Chapter XIV
Legends once Told as a Kid
In a sharp pain that hammers my chest, I wake up in a jump and in sweats. Agitated, perplexed, I frantically analyze where I am as my breath barely manages to calm down. I am alone in my designated room at the hospital and warmed by the first rays of day streaming through the window. I look for answers to this strange phenomenon, I reflect and a first hypothesis settles. For a moment, I experienced death. At least, that's the only explanation I can find in this tumult of chaotic emotions that plunge my whole shaken being into panic. It's too real to be a dream, but too unreal to be reality. Also, if it was genjutsu, when was I a victim of it? Naruto? Impossible. The teenager struggles to free himself from a simple technique so much that his knowledge in the matter is lamentable and catastrophic, even absent.
A headache twists my temples to the point where I press my hands on them while waiting for it to stop; to this, a terrible tinnitus is part of it. During this crisis which—fortunately—does not last, memories of the day before appear in my head. I'm one hundred percent sure I went to bed after my visit to Naruto's jail. Then, there was also this intense fatigue and this malaise that pushed me to rest. I was not even able to inform Lady Tsunade of the state of his injuries; I was too exhausted to. At least I quickly mentioned it to Shikamaru so that he could relay the message. Once under the covers, sleep overtook me in record time and that moment is still hazy.
The twinges over, I breathe in and out slowly to calm myself down. Hand to heart, I feel the raging beats that take time to decelerate. I am thinking, I analyze; everything jostles like a crowd in panic during an apocalypse. That dream, whatever it was… I can't help but believe it's something to do with that sudden exhaustion and violent awakening. While unlikely, if I include the possibility that the sapphire-eyed boy used some kind of illusion-art technique on me, what I experienced almost makes sense. What if it was Naruto who had spoken to me, shared a message in his own way? If so, what did he mean by that? This insistence on his own name … it would imply that he doesn't remember who he is at all, even his first name, but wants to know why I call him Naruto? At first glance, it looks like he's convinced that he has no name, that I am the one who baptized him thus. What does that mean? Is his amnesia that severe? I cannot forget what happened next; this strange scene of which I was a prisoner where the teenager seemed to absorb my chakra…
Like a clap of thunder, a fragment of my distant past comes to strike me down. I must have been around five years old when my father was still alive. He told me stories of all kinds while I let sleep take me away; some were about legendary ninja feats or other unlikely tales. At that age, I was unimpressed by these adventures that created wonder in other children, to the point of asking him to stop talking nonsense to me. One such tale involved seemingly humanoid creatures feeding off chakra. Since no one had ever seen them, their existence served to spice up fables to scare young ninjas to become. In the night, these beings wandered in search of prey, haunted dreams, giving way only to nocturnal paralysis and incessant nightmares. This memory is far, too far to remember more than that. I force my brain to recall, to no avail.
This possibility crosses my mind.
What if these stories were true?
What if these creatures exist or did exist?
If so, that in no way explains why Naruto would be; it doesn't make sense. My logic refuses to believe it. And then, is it even possible? It's my own theory, yet I can't convince myself. These are only wacky tales … however, I doubt; this idea bothers me, just like this "dream," but above all.
'What if?'
Thus swallowed up by my own questions, I get up to leave even though Godaime has not allowed me so. I'm still a little weak, sure, but not enough to waste any more time in bed waiting for things to progress slowly. I participate in the investigation in my own way and to do this, the library is a first track.
Not to be held back, I slipped quietly out of the hospital. I expect to get my wrists slapped, but I don't care. If I can find any answers to this mess of a situation, I'm willing to listen to the Fifth Hokage's sermons in silence. Since there is no rush, I walk nonchalantly; not to forget that it attracts much less attention than a rocket through all Konohagakure.
About thirty minutes later, I finally arrive at the building. Unfortunately, I hardly know where to start my research; the place is vast if I take into account the unclassified archives. Having to begin somewhere, I start with the rows on the left. With a conscientious eye, I scrutinize the themes while briefly skimming over each book likely to have what I am looking for. From fiction to biographies to art and medicine manuals, nothing escapes me. In doing so, I do not see the time passing.
My keywords are night, chakra, genjutsu, legends, dreams and creatures, even symbols or tattoos fit into my list; I catch and bring with me every volume containing these themes after a short glance of their back cover. Arms overloaded, I waste no time in choosing a quiet corner to drop off my findings before continuing my rounds. After about thirty books, I sit down at my table and start reading. Luckily, great reader that I am, knowing how to scan the pages quickly, zigzagging like a wild dance, I don't take a lot of time. Of course, I do not dwell on insignificant details.
As I suspected, I find myself flipping through hundreds of irrelevant pages talking about everything and nothing. Some things look like what I'm looking for, but other than frivolous brief mentions, one to two lines, there's nothing. However, I'm not losing my time. I will eventually discover something; I have a good feeling for once. Besides a few breaks to drink or go to the bathroom, I do not leave my post. In the meantime, hunger forgot me yet again.
After a dozen books, I come across those of imaginary tales of all kinds. Luckily, I find the fable my father told me, although it differs greatly from his. This is the story of a young shinobi under the age of ten plagued by nightmares and nocturnal paralysis. Every night a demon visits him and the boy can only helplessly gaze into the shining eyes of the icy breath being. Stripped of speech and ability to move, he watches the creature sink its fangs into his flesh, thus draining him of all his strength. He desperately tries to inform the members of his clan. Unfortunately, no one believes him. The simple and short story gives without explanation how he gets rid of it. Using a pagan and bogus ritual, he curses an enemy to make him the new victim of this entity born from darkness. But one thing caught my attention, the name given to this supernatural being:
Chakra Devourer.
Without further wait, I jump to the next book, especially those on chakra. Some parts talk about techniques of ninjutsu of all kinds. About to move on, I read a few lines again. There is mention of abilities capable of absorbing chakra, just like Sasuke's opponent did during the elimination fight of the chūnin selection exam.
Rumours say that these techniques were invented based on those of legendary creatures known as chakra devourers, although there is no evidence for this.
My heart races and I continue my search. After long minutes, I discover more texts that explain it more:
These humanoid creatures were called "chakra devourers" for their abilities which—as the name suggests—allowed them to devour the chakra of their victims. Many shinobis agreed on this or that these demons seemed to possess a large amount of chakra, but others share an affinity for the elemental art or finesse for genjutsu. Since no one has ever seen them, they mainly used their existence to sow fear and anguish among their enemies.
Unfortunately, apart from what I have just read, everything that I find later resumes or repeats in different ways these sayings which sum it all up. One thing comes back, the fact that their existence was generated by word of mouth or that nobody has ever seen them; besides a crude description of a "demon," nothing allows me to make any comparison with my student. However, if Naruto is really begging for chakra, that he did indeed use an illusion technique on me, not to mention his sudden affinity with fire, it is possible. Nonetheless, this answer brings another: how would he have become one of these ghosts of the past? The experiments they did on him would have led to this?
I feel like I'm gluing the puzzle pieces together. This credibility to my theory pushes me to sincerely believe it.
"I've finally found you," a familiar voice grumbles behind me.
I glance over my shoulder and recognize Shikamaru. His jaded expression only further accentuates his face eternally tired of all that constitutes life. I also take a gaze outside; pink mingles with the blue sky. I deduce that twilight prepares its advance.
"Do you know that Godaime is furious? We've been looking for you for hours."
"I see. Sorry."
The youngster pays attention to what I was doing; curiosity and a touch of surprise can be read on his face. He picks up one of the books to look at it more closely.
"A manual on genjutsu?" he asks me indirectly as he quickly observes the other titles scattered in front of me. "What are you looking for?"
"I maybe figured out what's going on with Naruto."
"Wha—Are you serious?!"
A silence.
I can hardly believe it myself. These are hypotheses, sure, but this is the closest thing to a real answer about my student.
"I can't certify it, but it would be possible," I say, standing up before facing him. "It's time for me to see Godaime so I can share my theories with her."
