Lord Hokage and Lady Mito for more details. – Yamanaka Inomaru

This can't be real, Naruto thought, unable to tear his eyes away from the text. No way this is real. This has to be a fake jutsu. Someone had to have put it here to scare anyone from trying. Maybe this was a genjutsu Lord First had placed on the Scroll when he had finished documenting everything in it at the time, meant to trick the eyes and the chakra system of one who has touched it. But his chakra flow felt fine, unless that too was a genjutsu, and only his eyes remained affected. Thinning his lips, Naruto formed a hand seal. "Release!" he cried, calling on the word of unbinding. He blinked, but the text did not change. He rubbed his hand over the parchment, hoping to see the ink smudge and shimmer and reveal itself to be a less fatal jutsu, maybe even a big sign that claimed the joke was on him, someone must've known he would come and take the scroll for his own selfish purposes, and the thoughts brought an upsurge of frustration to pile on top of the curiosity and the fear.

The ink did not smudge. It was ingrained into the paper as the day it was written.

The hand seals to release the Lord of Calamity—If it's even her, he thought with unconvincing surety, it could still be fake—beckoned him to be learned, to be understood…to undo.

Naruto brushed his hand over the entry, skimmed through it. If it was fake, why include the warnings? Why include her history and abilities? Why mention the likes of Yamanaka Inomaru, whom he was sure his classmate, Ino, had never spoken of whenever the topic of families came up, and Uzumaki Mito, the last known Uzumaki recorded alive well after the massacre at Uzushio, before his time? Why take note of these experiments, all these details of sustenance and symbiosis?

Most of all, if the Lord of Calamity was the historical equivalent of the Devil, who knew only destruction and gluttony, why say there must be understanding between her and the host if there was a fighting chance to restore the world to what it once was?

Ask—

Ask the Hokage—

But Naruto shook his head. Real or fake, he decided, "I can't take that chance." Besides, Master Mizuki said it had to be a jutsu—any jutsu, really, and any jutsu will always be better than calling upon a world-ending hellion back to the land of the living and awake.

"Something else, then," he mumbled, and got back up on his feet to pace around the scroll. He tapped a finger on his chin, played with the end of his belt poking above his hip with the other, while he continued searching. "What to choose…what to choose…." He hummed and he harrumphed, dug the tips of his sandals into the earth and kicked off (but not too hard) so that blades of grass and dirt flew. He made one circuit, a second, a third.

"Ah!" He got down again and brought the paper up to his face. This was the Shadow Clone Jutsu, the first jutsu at the very top of the list. An A-rank jutsu that allowed the user to call up clones, just like the doppelganger spell students were taught in school. However, these shadow clones were not illusions but exact replicas of the original and could not be distinguished by the common ninja. It required a good dose of chakra…ah, but there was an additional jutsu below the summations: the Multi-Shadow Clone Jutsu, and that demanded even more chakra than was considered safe for the body to handle.

"Why didn't I see this sooner?" he asked aloud. Then a sudden thought came to mind, one that made him lower the sheet. If he couldn't perform the Doppleganger Jutsu, then what hope did he have to perfect the Shadow Clone Jutsu or even its supplemental and derivative technique?

He looked at it again, reading it more slowly. His eyes grew to the size of hen's eggs. "Any experience the clone gains for the duration of their existence is passed onto the wielder either upon termination in combat or dispersion. This will also return the chakra that was imparted onto the clone and vice versa…Now that's what I'm talking about! I can pass with this." He smiled ruefully at the guilt that twanged against his rib cage like a drumstick sounding a single beat. "I'll pass, and then I'll forget I ever did this. I'll be one step closer to becoming Hokage."

It brought a sharp taste to his tongue, one akin to cranberries and bile, and it made him want to spit until his mouth became a parched desert. He looked away into the dark of the woods, in the direction of the Hokage's estate, but did not spit; he swallowed, throat clicking loudly, Adam apple's bobbing. You're in this deep already. What have you got to lose?

Naruto sighed, a harsh, huffing exhalation from his cheeks, and ran a hand through his hair. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Velvet Crowe's entry. He knew it was there; even if it spat malevolence and he put his back to it, he would be able to sense it. But darkness did not spew from the Scroll of Seals, the ink did not suddenly gain sentience and jump off the paper to wrest his hands and force them to form their seals, he didn't spontaneously combust nor did Velvet Crowe herself emerge, make the temperature drop to arctic levels and freeze his blood or rip his heart from his chest or devour him whole.

Nothing of the sort occurred, and history was but a memory.

A dream to be remembered.

This time Naruto did turn away from it, and he put all of his attention on the Shadow Clone Jutsu. "Right then. Let's get started. What are the hand seals…?"


Iruka lay stretched out in bed, arms folded behind his head, staring up at the ceiling and the dormant, bladed fan. He had come home that evening to his apartment bathed in a single swath of dying sunlight spilling through the uncovered window, but it was bright enough to cast red curtains in his eyes and keep him alert for just a bit longer. The schoolwork had yet to be finished grading, his plans still organized and finalized, messages to be written and sent via hawk to the Hokage regarding this year's genin cells to discuss over the weekend.

So once he had relaxed, he threw himself into his work. The evening segued into night as a silent, migratory creature, and the fall of the last grade book being shut signaled the end of another day's job well done (for better or worse; some were easier than others). With food and drink settled in his stomach and his materials compiled and set off to the side, Iruka turned off the lights, removed his vest and shoes, and turned to bed, where sleep would take him.

Sleep did not come—not entirely, for he dozed off and on here and there. He had woken up and glanced at the clock—not five minutes earlier, but when one is ignorant of time it is certain to feel like an eternity—and saw it was four in the morning. Groaning, he lifted his numbed arm away to rub his eyes and slide his hand down the rest of his face. Dawn was still a couple hours off and he needed the rest, but both mind and body were on full alert. This was going to be another one of those days where he would have to hit up that old coffee maker again or go out and purchase some teabags during lunch break; that little part of the pantry was beginning to look quite bare.

He sighed, folded his arm to its previous position, and let his thoughts wander. Over the past few weeks he and the other Academy teachers were preparing their students for the graduation ceremony: a rite of passage from greenhorn to soldier, a gateway into adulthood, and, ultimately, a catapult into the ninja world. It would be there they would learn the cold, harsh truths of reality, be faced with their consequences their actions would cause no matter how good or ill they were, see firsthand how far the depths of humanity's cruelty ran. How weak some would be and how easily they would fall into corruption.

They would learn how to deal with those people who could not be talked down or be subdued. They would see with their own eyes how steep in malevolence the land was and how it warped the weak of heart, the innocent and the foolish and the condemned into hellions. They would know how impossible it would be to save them. He could only cling onto the faint thread of hope that their jounin masters, whichever Lord Hokage deemed fit for service, would help them come to terms with that: one hand to keep them on the path and face the darkness ahead and another to stop them from straying away from it and succumbing to the curse.

The thought that his students, all of them equally dear to him as much as they frustrated him to no end and made him wish someone would take them away from him, would lose themselves to their emotions and hellionize seized at his heart with the force of an iron clamp. Just the thought that they would become something so far removed from human reason and civility, a mindless beast akin to a rabid dog, caused his stomach to roll a single, sick wave. Just the thought that someone would accumulate so much malevolence and become more than a hellion, be something that wasn't mindless but smart and terrible…there was a chance he or she would—

No! he said, and the word was a loud, strong echo that blew those visions to dust with the force of winds. No, it can't happen. The world had suffered enough under the Lord of Calamity. If not for her, then perhaps it would be a slightly better place, but mankind would continue the cycle of hatred unabated, never learning, never wavering in their conviction. His students would learn—they will learn, and so, too, would the jounin masters. If it could not be avoided, then they would be prepared. All for that moment, and many more sure to come.

We gave them everything we could give them. It is all we can do. The rest is up to them.

He yawned hugely and blinked owlishly at the moonlight creeping into the bedroom. It was almost as if the moon itself wanted to banish those fears and doubts, and such a passing fancy lifted that weight and made him glad. The day was much too early for somber musings, so he redirected those to that of his students. He had drawn up a second draft of cells they would be put in and suggestions for potential jounin masters to lead them based on the feedback Lord Third had provided him in his reply via messenger hawk. He had sent his own back prior to nightfall with a word that, if Lord Third should have time, he would come in before the weekend turned out to discuss, rearrange, and finalize their selections with the rest of the instructors. This was the year where the majority of the class comprised of clan heirs who would one day capitalize on their training and inherit the power and the legacy that stretched back centuries. Maybe one of them would even grow up to become Hokage.

It made his chest swell with pride, but it deflated just as soon as it had risen. That was Naruto's dream, wasn't it? To be Hokage…no, not just that. He did not outright say it, but to become Hokage meant earning the respect and approval of the Village, to earn their trust and prove to them he was not some brat who liked to pull pranks when the mood struck him; and that in itself was an odd thing, because in the past four years he had gone from being a nuisance causing chaos in the streets and in the upper ninja ranks to…someone who had gotten quieter. Not a whole lot, there were still moments, but they were not as loud as before, and he become more…thoughtful, more serious about what he wanted to do with his life. He had picked up the slack in his lessons, and while he still couldn't quite grasp vocalized explanations on the onset, he had taken pains to write notes. He would read them to himself, pantomime the hand seals required for basic jutsu, and apply them to the day's classes. His grades were not stellar, but since then Iruka had seen a positive change in them; no longer dead last of his peers but nowhere close to being up there with the likes of Uchiha Sasuke and Haruno Sakura. In the end, Naruto had settled right in the middle of the pack—far from the best but far from the worst.

Which made it all the more jarring that he didn't pass: he scored very well in history but was decent in every other subject on the written exam, he was quick on the uptake with the genjutsu portion and just made it on record time in taijutsu and weapons target break tests, and performed the Transformation and Body Switch Jutsu with relative ease (if with somewhat of a delay on the latter). The clone jutsu, on the other hand…maybe he had put too much chakra into it, maybe not enough. Maybe he did have the right amount, but when it was conjured it was a pale, ill thing, glass-eyed, transparent to look at, and scarcely breathing; even the skin that mimicked its owner was like soft mold warmed by the sun. Both he and Naruto were stunned, as were his classmates who had taken notice of his improvements and quietly watched from afar, and it was Mizuki who broke the stupor. It was Mizuki who suggested to give Naruto a pass on the clone, since he had created one (and not the recommended three), malformed as it was.

Iruka had only pursed his lips and tried not to shake his head as he marked down the grade on the clipboard. Then they had called for a recess and let the class know the results by the final bell.

He sighed. It pained him to see Naruto's face go from nervous, barely restrained anticipation to confusion and then to shell-shocked realization when all the graduates had been announced and their forehead protectors given. Only when school had been let out and families were congratulating their children did he see the boy on the swing—his shoulders slumped, his hands tight on the rope, the dejection in his eyes that the shadows of the tree leaves tried to hide but could not quite be fully submerged.

He had wanted to go up to him then and there and tell him he did the best he could, wanted to tell him that even though he wasn't top of the class or his reaction times with jutsu weren't instantaneous he had taken pains to realize his errors and rectify them the best he could. He could use the time he had now to enroll in his class again or in another instructor's when winter break was over and further improve himself. He wanted to say he was still young, there was no rush to graduate because there were students in their late teens who were held back or took their time with their education before they took the exam. Lord Fourth was twenty-three when he was made Hokage; if Naruto was careful on his missions and played his cards right, he too would become Hokage, but only if he felt he was up for the task.

He had said nothing and only watched him get off the swing and scurry away from the crowd and their whispers, their judgmental stares. They were glad the demon did not pass. He remained, but at least he was not one of them now.

Lord Third, whom he had sensed come gliding in like the title he bore and stood as a silent sentinel, asked for him to walk him home. Knowing what was going to be said, Iruka had complied, gathered his materials, and together made their journey.

I know it was not an easy decision. You did what was right for the boy, said the old man, and he paused to lift his mouth from his pipe to blow a smoke ring. He has potential, and with time he will grow, nurture the power he has inside him—what he contains within—and become a fine ninja. It will hurt awhile, but he's not one to let it get to him for long. He will endure. Then he frowned, and Iruka saw as he did the people around them, husbands and wives and sons and daughters and grandparents, giving them a wide, respectful birth, saw the acknowledgements here and there before they attended their own. They were bright and warm as the sun bearing down on their backs, tall and straight and bent as mountains. They were happy, and their happiness reopened the scar in his heart and flooded it with aching longing.

We can only do so much for our young, especially one such as Naruto, he continued, and looked at Iruka. He nodded soberly. I understand how you feel, Iruka. Growing up without a parent's love…try as we might, we cannot replace what has been lost to us. Our love is but a salve can ease, but curing…I do not think it will ever be enough. He will be hated because of the incident. It is why he had pulled pranks in the past, for negative attention is better than no attention at all. But he has changed, Iruka, slowly but surely. You've seen it, I've seen it; it wouldn't surprise me if his classmates are beginning to see that he is not the ticking time bomb the Village has made him out to be. It will be a long process. It will still hurt, years from now, when they truly see him for who he is. Lord Third took a moment to puff on the pipe. I can only hope that our guidance, and those few who care for him, will give him the strength he needs. There are enough shadows in this world already.

Yes, there are, Iruka thought. People still fought even though the Third Shinobi World War had ended nigh fourteen years ago. Nations still sent soldiers out into the field to dispose of rival ninja making the futile attempt to throw the peace of the political climate into upheaval. Even here at home, there was a quiet tension between ninja and civilian, each convinced that the other would bring about malevolence and be the catalyst for Konoha's potential downfall. It was an underlying current, something that almost went unspoken even though public approval toward Lord Third's reign was overall positive, but Iruka had heard the rumblings. Everyone did; the average man believed the ninja to be a disaster waiting to happen that they would be unprepared for, while the ninja believed the average man believed themselves to be immune to the curse and were ignorant of the fact that they were just as susceptible. Both voices were few and far between, but they could not be silenced. Their points were valid.

This world was dark and terrible as it was bright and beautiful, but it seemed as though the Land of Fire was condemned to cast the darkest shadows. He couldn't be sure if it was because he was waxing poetic or being darkly comedic due to its name, but since the founding of the Village he had noticed the number of tumultuous events that rocked the country. Uchiha Itachi's betrayal and the mass exodus of those survivors from Konoha after the failed coup; the Sannin Orochimaru's expulsion for crimes against humanity; Uchiha Madara's defection following the Lord of Calamity's defeat at the Valley of the End. During those times, he heard the streets thrive with gossip, claiming that though she had died the echoes of her curse lived on, wriggling their way into their minds and compelling them to sow discord among the populace. Most disagreed, saying these acts they had brought upon themselves, they were slighted and forsook their Village and nation for their own gain. Regardless of these opinions, all agreed on one thing: they accepted her curse and made it their own, a source of power only the truly depraved tampered with.

By the time Lord Fourth was mantled Hokage, the title of Lord of Calamity was retroactively applied to men such as these: they who had caused chaos for their fellow countrymen and were so steeped in malevolence they had hellionized (and if they had not been exuding malevolence, then they had succumbed to it long ago). Soon it was applied to rogue ninja of both genders, and on days when Iruka had taken the day off or went about his break, he had heard tell the title was used outside the Land of Fire; perhaps, they said, the lands to the Far West used this term as well, for it was there legend states the True Lord made her emergence.

None of those people affected Iruka in any way, other than the usual shock and disgust that accompanied news of their deeds. No, they had done nothing to him. Although he would always acknowledge history for what it was, there was only one person—one thing—he would call Lord of Calamity: the Nine-Tailed Demon Fox.

Yes, it had to be, just as the other nations referred to the other tailed beasts as such, although many believed in the incredulous theory that they were constructs of malevolence in spite of overwhelming evidence pointing to the contrary. Its appearance was abrupt and horrific, the killing intent coming off of its body in waves that would floor the most stalwart shinobi and turn them into a piddling, gibbering mess. The swing of a single tail razed mountains and turned rivers into floods. Its claws tore through buildings like grass to a scythe and from its open mouth filled with teeth the size of glaciers fired poured in twisting gouts that incinerated anything it touched.

He could still remember it clearly, as though it happened today. How it towered above the Village, its tails flailing in the air, its head tossed back in a hateful roar that froze his blood and squeezed what breath remained in his body as he was being hauled away from his parents, who had faded from view and from his life forever. The stars were blotted out by the smoke, the night turned to day by the light of jutsu being flung from the ground forces, the rustic mumble of mundane conversation warped into cries of horror and grief and rage—

"IRUKA!"

He gasped, eyes flying open at the pounding on his door. He glanced at his alarm clock. Ten minutes had passed.

"WAKE UP, IRUKA!"

Mizuki?! Iruka rolled out of bed, stamping his feet to work the circulation back into them. He opened the door and saw his coworker, panting and looking disheveled as he had not seen him in years. "What's wrong?"

"You need to come with me right now," he said. "Lord Third's house has been broken into. He says Naruto has stolen the Scroll of Seals!"

His stomach dropped. "What?!" It was meant to be an exclamation, but it came out as a tight intake of breath. "Naruto took it?"

"I know it sounds hard to believe, but it's true. I was on patrol when I heard all the commotion. The traps on the window weren't reset properly, the scrolls in his cabinets were put back as though in a rush—"

"Naruto wouldn't do such a thing!" Iruka cut in, and, scrambling to find the right words, "What about the security footage? Surely there's something—"

"That's the problem: all of the cameras on the route he's taken have been destroyed, as well as the tapes. There's shrapnel everywhere; the police are checking to see if it's from them or any of the weapons he used to dispose of them."

"Then how can you prove it was him and not a mole?"

"Do you know any moles that wear orange?" Mizuki asked, and from his flak jacket he produced a familiar scrap of cloth. There was a large tear in the middle, as though a kunai had gone through it. "This was found in the same room as the Scroll was stored in. Lord Third thinks Naruto may have been in a hurry to get out and…well." He shrugged, trailing off.

Iruka glanced at the scrap with haunted eyes, then looked up at Mizuki, expecting him to drop the cool, flat plain of his face to change. It didn't, and Iruka shook his head. "But…why? Why would he…?"

"I think we both know the reasons for that," Mizuki said quietly. "Now come on. Lord Third's assembling a search party and he specifically asked for you to join in. You know him better than anyone else. If you can find and stall him, we can nab him and bring him in."

"For what? Do you really believe Naruto would take the Scroll for his own or, or, I don't know, pull up stakes and leave Konoha—"

"He might've let himself wide open, but he knows what he's doing. There are dangerous things in that scroll, Iruka, things he could learn and take from, and if he should do that then—"

"He won't, because I'll kick his ass before he gets to form the first hand seal!" Iruka declared. "After everything he's been through, after everything I've put him through! I won't give him a chance to speak until I'm finished with him!"

"That's if we find him and if Lord Hokage doesn't beat you to it. Now we really ought to be going, Iruka. You can tell me the rest on the way there. We're wasting time!" Then he spun on his heel and vaulted over the railing. Seeing him fall like that so smoothly and so suddenly broke Iruka from his reverie. He ran back inside, threw on his gear, and all but flung himself off the roof.

When he had cleared the lower levels and hit the street, Mizuki was waiting for him, appraising him impatiently. His stance relaxed as Iruka came into view but his features were still hard and grim. He tilted his head over his shoulder, indicating their destination, and led the way.


When they had arrived, a crowd had already formed, mostly men with a scattering of women among them. Even before they had rounded the street corner, Iruka could hear the rumbling of their outrage like a bee hive being shaken to inevitable disaster of buzzing and stinging mayhem.

"Once a troublemaker, always a troublemaker!" a ninja at the front cried. "People like that never change!"

"Yeah! Just because he stopped for a bit doesn't mean it's over!" said another.

"The fact that the Scroll's in his hands means he's up to no good, Lord Hokage!" a woman stated. "If he takes it out of the Village, all of those secrets might be exposed!"

"He's gone too far! He has to be stopped!"

The group loudly approved their agreement. The Hokage raised a hand for silence, to which they did and waited expectantly. "Aye, your concerns are not unfounded," he began. "All of you know more or less of what the Scroll contains and why Lord First had to seal it away. However, time is still on our side: the trail is still warm. Naruto remains in the Village; whether he is hiding or on the run, I do not know. I give you but a single order: find Naruto, retrieve the Scroll, and bring him back here. You are dismissed!"

"SIR YES SIR!" They dispersed to the winds and were dark shapes flitting through the night.

"Let's go, Iruka!" Mizuki called, and broke into a run back in the direction they had come. Yet when he didn't hear the accompanied footsteps, he stopped. "Iruka?"

He was standing before the Hokage, fists at his sides in knuckle-white grips. The old man, with hands folded behind his back and his posture straight, turned to his subordinate and regarded him with that same, cool calm he had given to the search party. "Iruka," he prompted kindly. "I'm glad you came."

Iruka nodded tightly. "Yes sir." He looked past his leader, studying the two-story house. It appeared dark, but off to the side he could just make out the pool of light on the ground around the corner to his right. Brambles stuck out of the bushes like accusatory fingers, and in between them there was the telltale shimmer of crisscrossed wire. They had been snapped, and there was another strip of orange cloth dangling from a stem. The ball in his stomach got heavier. "So it's true then."

The Hokage hummed, also looking over that way.

"What about the shrapnel? Are they from the cameras? Kunai? Shuriken?"

"Both," he said, "but I'm afraid the pieces are too small for the police to collect and process as evidence. It would not be worth showing you; what cameras were touched you wouldn't have known at first glance there were any to begin with."

"But Naruto doesn't have that kind of strength! Does he?"

The Hokage said nothing. He continued to stare at the bramble bushes.

"Iruka, come on!" Mizuki called, and Iruka turned to see him waving.

"Go now, Iruka," said the old man. "Every minute that passes increases the chance of Naruto slipping outside the Village…or worse, misuse the Scroll."

Iruka sighed. "Yes sir. I understand." He made to go, but paused. "Lord Hokage?" The man raised a brow. "What will you do to Naruto when we find him?"

The grandfatherly persona fell away, replaced by a detached, calculating soldier. It gave Iruka the idea that through those eyes he could see the world through a lens clearer and sharper than any Sharingan could but also dimmed that same world around him to a fine point where nothing else existed. The sight caused a chill to run up his spine. "I will think of a fitting punishment for him," he said.

A moment later, once he had put some distance away from the man to relax and push his heart back down his throat, Iruka met Mizuki at a four-way intersection. Between the fingers of one hand were smoke bombs, and all but one he clipped to his belt; the other he stowed away into the folds of his sleeve. "About time!" he groused.

"I'm sorry," he said through a mouth much too dry. "I just…I wanted to make sure."

"And nothing to see, right?" Mizuki harrumphed. "Yeah. He said the exact same things to me when I asked. He let me look, though. Real mess in there. Gotta say one thing: Naruto's got some pretty big balls to pull off what he did."

"Not for long," Iruka muttered. "How do you want to do this? You go one way, I go the other?"

"Yeah…but not here. Most of those guys back there are looking for payback, and none of 'em are going to wait for us to catch up. They're not thinking straight, so they're goin' to search every nook and cranny they can find if it means Naruto's hiding in one of 'em." He stretched out an arm in front of him and rolled it in high, limbering circles, warming the muscles. "I'm not sure who I'd hate to be more: the kid if they catch him…or the police if those guys get a little too in touch with their dark sides..."

"It won't happen," said Iruka. "Everyone's trained in stopping the hellionization process from completing."

"That's right…that is, when we know for sure we can reach them in time. That's why Lord Hokage mixed some of the policy force in with the search party. Because if something happens to one of the guys and they're not there to beat some sense back into them, we're going to have more than just a situation on our hands."

"What about us?"

Mizuki laughed. "You know right from wrong, Iruka! Trust me, with that kind of conviction, you won't hellionize."

"And you?"

"I was getting to that. You and I split up: I'll hit up the east quadrant, you hit up the west. I noticed some of them doing the same thing, so if we should happen on them somewhere in town we'll let them know the one place they haven't tried searching." He gave Iruka a knowing look.

He realized right away. "Of course…the forest!"

"Yep. If we can't get a bead on him in the Village, then the last place to check will be the outskirts. So we catch up to them and let 'em know we're going to block off the forest on both points so we can flank him, but we'll need backup just in case one of us goes a little loopy. The police—and Lord Hokage—can't hold it against us if the curse makes us do something out of turn."

"That doesn't excuse what we do before we're influenced," said Iruka.

Mizuki heaved a world-weary sigh. "Let's save the psychoanalysis for another time and get that kid back in one piece before the others beat us to him. Here," He reached into a pocket and tossed something small and black at Iruka. He caught it, looked at it; it was a wireless radio earpiece. "If you find him, give me a call. Or I will, and one of us will pass it on to the others; the police should be hooked up if they aren't. If anything, one team can try to distract Naruto long enough for the other to arrive and pin him down. Sound like a plan?"

"Better than nothing," Iruka said, and dropped his hands when he deemed the earpiece snug enough to not fall from its place. "Remind me why you're not in the force again?"

Mizuki smirked. "Because I'd rather people-watch behind classroom podiums and water coolers than at a desk doing paperwork and waiting to be called on for a case. I get more bang for my buck that way."

"You can get just as much if you were an officer!"

Mizuki mumbled dissent and shrugged. He waved him off. "Go on. Get." He took off down the road and then made several leaps up a building, where he landed on the roof and disappeared from view.

Iruka took one last look at the intersection and its alleys tucked away in the corners, its homes and the darkness that resided in those halls at this hour (but certainly had to have heard the commotion going on and kept quiet about it). He looked beyond it, wondering why Naruto had decided the conclusion he had come to was, in his mind, the right choice.

He pushed those thoughts away and ran west.