Chapter Seven: None
Mid-Afternoon
The Boy's eyes flash open.
The first thing he sees is a white wall and the first thing he smells is antiseptic, and for a fleeting moment, he wonders if he is back in the underground facility. But then he turns his head and sees a mop of pink hair resting on his bed, and he realizes that he is back in the hospital instead.
At his slight movement, the pink head shoots up; it seems that the girl was not sleeping. She looks back at him, a mixture of relief and apprehension interplaying across her face, neither emotion winning nor losing.
"Naruto, you're finally awake!"
"How long was I out?" The Boy experimentally opens and closes his hand, but nothing seems to be out of order. In fact, he feels even more rested than usual.
"Only a day, but you wouldn't respond no matter how much we shook or called out to you..."
The doctors and nurses are perplexed at his sudden recovery, but decide to attribute his fainting spell to the recent stress of the chūnin exam. On the way back to his apartment, the Boy learns from the pink-haired girl that in the short time he was unconscious, both the masked jōnin and the old man visited his hospital room. He wonders if they tried performing any more 'tests' on him.
"What happened?" the Boy asks, when the door slams shut and he can finally pretend that no one is watching him.
The Voice – which had been quiet until then – answers him immediately.
"My excitement overwhelmed you. As you know, we are connected, you and I. I feel everything that you feel, and to an extent, you feel what I feel."
"I've never passed out like that before though," the Boy says slowly.
"I've been careful to reign myself in until now...but when you were still too young to comprehend me, you fainted quite often whenever I went into a rage. The old man feared your body was not a suitable host for me, in fact."
Digesting this information, the Boy falls silent for a little while. Tapping his chin with a finger, he tries to think back to his childhood, but he cannot remember much. It is a soup of sounds, of the easing of screaming into silence – bright colors, and the red of blood dripping down someone's leg – and the sensation of wind on his face as he stands atop a roof. Suddenly, a memory of a hunched figure with long white hair flashes across his mind, and his finger stills.
"Why did you get so excited? You were talking about a key, weren't you?"
"Yes, the key," the Voice murmurs. "That human, if I'm not mistaken, holds the key to your seal."
The Boy's brows shoot up in surprise.
"My seal? You mean the seal that's containing you within me?"
"Yes. And the key has the power to remove or further strengthen the seal."
The Boy opens his mouth as if to speak out loud, but then closes it.
"And you want this key?"
"I have always wanted the key," the Voice replies, and the Boy realizes this to be true. He walks over to his bed and throws himself down on it. Folding his arms behind his head, he looks up at the blank ceiling for a long time. The rays of the afternoon sun shine through the bedside window, lighting up a portion of the ceiling. His eyes are drawn to it, making out every single glinting dust particle. The Voice is quiet.
"So...do we need to kill that man to get the seal?" the Boy finally asks.
"He's too powerful. We'll need to think of another way to get it from him."
"Alright then."
As it turns out, there is no need for them to think of a plan to approach the strange white-haired man. The masked jōnin introduces them to each other, apologizing for his own lack of presence in the Boy's training (it appears that the black-haired boy has woken up, and is now being privately tutored by the jōnin).
"Naruto, this is Jiraiya-sama," the masked jōnin points to the white-haired man, who stares down at the Boy. The Boy stares back, still taken aback. "He'll be training you in preparation for the final exam."
"Make a good first impression on him!" the Voice says to him, so the Boy bows politely.
"Thank you, Jiraiya-sama. I'll be in your care." He tries to sound eager, without being overly so.
A look of surprise flashes across the white-haired man's face, and the Boy is trying to figure out what he did when suddenly, the man rubs the Boy's head with a massive hand.
"Say, Naruto...what do you say to going on a trip with me somewhere?"
The 'trip' does not take long; the white-haired man takes the Boy to the forest a short distance from the village gates. They come to a stop at a small cliff, and the Boy looks around the area, noting with a jolt the pond hidden behind a scattering of reeds and the thin waterfall that cuts through the rocks.
"Have we been here before?" The only times the Boy has been outside the village before have been during missions, and he wonders if he stumbled through the area during one of the more trying animal chase missions.
"The cave we escaped to after you killed that human is not too far from here," says the Voice, its tone sharp. "Stay on your toes. He's likely been informed about that."
But it appears that the white-haired man had no ulterior purpose in bringing them there. Or rather, he seems wholly preoccupied by the women who are splashing at each other in the lake below the waterfall.
"What will you be teaching me today?" the Boy asks.
"Look down here," says the white-haired man, gesturing to the bush he is currently peering through. "What do you see, Naruto?" Dropping to his knees, the Boy describes the scene to the man, who nods in approval. "Good. And so today, I will be teaching you how to get what you want from someone, without their realizing it."
The Boy nods expectantly – but the white-haired man then returns his attention to the women.
Drumming his fingers on the ground, the Boy watches several pigeons flap by. A small rabbit pokes its head out from the thicket behind them; a stray dog with its ribs sticking out against its skin pounces at it but misses, swaying as it crashes into the ground instead. The rabbit disappears in a flash, and after sniffing and licking the ground for a few minutes, the dog slinks away as well.
"So Jiraiya-sama," The Boy rubs his fingers over his wrists, thinking back to when they'd used to be bruised. "When will you be teaching me?"
The man doesn't move, but after letting out a lewd laugh, says, "I'm teaching you it right now."
"Ah, I see." The Boy smiles pleasantly. It is silent for some time, interrupted only by stifled giggling and the sound of rustling leaves. Finally, however, it seems the white-haired man has had his fill of bouncing breasts. He gets up from his crouched position behind the bushes, and stretches languidly.
"Anyways...as you know, Naruto, you host the Kyūbi within your body," the white-haired man begins conversationally. The Boy's fingers twitch. The man dusts off his pants and then looks straight at the Boy.
"Act dumb! Don't give anything away!" the Voice hisses.
"Kyūbi? What do you mean, Jiraiya-sama?" Keeping his frame relaxed, the Boy cocks his head in an appearance of polite confusion.
The white-haired man's face doesn't change. He continues to regard the Boy with a strange look on his face.
"Have you ever heard its voice? Or used its power?"
The Boy's eyes narrow a fraction, and his fingers twitch again. He does not like how the man is looking at him. He does not like the white-haired man.
"He's wide open. If we strike now, we can kill him," says the Boy.
But the Voice howls, "He's deceiving you! Don't fall for it!"
The Boy hesitates; the Voice has never been wrong about anything before. However, he has come to realize that the Voice has not always told him the entirety of what it knows.
"Is that what the thing inside of me is called?" the Boy says at last.
"You're good," says the white-haired man, crossing his arms across his chest. "But you need to work on controlling that bloodlust of yours. I felt it flare just now."
"I'll work on it," says the Boy, his face going blank. The white-haired man reaches for him with his hand. The Boy tenses up, wondering if he is going to try and tie him up and take him back to the old man – but instead, he ruffles his hair again.
"Now that you've at least dropped some of your pretences, I'll stop pushing you about those things," he says. "For now, let me see your chakra control." The Boy has long since mastered the art of directing his chakra flow throughout his body, so he obediently steps out on top of the surface of the pond. His sandaled feet barely make a ripple across the water. "Very nice. You take after Minato in some ways."
The Boy wonders if the white-haired man wants him to ask who that is, but to his irritation, the man is not as easy to read as most of the people he has known until now. So with a mental shrug, the Boy voices the question.
"Who is that, Jiraiya-sama?"
"Hm?" It appears that a new group of women have come to the lake below the waterfall; the white-haired man's attention begins to stray once more. "Oh, Minato? He was the Fourth Hokage. I've heard you want to become the Hokage too?"
The Boy hides a smirk.
"Yes, it's my dream to become acknowledged by everyone in the village," he says.
"I see," says the white-haired man, but he shows no other reaction. "Now, while I do my research, I want you to keep walking on the water like that until you run out of chakra."
The Boy falls silent. For some reason, he feels like he has lost a battle – and the Boy does not like to lose.
He watches the white-haired man's back shake while he giggles lewdly to himself, and his fingers twitch.
He wonders what the man's screams will sound like.
Every day, the white-haired man makes the Boy expend all of his chakra walking on the water, and then afterwards, tells him to try using the 'other' source of chakra within him. He pretends to be unable to call on it, so after a while, they turn to practicing how to emit chakra through other parts of his body – and in this manner, a month passes by.
And finally, the day of the third exam arrives.
The Boy stands with the other remaining genins at the end of a gigantic stadium that is teeming with people.
"You fight until one of you dies or acknowledges defeat," the proctor explains. "But if I determine that the fight is over...I'll step in and stop it, you guys got that?" The Boy feels his lips curve up into a smile. "Now for the first fight, it'll be Uzumaki Naruto versus Rock Lee. You two stay here - and the rest of you, go to the waiting room."
While the others leave, the Boy and the bowl cut boy look at each other. The Boy has never talked to him before, but he recognizes him as the teammate of the one with white eyes.
"This is the first time we meet, Naruto-kun," The bowl cut boy steps back into a tight and well-defined taijutsu stance. "But I've been wanting to fight you since I caught sight of you in the Forest of Death."
The Boy doesn't respond. Instead, he falls almost languidly into a relaxed ready stance, with his knees bent and his hands slightly raised.
"Begin!"
The bowl cut boy doesn't waste time and immediately kicks off, hurtling toward the Boy with startling speed. Leaping up, the bowl cut boy twists his body in midair, leading into a spinning leg kick.
The Boy steps aside just enough, and the bowl cut boy misses, shooting past him. Immediately, the bowl cut boy spins around and dashes toward him again. The Boy focuses his chakra to his fingertips, shaping it into a form as sharp and thin as he can make it.
Just as the other boy is about to crash into him, the Boy flips up into the air, and spinning over him, he slashes out with his hands. The bowl cut boy's eyes widen; he twists to dodge him, wincing as the Boy's wind chakra cuts through the fabric of the back of his green jumpsuit.
They both land nimbly on their feet at the same time. The Boy's hands are raised, his wind chakra still rapidly spinning around his hands like claws. The bowl cut boy is slightly scratched, and small rivulets of blood are trickling down his back, but he looks none the worse for wear. He stares back at the Boy, focusing on his hands.
Without any warning, the bowl cut boy kicks off on his feet again, shooting straight for the Boy with a raised fist. The Boy ducks below the swung fist and slashes out with his hands, which manage to nick the other boy in the chest, ripping through the fabric. The bowl cut boy spins in midair, kicking out at the Boy; he parries with a raised arm, and then punches with his other arm. The bowl cut boy looks perplexed for a split second, as the Boy's hand does not reach him; but then his eyes widen, as several more cuts rip through the leg of his jumpsuit.
The bowl cut boy tumbles to the ground and somersaults back up to his feet. For a moment, he maintains his distance, looking a bit more wary of the wind chakra the Boy is emitting around his hands – but then once more, he hurtles toward the Boy.
"You'd think he'd have realized by now that he should come at me with ninjutsu," says the Boy, dodging and slashing out again. "He's not good enough to take me down close-range, while I'm using my wind claws. At this rate, he'll pass out from blood loss from all the cuts he's getting."
The Boy emits his wind chakra like claws to the tips of his fingers, and can extend and shorten them on will. He fashioned them after the claws he develops when using the Voice's chakra, and refined them over the past month while working on chakra control with the white-haired man.
But the bowl cut boy continues to kick and punch at him continuously, in an endless barrage of taijutsu. After several similar exchanges, the Boy starts to lose patience, and when the bowl cut boy comes at him again with another spinning kick, instead of simply parrying, the Boy reaches out with both hands and grabs his leg. The bowl cut boy lets out a yell, as the wind chakra cuts into his leg; the Boy moves to throw the bowl cut boy into the ground, but he kicks out and spins through the air to land on the ground.
The bowl cut boy is starting to breathe more harshly, and his jumpsuit has ripped through all around his legs and arms. Nonetheless, he looks back at the Boy with fiery determination in his round eyes. It reminds the Boy of a cat he once chased before cornering against the backside of an alley – of the way it looked back at him right before he tore off another one of its legs.
He smiles.
The bowl cut boy lowers himself into another stance and the Boy tenses up – but before either one of them can move, someone shouts from the audience, "Lee! Take them off!" The bowl cut boy's eyes widen, and he begins to protest, but the person – a man who could pass as the boy's father – gives him a thumbs up. "It's alright! I'll allow it!"
Looking excited, the bowl cut boy bends over and in one smooth movement, he rips off a band that encircled his legs. They make a loud thunking sound as they hit the ground, and the Boy realizes they were weights.
"As if taking off some weights will make a difference - " The Boy breaks off as the area in front of him explodes. Something black and green blurs in front of him – and then something orange flashes in front of his eyes, before the Boy feels something slam forcefully into his face, making a crunching sound. His head snaps up, and he feels his entire body careen backward from the kick.
The Boy feels sharp pain wrack through both his forehead and the middle of his face, and he realizes his nose has broken. Something is dripping down the front of his face, and when he wipes at it with his elbow, it comes away red. But before he even has the time to further react, there is another flash of green and then another kick is crushing into his chest. With only enough air left in his lungs to let out a small croak, the Boy flies through the air before crashing into the ground.
"Move! He's coming again!" the Voice shouts, panicked, but the Boy has barely just managed to process his warning before a punch slams into his face again. Staggering backward, he howls in pain as the already broken bones in his nose crack gruesomely in his ears. The Boy feels the wind chakra stemming to his hands fade away, and his hands scrabble at his face, smearing the warm blood all over.
Somehow, through the pain and the excruciating headache, the Boy manages to narrowly dodge another kick from the bowl cut boy and takes several leaps backward. His teeth gritted, he watches the bowl cut boy stare back at him calmly and seriously – and at the thought that once again, he has been backed into a corner, he feels something hot like fire flare up within him.
His fingers twitch.
Except for his very first kill, the Boy has not ever had to truly kill another member of his own species. His recent kills have been very prompt – a quick slash across their throat, a kunai through their head – as the Voice warned him against being excessive in front of watchful eyes. The Boy does not even remember the faces of the bodies he left behind in the Forest of Death.
But does slashing his hand through an artery even count as killing? The Boy doesn't think so. And if that's the case, then until now, his practice in the act of killing has been limited to the animals he has been able to get his hands on, whether it be a pigeon, a rabbit, a dog, a fish, or a cat.
Over his short life, there have been so many people the Boy longed to kill. His old caretaker, the old man, the instructor, the masked jōnin, the black-haired boy, the pink-haired girl, the girl in Wave country, the white-haired man...but always, he has been held back because of the knowledge of what will happen if he does kill them. It has been an ever-constant threat of glinting white animal masks and operating tables, and the Boy wonders, why can't they just leave him alone to kill who he wants?
The bowl cut boy takes a step toward him – and the fire explodes into a searing white wave that wipes away everything else, leaving behind only one thought:
"This time...I'm going to kill him."
The Boy's hands drop limply to his sides. His head is bowed, and the blood on his face drips down onto the ground, one droplet at a time. The noise level of the watching crowd has reached its peak, as they shout bloodthirstily for the bowl cut boy to finish him off. The mid-afternoon sun sears the back of his neck.
"Before he kills me..."
The Boy can feel the Voice's chakra seeping rapidly throughout his body. It heals everything it touches; the pain in his face fades away as he hears the bones in his nose creaking as they reposition themselves and seal the flesh back together.
"I'm going to kill him."
The Voice is shouting something at him, but the Boy is no longer listening. His body is light and brims with power, and he raises his head to match eyes with the bowl cut boy, who stares back at him with widened eyes.
In a kickoff that leaves the ground below him crushed inward, the Boy flings himself across the stadium floor at the bowl cut boy with his hands – sharpened now into real claws – raised. The bowl cut boy dodges him, and the Boy lands before leaping after him again. They are evenly matched now in speed, and for several minutes, they exchange a flurry of kicks and punches, each one getting hit equally – but unlike the bowl cut boy, the Boy's cuts heal almost instantaneously.
"I'm going to kill him."
Finally, the bowl cut boy seems to reach a decision, and throwing himself into the air, he plummets down at the Boy in a fierce spiraling attack that he knows, if it connects, could knock him out. The Boy doesn't hesitate – and it crushes into his body.
The floor around him gives way from the sheer force of the punch, and the Boy feels his ribs crack and then break. Something sharp – a broken rib – pieces into his lung, and he feels it collapse, leaving him unable to breathe.
A look of relief crosses the bowl cut boy's face – right before the Boy's hand shoots up into it and stabs him through the eye.
Blood spurts out and lands on the Boy's face. The bowl cut boy lets out a guttural scream of pain, and staggers backward. The Boy waits, unable to move or breathe – and then the chakra reaches his chest, nudging his ribs back into place and his lung re-inflates.
The Boy gets up to his feet and clambers out of the crater they have just made. He opens and closes his hand as the chakra passes through it, and the bones of his broken knuckle knit themselves back together.
The bowl cut boy is clutching at his ruined eye with his hand, and tears are running down the front of his face from his other. He steps back defensively as the Boy approaches him, and kicks out at him, but the kick has lost its power. The Boy grabs it – and with chakra surging through his arms and hands, he twists it sharply before letting it go. It makes a cracking sound, and as the bowl cut boy screams, his leg falls limply to his side – and the boy collapses down on to the ground.
The Boy looks down at the bowl cut boy, searching his face. But even through the tears and blood, the bowl cut boy looks up at him – with his one good eye – defiantly and determinedly. One thing is clear: he isn't going down with a fight.
The Boy cracks his hand.
"Lee!" He hears what sounds suspiciously like the pink-haired girl's voice. "Run!"
The Boy's fist slams down into the bowl cut boy's face with a crunching sound. The other boy howls out in pain.
"A favor returned," the Boy says.
"I'm...not going down...just yet – " the bowl cut boy speaks with difficulty, but is cut off by another punch. His head snaps to the side, but he turns it back up and looks straight back at the Boy. His limbs trembling, the bowl cut boy attempts to lift himself back up on his arms, but the Boy raises his foot and crushes his elbow.
The bowl cut boy falls back helplessly and the Boy pummels his face. His punches are so forceful, the bones of his knuckles crack again, but it is no problem for him, as they knit together almost immediately afterward. As flecks of warm blood spray at his already bloody face, he notices with delight how the color of the other boy's face is rapidly changing colors to purple and then to red and white as the shredded skin gives way to muscle – but then suddenly, multiple forces are forcibly dragging him away from the stilled body.
They flatten him against the floor, holding his blood-soaked hands behind his back. Other ninja are crowding around the other boy, who now resembles more a mass of bones and muscles and blood than a person.
The Boy giggles.
"I killed him."
A/N: Terribly sorry about the months-long wait. Things uh... happened.
Anyways about this chapter – I know some of you wanted Naruto to be more sneaky but he's really been holding back for a while now. It was about time for the dam to burst.
So! The end is nigh. Do ya'll want the good end, the bad end or the true end? CHOOSE NOW! (Though I'm probably going to write all three anyways).
edit: Note, I'm not saying that the next chapter is the last one, but that we're entering the last phase of this story.