So IDK if it's because I updated so it magically appeared on everyone's feed, or just because the cat's out of the bag, but there are a lot of new follows and I am scared.
Sevoflurane? Check.
His prized book? Check.
Rags and a gas mask? Check.
Ninja wire? Double-check. Alright, Naruto felt decently prepared for this mission. Jashin knows it wasn't gonna be easy, but he was sure that with a touch of his Uzumaki luck on his side, things would work out in his favor.
He hadn't stayed at his apartment for long, only long enough to change into something a little less eye-catching than his new jumpsuit. (As cool as it was, he didn't want to be washing blood stains out of it just yet.) But soon enough, he was back on the prowl as he'd originally intended, wandering off towards the clan compounds.
He was putting most of his effort in singling out the words of individual shades, having figured them to be something like a person's most undiluted thoughts.
He'd found a lot of ramblings about a demon fox, someone's exes, or a specific superior, but nothing particularly harmful to the village. (All to be expected, really.)
But then he started moving further into the clans' section of Konoha and noticed immediately that their thoughts were a lot darker and far more creative in their violent imaginings. The small blond tried not to look too suspicious or let himself get freaked out by the graphic imagery they provided. Despite this, though, there wasn't really anything he would call overly alarming.
That is, until he reached the gates of the Uchiha clan compound, at the very edge of the village.
It wasn't overly apparent at first, his first probings showing little more concerning thoughts than those of the civilians. But then he went in deeper, clinging to the walls and their shadows, pulling up the hood of his ratty sweatshirt and putting on the gas mask he'd stolen for the occasion. He didn't want his hair to give him away, and he hoped that the mask would make others see him as yet another kid genius rising in the ranks, (or maybe even an ambitious child with aspirations to be a ninja.)
Regardless, he felt stealthier than he'd ever been and he'd be pissed as all hell if this fell through now. He was in too deep, too invested in this. He just had to pretend he belonged there, which was easy enough.
And then came the moment when he heard whisperings of a coup.
He'd come closer to the heart of the clan's land, where he assumed the more skilled shinobi resided; (And naturally, with more skill came higher clearance.) He'd come across someone who had probably just come from a meeting discussing the subject, as that was all his shade would talk about.
'-finally taking action to claim what's rightfully ours! The Uchiha deserve better than this after all we've done for the village! If this could've been resolved peacefully, it wouldn't be a problem. That's fine, the Uchiha always was a war clan, and we never went soft like those Senju! Just need to wait a little longer, heh heh, they'll never know what's comin'!' His shade looked agitated with his emotions, writhing in glee and clawing at its owner with immaterial talons.
He'd found what he was looking for. And so he waited.
He waited until everyone had gone to sleep with the assurance of safety within their village, the village they thought to betray, and were without guards in the night. But still, even after he was sure the streets were devoid of life, he waited some more.
He wasn't positive of how best to do this, knew that while his speed was better than most of his age, he wouldn't be able to handle anyone higher than a chuunin at best. But he had to try anyway.
For Jashin, for Konoha, for himself.
One by one, he infiltrated each house, easily circumventing the locks in place. And then he discovered a neat new trick he could do: with merely mentioning the village's name, the shades would rant about their owner's true feelings, rave about their perceived woes and how they sought to rectify this grave injustice. Naruto's eyes darkened with each traitor he discovered, feeling neither pity nor mercy for those in the wrong.
He'd stifle them with a sevoflurane soaked cloth, (only a the smallest amount; he couldn't have them die prematurely,) then used a bit of metal wire to drag them into the street and tie off restraints.
It didn't go smoothly with all of them, being in varying states of consciousness, but he made it work, just as he said he would. After his first family, he didn't bother with children. (He'd found that children young enough actually lacked a shade, and thus he was unable to verify whatever good or bad intentions they might have had.)
One house turned to two, two to fourteen, and eventually, he had painstakingly combed through each and every house save for that of the clan head. He'd had to move through a few hitches, like him taking too long and having to drug those close to awakening all over again before they could fight back.
He wiped sweat from his brow, huffing heavily. He was worn out and this was taking far longer than he had hoped.
But even still, it was all so easy. Too easy.
He felt that with how many people he'd gathered at the entrance and this being a heavily militaristic clan about to stage a coup, there should have been someone trying to stop him! It made him feel reasonably suspicious and wary, and he put his guard up for when shit hit the fan.
Now came what he would easily say was the hardest part: he had to draw a seal array.
He didn't know the first thing about sealing, so he didn't know that he was supposed to use a proper sealing brush, or that there was a specific ink made especially for the art. All his instructions were was to use his blood to write out the sealing array as perfectly as he could manage.
(Luckily for him, the line-stability and thickness didn't matter much in the end, because what was principle in the face of chaos?)
He tried his best to keep his blood fresh flowing and as unclotted as possible, (a difficult task in itself,) and eventually had the satisfaction of standing up to survey his novice work and revel in the excitement flooding his veins.
Once he was sure the seal was dry, he started piling the sinners atop the mark, careful to keep all their limbs within the confines of the design.
It didn't matter that some of them were starting to come to; they'd all be dead in a minute anyway.
All he had to do was perform the hand signs that would activate the technique, thus granting him temporary immortality! So he carefully went through the sequence of signs, keeping the book open as a reference while also concentrating hard on his chakra output. Once the technique had started, Naruto noticed a larger chakra drain than he'd ever felt before. He didn't think it would be too alarming as long as he got this over with quickly.
The seal had lit up a bright, eye-searing red upon its activation, the outer lines forming a barrier, trapping them inside.
Everyone inside seemed to have been roused by what he assumed was probably a huge chakra drain from the technique, becoming a writhing mass of bodies both real and unreal, hundreds of hands banging futilely against the divide.
The screaming was loud, incessant, and nearly threw off his concentration. He didn't notice the figure appear at the end of the path, just another shade crying in the night while his red eyes couldn't help but memorize the sight of this travesty.
It wouldn't have mattered either way, because even as his clansmen were slaughtered for their crimes, the figure did nothing to stop him.
The ritual was almost done and Naruto could feel the power coursing through him. He felt less sensitive, like he had been raw before undergoing this transformation. With each hand that fell limp in the mass of bodies, another bit of him became unnaturally dark, Jashin's blessing changing his very being.
The figure's eyes were briefly drawn to this morbid process but slinked past without saying a word. He had a job to do, even if this boy had given him a head-start.
Itachi slipped within the compound to finish what Naruto had started.
My search history makes me look sketchy af. The pains of a writer, am I right? But Imma just write as many fuckin' chapters as I can before I burn out because now I just have that itch, you know?
Ah, I wanna write MOAR!