"Hi." = thoughts

"Hi." = talking

"Greetings." = Biju speaking

"Lightning Style: Lightning Bullet." = Jutsu

(-) = finishing to a new situation.

[Welcome to the sequel, folks.]

Bye

The mutative and grotesque ripple of pulseless-energy brushed itself through the body of Shinigami. He stretched his ebony-bedecked staff into the form of an obsidian-decorated sickle, perturbed.

"Izanami…I feel your presence." The death deity hollowly rumbled, his baritone throaty and unimpressed. He gyrated his signature weapon, flittering onto Yomi's fragmented platform. "Where is she?"

Shinigami's back itself convulsed, growing him two, charcoal-painted wings of divine-power. He flapped them, hovering into the empyrean of the perished's personal dimension. "Onryo…"

"My lord?" The raucous and deferential falsetto itself rasped back, the cacophonous ripple of her voice clanging in Shinigami's skull. She twirled her ebony-painted pen, humming. "Is something wrong?"

"I want all phantoms and Yo-Kai returned to their prisons." Shinigami sonorously echoed, flicking his sickle into a rogue spectre's clavicle. He flickered onto Yomi's terrain itself, unbothered. "Oh, and Onryo?"

"What else…?" The god of death's secretary blandly retorted, swiping her pen through the flood of parchments. She reclined herself onto her mahogany office-chair, huffing. "Hm?"

"I want for Sasuke Uchiha to be given all of our files on Izanami…"

"Oh, our local phantom-slayer?"

"Indeed." Shinigami gruffly chortled to himself, an entertained and lackadaisical smirk decorating itself over his ageless features. He flickered forward, writhing into a professional-tuxedo. "Now…"

"Izanami?" The Shinto deity of the perished lazily mumbled, flittering a pulsation of lifeless-energy into a spectre's skull. Shinigami revolved his signature scythe, humoured. "You're fucked…"

"Heh."

(-)

Sasuke backpedalled from the golden echo of Naruto's vociferous and cacophonous baritone's boom. The Uchiha parried the Truth-Seeking-Orbs, cleaving Totsuka-No-Tsurugi through their material.

He flipped over another one of Naruto's multifarious clone's sizzling punch of divine-energy, hefting his foot up as he slammed it onto the Uzumaki's duplicate's cheeky visage. "Bansho Ten'in."

Naruto – shrouded by the golden molecules of Sage-Of-Six-Path-Mode – was shunted over to Sasuke: who clutched onto the Uzumaki's scintillating neck. "Amaterasu…"

Sasuke pulsated the throb clanging inside his Eternal-Mangekyo-Sharingan, swallowing Naruto up in a deluge of inextinguishable, ebony-bedecked flames. "Crap! I'm boiling!"

Naruto immediately clutched onto one of his Truth-Seeking-Orbs, elongating the ebony-orb into a staff. He smacked his weapon into Sasuke's abdomen, hurtling him backwards.

He dissolved the frolicking and obsidian flames of the Amaterasu, evaporating them into particles of golden-energy. Naruto canted his head, flicking his staff into an orb of obsidian-energy. "Okay!"

"Massive-Rasengan!"

The Uzumaki flittered into the empyrean of Aether's personal dimension's training-sector, drilling the gargantuan-orb onto Sasuke: who stretched the symbols of his Curse-Mark, unperturbed.

"Gakidou…" Sasuke monotonously echoed to himself, absorbing in the ripple of Naruto's gigantic sphere of divine-energy. The Uchiha clicked his teeth – feeling his energy-reserves convulse. "Hm…"

"You can drain my energy?!" Naruto bemusedly vociferated, his soprano flummoxed and baffled. He flickered onto the training-purlieu's golden-painted platform, groaning. "Stupid abilities!"

"It's from my Rinnegan." Sasuke lackadaisically riposted, dissolving the pulsation of Naruto's energy dancing inside his silky-fingers. He slipped his hands into his ebony-slacks' pockets, suspiring. "Naruto."

"Huh?" Naruto bewilderedly murmured, scattering the golden particles of Sage-Of-Six-Paths-Mode. He flicked two fingers onto his ebony-orbs, crumbling them into fragments. "Something wrong?"

"Your energy is overwhelming." The Uchiha blandly grouched, revolving the sanguine of his Mangekyo into his signature charcoal. Sasuke rippled into his spectral-form, evaporating. "I'm leaving."

"Sure! See ya later!"

"Hm…"

(-)

Sasuke settled onto the carpet of his apartment complex's living-room. The Uchiha channelled a modicum of his inner-energy into his Rinnegan, dissolving its divine-strum.

He flicked his eye-patch back over a section of his aristocratic and spectral visage, descrying two parchments carrying Shinigami's official-sigil painted across their material. "Files?"

The Uchiha seized up the files of information from his part-time boss, unravelling the scroll's thread. He settled onto the fabric of crimson-painted sofa, unbothered. "He detected Izanami in Yomi…"

Sasuke stepped up from the fire-brick material of his sofa, ambling towards the rack inside his domicile's corridor. He hauled the ebony-fedora onto his head, sighing. "Spectral-Teleportation."

He instantly writhed into the phantasmal body of an apparition, obliterating himself into frolicking and ebony particles. Sasuke stepped into Onryo's office, pulsing back into his physical-form.

"Ah, Sasuke." Onryo throatily mumbled, brushing her inked-brush into the parchments of information. She snapped her fingers, opening up a gulf of spectral-energy. "The section where she was."

Sasuke flickered over; into the timeless and rippling abyss of a portal, rolling onto the platform of Yomi's thirty-second section. He perused the welkin of the deceased's dimension, unentertained.

He blurred onto one of Yomi's eternal paths – similar to the emptiness where he was imprisoned. Sasuke sauntered into another lane, identifying a miasma of pulseless and lifeless power.

"The energy is similar to a Curse-Marks…"

The Uchiha immediately unclicked Totsuka-No-Tsurugi from its runic, sanguine-bedecked scabbard. Sasuke gyrated his divine-weapon, feeling the myriad of the Curse-Mark's soulless presence.

"Oh?" A lazy and monotonous baritone furtively drawled; humoured. Amatsuhikone – progeny of Amaterasu – propelled himself onto Yomi's obsidian-terrain itself, humming. "One of my half-siblings."

"Your features match Itachi's." Amatsuhikone casually murmured to himself, flicking the miasma of pulseless-energy into coal-particles. He blurred in front of Sasuke: who sighed. "Sasuke Uchiha, eh?"

"Indeed, brother." Sasuke lackadaisically smirked back; unimpressed. He backpedalled from a spear and axe of sanguine-flames, lacerating Totsuka-No-Tsurugi across the sizzling warmth. "Killing me?"

"Oh, no." Amatsuhikone languidly grouched, hovering into the purple-painted empyrean of Yomi itself. His crimson irises inspected Izanagi's divine-blade, entertained. "You utilize grand-father's tool…"

"You must be worthy of it, then." The child of Amaterasu surreptitiously chuckled, his soprano shrewd and unbothered. He canted his head, stretching his presence itself forward. "Or are you?"

Sasuke immediately boomed his own, pitiless and spectral presence, channelling his inner-energy into his body itself. Amatsuhikone twirled a crimson-coin – flicking it onto the terrain. "Good. Good."

"Grand-mother Izanami gave you multifarious compliments. You're her little experiment for the Curse-Mark and a success…"

Amatsuhikone flickered on top of the path of the dead's personal realm, slipping his hands into his crimson-trousers' pockets. He stepped towards Sasuke, dissolving his divine-clang of energy.

"Grandma Izanami was never in Yomi." Amatsuhikone lazily dismissed, conducting a ripple of lifeless-energy onto his fingers. He pulsed Izanami's pulseless-power, chuckling. "It was me, mortal."

"No. No…" He monotonously refuted himself, evaporating the strum of his grand-mother's spiritless presence. Amatsuhikone inspected Sasuke's spectral-physiology; humming. "You're a phantom, now."

"You may still carry flesh." Amatsuhikone mockingly grinned, peering towards the palpitating chains binding Shinigami: who chortled. He gyrated another sanguine-coin, sighing. "And you may still live."

"Listen to me, my mother's child, you are an apparition who is waiting to be claimed by death itself."

He instantly blurred forward – in a cloud of crimson-molecules – aiming himself into an opened dimensional-gulf. Amatsuhikone flipped into the portal, scattering his coin into fire-brick fragments.

"A little family reunion, huh?" Shinigami casually intervened, flicking himself out of the sizzling and crimson shackles of Amatsuhikone. He pressed his scythe onto his shoulder, puzzled. "First-time meeting?"

"Indeed."

"He's working for Izanami." The Shinto deity of death disappointedly rumbled, shrinking his signature scythe into an obsidian knife. Shinigami stepped onto another of Yomi's paths, chuckling. "See ya!"

Sasuke dissolved himself into the grey-skinned body of his Curse-Mark: Level-2, stretching his mutative-wings of lifeless-energy. He flittered up into Yomi's ageless empyrean; flying.

The Uchiha drifted through an innumerable amount of Yomi's different types of sections, descrying ghouls, phantoms, guards, and Yo-Kai. He settled onto a cliff, ravelling up his pulseless-wings.

He peered over to the scintillation of Susanoo's divine-form, perusing the entertained and bemused features of his uncle. The deity twirled his signature Grass-Cutter, huffing. "I got orders from Amaterasu."

"You never listen to her." Sasuke monotonously retorted, his baritone unimpressed and unbothered. He inspected the spillikins of immutable creatures in Yomi itself; suspiring. "What, now?"

"Nothing big." Susanoo care-freely shrugged, a lazy, immature grin bedecking itself over his sempiternal visage. He pressed Grass-Cutter into the terrain of the dead's dimension, humming. "Leave."

"Leave?"

"She wants you to return to England." The Shinto deity lazily murmured, stretching his arms and legs. Susanoo raised three of his fingers, swallowing himself in a deluge of particles. "Oh, Sasuke!"

"She wants you to be enrolled in the Shinto boarding school!"

(-)

Sasuke flew through the aerosphere of England itself, flapping his grey-decorated wings of the Curse-Mark's energy. He twirled inside the empyrean, flickering onto his apartment complex's railing.

He blurred into his living-room, evaporating the mutative-form of his pulseless-symbol's markings. Sasuke stepped into his Kitchen, flicking open one of his cabinets. "My mug."

The Uchiha sauntered over to the kettle of his Kitchen, stirring in all of the fluids for his tea. He clicked on a button – while ambling into the sector of his bed-room, slinging his fedora onto a shelf.

Sasuke flickered onto the rolling-chair of his mahogany-desk, seizing a crime and psychology-book from his drawer. He flicked it onto the 125th page, perusing the written-idioms illustrated atop his novel.

He lifted up his silky and physical hand, hurtling Totsuka-No-Tsurugi's runic, sanguine-bedecked scabbard onto a hook in his purlieu. Sasuke scanned his novel's plot-points, sighing. "What an interesting end."

The Uchiha immediately flittered over back to his Kitchen's environs, flooding the inundation of the Kettle's fluid into his mug. Sasuke sipped in a deluge of tea, reposing himself atop his sanguine-sofa.

Sasuke hoisted his tea-cup onto the pallid and pale-decorated cup, hearing the ripple of something being created in the aerosphere. He reclined himself onto his sofa – descrying a sapphire-circle of energy.

"Yo! Mr. Illusion!" The cacophonous and immature baritone of Leo Valdez cheekily vociferated. He lounged on top of one of his cabin's multifarious chairs, huffing. "Been two months, huh?!"

"Indeed." The Uchiha impassively retorted, swallowing in another boiling inundation of his incinerating fluid. Sasuke tipped his mug back onto the mahogany table, unperturbed. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing much!" Leo raucously chortled, an easy-going and unbothered grin bedecking itself atop his calloused features. He tapped his screw-driver's button, groaning. "I lost some bets."

"Bets?" Sasuke lackadaisically grouched to himself, flicking his spoon through the flood of coffee. He hefted up the mug to his frosty lips, discarding his stirring-spoon onto the wooden-desk. "Hm…"

"Yep…" The mechanic casually riposted, careening his wheel-designed chair backwards. Leo canted his head, growing an infinitesimal cube of fire onto his boiling fingers. "Wanna spar later?"

"I would." The Uchiha monotonously asseverated, settling his coffee-mug onto the white-painted plate on top of his table. Sasuke stepped from his sanguine-sofa, flooding the beverage into the sink. "Still…"

"I'm working on something for someone."

"You going on a date?" Leo bemusedly murmured, his splintering falsetto itself baffled and incredulous. The demi-god dissolved his dancing flames, crossing his legs on the wheel-chair. "You?"

"Mr. Bland. Raspy. Ghost-Boy?"

"No." Sasuke humourlessly refuted, clutching onto one of his Kitchen's sponges. He slipped it through the glass of his mug, swiping it onto the cup's rim, unentertained. "I heard of your encounter."

"Encounter?"

"The Romans?" He blandly retaliated, hauling his stirring-spoon and coffee mug back into the shackles of his Kitchen's cupboard. Sasuke stretched his body itself, suspiring. "Were their memories erased?"

"Roman-Who now?" Leo bewilderedly mumbled to himself, slouching into the orange-decorated fabric of his cabin's chair. He brushed his hand through his neck, puzzled. "Nope, who are they?"

"A band of rock-stars." Sasuke lamely grouched, his soprano cryptic and surreptitious. The Uchiha flickered back into the material of his sanguine-sofa, clicking on his television's programme. "Hm…"

"Rock-stars? You wanna be a guitarist or something?" The demi-god perplexedly grinned, straightening up atop his orange-painted chair. Leo twirled his screw-driver, chuckling. "Your secret's safe!"

"Indeed, in the safest of hands." The Uchiha acerbically concurred, hurtling his TV-remote onto his sofa's arm-rests. Sasuke perused the evaporating Iris-Message, scattering its frolicking-particles. "Now..."

Sasuke stepped up from his crimson-bedecked sofa, perambulating towards his apartment complex's balcony. He reclined himself onto the railing, scanning the inhabitants of England's night's dimension.

"I'm in a voyaging mood…"

He immediately channelled the lifeless-energy of his Curse-Mark itself through the flesh of his shoulders themselves. Sasuke grew himself two ebony wings of pulseless-power, drifting into the welkin.

The Uchiha flapped his ageless wings of the perished's energy, flying up into the obsidian-painted empyrean. Sasuke flew into the clouds, perusing the infinitesimal individuals and edifices of England's city.

Sasuke gyrated himself in the over-spilling and rippling aerosphere, stretching his coal-bedecked wings. He blurred over into another flood of clouds, hearing some type of cacophonous echo.

The Uchiha flittered towards the surreptitious and sequestered intersection of the raucous baritone, settling onto the frosty purlieu's terrain. He folded up his wings, inspecting the sector itself.

"It was a primordial's presence." Sasuke blandly groused to himself, swiping his silky and timeless irises across the concrete. He boomed his inner-energy, splintering the intersection's surface. "Hm…"

"You're Nyx's progeny's progeniture's friend…" A mellifluous, grandiloquent falsetto lazily murmured. Gaia's voice echoed in the shackles of Sasuke's head itself, humoured. "Ah, a Shinto spawn."

Sasuke instantly pulsated the power of his Rinnegan, perusing the terrain for the entertained and languid baritone's source. He tapped his smooth fingers at the concrete, absorbing the entity's energy.

"Gakidou."

"Oh? I feel Shiva's presence in you." Gaia bemusedly mumbled to herself, her telepathic and internal nexus growing. She scanned another section of Sasuke's energy, humming. "I feel Amaterasu."

The Uchiha backpedalled from the purlieu of the platform, swiping a sizzling and sapphire Chidori through the tendrils of solidified soil. Sasuke evaporated his electric-blade, unentertained.

He converged his inner-energy into the platform's terrain itself, strumming his phantasmal presence as it rippled into Gaia's spectral body of telepathy. "Leave my head, now."

Sasuke's apparitional-presence lacerated itself through Gaia's sempiternal-skull, flooding her own head as she drifted back into Hypnos' and Morpheus' realm of slumber. "Impossible-…"

"She shall wake herself up later…" Sasuke pitilessly cerebrated to himself, unperturbed. He flapped his ebony-painted wings, whizzing into the obsidian molecules of the empyrean. "Still..."

"Who was she?"

(-)

After-Noon:

Sasuke and Shinigami both settled onto a floating terrain of Yomi's forty-seventh section. The former elongated his coal-bedecked wings, flying into the torture-chambers of the dead's realm.

"Amaterasu ordered me to give you some solitude." Shinigami throatily grouched, his soprano unbothered and guttural. He stepped over to the tortured soul: whose form itself convulsed. "Ouch…"

"I'm not concerned of her approval." Sasuke lackadaisically dismissed, flicking two fingers at the tormented creature's visage. He canted his mark-engulfed head, sighing. "This is the phantom?"

"Yep! Obito Uchiha's phantom." The deity of death itself casually rumbled, shrinking his scythe's proportions into the body of a knife. Shinigami gyrated his divine-weapon, puzzled. "Are you-…"

"No. Izanami modified Shisui into an abomination."

"Oh! She could be altering Shinto demi-gods into spectral-creatures."

"Indeed." Sasuke monotonously concurred, swiping up the eye-patch obscuring the purple ripple-pattern of his Rinnegan. He perused Obito's presence itself, fossicking for Izanami's energy. "None…"

"I heard you were helping out another pantheon." Shinigami blithely interrupted, clicking his divine-knife into its summoned scabbard. The deity tapped Obito's shoulder, crumbling his body itself. "Heh."

"Are you humoured by me?"

"No, I'm more baffled." The god of the deceased lazily shrugged, chuckling. Shinigami sprouted himself his two obsidian wings, reclining his back onto Obito's chair of torture. "You helped them."

"You, Sasuke Uchiha. An individual who worked for all pantheons for blessings. The last time you accepted a task was from Indra, two years ago from where you were 14."

"You slaughtered hundreds." Shinigami languidly echoed, his gruff and insouciant falsetto splintering Yomi's purple-empyrean. He slouched into the seat of torment, entertained. "No, thousands."

"I'm still bewildered by you, Sasuke Uchiha." The deity of death casually rumbled, ignoring the blood-engulfed rain of Yomi. He stepped up from his torture-chair, dissolving. "See you later!"

Sasuke evaporated the pulseless-markings painted on top of his flesh, shrinking his ebony-wings back into his shoulders. He peered over at the frolicking clouds of Yomi, raining blood onto his body.

"Indeed…What was the point of helping them?"

(-)

Sasuke lacerated the divine-material of Ame-No-Nu-Hoko across his rusted targets' steel. He flicked it forward, scattering their steel into an innumerable amount of spillikins.

He clicked his godly-weapon back into its sanguine-bedecked scabbard, flickering over to one of his multifarious shelves. The Uchiha clutched onto a sealing-scroll, pressing its azure-painted rune.

The scroll unravelled itself open – as Sasuke hurtled it towards the steel-fragments of his targets. He sealed the splinters of metal into his scroll, settling it onto the wooden-platform of his shelf.

Sasuke blurred into the corridor of his isolated sanctuary, stepping over to the living-room of his bunker. He reposed himself onto a mahogany-chair – succumbing to the shackles of sleep.

(-)

The wintry and glacial zephyr of the abyssal dimension drifted across the aerosphere of the sequestered realm. Sasuke stepped onto the cliff of his skull's imagination, identifying his grand-mother.

Her antique, obsidian, and entertained irises scanned the pitiless features of the Uchiha. Izanami reclined herself into her charcoal-decorated throne, tapping its ageless arm-rests. "Sasuke."

"Izanami…" Sasuke hollowly echoed back, a humourless and pitiless smirk bedecking itself over his silky visage. He descried his lack of Ame-No-Nu-Hoko's runic scabbard; suspiring. "You're returning."

"Perhaps, child, perhaps." She insouciantly shrugged, sinking into the obsidian-fabric of her throne. Izanami snapped her fingers, summoning herself a cup of white-tea. "You're growing powerful."

"Perhaps." Sasuke cryptically retorted, flicking his hand at the spectral-distortion of a hurricane slapping his head. The Uchiha detected Izanami's energy itself writhe; dance. "Hm…"

"Who shall be helping you? You are chained to not be capable of leaving the Shinto-pantheon's realms."

"Interrogating me?" Izanami furtively chuckled, a mocking and unbothered grin sprouting atop her pale mien. She sipped in a ripple of her white-tea, swiping a finger onto her calloused lips. "Pointless."

"Oh, and someone helping me? Sasuke, my dear spectre, you understand nothing."

"Trust, for me, is nothing more than a myth." She casually laughed, her baritone itself rumbling and unentertained. Izanami dissolved her tea-cup into dancing-molecules, humming. "Ironic? No?"

"In the universe, solitude is the shrewdest selection of companions a creature could cerebrate of."

Sasuke immediately backtracked from the throb of Izanami's pulseless-falsetto. Her voice was splintering itself into his head, pedalling through all of his memories – his life, childhood, and feelings.

"You may be powerful, indeed." Izanami blandly drawled; unimpressed. She brushed her ebony and timeless gaze over the dimension's crimson empyrean, sighing. "You may be experienced."

She strode up from her obsidian-decorated throne, her coal-irises themselves rotating into the crimson of Yomi's hell-fire. Izanami canted her eternal-head, disappointed. "Amaterasu's progeny."

"My dear husband's child's spawn." Izanami monotonously rasped, another echo of her mellifluous-soprano fragmenting Sasuke's skull. She tapped her shoulders' marks, chuckling. "My experimentation."

"You shall be a hollow husk of an individual." She sardonically tittered. Izanami stretched her marking-engulfed arms, her sanguine irises peering into Sasuke's memories. "Not, now. No…"

Sasuke instantly clanged all of his energy into the fire-brick empyrean of the realm. He boomed his amalgamation of spectral, inner, and divine-power, unentertained. "Is that all?"

"Izanami." The Uchiha lackadaisically grouched, his baritone humoured and heartless. He slipped his hands into his ebony-slacks' pockets, stepping onto the throne's platform. "It's true."

"I may not be stronger than you." Sasuke callously concurred, sauntering over to the crumbled fragments of her throne. He pulsated his presence itself, sighing. "Nor experienced."

He flicked up the eye-patch of his Rinnegan, the ripple-painted pattern inside it frolicking. Sasuke tapped two of his fingers onto his purple-decorated socket, dissolving his strum of inner-energy.

"A colleague of mine gave me a discussion regarding his loss of some bets." The Uchiha monotonously reverberated. Sasuke brushed his two, silky fingers onto his Rinnegan, unperturbed. "Izanami."

"Hm?"

"I shall create a bet between us." Sasuke blandly riposted, swiping the eye-patch back over his ring-designed Rinnegan. He perused Izanami's elated and baffled features, suspiring. "Heh."

"Oh? What type of bet, then?" Izanami mockingly murmured, re-growing her throne into another section of her platform. She settled into its fabric, peering at the empyrean's particles. "Come on."

"If you are capable of defeating me yourself." He lazily groused, stepping onto the eternal path of Izanami's configured realm. Sasuke sauntered across the lane, inspecting the sector. "The Rinnegan…"

"Ame-No-Nu-Hoko, Totsuka-No-Tsurugi."

"And my death are yours…"

"You're giving up the gift from the Trimurti?" The goddess of death ruefully chortled, her baritone's echo splintering the welkin itself. She brushed her fingers onto her head, humming. "The Rinnegan?"

"A power giving you the ability of entering an innumerable number of dimensions."

"I seldom use the portal-ability." Sasuke shrewdly dismissed, lacerating his summoned Chidori through the obsidian-hand of energy. He glanced towards Izanami: who shrugged. "Hm…"

"And the divine-weapons." Izanami incredulously mumbled, baffled. She stretched her marking-painted hand forward, a parchment of magical-power floating inside the empyrean. "It's a deal."

Sasuke sauntered towards the section where Izanami grew her throne in, accepting the hand-shake for the contract between his grand-mother and him – feeling his essence itself splinter.

The spillikin of Sasuke's inner-energy and Izanami's divine-essence sealed itself into the contractual parchment. The scroll separated itself into two, settling into both of their hands.

"Oh, and Sasuke?" Izanami casually echoed, disintegrating the contractual scroll into another realm. She clicked her fingers, giving his Curse-Mark an augmentation. "Some advice for you."

She instantly blurred in front of the Uchiha, rippling Shinigami's Curse-Mark into a new design. Izanami perused the welkin's sanguine-painted molecules, chuckling. "Your shackles are fading…"

The configuration of Izanami's dimension itself crumbled into a myriad of frolicking-molecules. Sasuke's dream-body dissolved – as he woke up in the fabric of his chair.

He descried the scroll on top of his physical-hand, identifying the contractual sigil illustrated onto the parchment. The Uchiha stepped up from the seat, sauntering into his bunker's training-environs.

Sasuke flicked the scroll into the shelf of all of his files, parchments, and documents, watching it settle atop the wooden platform. He flickered into the sanctuary's corridor, ambling over to the gates.

The Uchiha dialled in the signature of his presence into the ebony-runes, rippling open the gates. He stepped into the isolated intersection, hearing the cacophonous sounds and voices of the city.

"Now…" Sasuke blandly grouched to himself, his baritone unbothered and monotonous. He meandered into one of the city's paths, sauntering over to his domicile. "Time for some work."

He flickered towards the multifarious edifices' roof-tops, settling onto one of their terrains. Sasuke stepped onto the upper-section of the platform, growing himself his signature, ebony-wings.

"It's still Shinigami's design." Sasuke lackadaisically cerebrated, flittering into the empyrean of England. He flew towards his apartment-complex's railings, unperturbed. "If it was changed…"

"No issue for me." The Uchiha glacially smirked, settling onto the metal of his residence's railings. Sasuke shrunk his Curse-Mark back into his shoulder, evaporating his coal-wings. "Hm…"

"You shall succumb to my trap…"

(-)

Naruto stepped across the corridor of his father's golden-bedecked palace, flickering into the castle's living-room. He settled into the yellow fabric of his sofa, brushing his hand through his head.

"Kurama!" Naruto cheekily vociferated, his childish and immature soprano clanging inside his head. He reclined himself into his ageless-sofa, clicking the remote for a channel. "What's on our list of fun?"

"Shut the hell up!" Kurama gutturally growled back, disgruntled. The Kyuubi stretched his claws onto the seal's surface, inspecting Naruto's configured list of fun-ideas. "Punch Sasuke."

"Nah."

"Punch Aether or, for you, dad."

"Nope!" The Uzumaki lazily dismissed, pedalling the TV-remote through an uncountable amount of programmes. Naruto canted his head, flicking the remote onto the sofa's arm-rests. "What else?"

"Quit the ballet club."

"I'm still an amateur."

"Visit the realm of Tartarus." The Kitsune incredulously rumbled, scattering the list of fun-ideas into sanguine-molecules. Kurama sank into his silky and ageless fur, huffing. "You're a moron."

"And you're a fur-ball!" Naruto casually retorted, stepping from the fabric of his golden-sofa. The Uzumaki snapped his fingers, hurtling his phone into his orange-decorated pouch. "What's new?"

He immediately bounded through the window of the living-room, sauntering onto the path of Aether's realm. Naruto rippled himself into golden-particles, settling inside his personal-domicile.

"Ah! My favourite sanctuary!" Naruto childishly chuckled to himself, flickering into his bed-room's office-chair. He rolled over to his sector's desk, slinging open its drawers. "Where's my second…"

The Uzumaki stepped out of his office-chair, peering at the obfuscated photo of an individual. Naruto clicked his teeth, hefting his sizzling foot at the rim of his door-frame. "Why the hell…"

"Is that picture there?"

"Who's picture?"

Kurama grew himself and Naruto's vision a nexus for watching – until the Uzumaki dissolved his and Kurama's divine-connection. The Kyuubi was propelled back into his realm of hatred, baffled.

"He destroyed the seal…?" Kurama bewilderedly groused to himself, the dimension of detestation itself palpitating. He peered at the crimson of his purlieu – feeling hatred frolic. "Why would he?"

The Kitsune instantly channelled his chakra into the platform of his realm, opening a gulf of observation. He hooked up onto Naruto's hatred – inspecting his host through his portal.

"Dad's got some nerve." Naruto bitterly murmured, scattering the photo into golden-particles. He settled back into his office-chair, smacking his head onto the wood of his desk. "Sorry…"

"It's my fault all of you died…"

The Uzumaki sauntered from his rolling-chair, stepping into another corridor of his apartment-sector. Naruto created himself a golden-orb, dissolving into dancing-particles. "Kurama! Oh, crap!"

Naruto conducted a pulsation of his divine-energy into his fingers, brushing them through the flesh of his abdomen. He re-sealed Kurama inside him – as the Kitsune was hurtled out of his realm.

"Damn. Sorry, buddy!" Naruto cheekily chortled, reposing himself onto the roof-top of Sasuke's residence. He stretched his arms, flickering towards the living-room. "What's up?! Bastard!"

"Dumbass." Sasuke monotonously retaliated, sipping in a deluge of his morning-coffee. He flicked on his fedora, strapping Totsuka-No-Tsurugi onto his belt's hook. "I'm going to work, now."

"Shinigami, huh?" The Uzumaki casually mumbled, dissolving the lifeless and spectral presence frolicking in the aerosphere. He swiped his fingers onto his visage, humming. "Could I come?"

"If you're given permission." The Uchiha lackadaisically nodded, clipping himself onto a telepathic-nexus. Sasuke clanged his presence, fossicking for his boss' energy. "You heard him."

"Sure! I'm swamped for assistants!"

"Come on, dumbass." Sasuke blandly echoed, pressing his spectral-hand onto Naruto's shoulder. He evaporated the both of them, flinging the Uzumaki onto Yomi's surface. "Heh."

"Ah! Sasuke and Naruto!" Shinigami vociferously chuckled, swiping his pen into a flood of filed-parchments. He tapped it onto a button, opening the two of them a dimensional-gulf. "Sasuke, same task."

"What task?" Naruto bemusedly intervened, a flummoxed and elated grin painting itself over his features. He shrugged, flipping into the dead's realm's abyssal-portal. "Oh! Who cares?!"

Sasuke immediately flickered into Yomi's obsidian-bedecked gulf, growing himself two wings of ebony-energy. Naruto scintillated into his divine-form of Sage-Of-Six-Paths-Mode, enthused.

"Can I use this?"

"They're all dead, it's fine."

The two of them hovered towards the floating platform of Yomi's twenty-second section. Sasuke blurred onto the terrain, stepping into another torture-chamber of spirits. "Naruto."

"The task is to check for Izanami's presences in phantoms, souls, or creatures inside Yomi."

"Oh, okay!" Naruto insouciantly retorted, swiping his golden-molecules of energy back into his system. He slipped his hands into his sapphire-trousers' pockets, humming. "Whose spirit's this?"

"Hikaku Uchiha. Susanoo's progeny." Sasuke monotonously riposted, pulsating his inner-energy into his Rinnegan. He and Naruto stepped towards the gate's guard: who huffed. "I'm the phantom-destroyer."

The guard sauntered over to the buttons and sigils of the torture-chamber's gate, clicking all of them. He reposed himself onto a chair, flicking open the news-paper of Yomi itself. "Enter, if you shall."

"A poet?! Sick!"

Sasuke blurred into the torment-chamber, disregarding all of the vociferations and groans of agony – while Naruto perused the convulsing body of spirits, baffled. "This is wrong, Sasuke!"

"They were all monsters." The Uchiha idly grouched back, ambling into Hikaku Uchiha's torture-chambers. Sasuke inspected the phantom's essence itself, suspiring. "He's not one of Izanami's."

Sasuke immediately channelled a Chidori onto his hand, elongating the lightning-weapon into a Chidori-Spear. He stabbed it across the rim of Hikaku's spectral-head – watching him crumble.

"This feels wrong, Sasuke." Naruto grimly murmured; disappointed. He stretched his five fingers forward, manipulating the energy back into the body of Hikaku: who palpitated. "You two are related."

"Perhaps. My mother and two uncles use Uchiha for their mortal surnames."

Sasuke pulsated in another throb of electrical-energy, writhing his Chidori into another spear. He flicked it through Hikaku's neck, as the latter disintegrated into ebony-particles. "Hikaku killed hundreds."

"Still! At least allow him to suffer for the ones he murdered!"

"Re-create him, then."

"Again…"

"Sure." Naruto care-freely grinned, re-designing a new form for Hikaku: who regenerated his obsidian-molecules into the body of a humanoid-entity, gasping for a suspiration. "You're still dead! Sorry."

"N-No. It's fine." Hikaku bemusedly stammered back, tracing his spectral-fingers across the complexion of his phantasmal-visage. He glanced towards Sasuke: who sighed. "Thousands of years…"

"Being tortured…"

"It's all okay, now!" The Uzumaki casually vociferated, creating himself a golden-watch. He tapped its yellow-illustrated numbers, groaning. "I'm late for grandpa's training! See ya, Sasuke, Hikaku!"

Naruto scattered himself into an inundation of golden-molecules, evaporating. Hikaku inspected his spectral-skin – until descrying Sasuke: who swiped a Chidori through his skull.

"Sorry, Naruto." Sasuke hollowly echoed, disregarding the molecules of Hikaku's phantom-body. He stepped onto the cliff of Yomi's twenty-second section's sector, unperturbed. "No Uchiha is worthy…"

"Worthy of being given another chance for redemption."

(-)

Amatsuhikone meandered through the door-frames of his training-purlieu, sauntering into the official throne-room of Izanami's sequestered palace, manipulating his spiritless-essence.

"The power of the dead." He monotonously murmured to himself, dissolving the clang of pulseless-energy. Amatsuhikone stretched his body, perusing the throne-room's design. "A refreshing feeling."

"Indeed." Izanami callously clanged back, reposing herself into the obsidian-bedecked material of her throne. She clicked her fingers, sprouting Amatsuhikone a contractual-scroll. "Hm…"

"Oh? A parchment for deals." Amatsuhikone blithely grouched, elongating his fingers into flame-engulfed claws. He clicked his teeth, his body being convulsed by the ebony-sigil. "It's blocked."

"Amatsuhikone. I give you an isolated task." She cruelly rasped, her grandiloquent and silky falsetto echoing in his skull. Izanami dissolved the contractual-scroll, humoured. "Sasuke must be beaten."

"I accept the assignment of defeating him." Amatsuhikone blandly retorted, evaporating his claws of crimson-energy. He stepped into the corridor, crumbling into dancing-particles. "Hm."

(-)

While Naruto hurried.

(-)

Sadness.

A/N: Bye.