Kurama's tale...

Naruto, the person you know as your father, the person you think of when you see me, wasn't what I was always like. Before you were born, I was very different. Seeing Shukaku reminded me of what I was, what I am: a being of hatred.

No, don't interrupt.

I am a hateful individual. I hate those who have what I can never own, who can do what is impossible for me. I hate humanity, and I hate demons. I hate my family. I hate a lot of things.

I also love a lot of things. Hate and love both burn in the same place in your heart, and are fueled by the same things. The feelings are not opposed to one another, for both oppose apathy, and one can love what they also hate.

I realize now that this is a story I need to tell from the beginning. So let me take you back.

This story starts with a lake. It has long since dried up and been forgotten, but it was by this lake that this story begins. Around this lake, there were ten important beings who called it home: a tanuki spirit, a hellcat, a strong tortoise, a playful monkey, a wise horse, a kind slug, a happy beetle, a courageous ox, a kitsune spirit, and an old man.

Naruto, I bet I know where you think this is going, but no, none of them are us. Not yet, anyway.

Now, the inhabitants all lived around the lake, but they lived apart. Save for the man, the horse, and the ox, none of them knew of the others. Now, within the man lied the ten tails, the demonic fusion of his own mother and the shinju tree, the god of chakra. Contained within the man, the world was safe from the demon god, but the man was mortal.

The man knew this, so he concocted a plan: he would split the demon and her power. But, to do that, he needed souls to keep the fragments apart. So, using his ability "Creation of All Things," the man forged nine vessels for the nine uneven chunks of power he had broken the ten tails into. Bodies and minds, he could forge, but souls were beyond him. He needed a partner for that. Instead, his power sought out the nine strongest souls in the immediate area and reforged them. Imbued with the fragments of the goddess and the essence of the man, those nine souls transformed from beast to person to bijū.

I awoke as something new. Before, I knew love and hate, but never as something like this. Being a person added so many dimensions to everything, but none more so than love, hate, and the pleasures of the body. The old man, now our father, showed us how to transform ourselves into a human. Shukaku and I took it further, teaching ourselves how to change into any human form.

The old man introduced us to the humans of his village, to which we were immediately attracted. By the time he eventually died, we had all found love. And though we didn't know it, we'd found tragedy in the making. At first, our partners all died of old age. So did our next ones. But by the third, we started to see the signs. We were growing stronger, and our chakra was growing toxic. We were poisoning our partners.

At first, we tried to deny it, but that only lasted so long. Worse, I had the ability of power amplification, which made me grow stronger faster. By the time we reached our full sizes and most mature forms, I was twice the size of Gyūki, the next largest. And whereas their lovers could last decades, mine lasted years, or even months.

By that point, the others, save Shukaku, had given up on love. I, however, had not. However, I limited myself to short relationships and one night stands. And while it made me versed in the art of sex, I found myself wanting, hating.

Spiteful, I became. I stole, I cheated, and I destroyed. When I realized that my seed rendered men and women alike infertile, I slept my way through villages, posing as husbands and wives. When I returned, the lack of children had destroyed the towns.

I became bolder. I spent more time in my giant form. I rampaged, laying waste to the countryside. I joined wars, helping whichever side annoyed me the least. My brothers and sisters, though slower than I, eventually came to do the same.

They saw us as monsters. We'd always been monsters of a sort, but the longer we fought, the less we seemed like monsters that were also people. They used us, and we let ourselves be used, all the while growing in hatred.

Eventually, Son Goku discovered the way to open a portal to Hell, though at the time, we simply assumed that it was just another world. We traveled there, and we found demons. Among them, we thrived, gorging ourselves on the souls of the damned and of other demons. Eventually though, we were drawn back to the real world. Some of us, like Isobu and Chōmei, were mellowed out by the experience. Shukaku and I, however, did not.

I had thrived in Hell, far more than any of the others. To be back in this disgusting world, I loathed it. It drove a wedge between us. We fought, and for the first time, we parted as enemies instead of siblings.

As you can imagine, that was not good for me, and I descended into being a creature of pure malice. I did unspeakable things, all in the name of pleasure and spite.

And then my mind was taken from me by Madara Uchiha, and when I was freed, it was by being captured by Hashirama Senju and imprisoned in Mito Uzumaki. For nearly eighty years, I was tortured in solitude. Unlike your seal, Naruto, theirs inflicted physical pain on me my every waking moment — your own mother kept me mounted on fourteen stakes driven through my body.

And then you, a demon, my son, came. You, who could survive my touch. You, who could live for as long as I. You, who reawakened the base, paternal instincts of a fox within me. You, with whom I could finally be happy. For the first time in so very long, I found something I loved without also hating.

So I crafted a mask, that of a lovable pervert, and donned it as soon as I could. And then, when I escaped and was resealed into you, I practiced and practiced and dreamed and wished, hoping that the mask would become my face. Within a year, I was that happy, yet perverted man. Within two, it wasn't even an act. Within the past year or so, I had suppressed all of the last remnants of my old personality. Or so I'd thought.

And then along came Shukaku, who reminded me that this face that I thought I'd crafted for you was actually my real face, from before I was consumed by hate. In fact, I had never really hidden anything at all. I was reminded of myself, and everything that came with it.

So, Naruto, do you want to see my hatred?

Shall I describe for you the sadistic joy I feel when I crush humans between my toes? Shall I tell you about all the lives I've devoured and destroyed, just because? Shall I regale you with my dreams of watching Konoha burn to ash, as the land of Fire lives up to its name?

Naruto, you have the ability to devour others and assimilate their power into yourself, and you have been slowly consuming me. But that's not enough. I want you to devour my brothers, sisters, and their jailers. Take their strength for yourself, I ask of you, for I hate everyone but you.

Or not. After all, this is my story of hatred; yours is just beginning.