SASUKE: The Fanfiction, a naruto fanfic

SYNOPSIS

…What if Uchiha Sasuke was, in fact, not the one you had always known; gone; replaced by some eldritch… thing.

DISCLAIMER

I do not own Naruto. The original work belongs to Masashi Kishimoto.

STICKS AND STONES

PROLOGUE

KONOHA

SOMETHING in the way we existed—forgotten, discarded beings, bare to the core as souls lost to the Styx—changed. Our perception, catatonic, locked against the emptiness of the void; a flare of desperation for a not-second 'til a kindling of reality emerged again. Calming. Our memory laid bare; a flimsy string stretched unto infinity. Our core—our heart—without a pulse; eroded; nonexistent; then not; the cycle unending; until it was not.

Then, of course, our body was bound to the harsh geometry of language; our existence a singularity for the first time in what felt like aeons; leaving behind the structureless non-sequitur of meaning with which we roamed freely through open planes devoid of colour or concept. Awareness came as a blow to the soul; we vividly remember the first conscious moments of our mortal life filled with a feeling of near-perpetual dread and existential angst. Long before our untempered vocal cords could form coherent words; before the fuzzy haze in our vision cleared; before the turbulent ensembles of emotions that assailed us on a near-constant basis disappeared. A myriad of questions swam through our mind even as our human guardians—ginormous as they were back then—made nonsensical noises at us from where they were poised at the edge of our crib.

Why? We would cry out, fearful gaze roving the world around us. Who? What? Where?

In those moments in which our physical vulnerability became most apparent, we would wonder what resistance our feeble form could present in the face of the hostile universe around us. For a long time—at least until sheer rationality won out—the loneliness, despair and feeling of insignificance were utterly maddening, slowly chipping away at our feeble mind, syphoning at its core; eroding our s͚͍̘̠̖̣͙̰̖a̺͈͕̜͎ͅn͎̞̯̖̦i̟̫̹̼͍t̞̯y̱ͅ.

Then we felt it. A killing intent. An aura so sinister, so cruel, so malicious, that it eclipsed everything else we've felt since assuming our mortal form. In our heart rose a soul-stirring horror. Then we laughed, much to the surprise of our older sibling who cradled us in his protective embrace. It amused us to no end, how low we let ourself fall. Such a minuscule existence frightened us; were we so weak as to succumbing to fearing our own mortality?

Our fears dispersed, leaving us weary, listless and confused. No longer caring about our imminent demise or bodily harm did we discover the potent essence of ennui; the mortal's perception of time utterly torturous. With time though, we grew larger and stronger and soon found ourself capable of some locomotion, serving the purpose of granting us a limit of autonomy. It was then, upon crawling out of the confines of our parents' domicile, our gaze no longer clouded by fear, did we first truly notice the full extent of the world we found ourselves in; a rather unremarkable sight it was; disappointing.

But despite our failed expectations—not that we could say for certain what said expectations were—we did truly appreciate its beauty, the apparent simplicity of it all; bewitching in a myriad of simple ways. Hours a day we would spend pondering on matters of the mundane from our post on the tatami mat by the door, Mother having left the shoji open for our convenience; her caring, ever-watchful eyes trained on us from the periphery of her vision.

We grew larger still and soon graduated from watching great swathes of trees sway hypnotically in the breeze, and clan members busying themselves with training and mundane work to occasionally shadowing our brother, Itachi, on minor errands out of our clan's district into the village. Other times we went on aimless strolls up the mountainous height that was the Hokage rock. On such trips, we would sometimes pause to marvel at the anomalous gravitas and sense of sobriety the distant skyline had on us. It was only then we realised that despite the might of our collective consciousness, we were but an insignificant speck in the heart of an organic machine, tumbling along amongst its many, many gears. The mortality of our physical form fully ensured this. We could feel it, the inability of the human mind to even begin to properly host our ego. Our consciousness. It felt… restraining.

Every day, tens of thousands would tend to the contraption that was this village, living and toiling in it, serving the mechanism of the burgeoning metropolis, making it bigger, better, story by insignificant story and idea by Jejune idea. On the days we toddled not on our brother's trail, or spent hours staring in a ponderous haze as the world went through its phases, we pilfered father's extensive collection, scouring through a myriad of scrolls in a never-ending quest for stimulation. In our free time, we would find ourself fixated on the oddest of things; the erratic flow of traffic through the clan's district; the way the northern winds ruffled the iridescent plumage of ravens perched on the powerlines above; the twisting haze suspended in the air following the execution of a fire-based jutsu. Even the rivulets of sauce flowing down the length of a noodle hanging from a pair of chopsticks possessed the capacity to so fully enthralled us.

With time, life grew busier. Between training with Father, Brother and Shisui-kun, and attending the academy, we possessed less time to simply ponder in solitude, a distraction we had grown rather fond of. By the age of six, we had fully come to terms with the ineptness of the common man; any conversation we might have with most likely destined to be tedious and dim-witted, with social relations, in general, appalling and rote; both early tutelages in the recursive nature of the human experience.

Despite it all though, despite life's many flaws, despite the multitude of fears that plagued our early life, and despite our recurring bouts of existential angst, we cherished our new existence; above all, we cherished the people in it.

001 - Our Blood

KONOHA

THE pain slowly seeped in, despair following closely behind. Rage came after, coursing through our veins as a writhing stream of corrosive chakra. We looked up, a shuddering exhale escaping our lungs as realisation dawned on us. A malevolent desire burned in a corner of our mind as a cold dark flame, scorching the very fringes of our being.

"...Why?"

The question slithered out of our maw as a guttural exhale. The accursed weasel remained silent, crimson eyes staring blankly at us. Itachi … We always wondered why Father named him after such an ignoble creature; tenjō no kotowari o shōakuseshi hitomi; heavenly eyes that see the truth of all of creation without obstruction. The myths of the Mangekyō's divine clairvoyance probably weren't myths after all.

"Why?" we asked again, our mortal form struggling to express the full extent of our ire; a splitting headache; a certain hollowness in the guts, afflicting us as a daemonic malediction. A pounding at the nape of our neck, and then something hot, like the sparks of a nascent flame, shooting up our spine and concentrating behind our temple. A warmth unlike that of tears wriggled and squirmed within our eyes. The world coloured red and the sparks became an inferno, enveloping our entire body. Our eyes, the core of the blaze, burned hot like magma.

"...Curiosity," the beastly thing replied, its gaze unflinching. "I wished to measure my vessel; my worth."

Our breath caught. A soft chuckle escaped our maw; laughter; cackling. "Your worth?" we asked releasing Mother's cooling fingers from our grasp. Woe onto us, stalwart lover of mortal things. The foul thing we once called brother stared blankly at us; we stared back with a hopeless heart and hollowed soul.

Our eyes itched as two lines of hot, viscous tears flowed down our cheeks. Our intent heaved, heeding our call; the universe heaved back in protest. They were not coming back. Not Mother, not Father, not Oba-san Uruchi with her penchant for gifting snacks nor her genial husband. Nobody. They were gone. Forever.

Clawed fingers struck forwards, the air screeching as it was parted cruelly by our chakra-coated digits. With a harsh crack, we disintegrated a wooden pillar across the room. Itachi stood to our right staring down at us. Mockingly.

"Baby brother," it said, "you're weak. Pathetic. Do you wish to kill me? Settle for hating me instead … Hate me, and live like the failure you are. Continue clinging unto your worthless existence for as long as you can; this little I grant you for the sake of my own amusement."

We were upon him the next moment, fist shooting towards his forehead; the weasel, true to his name, flickered for a millisecond before reappearing at the exit. Our gazes clashed and only then did we realise the extent of our folly. Crimson spun, twisting, morphing as it birthed a three-bladed shuriken.

"Tsukuyomi," the weasel whispered. The world around us sloughed off, melting as if drenched in acid, to leave behind a perverted replica of its essence.

"Kai!" We resisted but the Genjutsu refused to dispel.

"Sasuke!" We swivelled on our heels to see Mother on her knees, Father by her side, his countenance solemn. "Run—" The weasel struck; blood gurgled past Mother's parted lips; a crimson line formed around her pale neck; her severed head slid to the ground with a morbid thud: Father's followed immediately after.

We blinked, struck senseless by the inexplicable suddenness of it all. A cold gasp; we blinked again, eyes watering as we fell to our knees. Lies. A clinical portion of our ego reminded us. They were already dead. Then, mockingly, the bodies disappeared, replaced by another caricature.

…He was toying with us, we realised.

How long has it been?

"Pathetic."

How many times had it been now?

"Sasuke! Run!"

"Mikoto!"

We weren't sure, but did it matter?

'...measure my vessel; my worth,' he said. 'Curiosity,' he called it.

Steel.

Blood.

Bile.

Tears.

The spiralling crimson orbs.

Rinse.

Repeat.

…

Repeat

Endlessly, the caricature played. With a hint of dramatic flair, it evolved with each new iteration; mocking us; mocking our inadequacy; our resolve. But the first memory remained; the original untainted by his filth. The swaying—ruined—Uchiha logo hanging from Oji-san Teyaki's vandalised senbei shop; the cold corpses, young and old, littering the district streets; rivulets of the noblest blood pooling in the gutters. Our parents; murdered by a weasel.

The Weasel.

The door opened and in came a figure in white. Beautiful as mortals went. Dark-haired and lithe, the woman—a nurse, we realised after a moment of observation—stood frozen halfway into the room with a tray of medication in her arms.

"...Otousan," she whispered, quivering under our gaze. The tray and its delicate contents slowly slid from her hands, and with a metallic clatter and the tinkling peal of broken glass, it hit the ground. We stared into her eyes, her soul, for a moment—our reflection haggard. Undignified—before looking away.

"Leave me."

The nurse fled from the room.

A masked figure donning a flak jacket—ANBU—jumped onto the window sill in a display of superhuman agility as he drew a kunai from a pouch attached to his thigh.

"Sasuke?"

"I said, I want to be left alone," we croaked, voice hoarse. We had been screaming, we realised. The rage still simmered within us, unabated, but we were far too exhausted to continue expressing it.

A brief pause.

"...Very well," the ANBU said into the ensuing silence before leaping away.

"Sasuke."

"Yes?" We replied, blinking away the haze in our vision.

"Are you listening?" the Hokage asked staring down at us.

"Yes."

"...Sasuke-kun, your brother, Itachi—"

"Murdered my clan out of curiosity; 'to measure his vessel, his worth,' he said."

"...Has been placed in the bingo books," the Hokage continued after a momentary pause, "as an S-rank criminal, to be brought in dead or alive."

A pause

"...Is that all?"

"Itachi will face justice for his crimes, Sasuke-kun, I assure you that."

"...And how do you expect me to believe that?" we asked, tilting our head in curiosity as we turned to face the man. "You failed to protect my clansmen from his wanton lust on Konoha's soil; how do you expect me to believe you are capable of bringing him to justice? What use is the fanciful Kasa you wear on your head if even an entire clan is not safe in your care?"

The Hokage grimaced; we looked on, expression morphing into one of disappointment. The man disgusted us. His attitude, so replete with self-righteousness and hypocrisy. Undignified. Spineless. Weak…

Pathetic.

"You need not worry yourself, Hokage-sama," we tell the senile, old thing. "I will sort this matter out myself."

"...Forgive me, Sasuke-kun," Sarutobi said with a sigh, eyes downcast, "I wasn't strong enough. I know you must be feeling hurt but remember, it doesn't matter what you do; if you live and die as you like. However, no matter what road you end up taking, again, remember, the village always comes first."

I wasn't strong enough. The words stung. With a painful exhale, we ignored the Kage, turning away to look out the window at the rainstorm brewing outside. The air was thick with the scent of cleaning solution, ethanol, and rain—undertones of copper and salt.

It tasted of blood. Our blood.

002 - Uchiha

KONOHA

The boy is a threat. He possesses the Mangekyō. As far as I am aware, his brother had not awakened it until he was twelve; he is just six.

Danzo…

He is a risk to the village, Sarutobi!

He is a child.

Exactly why he must not be left to possess such power!

What would you have me do?

…The boy cannot be left with those eyes; we must seize them. I have seen him; the anger that burns in him is one that can only be quelled in blood. We cannot—must not—let that seed germinate!

…I still vividly remember your obsession with Itachi. Every time you came over, you ended up talking about the boy. What's so different now? I daresay we should be glad we have him; a shinobi shaping up to have twice the genius Itachi is can only be a boon to the village. It would be utter foolishness to cripple him out of blind fear. Talk less of his brother's reaction should he find out we did such a thing.

This is different! Utterly so! Even Itachi would understand the risks of leaving the boy as he is!

…First, you have his brother massacre his clan. Now you desire to cripple him for crimes he has yet to commit? You are so hasty to sentence him, Danzo. Why? Does the boy terrify you?

…You would risk the village's future to shield an Uchiha spawn? Tobirama-sensei would be disappointed in you, Hiruzen.

TIME, ever the swindling crook. He steals the trustfulness of youth, changing it for the bitter truth. Joys he steals and also tears; pilfers hopes and filches fears. It's been three weeks since the… incident; the medical-nin in charge of our case suspiciously reluctant to have us discharged. The trek home was irritating; we could hear them; the peasant folk; their miserable attempts at being discreet failing quite reprehensibly; some in pity, others in gloating schadenfreude. We committed those faces to memory. At a few foolishly whispered words the urge to wring necks rose in us but we stomped the feeling down. We knew they were watching; the ANBU. They always are; unless, of course, during a massacre that is.

The bustle of the village we shed behind us as we slipped into the haunting bubble of silence that was our clan's district. Segregated from the village and banished to the outskirts as it was, the Uchiha compound was devoid of life. At the sound of cawing overhead, our gaze flickered upwards towards a mundane crow perched on the powerline above. In a blur, our left hand flickered and the despicable creature exploded in a shower of iridescent feathers and viscera as a kunai shot through it.

We huffed in annoyance as we watched the projectile disappear into the distance. It would probably be a pain in the backside to retrieve. That was impulsive, we thought in annoyance. A horrible trait to possess as a ninja. Father had long drilled that fact into us. To forget his teachings at such a time … We shook our head, ridding ourself of the thought. Now was not the time; our attention returned to the present. As promised, the bodies had been cleared out, the only reminder of the weasel's rampage being the occasional bloodstain or vandalised property. As we walked through the empty walkways and vacant cobblestone roads a sense of melancholy befell us. They were gone, we remembered. For good.

Our clan's legacy was now our's to care for and protect; all attempts by Sarutobi to forsake this responsibility and accept a domicile governed by the treacherous village we will continue to thwart mercilessly. Those unworthy Konoha dogs were not to be trusted with anything. Not now. Not ever.

Time, ever still the swindling crook. He steals our hope, our daring bold, leaving nought but wisdom's yellow gold. A week goes by. Then another following the charade that was the funeral service prepared in honour of our clansmen. With a sigh, we drop the wet rag we held into a bucket by our feet. The tin container jiggled noisily as we carried it to a nearby drain, the bloody water within swaying with a soapy swish. Our gaze flickered to what had previously been a bucket of water and cleaning solution. Red. It was tinged with the overwhelming red that seemed to be the hallmark of our clan. Red blood, Red eyes. Red fan. Red fire.

Red.

Pathetic—

The metal handle in our palm snapped spilling the contents of the bucket onto the floor. We stared at the flowing liquid for a few moments in stunned silence before sighing. Hunger, some part of us rumbled. With another sigh we discarded the shorn metal band and cleaned the mess before returning to our pare—no, our domicile to have breakfast. even though the sun felt hot on our back. It was already late noon. The perfect time for the first meal of the day, it seems.

With somewhat of a lazy, undignified shamble, we entered the kitchen and began looking around for anything and everything that might still be edible. After a few moments of searching, we came up with a bowl of hoshiume-dried plums from three days ago. It had signs of mould on it. In one of the lower drawers, we found a carton of milk that might or might not be good, a half-eaten, palm-sized senbei sitting on a covered plate on the kitchen counter, and a box of raw soba noodles in one of the upper drawers. Disappointed, we tossed the dried plums, bowl and all, into the sink, filling it with soapy water. Taking a bite from the desiccated cracker we flicked the cooker's dial a few times to confirm if it still had fuel. It did.

Twenty minutes later, we dropped our spoon in the empty bowl before us and drank the last droplets of milk in the carton. The meal could at the very best be considered edible with its strong, earthly tones and mushy texture; nothing like the way mother used to make it. The milk was still good. Maybe. We were not certain. Then again, we did not care as long as the hunger was sated. We tidied the kitchen, making sure to reorganise it exactly the way we met it.

A few minutes later, we sat at our favourite spot by the exit watching as a sapling swayed, its leaves rustling with the gentle breeze. In silent meditation, our mind achieved clarity. We could feel the muted aura of their life force. Suppressed, like a dim flame in the dark expanse of the void. We could hear them, Konoha's watchdogs; their relaxed breathing and decelerated heartbeats served to make detecting them all the more difficult; Jōnin, most probably. One to our left in our periphery and the other directly in front, hiding in plain sight. For what it was worth, even the weasel held our sensory skills in high regard. Father could find no higher praise to describe our talent at it.

With time and practice locating them was getting easier, and faster, but only by a little. No matter how talented we were, they were still more experienced after all. Regardless, this had to be done; if we ever truly desired to find the answers we seek we needed to be beyond the reach of Konoha's scrutiny.

We loathe remembering the rush of pride we once felt at being accepted into this… institute of learning. Now that we look back we realise the academy offered little that our clan did not already offer in surplus. In terms of knowledge, there was little we did not already have or could not acquire from our archives. Everything from the history of the shinobi world continuing from the Sage of Six Paths. The alliances, treaties, and laws of uniformity among the different lands. Fundamentals, advanced techniques, practical strategies in fighting. Theory on physical ninja arts, kekkei genkai. Introduction to chakra. Tailed beasts, ninja beasts. Even an overview of sage barriers and natural energy fundamentals sat tucked away in Father's study. At least they did until the Hokage had the ANBU "relocate" almost everything for safekeeping until he was certain we could safeguard the secrets they contained on our own. Thankfully, we had long memorized the texts. Our losses would have been unimaginable otherwise. Training partners the academy did offer as replacements now that the ones we had previously were all now dead, but the offer in itself was a moot point given our reluctance to expose ourself to further scrutiny. Yet that didn't mean attending the academy was destined to be a waste of time. Our goal here was simple: Intelligence exfiltration.

Whispers ran amok and numerous eyes waxed over our groomed form as we crossed the threshold into the classroom. For a few seconds, the mutterings continued, slowly pittering until an uncomfortable silence finally descended on the class. Our gaze panned around at the gathered assortment of children, noble and peasant-born alike, as we carefully catalogued each and every one of them, sorting and ranking by estimated importance and potential. Most names we did not know, having never bothered to find out in the first place. They were just that unimportant in the grand scheme of things. Now? Not so much. A few were rather easy to deduce though; one Hyuga, an Inuzuka, an Akimichi, and an Aburame.

Our gaze subtly increased in intensity as we glanced at the instructors in front of the class. As usual, the two had snuck in while the students were distracted. "Ahem," the one to the left with a scar across his face said, clearing his throat as we made our way towards a vacant bench. "Uchiha-san, I am glad to see you back here with us. For the duration of your stay here at the academy, I will continue to be your homeroom teacher and he would be my assistant"—the scarred one gestured towards his grey-haired partner. "As before, you can refer to us as Iruka-sensei and Mizuki-sensei respectively, or simply, sensei. Understood?"

We let the question hang in the air for a few awkward moments as we took our time to settle in before replying with a curt nod. "...Yes. Sensei."

"...Good. Now, if you don't mind, please reintroduce yourself to the class."

Our gaze panned around once more at the students observing in silence, not once pausing on a single figure. They all knew who we were. There was not one student who could claim to be ignorant of our identity. "Uchiha," we said simply, letting the weight of the word permeate the atmosphere as we turned to look out the window.

"Sasuke Uchiha."

003 - Assassination

KONOHA

"Uchiha Sasuke," Iruka called, and we stood up and proceeded to the front of the classroom. "Here you are. You did very well." A large circle was drawn around the score "100" at the top of the page we were handed.

"Once again, you're the only one to get a perfect score on the test. Keep up the good work!"

Hearing this, our classmates devolved into an undignified, rambling mess as if they expected anything less. We bowed slightly to the teacher and then returned directly to our seat. Three weeks had passed since we resumed studying at the academy; eight since the weasel's rampage. Though, we had yet to stumble on any particularly valuable pieces of information. A few tidbits here and there we did find of course, but nothing substantial. The lack of significant progress was disheartening, but not unexpected.

Once Iruka managed to settle the rabble, class resumed and the man began a long, unimportant rant about Konoha's history. We paid attention of course, solely for the purpose of cross-referencing what information he fed us with what we already knew. Similarly, we discretely observed the rest of the class, the noble scions most especially, in hopes of gleaning parasitic data from their reactions to the lecture. This wasn't the first time we would be doing this, and over the past few weeks, we had observed a few minor discrepancies that might, or might not, prove important in the long run.

The final bell ran, signalling the end of the last class of the day and we spent a few moments sorting and archiving the data we had gathered. The human mind being what it was necessitated we wrote down the vast majority of the data we gathered before it was inadvertently wiped from organic memory. The notes were encrypted of course, in a tri-layered, multi-structured code we devised using four distinct root languages that we invented for this sole purpose. Should we ourself attempt to decipher this code with only fundamental knowledge of the components that went into its creation, we estimate expending between six to twelve years before making any significant progress in that regard. Essentially, for most, it would be an uncrackable cypher, and for the obscure minority that could possibly decrypt it, it would take far too long for it to be worth the effort.

As we packed up our belongings in preparation to return to our domicile, we noticed two auras lingering in the periphery of our vision. Three if you included the third standing farther off as it observed the two observing us. We recognised all three without having to turn around. The most valuable of the bunch was the third standing farther off. Naruto Uzumaki, A.K.A. The Demon Fox. Information on the child was vague and unreliable at best, but from what we knew he was some Nine-Tails fellow, an apparently malevolent being of unimaginable power trapped in human form.

The other two were Ino Yamanaka—the only child of the Yamanaka Patriarch, Inochi Yamanaka—and Sakura Haruno, daughter of a non-shinobi, merchant family. Passable skill for a child her age, but a civilian nonetheless.

Being observed wasn't particularly strange, given how often we found ourself subjected to scrutiny. What we found strange was the fact that the three seemed to be approaching us for whatever reason. Three weeks since we resumed school and we still had not had anything resembling a conversation with any of our classmates. They naturally hesitated in the face of the outstanding grades we got in each and every one of our classes. All of them had turned ever-so-timid in our presence, apparently intimidated even when that wasn't our intention. We desired to befriend a few, the nobles most especially. Even though people tend to subconsciously radiate information even whilst engaging in the most mundane of tasks, the value of said information could at best be debated. Mining data through dialogue would be so much more efficient. And easier if we possessed a tangible hold on the flow of the conversation. But we knew they were watching. ANBU. They always were. At least one was always within earshot of us. We knew that much given how proficient we were getting at sensing their auras. Actively trying to befriend anyone would set off more alarm bells than we were comfortable with. Or worst, leave us vulnerable to being fed malicious data via proxy should they discover our true intentions. This was a risk we weren't willing to tolerate.

"Being a shinobi requires patience and foresight, especially when engaging in activities as delicate as espionage and counter-intelligence." Paragraph one, page three of the "Introduction to Information Warfare", volume thirteen, by Uchiha Koyoharu. Finally, the two girls approached us.

Is our patience finally paying off?

"Uhm," the civilian girl, Sakura, began, "You're Uchiha Sasuke, right?"

We turned to face her, one eyebrow raised curiously. Her face flushed red with a furious blush which turned angry as her supposed rival smacked her on the back of the head.

"Duh, Forehead-chan!" the Yamanaka girl all but shouted as she grabbed Sakura's collar. "How many other Uchihas do you know to attend the same classes as us!"

"Ino-pig! Mind your business!"

"Girls," we called, ignoring the sting that came with the callous reminder of our clan's demise. "Relax." The two immediately fell silent. Then their eyes widen like saucers as they apparently realised that we were actually talking to them.

"What do you want?" we asked, hoisting our bag on our left shoulder.

"Uhm." it was Ino's turn to start stammering. We waited patiently as she tried to articulate herself. "Are you going home?"

We stared at her for a few moments in silence, watching as her face blushed so hard she nearly sweated blood. "Yes?"

"Uhm." We glanced at Sakura who had spoken but seemed stuck on that particular syllable. The two girls glanced at each other, then seemingly coming to a truce they turned back to face us. "Excuse me!" the two said in unison, bowing before turning around and scampering off.

Guess not.

With a subconscious sigh, our gaze flickered towards the demon container in the rear, but he simply pointed at us from where he stood yelling some gibberish about a rivalry between us, and him becoming Hokage. His outburst lasted only a few moments before a group of girls rose to pummel him into silence. We cast one last glance at the assorted mortals in the room before leaving in disappointment.

After a quick stop at the farmer's market, we returned to our clan's district carrying a bag of groceries. As per usual, a gloomy silence haunted the domicile and the sterile scent of soap and cleaning solution hung heavily in the air. We had long grown to appreciate the solemn ambience; in a way, it reminded us of a more peaceful time, a time when mortal emotions had no hold on us.

With a mental sigh, we pulled off our leather sandals, replacing them with a pair of indoor slippers as we entered the house. It was spotless of course with not a thing out of place, or a sign that anything had been tampered with. But snooping around without being detected was a generic skill amongst all competent shinobi. We entered the house with the assumption that it had either been investigated, or worse, bugged. The groceries were placed on the kitchen counter to be sorted later. We hung our school bag on the stand by the door to our room before entering to freshen up. After a shower and a change of clothes later we were back in the kitchen attending to the groceries.

It was peaceful and quiet. We liked it like that. Of course, we could hardly claim to be alone; an aura lingered just at the fringes of our perception in silent observation. We recognised her; it was ANBU number five again. She was here two times last week before disappearing for a while. Guess she's back again. It wasn't all bad, we supposed. At least our ANBU intelligencers were the quiet sort of neighbours, even if they didn't pay for spending the night on our property and were nosier than we would have liked.

A small flock of sparrows chirped noisily on the fence outside. From the garden came the dry sound of the bamboo rocker arm of the shishi-odoshi clacking against a rock. The trickling noise of water filling the decorative garden implement filled the silence following each clack. At that moment, two unknown auras appeared in our field of perception. One confronted our ANBU friend while the other made a beeline towards us.

Barely a moment had passed since we perceived the interlopers when a blur smashed through our window, its long fingers curling around our neck. In a puff of smoke, the attacker—an auburn-haired, amber-eyed, masked fellow in a short red kimono and black jacket—found himself holding onto the mopstick we substituted with. By then we had jumped out the damaged window, racing through the streets of the clan's district in the direction of the village. We skidded across the concrete floor on a layer of chakra, angling ourself so as to let a kunai from the side shoot past our head. With a kick, we righted our inclined body, but our assailant had already caught up, standing across from us.

Good. We were far enough now that it was less likely the fool damaged our home.

Our hands blurred through a series of hand signs, and with a guttural exhale we launched a fireball at the attacker. The inferno tore the street, shattering windows and toppling electrical poles. Almost instinctively we formed a tiger seal, flickering unto a rooftop. The unknown shinobi stood where we were just moments ago, stabbing his kunai through the head of our afterimage. We stared at him, our Sharingan flickering towards the shadow of a smile forming in his eyes. "Got you, you little bugger."

We jumped to the side a moment too late, eyes flickering towards the shinobi's main body on a nearby rooftop as the mud clone down on the street melted away. The fellow stood legs apart, his hair badly singed and fingers entwined in the technique-specific hand seal of the Yamanakas. A pulse of foreign chakra entered our body. In our mindscape, a figure appeared. He looked around for a moment before seemingly deciding he had better places to be as he turned tail, his ego fleeing back to his body.

"Sōzōamatsukami," we whispered before the fellow could break eye contact, a line of bloody tears running down our right cheek.

004 - Patriarch

YOMI'S DOMAIN

THE air was thick with a heavy mist, obscuring our view of the world around us. The sky above was a bleak shade of grey, the clouds so thick that they seemed to press down on us, suffocating and oppressive. The trees that surrounded us were bare and twisted, their branches reaching out like skeletal fingers. The ground beneath our feet was slick, and the sound of our footsteps on the wet crystalline floor echoed eerily in the stillness.

There was a deep sense of foreboding that hung over the scene as if the world itself was holding its breath in anticipation of some great tragedy. The silence was only broken by the occasional crackling of bare branches, adding to the gloomy atmosphere. In the desolate sky, a great fractal Mangekyou hung like an august moon, peering through the thick fog as it bathed the world in a reddish tinge. As we walked through the desolate landscape, we felt a sense of unease settle into our bones. It was as if the world around us was conspiring to make us feel small, a mere blip in the grand scheme of things. Insignificant.

The gloom of the scene was almost palpable, weighing heavily on our chakra. The world around us spun. We knew what was happening, but that knowledge did nothing to ease the unease that was gripping us. Under the celestial gaze of our Sharingan, our thoughts became jumbled and confused, and we couldn't seem to focus on anything. Our mind was racing, filled with images and scenarios that only increased our anxiety. It was like a never-ending cycle of fear and panic that we struggled to resist—

"Kai!" Yomi shattered like a broken mirror releasing us from her cruel grasp. Uncontrollable. Unfeeling. Unstoppable. There was no place for the living in the land of the dead, she reminded us. We looked inward, feeling for our chakra and wincing as we perceived the amount of damage we had wrought on our chakra network with just a single use of the technique.

Our breath came in ragged gasps, chest heaving with the effort of staying on our feet, movements slow and laboured. We caressed our face, wiping away the line of blood that dripped freely from our left eye, staining the ground beneath our feet. The light in the eye felt dimmer, weaker, somewhat. Truly, she was a cruel, selfish mistress. We sought so little, yet she took so much in return.

We could feel our strength waning, but it wasn't over yet. We delved into our mindscape, sensing for our assailant's partner. He was fleeing, apparently having realised his partner's failure. ANBU number five chased him for a while before suddenly stopping, a mass of corrosive chakra blocking her path. From the opposite direction came the chakra signature of a group of newcomers. ANBU, most probably, likely having noticed the inferno blazing through the outskirts of our clan's district. Our good eye panned to our accursed assailant, one that forced us to resort to taking such drastic measures. Our face a mask of pain, we hopped towards the man where he lay on the rooftop, falling to our knees by his side.

We tore off his mask before locking our good eye with his catatonic ones, Sharingan flaring with malice as we placed his broken mind under a Genjutsu. Without a will to stop us, we puppeteered his psyche, forcing some semblance of sentience unto him.

"Why do you want me dead?" we asked.

"Ugh…" his reforged mind moaned back in response. This would be harder than we projected, we suddenly realised. Yomi had claimed her dues and her greed seems to know no bounds; all that was left of our assailant was but a tattered soul in a husk of meat and bones.

"...Who sent you?" we tried again, moulding more chakra into the Genjutsu construct that puppeteered the fellow's psyche.

"...Dan—," the husk began before we lost our grip on the construct; the shinobi's face went slack, his tongue lopping out to reveal a strange seal in the shape of three solid lines and two broken ones extending from the back of the organ to the tip. The seal seized the corpse's entire chakra network, inadvertently dispelling the Genjutsu. We looked down at the body, feeling a cold rage simmering at the sight. The fellow's mind was already on the precepts of collapse; any more meddling of that scale would simply cause it to collapse completely. With a sigh we attempted to erase the fellow's memory of our fight, failing spectacularly at cleaning the sections that contained the echoes of Yomi; instead, we simply sealed the thrice sage-damned thing before hopping down from the rooftop to lean on a nearby wall, kunai in hand.

"Always on time, ANBU-san," we say with a lilt as we turned to face the new arrivals, ANBU number five had at some point joined them. She stood in the rear looking a bit worse for wear. "Always on time."

The council hall was empty save one ANBU who watched us warily. Word must spread fast amongst their ranks given the amount of apprehension with which he beheld us. We sat on a waiting bench, by a thick double door to our left. The door had an intricate leaf pattern carved underneath a thin layer of lacquer. Despite its pristine appearance, it was probably as much of a relic as some of the council members themselves were. Lazily, we dragged our gaze to the open window, watching as the sun slowly climbed up the northern slope of the cloudy sky.

With a sigh, we closed our eyes, leaning back to feel the cool touch of the wood-panelled wall on our back. The hall was near completely silent. Silent enough that we could listen past the cool morning breeze. Past the soft chittering of squirrels in the distant trees. Past the soft thud of a nut falling from the canopy. There, hidden beneath all that racket was a soft, slow heartbeat. Rhythmic, gentle and distinct. A ninja. Another a few paces behind them. A few more in the distance; about five in total.

We opened our eyes at the sound of a door opening. Another ANBU walked out of the halls' inner chamber, looking at us. "Come," he said simply before turning around to return.

We rose to our feet and followed. As we reached the threshold of the inner hall the world suddenly fell silent. Sound-repelling seals for soundproofing, we observed. It was similar to the ones in our district's inner sanctums. Crossing the threshold, the voices came to us, loud and angry. Our eyes panned across the room, Sharingan taking and processing every detail before instantly fading out. It was a large, but sparsely furnished room; lanterns sat on a large and long table set before nine large chairs; Sarutobi sat on the largest, Danzo Shimura, Mitokado Homura, Utatane Koharu and Shibi Aburame on his right in that order, and Inoichi Yamanaka, Shikaku Nara, Choza Akimichi and Haishi Hyuga on his left, also in that order.

We abruptly realised the council had fallen silent as all nine council members sat staring at us incredulously.

"What?" we asked.

"You see what I mean!" Koharu shouted, pointing a boney finger at us. "He has no regard, no respect for the council or the Leaf! Accursed Uchiha spawn!"

We were confused. Seemingly noticing our confusion, Sarutobi sighed, rubbing his forehead.

"Do you not know it is a breach of social conduct to display a Kekkei Genkai in a gathering such as this one, Sasuke-kun?"

"No, Hokage-sama, I am just six so I hope I can be forgiven for not being aware of this fact as I have no one to properly instruct me on such matters. Also, I was very recently attacked by a Jōnin-ranked member of the Yamanaka clan and only barely survived; I hope you can forgive me for being cautious, Hokage-sama."

The hall fell silent again.

"...Are you certain of the veracity of these words, Sasuke-kun?"

"Of course, Hokage-sama," we said, turning to face Inoichi. "The fellow performed the technique-specific hand seals used for executing the Mind Transfer Jutsu. And as we all know only people belonging to the Yamanaka Clan are taught this technique. I wonder what my Uchiha clan has ever done to offend the Yamanakas so for them to so openly desire to assassinate its patriarch."

"Patriarch!?" Koharu squawked in disbelief. "The gall!"

"Am I not the oldest living male member of the Uchiha Clan? By duty, custom and tradition, I am the Uchiha Patriarch.

"Your vile brother lives, boy," the accursed hag sneered. "You are no patriarch."

We stared silently at the woman for a few moments before looking back to Inoichi. "Mind yourself, Koharu. I tolerate you only because of the seat you hold in this council. But please do not forget, my noble clan's matters are well beyond the onus of your post."

The woman snapped but we had already tuned her out, turning to stare silently at the Yamanaka patriarch. The man stared back, his gaze cold. "We have no standing conflict with the Uchihas," he said finally after Sarutobi succeeded in silencing the old hag. "Fuu's decision was entirely his own."

"Does the Yamanaka clan disown him then?" we ask.

"...Yes."

"Then you would have no problem if my Uchiha clan deals with what remains of him as we deem fit?"

"Fuu would remain in the custody of the ANBU division until further notice," Sarutobi interrupted with a tired sigh. "This matter would be investigated further. You may return to your domicile, Uchiha-san."

"By your will, Hokage-sama."

As we rose to our feet, our gaze panned across the assembled councilmen, pausing for a moment on Shimura's oddly withering gaze. "...I would advise this incident not to repeat itself," we said to no one in particular as we turned to leave. "I would hate to have to kill any more of Konoha's shinobi to make the world understand that the Uchiha clan would not be snuffed without dire repercussions."

And on that note, we departed the council presence.

005 - Six Years Later

KONOHA

"...From this day forward, you are no longer mere students of ninjutsu, but full-fledged shinobi," Iruka said from where he stood at the front of the class. "But amongst the ranks of the shinobi, you are mere novices," he continued. "The lowest of the low. Your greatest challenges all lie ahead. The next step is the assignment of official duties to you all on behalf of our village. We will begin by dividing you into three-man cells. Each would be monitored by a Jōnin, a more senior ninja who would guide and coach you as you become familiar with your various assignments."

We leaned back into our seat observing as the classroom grew abuzz with feverish whispering.

Iruka cleared his throat and the class slowly grew silent. "I made the selections so that each cell's abilities would be roughly the same," he said, inciting another round of whispering. It took longer to subdue the class this time around, and when Iruka finally succeeded in doing so he pulled out a list from which he began listing the team compositions.

"...Next, cell number five. Haruno Sakura, Uzumaki Naruto," —the demon fox jumped from his seat hooting in celebration— "and Sasuke Uchiha." Our gaze flickered towards a now jubilant Sakura. She caught our stare, flushing to the neck as she hurriedly comported herself. Beside her, the Yamanaka princess sulked, a despairing expression on her face. It mirrored the one Naruto wore upon hearing our name listed for the cell. The boy, in his immaturity, held a grudge against us; probably as a result of how quick we always were to dismiss his rather outlandish ideas.

And as expected, the demon fox spent the next few minutes in protest at our placement in the same himself. Unbeknownst to him, we would rather have the strange creature within arm's length. For research purposes if nothing else. If half the rumours we've heard about the boy over the years were true it would be a very profitable endeavour indeed.

Our attention spanned back towards Iruka as resumed his instruction on our next course of action. "...introducing your ninjutsu instructors this afternoon," he said, "until then, you are dismissed."

Are these his notes? Are they all handwritten?

Ah… Yes. All two thousand, five hundred and seven-two of them.

But… the penmanship … It looks typed out. Everything. Not a misshapen character anywhere. What do these even mean? I am having problems making sense of the cypher.

If you could do that at a glance I would be impressed. The intelligence division has been struggling to crack the code for nearly six years now but cannot boast of having made any significant progress. In fact, they suspect he modifies the cypher every few months just to keep things interesting. Inochi claims his analysis team has a running grudge against the boy; they want him in their ranks, but cannot, fearing the risks that such a decision would entail. Apparently, such conflicting opinions make them very uncomfortable.

…I see.

Kakashi, the decision to make you the boy's Jōnin-sensei was unanimously made by the inner council. Not only as a tutor, no. But rather as a… supervisor. A handler.

A spy.

…Yes.

…They don't trust him.

…

I understand, Hokage-sama.

…Thank you. What's more, you will be overseeing Naruto as well. Best of luck.

…I will do what I can.

"Our teacher is late!" Naruto proclaimed, poking his head out the window in search of our instructor. "All the other teams have already gone off with their Jōnin-sensei. Even Iruka-sensei has gone!"

"Hey! What are you up to Naruto!" Sakura shouted as the boy started scribbling some nonsense on the board. We ignored them in favour of observing the aura we just perceived. It rapidly approached the classroom before stopping just outside the window. For a few curious minutes, the Jōnin, our new sensei apparently, waited outside. Then as spontaneously as he arrived, he entered the classroom.

Our left brow rose as we turned to regard the man. He had a unique appearance, to say the least. Spiky silver hair oriented to his left. Dark grey eyes—one of which was concealed by the headband he wore crooked on his forehead— and a dark-blue cloth mask covering the lower half of his face. The mask overlapped seamlessly with the bodysuit he wore underneath his shinobi garb. He leaned against the windowsill, his posture lazy and relaxed.

"Yo!" the man said in greeting. What a strange fellow.

"Now, I would like you all to tell me a little about yourselves," our Jōnin-sensei said leaning against a metal railing.

"Like what?" Sakura asked.

"I don't know. The usual?"

"The usual?"

"Yes. Your favourite thing… What you hate the most… Dreams. Ambitions. Hobbies. Things like that. The usual."

"...Why don't you go first?" Sakura ventured.

"Yeah!" Exclaimed Naruto. "After all, we don't even know who you are!"

"Oh… me? My name is Hatake Kakashi. I am the kind of person who doesn't like talking about his likes or dislikes. My dreams for the future are none of your business… but anyways, I have a lot of hobbies."

"…"

"Now, it's your turn," Kakashi continued, gesturing towards Naruto.

"Uh? Me? Right! My name is Uzumaki Naruto! I like instant ramen! I like Ichiraku ramen even more! What I hate is the three-minute wait after I pour in the boiling water. I dream of one day becoming Hokage!"

A look towards the Jōnin as he turned his attention towards us. "You?"

"My name is Uchiha Sasuke."

"..."

"...Is that all?" Kakashi asked, filling the ensuing silence.

"That's all that matters," we tell him. Quid pro quo. Not that we intended to give him any accurate information about ourself even if he had done so himself.

"O…K. And finally, the young lady?"

Sakura perked up at the request, eager to volunteer information. "I am Haruno Sakura. My favourite thing is… well, it's not a thing… It's a boy… His name is…" she glances at us, blushing. "My dream is…" she glances again at us, blushing further. Then her face clears up as she continued. "I hate Naruto!" she growls glaring at the boy who wilts underneath her gaze. Then the next moment, she was a blushing mess again. "My hobbies are—"

"Enough!" Kakashi interrupts her. I stared at the girl and her blush deepens even further. Pitiful thing. Her hormones were making a mess of her brain. What a dreadful feeling that must be.

"I believe we all understand one another," Kakashi said, wrangling the conversation back on track. "Formal training begins tomorrow. Our first project would be a survival exercise. Remember to come prepared."

"Survival exercise?" Naruto asked, perking up. "Our school days were filled with survival exercises. This would be easy!"

"Oh." Kakashi's gaze turned predatory. "But you'll have to survive against me. It won't be your typical practice exercise. In fact, the test we are about to perform has a seventy-two per cent chance of failure. Should you fail, you would have to hand in your headbands and return to the academy for further training."

Sakura and Naruto turned pale at those words. We watched Kakashi with one brow raised in amusement. 'Bluffing already, are we?'

"In any event," the man continued, ignorant of our thoughts, "we'll meet tomorrow morning on the practise field so I can evaluate each and every one of your skills and weaknesses. Bring all your ninja tools and weapons. And don't have breakfast beforehand… unless, of course, you would prefer throwing up."

The Jōnin reached into his flak jacket and pulled out three scrolls before handing them out to us. "The details of your assignment are in these scrolls," he said. "Memorize it.

And don't be late."

006 - The Bell Hunters {PT. I}

KONOHA

The Next Day.

"YOU ARE LATE!" Naruto declared, pointing an accusing finger at the newcomer. Sakura stood off to the side pouting in disapproval. We stared at Kakashi as he sauntered into the clearing thirty minutes later than the agreed-upon time. Our Jōnin-sensei had a penchant for arriving late it seems. Of course, the silver-haired shinobi had arrived a bit earlier than he let slip, about ten minutes ago, during which he simply hung around, observing us in silence. But that didn't change the fact that he had indeed arrived late.

"Good morning, class," the man said as he approached. He gestured us over, pulling out a scroll from his flak jacket before laying it down on one of three conveniently situated stumps in the clearing. His hands flashed through a series of hand seals and the storage scroll exploded in a puff of smoke to reveal an alarm clock and three bento boxes.

*ping*

"I have set this alarm to go off at noon," Kakashi began. "I have with me here two small bells. Your task is to steal these from me before the timer sounds. Anyone who fails doesn't get any lunch. Instead, you will be tied to this tree stump where you will watch as I eat your lunch in front of you."

Both Naruto and Sakura flanking us paled at the older shinobi's declaration. "So that's why you told us not to eat anything," Sakura said, in despairing realisation. "...But, I am on a diet. I haven't eaten anything since last night…"

Kakashi's eyes squinted as he smiled at her. "No problem. All you need is just one bell… apiece. But, since there aren't enough bells to go around one of you is definitely headed for the stump!"

Kakashi leaned back, straightening his pose as he dropped the intimidation act. It was effective of course. Both Naruto and Saukra positively quivered in their sandals despite how hard they tried to hide it. "You may use any method in your arsenal," Kakashi continued. "Come at me with the intention to kill or you will never stand a chance."

"I won't lose!" Naruto shouted, almost as if to reassure himself.

Our Jōnin-sensei stared at the blonde for a moment before shaking his head as he reached into a pouch by his waist. His hand came out clutching a small orange book with the words "Make Out Paradise" written in a gaudy font on the cover.

"Go," Kakashi said, announcing the start of the exercise.

~KAKASHI~

"The basis of all shinobi art is to become invisible. To lurk in the shadows and strike when the enemy least expects it," Kakashi said, flipping through the pages of the booklet in his hand. His gaze flickered up to regard Naruto and, surprisingly, Sasuke still standing in the field across from him. Both boys had made no attempt at concealing themselves. "I presume Iruka had taught you both at least this much, no?"

"Haha!" Naruto guffawed, knuckles stuck to his waist in what the boy must have assumed was a heroic stance. "Who cares about all that? It's time for the match to begin!" he declared.

"Match?"

"Yeah! A real match worthy of the greatest warriors! Our battle shall be LEGENDARY!"

Kakashi resisted the urge to facepalm. He turned his gaze towards the Uchiha scion. The boy stood stoically in the field, his eyes half-lidded and arms dangling loosely by his side. Relaxed. Sunlight glinted off the metal headband on his forehead. A stiff breeze blew past, ruffling his overgrown hair and loose kimono sleeves, his aura tranquil. "What about you, Sasuke," Kakashi called to the boy. "Are you also waiting to engage in some "legendary" battle against your Jōnin-sensei?"

"Oh," the Uchiha replied, seemingly distracted, his half-lidded gaze flickering to meet Kakashi's. "No," he said. "Unfortunately, I am not interested in that."

"...Then why are you here?" Kakashi asked, confused.

"...But, I am not here?"

"What do you—" another stiff breeze blew through the clearing and Sasuke—or rather his clone—dispersed like a puff of smoke in the wind.

For a split second, Kakashi froze. '...He's gone', the Jōnin realised abruptly. A subtle chill ran down his spine and his alertness cranked up to eleven. The boy left and Kakashi, his Jōnin-sensei, failed to notice when. The copy of Make Out Paradise in his hands snapped shut with a clap. A few seconds later, Kakashi realised he had instinctively retrieved a kunai from his pouch. Embarrassed, he surreptitiously returned it.

"Stop ignoring me," Naruto said, launching a flying kick towards Kakashi's head. The Jōnin leaned to the side letting the boy's attack sail past him. "Ah," Kakashi said rubbing his head, "sorry about that."

Naruto huffed in annoyance before he began to form a series of hand seals. "Kage Bunshin no Jutsu!" the boy shouted as he completed the technique. In a puff of white smoke, fourteen physical copies of Naruto manifested and began racing towards the Jōnin. Kakashi, still subtly scanning the forest shrubbery for any sign of his missing pupil glanced at the approaching Narutos. "Let me teach you your first ninjutsu skill," he said, diverting a portion of his attention away from his search towards his other pupil. "Taijutsu; the art of the trained body!"

The next moment the barrage of orange-haired boys in jumpsuits reached him. Kakashi reached out with both hands, grasping the ankles of two Narutos, and plucking them from the air. The Jōnin swung his arms to the side, using the clones to bludgeon two others out of existence. Leaning aside, he dodged the attacks of four other clones. His attention flickered towards the original Naruto attempting to sneakily flank him from the left. He punched out, dispelling a clone before letting another latch onto his left arm.

"Hehe," the clone chuckled as it held down Kakashi's arm. Another leapt, wrapping itself around his right leg. "Got you!" the first clone said as the original Naruto raced towards the Jōnin from behind, arm pulled back to deliver a punch to the back of his skull. "This is payback for ignoring me!"

The arm struck, knocking out one of Naruto's clone and dispelling it. Kakashi who had substituted his way out of Naruto's binds snuck up into the forest canopy in search of the still missing Sasuke, leaving a confused, orange-haired genin behind in his wake.

007 - The Bell Hunters {PT. II}

KONOHA

It had been thirty minutes and Kakashi still hadn't found any trace of his missing student. It was as if the boy had disappeared into thin air. After a while, the Jōnin stopped searching for him though. There was no need to he remembered. Sasuke still needed to retrieve one of the bells to pass the test, and given both bells were currently on his person the young Uchiha would eventually have to come out of hiding to steal one.

Kakashi glanced at the Naruto clone that made its way towards the trap he had set under a tree a short distance away. The Jōnin could not be sure if it was intentional or not, but using the clone to retrieve the bell which was serving as bait was a stroke of genius as far as the airhead, Naruto, was concerned. As expected, the clone bumbled towards the bait with zero regard for the trap lying beneath it. Moments later the Genin clone found himself summarily caught and hoisted up by a foot into the air.

"Ack! What the heck?" Not-Naruto exclaimed, dangling from the booby trap. Seeing this, Kakashi revealed himself, sauntering towards the careless Genin. "To be caught in such an obvious trap, Naruto… Stupid."

"Hey!" the orange-haired boy exclaimed in protest as he struggled to reach for the bell just outside arm's length of his fingers. Kakashi shook his head as he bent over to retrieve the item. Purposefully, he left his back exposed in hopes of luring Sasuke out of hiding. His attention panned around in search of the stealthy genin as he rose to regard Naruto's clone once more and continue his lecture.

"Shinobi read the hidden meanings within the hid—" For the second time that day, Kakashi found himself frozen. Dangling in the air across from him was a clone of Naruto staring at him with a pair of Sharingan spinning in its eyes. Kakashi lept back a few dozen meters, ripping away the headband concealing his own Dojutsu. With a few sporadic bursts of chakra, the Jōnin dispelled the Genjutsu the Genin was skilfully trying to worm into his psyche.

"Useful, isn't it," Not-Not-Naruto said as he fluidly slid out of the booby trap suspending him in the air, the sole of his feet soundlessly hitting the forest litter. "That Sharingan serves you well. I can see now why the Hokage remains adamant about not returning it to my care for proper disposal. It would be a great loss to the village if you ever lost it."

"...Sasuke."

The Genin didn't respond, simply reaching into the pouch by his thigh to retrieve a handful of shurikens, arm blurring as he lobbed them at Kakashi. The Jōnin dodged the barrage before raising his forearms to block the flurry of kicks that were launched at him from mid-air. Kakashi leapt back another handful of steps as the Uchiha scion reached for the bells by his waist. Behind him, he heard a rustling in the leaves. Leaping up into the canopy Kakashi dodged the kunai trapped he inadvertently triggered during his retreat.

Predictably, another flurry of kunai shot out in the canopy above, their trajectories intersecting in a skilful attempt to cut him off. Kakashi subconsciously formed a tiger seal, launching himself out of the way at superhuman speed as chakra imbued his muscles. He hit the floor skidding, eyes flickering to meet Sasuke's. The boy's Sharingan remained active even as he lobbed another barrage of kunai in the Jōnin's direction. Kakashi twisted out of the way, nearly missing the explosive tag wrapped neatly around one of the projectiles.

An explosion rocked the forest the next moment and Kakashi found himself tumbling through the air, only just barely avoiding the detonation. He hit a tree feet first, arms swinging out to lobbed cords of wire strings that immediately attached themselves to trees, creating a screen of booby traps between himself and the younger ninja. Hopping back a few dozen meters and leaving a minefield of traps in his wake, Kakashi glanced back at the aftermath of Sasuke's assault. A pillar of smog rose from the location where his explosive tag went off. Immediately, Kakashi scanned the forest for his students' locations; Naruto and Sakura were a distance away from their battleground, thankfully, with Sasuke again, lost to the void. The Jōnin cast a glance at his waist, relief flooding his chest at the sight of the bells still attached to his person. It would have been a rather embarrassing ordeal to find them missing.

"...This was a terrible idea," Kakashi sighed, whispering to himself.

Periodically cycling his chakra, Kakashi watched the young Uchiha standing across from him. A stiff wind blew by, tossing the boy's long silken hair around. "Tired?" Kakashi asked, one hand resting on his hips. The Jōnin himself was starting to feel a bit fatigued as a result of the Genin's relentless assault. He was well aware of his status as a non-Uchiha and how that would translate in regards to how he would utilize his Sharingan. The strain from keeping it active for the past few hours was starting to get to him, but he had little choice in the matter. Either that or risk falling victim to the boy's own Sharingan. A dreadful thought indeed.

"Yes," the Genin replied. "You? Keeping your Sharingan active for so long must not be very chakra-efficient for you either, Sensei."

"Cheeky brat." Sasuke smiled in response but did not move from his spot. "Aren't you going to going to try to steal a bell from me again?" Kakashi asked. "Or is it that you have given up?"

"I might in a moment. If I deem it necessary."

Kakashi's right brow rose in curiosity. "Necessary? What are you waiting for?"

"Naruto."

"...Naruto?" Kakashi repeated, baffled. "Why are you waiting for him?"

"He hasn't found his bell yet."

The silver-haired Jōnin froze, then sighed, cycling his chakra again to dispel any Genjutsu that might have been cast on him. At the same moment, Sasuke's Sharingan faded out and the bells that rested by Kakashi's hips disappeared from his perception.

"...You bypassed my Sharingan?" Kakashi asked.

"Yes."

"How?"

"I am better at using the Sharingan than you are, Sensei."

"...Since when?"

"A while ago. It was harder than I expected even taking into account your Sharingan. Troublesome thing that habit of yours is; always cycling your chakra. But after the Genjutsu took hold, the matter of distracting you, while I knocked the bells off for the others to gather, proved much easier."

"...But you have no bells of your own. You've failed the test. I hope you remember the consequences of failing the test."

"I do," Sasuke said, nodding. "I might have failed the test, but the overall objective was achieved regardless so it matters little. A moot point you might say."

"...You had breakfast before coming today, didn't you?" Kakashi said, squinting at the Genin suspiciously. "Even though I warned you not to."

"...Yes?"

"And of course, you aren't worried about being sent back to the academy … You were never worried about being sent back to the Academy."

"..."

"Well then," Kakashi sighed as he trudged away in the direction of Naruto and Sakura's auras, "let's go."

"...This was a terrible idea," the Jōnin sighed to himself again. "A terrible idea I tell you."

008 - Family Secrets

KONOHA

It's been several months—nearly half a year—since our first exercise with Kakashi. Apparently, our performance was so far from the Jōnin-sensei's expectation that the man was conflicted as to whether or not to continue as our instructor. Thankfully, the Hokage was able to talk some sense into him and prevent him from doing something foolish.

Contrary to our earlier expectations, we would very much prefer the shinobi remained within arm's length of us for the foreseeable future. A Sharingan capable of resisting the influence of our own for as long as his did, despite not being in the possession of its original owner, could not be just any ordinary Dojutsu. Keeping an eye on it could prove to be a rather prudent decision in future.

During the weeks following the exercise, we were issued our first missions. D-rank, of course; all of which would have proven absolutely useless had we not required a plausible excuse to interact with Konoha's civilian social infrastructure, as well as, the more valuable members of its mundane populace. Even with Kakashi's strict supervision, and the oversight of our, secretive but perpetually present ANBU watchmen, profiteering from this windfall didn't prove to be much of a hassle.

Over the years we had perfected our mastery of subtle Genjutsu, a technique that had long proven itself indispensable in our arsenal for soliciting confidential information discreetly. It was, to an extent, effective even against Jōnin as our experiments with Kakashi during the bell test had proven. Though, in hindsight, our decision to so blatantly experiment on the shinobi was a poorly thought-out one. We could see the phantom of an invisible hand guiding us away from more lucrative targets, evidently in response to our strategic blunder.

It was fine though. The losses weren't that important in the grand scheme of things. These days, very few things truly were. We wiped the last smudges of dirt from the kitchen cabinet before putting aside the cleaning supplies we had been using. We washed our hands before drying them with a thick towel as we leaned against the exit in scrutiny of our work. That was the last of our chores for the day.

Content with the spotless nature of our domicile, we made our way for the bathroom, only exiting the cubicle nine minutes and thirty-four seconds later. Changing into a fresh set of clothes took exactly five minutes while combing out the knots in hair took another seven. For us grooming was a slow, methodical process. A ritual.

Unlike most, we were not just representing ourselves; we were the face of the Uchiha clan, hence, it would be dishonourable of us to let our appearance be anything but impeccable.

Exiting our domicile, we stopped by the Naka Shrine to pay our respects. Inside was a Mitamaya bearing a stone tablet engraved with the names of every single one of our lost clansmen. It's been a year since we last performed these rites. From the sleeve of our kimono, we retrieved a Fūinjutsu scroll. Tossing it into the air, we bit the tip of our left thumb before letting our hands flash through a series of hand signs. The falling scroll unfurled as it descended, revealing its blank inner surface over which we painted a few kanji characters with blood. Our chakra churned and the scroll exploded in a cloud of white smoke as the technique took hold, erecting a barrier within the shrine. Immediately, the ANBU at the fringes of our perception disappeared, the barrier isolating us from the outside world.

Thankful for the hard-won reprieve, we knelt before the stone tablet, a lit incense appearing in our right hand as we whispered an orison in honour of the fallen. The prayer lasted only a few minutes after which we rose and made our way towards the seventh tatami mat in the room. We carefully folded it aside and underneath was a perfectly mundane-looking stone tile. We knew better than to be deceived by appearances though. Our hands formed the snake seal, Sharingan whirring into place as we performed the Naka Shrine Pass Technique.

We felt a steady drain on our chakra as Fūinjutsu seals formed on the floor. The floor rumbled as the stone tile rose, revealing itself to in fact be a stone slab about two meters thick. The slab levitated into the air and beneath was a flight of stairs leading beneath the shrine's very foundation. We descended into the darkness, moulding our chakra before attributing elemental fire to its nature. We raised a hand, a small flame appearing in our palm before splitting and shooting towards a pair of torches at the end of the room.

The secret chamber was a small cubicle with a pair of our clan's signature uchiwa[A.N.: fan] painted on the opposite wall. Beneath them was a blank stone tablet. Heeding our summons, our Mangekyō, for the first time in years revealed itself, and under its divine light, the stone tablet's message was illuminated.

"Seeking stability, one god was divided into yin and yang, these opposing two acting together obtain all things in creation…"

Yes, we hissed in the privacy of our mind.

We had waited many, many months. Patiently. In preparation to see what lay in this room. Thankfully, we were not disappointed. Not in the least.

009 - Team Seven

KONOHA

The stone stab descended behind us sealing the stairway to the hidden room. With a smile, we unfolded the tatami mat from earlier, returning it to its original location. We paid our respects one last time, bowing towards the Mitamaya. All things being equal, we would return in a year's time for the next rites.

Our hands flashed through a series of hand signs, dispelling the Fūinjutsu barrier we had erected, and at that moment, the outside world came rushing back into our perception. Our ANBU friend was still there, although he had company now. Two more ANBU had joined him in silent observation of the shrine. This little expedition of ours would have no doubt sent alarm bells ringing throughout Konoha's upper echelon, but it was definitely worth the risk.

We put the ANBU spies out of mind, relegating them to background noise, as we had long grown fond of. Our Chakra churned as we flickered away in the direction of the Mission Assignment building; Kakashi and the rest of our team, no doubt on their way, or already, there as well for our scheduled meeting.

Halfway there though, we perceive a trio of chakra signatures that caught our interest.

"You three, halt!" we said to the unfamiliar shinobis. Our gaze flickered to their headbands. It was engraved with a symbol resembling a lidded hourglass; Sunagakure.

"Yes?" one of the ninjas, a redhead just slightly shorter than we were, grounded out. His voice sounded like gravel being ground together, and hanging across his back was a large clay gourd almost as tall as he was.

"State your business," we instructed the boy. "What is a group of Suna-nin doing in Konoha?"

Of course, we didn't really care what their business was in the village. Or rather, we did care, but only for the sake of being privy to the information itself. Any reason that would justify foreign shinobi being allowed into Konoha was one would prefer to be aware of.

"Weren't you informed?" Our gaze flickered to the girl who had just spoken. She was pretty enough, with teal eyes and sandy blonde hair, which was gathered into four consecutive pigtails. On her shoulder hung a light purple-coloured garment that extended halfway down her thighs; a scarlet sash wrapped around it at her waist.

"We are genin from the Village hidden in the Sand," she said, retrieving from his pouch what we immediately identified as travel papers. The other two also pulled out theirs, flashing it at us. "We are here for the Chūnin exams."

"A week early?" we countered, our eyes flickering from the documents to meet hers.

"Yeah," she said, twirling a lock of her hair with her left index finger. "We thought to go sightseeing for a bit before the exams start. You know, get to know the place … Hey! Maybe… you could show us around? You seem to be the reliable sort."

"Ok," we agreed easily, much to the girl's—Temari, as was on her papers—surprise. "Meet me at Yakiniku Q's BBQ saloon at five-thirty today. I should be free. I am Sasuke by the way. Sasuke Uchiha."

Without waiting for a response, we flickered away. A minute later we arrived at the Mission Assignment Building two minutes late. Naruto and Sakura were already waiting. Kakashi, predictably, was nowhere in sight.

"Ah!" Naruto said, pointing a finger at us, a victorious smirk on his face. "You are late!"

"Sorry," we replied, noncommittal. "I wandered a bit from the path of life."

"Ugh," Orange jumpsuit recoiled in horror and disgust. "They are multiplying!"

"Hi, Sakura," we greeted the girl.

"H-hi! G-good morning, Sasuke. How was your night?"

"Fine, thank you."

"..."

"...Uhm."

"Yes, Sakura?"

"I-I made you dumplings."

"Oh, thank you," we replied, receiving the bento box she extended towards us. We opened it, taking a sniff. It wasn't poisoned. Good.

"Hey! I want dumplings too!"

"Shut up, Naruto!"

"...Here have some."

"I don't want any of your stinky dumplings, loser!"

Sakura smacked the demon container on the back of the head. "I made those, fool!"

Kakashi arrived about seven minutes later. "I have recommended all three of you for the Chūnin exams," the Jōnin told us after he succeeded in settling Naruto and Sakura, the two naturally vexed at his persistent tardiness. "You all have to fill out these applications. If any of you don't wish to compete, the exam is entirely voluntary. You need not turn in those application forms unless you want to. If you do, report to room 301 at the academy by four PM next week Tuesday. That's all. Enjoy your break."

We received one of the sheets of paper and looked it over before turning back to face our Jōnin-sensei. "But, Sensei," we said before the man could disappear again.

"Yes, Sasuke?"

"I want to take this exam," we said, "but you haven't taught me anything in particular since I joined the team. At least I am aware you have been helping Sakura with her Genjutsu and Ninjutsu, and Naruto with his Taijutsu and Chakra control via water-walking. But you haven't taught me anything I haven't already mastered on my own yet."

The Jōnin stilled. "...We'll sort that out at a later time, Sasuke. Just do your best!" came his vague reply, the Jōnin scampering off before we could say anything else. Coward.

010 - In Pleasant Company

KONOHA

We arrived in front of the BBQ saloon at exactly four twenty-nine after midday. Temari and Kankuro were already there, waiting. "Hello again, Temari. Kankuro," We greeted before looking around for the redhead. "Gaara couldn't make it?"

"No," Temari said siding up to us as she tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear.

"He was… busy," Kankuro added. The shinobi took our other flank, essentially boxing us in. Noticing this, we partitioned a section of our attention towards monitoring the duo's chakra. Sure, we were in the centre of the village and the likelihood of us being attacked was negligible, it still wasn't zero. Similarly, we paid their assertions to be Genin no mind. There were no absolutes in the world, nor did we imagine ourself invulnerable—not even in the face of the so-called "junior shinobi".

Gaara's absence was an unfortunate turn of events. It would have been nice to have him around. The bloodlust in his scent was a rather curious thing; thick and heavy which chakra in a manner we had never experienced before. How we would have cherished the opportunity to investigate it in a non-combat scenario. Alas, after today, we doubted we would ever get such an opportunity again

Dispelling these thoughts from our mind, we glanced at the girl. From her posture, and the tension between herself and Kankuro, it was apparent that Temari was the only one eager to be there. It was a fortunate thing that human females found our current appearance attractive. We were well aware of the usefulness of having a pretty face and were always on the lookout for new ways to improve our appearance.

"Have you eaten yet?" we asked Temari, ignoring her brother in favour of speaking with her.

"No." Came her reply, curt in a manner that suggested bashfulness. She reminded us of both Ino and Sakura, both of whom tended to behave in a similar manner whenever we went out with them on trips such as this. Strange things females were. Familiar in an unending myriad of ways, yet all so… varied.

"Well then," we said, turning to face the building in front of us, "since we are already here, why not have some barbeque before we leave?"

"I would like that."

"Kankuro?"

"Sure. Whatever."

As agreed, we had a bit of barbeque before leaving to "sightsee". At the end of the day, even with the associated risks of fraternizing with an unfamiliar group of shinobi, as well as the loss in form of Gaara's absence, we deemed the trip a reasonably significant success. After bidding the duo goodbye we made our way back towards our domicile. As predicted, Temari proved herself our most pleasing companion today. There was so much new information we need to sort and put down in writing.

Oh, how pleasant!

A Week Later.

We arrived at the academy fifteen minutes before four to see our teammates waiting outside for us. "You're late again!" Naruto shouted, jabbing his right index finger in our face. His digits stank of garlic and miso.

"No, I am not," we replied, gently brushing the boy's offensive appendage away. "You are just early. Also, were you eating with your bare hands? They stink."

"...No," Naruto replied, his demeanour so blatantly suspicious it was almost amusing.

"Stop bothering Sasuke, Naruto," Sakura chided. We turned to face her, nodding in lieu of a greeting.

"Good morning, Sasuke," she said. "How was your night?"

"Fine. We're all set, right?" we ask. The duo nodded. "Let go in then."

"Hey!" a voice called behind us. "You're Sasuke, right?"

We paused mid-stride. Turning around, we gave the speaker a once-over. A boy, oddly enough, wearing a light green bodysuit, with orange leg warmers wrapped around his calf stood behind us. His hair was a shiny black bowl-cut, his eye round and crowned with prominent lower eyelashes, and very thick eyebrows giving him a rather… distinct look.

"Yes…" we replied hesitantly, unsure of the reason he sought to speak with us.

"Hi. My name is Rock Lee."

"...Yes?"

"You and me, here and now… Wanna fight?" he said, assuming a stance.

We looked at the Genin, then at the crowd of foreign, unfamiliar shinobi surrounding us, before turning back to face him in askance. "You are asking for a duel? Here?"

"Yes!" Lee replied vigorously. "I have heard much about you from my master! He warned me to be wary of you these coming exams!"

"...And you still wanted to have a duel with me? Here?" we asked, baffled still. Sakura stared at the fellow in confusion. For some reason, Naruto seemed to have taken offence at not being the victim of this unwanted situation. Sadly enough, even that was not unexpected.

"Yes! Your prowess intrigues me! I want to test the effectiveness of my techniques against the infamous…. Uchiha Sasuke. Our battle would be—"

"Oh, shut up!" A brown-haired girl, in a pink sleeveless jacket appeared behind Lee, interrupting him as she dragged him back to the other end of the hallway.

"But! Tenten!"

"Let's go!" she said, cutting him off again. "I am sorry about him," she apologised as she dragged her colleague away by the collar. We watched the bickering duo disappear down the crowded hallway before turning to face the Hyuga boy silently staring at us.

"What?" we asked, and without saying a word, he turned around and left in the direction of his companions.

"Why is everyone acting so weird today?" we mumbled to ourself.

"...I don't know," Sakura replied, still staring at the departing shinobi.

"...Next is Gaara of the Sand. Desert country. Six C-rank missions and two Bs. Wow! Very few rookie shinobi ever get a single B-rank assignment before graduating, much less two. Since he's from the desert, I have less on him… But you want to know what's interesting? He comes back from every mission… Unscathed! Without a scratch!"

We stared at the stack of cards in Kabuto's hand, and for the first time in our life, we experienced a certain stirring in our guts. Greed, we realised.

"Ah!" Kiba smirked folding his arms. "Do Sasuke next!" he demanded.

Our gaze whipped around to face the mutt. "Please don't," we replied. Unlike most of the fools gathered here today, we would rather not have any data regarding us, no matter how irrelevant up for public perusal.

But of course, we were completely ignored, Naruto and Kiba goading Kabuto on. "Uchiha Sasuke," the older shinobi began, "the Evil Flame. Konoha. Twenty-five D-rank missions. Specialisations… Unknown. At age six… he was reported to have singlehandedly murdered a certain Fuu Yamanaka, an ANBU-nin from Konohagakure…"

A weighty pause followed.

"At age six… he was rumoured to have attained mastery of a high-level fire-style Jutsu with which he razed a fifth of the Uchiha district… At age six… he was rumoured to have activated the Uchiha clan's unique Kekkei Genkai… The Sharingan."

The hall had fallen silent, with every pair of eyes in the room turned to face us.

Shit.

INTERLUDE (1)

KONOHA

Six Years Ago.

"...Patriarch?" Inoichi mumbled in wonder as the Uchiha boy exited the room. Frowning, he glanced at the Hokage; the older shinobi's gaze remained fixed on the door that had just shut behind the boy. Hiruzen's shoulders sagged. At that moment, he looked to have aged ten years.

A knock came from beyond the door. The flimsy wooded barrier, absolutely littered with kanji and Fūinjutsu seals, opened as Kotetsu, one of his subordinates from the Intelligence Division, entered.

"Yes?" Inochi asked the Tokubetsu-jōnin.

"The analysis team have compiled their report, Leader-san."

The Yamanaka patriarch received the scroll containing the report, skimming through it as the Tokubetsu-jōnin departed the council. "Any progress with Fuu?" Hiruzen asked. Inoichi shook his head.

"They arrived at the same conclusion I did, Hokage-sama. Whatever technique the boy used was insidious beyond belief. It targets the soul, corroding it, near-absolutely; easily S-rank… Even in this gathering, few would survive being subjected to it."

The room fell silent.

"...I would evaluate the boy an A-rank threat. Deadly, yes, but a glass cannon nonetheless. Given the state he was in when the ANBU arrived, he would be hard-pressed to use the technique more than once in quick succession. Even then, it would be unlikely he survives such a strain on his chakra network."

"That's unlikely to remain true for the foreseeable future," Shimura grounded out, his gravelly voice filling the silence that followed Inoichi's announcement. "The boy has shown potential unsurpassed by any before him. Not even Itachi showed this much promise. His mastery of the fire-style jutsu he used against Fuu would easily rival that of most Jōnin… Hiruzen… The boy must not be allowed to live."

Surprise coloured Inoichi's expression for a split second before it was immediately suppressed. The killing intent with which Danzo spoke those words raised the hackles at the back of the Yamanaka's patriarch's neck.

"Danzo…" the Hokage rumbled, his countenance turning grave. "You speak of the hatred he carries with such trepidation, yet all you've done since is fan the flames. Did you truly believe Konohagakure would have gone unscathed if you succeeded in murdering the boy? ... You subvert my authority time and time again. It seems I have been too lax with you You will resign from your post as councilman today. Sasuke is to remain untouched; all information on this matter is now classified up to S-rank."

Inoichi could no longer suppress his surprise. Neither could any of his fellow council members. 'It seems there's more to this matter than meets the eye,' the Yamanaka patriarch realised, his expression turning grave.

A Week Ago.

Sarutobi inhaled deeply, the smoke from his pipe filling his lungs. "Now then," he said, putting the pipe aside, "I'd like to hear first from those who have overseen the training of our newest junior ninja. Masters Kakashi, Kurenai and Asuma, tell me, do any of you have, among your charges, any genin you would recommend for this year's Chūnin exams?"

Sarutobi took another lungful of tobacco before continuing. "Remember, before I consider them, they must have completed a minimum of eight missions. Beyond that, I would urge you to employ your own judgement as to whether or not they are fit to attempt the exams. To be truly competitive, candidates should have completed at least double the recommended number of missions, and have shown maturity and competence befitting of a shinobi of their status … Kurenai, you may begin."

"Yes, Hokage-sama," the red-eyed woman replied. "I recommend my charge, cell number eight consisting of Hyuga Hinata, Izunuka Kiba and Aburame Shino. I believe these three are ready to attempt this year's Journeymen Exams."

Sarutobi nodded, his gaze panning towards Asuma. "Asuma?"

"Yes, Hokage-sama. I recommend my charge, cell number ten consisting of Yamanaka Ino, Akimichi Choji and Nara Shikamaru. I believe these three are also ready to attempt this year's Journeymen Exams."

"Kakashi?"

"I recommend cell number seven consisting of Uzumaki Naruto, Haruno Sakura and Uchiha Sasuke. As with my colleagues, I also believe these three are ready to attempt this year's Chūnin Exams, Hokage-sama."

Sarutobi paused, shooting a glance at the silver-haired shinobi. "...How unusual of you three to have unhesitantly assented. Especially you Kakashi. I have my doubts as to whether Team Seven, in its entirety, is truly capable of undergoing this hurdle… Are you certain your response did not stem from bias in light of a certain Genin's… outstanding brilliance? Certainly, they are all bright and have shown both commitment and talent… But isn't it too soon for Naruto and Sakura to take these exams?"

"...I understand your hesitation, Hokage-sama," Kakashi began, "and in a way, I share them as well. But still, I believe this is the right choice. For their sakes… and Sasuke's too."

"It's a harsh and unforgiving test, Kakashi. You might be rushing them into it. Only with time will they have the experience and maturity required for this."

"I understand, Hokage-sama, but I remain adamant... I believe in them; what my kids lack in experience they more than make up for in surprise."

"...Have it your way, then. But remember, I would be holding you accountable for whatever comes of this."

"I understand, Hokage-sama."

Orochimaru knelt by one of the corpses by his feet. He liked this one; its face was soft and feminine with just the right amount of edge to give off a predatory vibe. Its body was tall and lean, packed with dense musculature that hinted towards the masculine nature of its identity. It was perfect.

With his vanity sated, the sanin called upon his chakra. His hands formed the Snake seal; then Dog and Monkey, both distilling copying and transformation natures respectively into the technique. Dragon followed after, to facilitate the merging of identities, with Rat ending the technique.

"Shōshagan no Jutsu," he mumbled. Vanishing facial copy jutsu. Orochimaru felt his chakra drain into the palm of his right hand as the technique took hold. With a smile he reached out for the corpse's face, caressing it as his chakra mythically peeled it away, leaving behind a featureless head. He placed the skin mask on his face, inhaling as it bound to his skin.

His hand came away, falling to his side. He smiled, then frowned, testing the disguise before directing his attention towards his figure. His chakra churned again, his body morphing to mimic the form of the corpse by his feet as he executed Henge no Jutsu. The two techniques worked together in tandem, perfecting themselves until his transformation became flawless.

Orochimaru glanced at the men who stood by his side. Being reasonably competent, his two subordinates had also performed the technique flawlessly. It was a small testament to their skill as shinobi as the Jutsu was one that required a level of chakra control most Shinobi would be hard-pressed to possess.

Glancing back at the corpse of the Kusa-nin by his feet, the snake-sanin reached into its garments. His search was quickly rewarded as his hands came away, holding a bundle of papers. Travel documents and a recommendation granting permission to partake in this year's Chūnin exams. With a smile, Orochimaru tucked the papers away in the folds of his clothing before forming a one-handed seal and flickering away from the scene, his accomplices in tow.

Orochimaru arrived, undetected, at the academy minutes later. There he waited under the shade of a tree.

His patience was rewarded a few minutes later as a figure flickered into view.

"...Sasuke. Uchiha," the snake-sanin exhaled, unable to contain himself. The boy was everything he expected and more. A simple, dark-blue kimono hung from his shoulders, concealing the silk mesh, forearm guards and other shinobi accessories he wore underneath. The garment was embroidered with the image of an uchiwa on the back and high-collared in the manner the Uchiha were so fond of. His long, silken mane hung loosely from his head, dancing hypnotically every once in a while in the afternoon breeze. On his feet were a pair of Getas, the sagely, wooden footwear raising his height by an extra inch.

His face and his body were very beautiful and set into hard lines that belied a maturity far beyond that of his peers.

"...Yes," Orochimaru breathed again. "He would make the perfect vessel to succeed me…"

011 - The Exams {PT. I}

KONOHA

Present Day.

"Sorry to have kept you waiting!" boomed the voice of one of the newcomers. We turned around to the sight of a group of shinobis gathered behind us, the tell-tale signs of swirling chakra manifesting as a cloud of white smoke around them.

"My name is Morino Ibiki," the leader of the group continued. We glanced at his scarred face, and for a brief moment caught his gaze fixed upon of form. Hmm? "I am the chief examiner and proctor for the first part of this exam. Before we start I would like to lay a few ground rules. From this point onward, there would be no fighting without the express permission of an examining officer. Even if that permission is granted, anything that endangers another applicant's life unnecessarily is strictly forbidden. Any of you little piglets who break these rules would be immediately disqualified. No second chances. Got that?"

The hall remained silent, but we could feel the atmosphere in the room take on a disdainful flavour. Sneers formed on the faces of many of the shinobi gathered upon hearing this. "...So this is a test for little girly men?" whispered one particularly gutsy Otogakure fellow. Ibiki's gaze flickered towards him but the older shinobi remained silent.

"You've all been given a tag," the scarred proctor continued. "Each tag is numbered and corresponds to your respective seats in this hall. I need not tell you what needs to be done. You have five minutes."

We glared one last time at Kabuto and Kiba before reaching into our obi for our tag. The next moment our gaze panned across the room in search of seat ninety-seven. There! on the fifth row, seventeenth column.

"Uhm…" Naruto began. We glanced at the boy, before shaking our head in mimicry of the human expression most appropriate for this situation. Exasperation. We weren't even surprised. In a way, one could say we expected this.

"He means the number on your tag corresponds to the number on your seat in the hall," we tell the blonde, predicting his question. We glanced at his tag before immediately looking towards the rows of seats in the hall. "There," we said, "Seat number fifty-seven."

"I knew that!" Naruto lied before immediately scampering off towards his seat. "Good luck, Sakura!" he shouted as he left. The girl ignored him as she turned to regard us.

"Good luck," she mumbled, fidgeting.

"You too, Sakura," we replied as we made our way towards our seat.

We sat down, eyes flickering towards each proctor in our field of vision. The examiners were scattered about the room. In our perception, we could sense a few more in hiding. All were Jōnin. Even for us, cheating during this exam could very well be impossible.

We glanced at the two flanking us. To our left was a girl with red hair and glasses. The headband on her forehead bore the jagged engraving signature to Shinobi from Kusagakure. Her gaze kept flickering towards us, a faint blush staining her face. We ignored her, our attention flickering towards the Hyuga girl on our right. We knew her. It was hard not to given we were classmates for six years. As usual, her gaze was fixated on the orange-clad figure seated ahead of us. We never really understood her fixation with Naruto. It was strange. It confused us. We disliked being confused.

A Tokubetsu jōnin flickered by and three sheets of paper floated down unto the table in front of us.

"Keep your papers down until I signal the start of the exam," Ibiki instructed from the front of the hall. "Now listen up," he continued, "there are a few big rules that pertain to this first test. I will write them on the blackboard and explain them all. I will not be taking any questions, and I will only be saying this once, so pay attention!

"Rule number one! Each of you starts out with thirty points. The test has thirty questions, each worth one point. For each question you get wrong, we subtract one point. Rule number two! This written test is still a team event. Passing or failing will be determined by the sum of the points held by all three members of each cell. The object for each cell is to have as few deductions as possible from its joint ninety-point total.

"Rule number three, if, during the course of the exam, a candidate does anything out of the ordinary, in other words, anything that leads the proctors to determine that he or she has cheated, we'll subtract two points from each member of the cheater's cell. Rule number four, if any individual loses more than half of their total points, that person's entire cell, regardless of how well the others do… would be disqualified.

"And finally, rule number five. Only the top twenty-five of the teams gathered today would pass. Regardless of how well the other teams perform, they would all be disqualified. You have an hour to complete the test. You may begin."

012 - The Exams {PT. II}

KONOHA

"...Question number fifteen. A shinobi, elevated on the bough of a tree, throws a steel kunai weighing 67.1 grams at an enemy 113 meters away on ground level. It is known that the velocity of the kunai at the point of launch is 89.408m/s, the air resistance acting on the kunai is 14.7N, and the elevation to the target is 8.37 meters. If the force of gravity on a body of mass 1gm in a similar state equals 1.4N, calculate; the force of gravity acting on the kunai, the acceleration vector of the kunai in motion, and the final velocity upon impact."

We looked up at the chief examiner, Ibiki, who stood stoically at the front of the hall before glancing back at the questions on the table in front of us. There was no way Naruto could solve any of these questions. We glanced at the boy. Sure enough, he stared at his script with the paleness of a man on death row.

Shaken, horrified, the demon container curled into himself, clutching his bright orange hair, his face bearing an expression of utter despair. We shook our head internally. We could not allow his inaptitude to constitute a barrier to our progress. We could not fail this exam.

With about one-eight of the stealthiness and fluidity we were capable of, our hands flashed, forming a modified Ox, then Dragon, seal. As we executed the technique, a subtle but concentrated burst of chakra shot out of our glabella towards Naruto. Of course, as predicted, the boy's potent chakra naturally resisted the invasion of our essence. But with a deftness that spoke of experience and months of diligent practice, we bypassed the resistance, slithering up his chakra network into his brain to stimulate his hypothalamus. The next moment, our teammate yawned, muttering some words lightly under his breath before immediately falling asleep.

A few examiners and examinees glanced at the boy snoring loudly as he lay sprawled over his table, their expressions turning strange at the sight. Experiencing a bout of genuine exasperation, we guided our chakra towards his respiratory system to ease his nasal canal. He relax and only then did the snoring stop.

Satisfied and assured that our scores wouldn't be compromised should Naruto attempt to cheat, or worse, be intentionally implicated by another team, we turned our attention towards Sakura. Of course, we expected the girl to have little problems with the exam itself. Despite her tendency to play the role of a love-stricken ditz, she could be quite reliable if given enough motivation.

Although, currently, she was rather preoccupied with glaring at Naruto. Distracted. Not contributing positively to our collective scoreboard. We suppress the urge of our human ego to get annoyed. Instead, we executed the hand seals for Honshitsu Kisei no Jutsu again. Essence Parasitism Technique. Another pulse of concentrated Chakra shot out of our glabella towards Sakura. Unlike Naruto, the girl's resistance to the technique was seemingly nonexistent. Our Chakra effortlessly slithered up her Chakra network, dispersing itself with her. Our essence sublimed away, hardening her against most Genjutsu techniques after placing her under a Genjutsu of our own that compelled her to subconsciously ignore our blonde teammate and protect her answers from espionage.

Seeing the pink-haired girl hunch closer over her work in a childish bid to hide it from view we sighed before turning our attention back towards the proctors. Four points. We had already lost four points. Sakura and Naruto possibly lost two each for being our "accomplices". Naturally, our Jōnin supervisors would have noticed our chakra expenditure. We considered Sakura for a moment before shaking our heading internally. It wasn't worth it to lose another two points just to ingrain in her subconscious the necessary skills to protect herself from copycats. Instead, we turned our attention towards the rest of the examinees.

In a span of three breaths, we had sorted out all our potential targets. All Genin from Konohagakure were excluded. Same as all non-native genin we had had friendly relations with. This decision was not born of us developing a sentimental attitude towards these individuals. Rather, we did this solely to present the guise of being sentimental whilst under the scrutiny of so many of Konoha's elite shinobi. Ignoring the low-hanging fruits that were the inexperienced Konoha Genins was in our opinion a very, very minuscule price to pay in light of our more… long-term ambitions.

Despite this decision, we still had a very large pool of targets to deal with. They were organised into their respective cells; the more competent members of each team we sieved out. All that was left were the weak links. These were all we needed. After all, Ibiki did clarify that the exam was a team effort. Should a single member be disqualified for, say cheating, the entire team would be disqualified.

Our chakra churned. One proctor's head swivelled to regard us. Six points. The loss was negligible in light of what we aimed to achieve. Our hands flickered, nine hand signs forming in quick succession. Reverse Rat suppressed our chakra signature at the cost of efficiency. Modified Tiger-Ox amplify it at the cost of even more efficiency. Dog, Snake and Monkey followed in quick succession, the first two facilitating chakra transformation with the third copying the targets' chakra signature. Dragon merged attributes into a facsimile of the original. Modified Ox and Hare to suppress evil intent, and finally Ram, to execute.

"Multi-essence Parasitism Technique!"

A cord of chakra slowly slithered out of our glabella, gliding like an ethereal serpent towards our first target, a boy from Otogakure seated directly in front of us. After extending about a meter out of our head the cord stopped then began writhing and splitting at the tip like some tortured creature. Then, suddenly, it branched out, shooting menacingly towards our over four dozen targets. The branches latched onto the unfortunate Genin, breaking off from the original as they melted away into their bodies.

Eight points.

Our attention returned to our sleeping teammate. Now came the riskiest part of our plan. Ibiki's attention swivelled to fully focus on us as our hands formed the Jutsu-specific hand sign for performing the Yamanaka clan's hidden technique. The same technique that a certain Fuu Yamanaka attempted to assassinate us with.

Shintenshin no Jutsu.

The Mind-Body Switch Technique.

The feeling of a portion of our soul being disembodied as it left our physical vessel in the form of spiritual energy was a strange one. The Hidden Jutsu had a different effect on us compared to other users. Given the nature of our soul, it was theoretically impossible for the technique to contain the amount of Chakra needed to move it in its entirety. It wasn't even fully manifested in reality, our fleshy shell wholly incapable of housing it.

Ten points.

Unlike with the speed with which our deceased assailant executed the Jutsu, our chakra moved sluggishly, straining under the weight of its burden. We stared ahead, not sparing the scarred Jōnin a glance as the technique acquired its target. With a heady rush, we felt our ego invade Naruto's mindscape, our eyes panning around to take in the familiar scenery. A filthy sewer, representing the continual corruption of the boy's Chakra pool by the demon he played host to, laid beneath our feet. At the other end from us was a great ornate gate. A glided cage one might say, with inlays of gold and black jade. Inside, hiding in the shadows of the farthest corner, sat a great orange fox restrained by golden chains. It glared at us with eyes alight with hate, malice…

And fear.

To imagine we once let ourself be frightened by such a pitiful creature… how undignified.

We ignored the fox, letting our chakra permeate the boy's own. Naruto's eyes opened and we stared at the outside world through them. On the table in front of us, his exam papers were covered in drool. We ignored the other Genin in the hall, some of whom suddenly, inexplicably, lost control of their chakra as they attempted to cheat through the exam. They were disqualified of course, and very quickly the hall grew bereft of competitors. On the other hand, we seemed to be doing alright. We cancelled the Hidden Jutsu, our mind snapping back in place as we returned to our body.

Twelve points.

Naruto awoke moments later. He looked around in confusion before looking down at his now-completed exam papers. The body stared at it befuddled for a few moments before shrugging seemingly in acceptance and moving on. With a sigh, we looked down at our exam sheet. Empty without a single character written on it. We glanced at the wall clock hung behind Ibiki at the front of the class. Just fifteen minutes had passed since the start of the exam.

Well, at least, we still had time.

013 - The Exams {PT. III}

KONOHA

"...Uchiha Sasuke." Ibiki stared at the black-haired boy, his gaze squinted in an expression of solemn contemplation. When he made the decision to conduct the exam in the manner in which he did, the scarred proctor had considered the possibility of certain over-specialised Genins abusing the loopholes that were intentionally introduced into the examining structure. That was to be expected of course. Life wasn't in any way fair; the next generation of elite shinobi shouldn't be coddled into believing it was.

However, what Ibiki had failed to consider was the apparent ease with which some might exploit this very system. In hindsight, it was not so hard to believe that on his lonesome, using two possibly original techniques unknown to the shinobi world prior, the infamous Genin would plot the elimination of fourteen opposing cells. And counting.

Once was happenstance; twice, coincidence, probably; three times, definitely enemy action. After the eighth cell fell to his scheme, the majority of the rest of the examinees had already caught on to the Evil Flame's insidious plot. Although the majority still failed to ascertain the true origins of the assault, a pattern had already been established. The targets were visible for all to see. A few lucky ones, upon discovering the target painted on their backs, managed to dispel the hex before it implicated them. The rest could only sit in trepidation of being the next to fall victim.

Attempts were made to complete the exams honestly but with little success. Being able to answer the questions without cheating would defeat the aim of the test after all. They were meant to cheat their way out of the test. Yet, with one move, the Uchiha boy stole their only option away from them, effectively stranding them between Yomi and the First Asura.

To cheat, or not to cheat? This was the question of the day.

Defanged, frustrated and left without options a few Genin reacted rather… explosively, choosing to resort to senseless violence in the face of despair. They demanded the culprit behind their hopeless straits face them. Fight them. The fools. Insults were hurled and masculinities were challenged to no avail. Sasuke stared at the rabid characters impassively. Their words seemingly had no effect on him.

A few Jōnin rose to settle the crowd. The examinees' reactions were understandable of course, but not one that would be tolerated.

The first scapegoats served as a warning to the rest who would think of doing the same. Another team was disqualified as one of its members had predictably been caught trying to defy the odds. A heroic effort, true, but a foolish one nonetheless. The gloom in the air deepened. An aura of despair and misery loomed over the forms of dozens of examinees like an excluded ghost. Haunting.

Ibiki glanced at the cause of all this anguish. The Uchiha boy sat silently in his seat appearing to be the textbook definition of innocence. The chief examiner's gaze narrowed as the Uchiha's onyx eyes flickered to meet his. One of the boy's sculpted brows rose in a questioning manner., as if to say…

…What?

Ibiki sighed to himself as he broke eye contact. "Inoichi would be so pissed to hear that that fool allowed a six-year-old to copy a Hidden Jutsu during what was supposed to be a simple assassination mission. Evil Flame or not, that was still a very disgraceful showing, Fuu Yamanaka."

"Time's up!" Ibiki growled, eager to end the farce that this exam had become. A few voices arose in complaint but they were quickly ignored. The papers were collected and the scores were soon collated. With a sigh and begrudging glare shot towards the Uchiha, the scarred proctor announced the results.

Predictably, we easily managed to keep our team's scores within the top twenty per cent despite suffering a twelve-point penalty ourself. Though our methods of accomplishing this came with some downsides.

For one, we had inadvertently confirmed possessing the Yamanaka clan's hidden Jutsu. This little tidbit of information might very well transform the entire dynamics of the relationship that existed between us and the village's upper echelon. The true extent of this change remains to be seen though. Either way, good or bad, we weren't really concerned. There were only so many ways the village could escalate without violating the unspoken truce that has existed between us since that last incident involving Fuu. They were at the moment, toothless.

Harmless.

Unsurprisingly, it was Naruto who proved to be the true nuisance. The blonde was elated to find out we scored the lowest in the team. He adamantly refused to let us hear the end of it, reiterating, time and time again how we were dragging the entire team down and how much better a shinobi he was. We quickly tuned him out, our attention focusing on the proctor that had replaced Ibiki in front of the hall.

"My name is—" *cough* "Hayate Gekko," said the Tokubetsu Jōnin, his words interspersed by dry, heaving coughs. "I—" *cough* "am the chief—" *cough* "examination officer for—" *cough**cough* "your second exam. Please—" *cough* "Follow me."

The sign in front of our next exam venue read "Training Ground Zero-Nine". We arrived at the outskirt of a fenced forest about fifteen minutes after we departed from the academy. The wire fence that surrounded the forest towered exactly fifteen meters above us, its surface dotted intermittently with Fūinjutsu tags, that at a glance, were meant to keep whatever was inside sealed rather than prevent entry. A few plastic signs were hung on the gate to the forest. "No Trespassing!" one read. "DANGER!" read another. Multiple padlocks and loops of metal chains held the gates shut with even more Fūinjutsu tags stuck on to ensure the barrier was impervious to attacks of a more mystical nature.

*cough*

Our attention flickered back towards the chief examiner. "This is the ninth Battle Training Zone," the man began as he coughed into his curled fist, " also known—" *cough* "as Asura's Garden. It is Konohagakure's—" *cough* "sixth largest and most dangerous training ground." *cough* "Your objective for this—" *cough* "exam is a simple—" *cough* "King of the Hill. Each team—" *cough* "will be given a scroll containing—" *cough* "the details of the assignment. But—" *cough* "but before that. You will have to—" *cough* "sign these."

The Jōnin waved a stack of papers at us. Written boldly on the front of one of said papers were the words "CONSENT FORM" in large blocky fonts.

*cough*

"You all will need to sign before you can go in—" *cough* "And yes, it is important. Konoha should not—" *cough* "be held responsible for any of—" *cough* "your unfortunate—" *cough* "deaths after all."

The papers were distributed. Our eyes skimmed over the words on the page in our hands, before we pulled our Fūinjutsu ink brush from the folds of our kimono. Placing the bristled tip in our mouth, we sucked on it, coating it in chakra-infused saliva before using the now non-inert brush to sign our name at the back of the form. Shooting a glance at our teammates still engrossed in reading their forms, we submitted ours and awaited further instructions. Five minutes later the rest of the examinees submitted their forms and Gekko returned to address us.

"I will be giving—" *cough* "an overview—" *cough* "of your next assignment so pay close attention. There are twenty-five teams who will—" *cough* "be competing in this "King of the Hill" assignment. There are eight locations representing the target "castles"—" *cough* "scattered throughout the forest. Your mission is simple." *cough*. "Using the information in your scrolls, locate and secure the "castles" for the duration of the exam. Each team possessing control of a castle at the end of the exam"—" *cough* "would be deemed a "king" and would qualify to move on to participate in the exam preliminaries." *cough* *cough*

"This exam will hold for a duration of one hundred and sixty-eight hours. A week." *cough* "As for the rules of this exam; rule number one—" *cough* "Any team not in possession of a castle at the end of the exam is disqualified." *cough* "Rule number two, Any team that loses a member, either to severe injury or death, is disqualified." *cough* "Rule number three, losing possession of your mission scroll results in an automatic disqualification should you fail to retrieve it before the end of the exam. And finally—" *cough* "Rule number four, under no circumstances can you leave the forest before the exam concludes. Doing so would result in an immediate disqualification"

The Jōnin's sleepy gaze panned around as if for the first time he acknowledged the presence of the participants present. He coughed another one of those dry heaving coughs of his before exhaling, an aura of conclusion settling on his shoulders.

"When you've received the scroll containing your mission details, choose the gate you wish to begin from. You have fifteen minutes till the start of the exams."

*cough*

"Good luck."

014 - Phase Two {PT. I}

KONOHA

The massive trunks and boughs of the trees that made up the forest blurred past as we navigated our way north. On our heels were Naruto and Sakura, the two lagging behind despite our already significantly reduced speed. At such a sedated pace we might not get to our destination before sunset. The mere thought was irritating.

"Oi!" the blonde shouted from behind us, utterly obliterating our efforts to remain stealthy. "Sasuke! Slow down!"

We did, but not without turning around to shoot the boy a stern glare. "Be quiet would you," we told him. "You are making a racket."

"I AM NOT!"

"Yes, you are, Naruto. And if you don't stop you will alert everyone within a mile of here to our presence."

"I AM NOT! AND YOU NEED TO SLOW—" We flickered behind him, placing our open palm on his back. Chakra surged out from our guts, invading his meridian system with practised ease. The demon fox within him instinctively tried to push back against our intrusion, but as usual, smothering it with the mere weight of our attention was all it took to make it behave. Naruto's eyelids grew heavy before suddenly shutting close as he fell asleep. His body however continued to fly towards a tree in front, carried forth by his forward momentum. But before he could collide with the obstacle we pulled on the scruff of his jumpsuit, dragging him aside before tossing his limp body over our left shoulder.

We shot a glance at Sakura. The girl blinked suddenly realising we were no longer in front of her. She stopped, her head whipping about, seemingly in search of us. "N-naruto, Sasuke's gone—" We stared at her panting form, one brow raised inquisitively. She stared back slack-jawed.

"You both need to work on your stamina," we told her before leaping forward again. It took another second for her brain to catch up, but when it did, like the good pet she was maturing to be, she quickly made to follow after us.

"Sasuke," she panted. "Naruto had a point. Please. S-slow down…"

We sighed, stalling for a moment to allow her to catch up. When she did, we dialled our pace back a bit more to something she should be more comfortable with before continuing forth.

"...Uhm, S-sasuke," she called, "what happened to Naruto?"

"Nothing," we replied. "I just put him to sleep."

"Oh. Oh…"

We glanced at her before turning back towards the forest ahead. Her face was flushed for some reason. "Sakura."

"...Yes?" came a whispered reply.

"I will need you to work with me," we tell her. "Is that ok?"

"Yes!"

"Good," we tell her as we pulled out the mission scroll from the pouch by our thigh. "According to this," we continued, tossing the scroll at the girl. She fumbled to catch it, only succeeding at the last moment before it escaped her grasp. "The location of one of the castles is just fifty-two miles due north. At the pace at which we are going, we can only get there in about two and a half hours; and given the time now is six twenty-three it should be nightfall by the time we arrive. Since it doesn't seem possible for us to go any faster, I would like us to maintain our current pace. That said, I would also like that we do not give away our position unnecessarily like this fool here just did. Can you help with this, Sakura?"

"Ai!" The girl replied, falling silent for a few moments as she skimmed through the mission scroll before making a small noise, seemingly confused. "But there is nothing here about the location of any of the castles," she said, "only details regarding the first clue to find them. I thought this was supposed to be some sort of treasure-hunt-esque assignment where we find clue after clue till we discover the location of the castles."

"Oh, it is," we tell her. "I am sure that if we vigorously investigate the lead mentioned in the scroll we would eventually find one of the castles. But why do that when we've already been given the answer to the problem?"

"You mean—"

"Yes. The instruction for finding the first clue is a steganographic message embedded in the third, sixth and seventh paragraphs. The first line written in the scroll is the key to deciphering it. It's a rather easy cypher; you only have to look to find it."

Our conversation lulled into a relaxing silence for about a minute as Sakura slowly dug out the hidden message in the script. "...These are coordinates," she breathed in amazed realisation, quickly pulling out a map from her pouch to confirm what we already knew.

Her gaze whipped over to regard us, full of worship and wonder. "How did you know?" she asked.

"Shinobi read the hidden meanings within the hidden meanings. Always," we reply vaguely.

"That's Kakashi-sensei's line… You found it so easily. You are amazing, Sasuke."

We smiled at her as was appropriate for the situation before returning our gaze forward. Human emotions still sometimes did get tiring to keep up with. Thankfully, the rest of the trip continued in blissful silence. By the time we arrived at our destination, the moon had already begun its ascent into the night sky. Naruto remained unconscious as we laid him down in his sleeping bag.

Our camp was a rather simple one. Rather than set up tents that would be hard to conceal, we simply found a patch of flat earth underneath a fallen log that was just large enough to house all three of us and occupied it. A light application of mud wall jutsu was used to seal one end, while head hunter jutsu was used to create a booby-trapped escape tunnel to a concealed exit point about a hundred meters away. Camouflage netting was used to break up the camp's silhouette, further concealing it in the forest foliage.

Satisfied, we shot a glance at Sakura who knelt on her sleeping bag as she stared intently at us. The girl sat stock still, appearing expectant. Seemingly awaiting instructions perhaps? At least we thought so until we heard the dull thumping of her erratic heartbeat. The girl's face flushed red and she immediately looked away when we made eye contact.

Hormones, we realised with some sympathy. Even we found our body's propensity to begin spontaneously making decisions of its own annoying. The girl's inhibitions and almost nonexistent grasp on her emotions must have faded away with the lack of restrictions our current scenario spawned. The feeling ought to be maddening. The poor thing.

"...Uhm—"

"Secure the perimeter," we said, interrupting her. "I will go have a look around to make sure we weren't tracked before surveying the "castle"." Hearing this, her shoulders slumped in disappointment. We ruffled her pink hair in passing as we exited the shelter.

"I am leaving Naruto in your care because I trust you, Sakura," we lied, noticing as she immediately perked up at that. "Please take care of him. And yourself too. I will be back soon."

Without waiting for a reply we flickered away, travelling up into the forest canopy as we made our way towards the castle. Upon arrival, we looked around taking in the sight. Our target hung from a massive tree bough in front of us. A small treehouse hidden amongst the leaves. Our castle. But, at the moment it was not our objective. We turned around to directly face our tail.

"Come out," we said. "I know you are there … You are Shiore, right? I am curious as to why you and your buddies chose my team out of everyone to tail. You've been on our tracks for nearly three hours now. Does my team truly look so weak and defenceless as to be worth the investment?

The bark on one of the trees shimmered as a young woman phased out of it. Two other Kusagakure shinobi appeared out of the foliage behind her. "Sasuke..." she purred, calling out our name with a dramatic, hissing lilt. "It's so nice to finally get to meet you. You probably cannot understand how happy I am to see you. I am a big fan of yours, you see."

"What do you want?" we drawled, entirely uninterested in engaging in senseless banter with another weird human. We've had our fill for the day it seems.

The kunoichi smiled, her tongue lopping out to lick the bottom half of her face. Her gaze turned predatory, glinting with a fierce light. "I want you…

"Sasuke-kun."

015 - Phase Two {PT. II}

KONOHA

"He is perfect," came the thought, unbidden, in the Sannin's mind. The boy sat on a tree bough, legs crossed at the ankles as they dangled freely in the air beneath him. Relaxed. Silken black hair rippled with a mild gust of air travelling through the forest canopy. The immaculately cared-for mane briefly concealed the left side of his face before receding, exposing his half-lidded onyx gaze once more.

"...You want me?" the Uchiha asked, raising one sculpted brow inquisitively. "I want to assume you meant that in an entirely non-sexual way, but your tone leads me to believe otherwise."

"Ha!" he even has a sense of humour, much unlike that daemonic brother of his. Orochimaru liked him even more now. He smiled in a purposefully misleading manner, but the boy's gaze belied nothing. Cold and emotionless, with all the compassion of a veritable force of nature.

"I take you have no interest in this humble castle of mine," he said gesturing towards the little hut behind him.

Orochimaru smiled. "What makes you think that, Sasuke-kun?"

"None have you made any attempts to neutralise my teammates, or at least hold them hostage, yet. You don't seem fools; had the hut been your target, I doubt you would have left them unmolested."

"...You don't seem like you want to win either," the snake sannin replied. "Leaving weak links defenceless like that is an easy way to get eliminated you know."

The boy shook his head. "Had you gone for them you would be dead already," he declared with all the intensity of one commenting about the weather.

Orochimaru's smile widened.

"Beating about the bush like this gets tiring," Sasuke continued, brushing a strand of hair behind his right ear. "You want something, speak; if I deem it worth my time we might as well come to an agreement quickly. If not, I would rather dispose of you lot before you prove yourself a nuisance."

"He is so perfect."

"Very well then, but courtesy demands a proper introduction, does it not?" Orochimaru replied reaching for the skin mask on his face. Slowly, he ripped the disguise off, his fingers digging furrows through the mask. Sasuke watched, his left brow quirked in an expression of blatant curiosity. The snake sannin tossed aside the disguise, letting it fall to the forest floor as he shook his equally lustrous mane loose.

The Uchiha murmured something under his breath, recognition flickering in his gaze as he reached into the pouch by his waist. He pulled out a bingo book the next moment, flipping through it with practised ease.

"Orochimaru," he drawled, expressionless. "Hmm… I wonder what an S-rank missing-nin from Konohagakure wants from little old me."

The Sannin giggled with a hissing lilt.

"Perfect."

Sakura bit her lip as she heard a pair of footsteps thud on the forest floor outside. Her heartbeat spiked. She reached for a kunai in her pouch, holding it in a reverse grip as she placed herself between the still-unconscious Naruto and the entrance.

"It's me Sakura," came Sasuke's voice from outside the shelter. Subconsciously she relaxed upon hearing his voice. The next moment, however, her heartbeat spiked again, her face flushing red as her mind fully registered that her beloved had returned. "Come outside,' he called, his tone silken as it always was.

"I-I am coming," she replied, her bones seemingly going soft as she rose to her feet. She crawled out of the shelter and something whizzed past the side of her face, striking the fallen tree trunk behind her with a dull thud. Her head whipped around towards the object and her eyes widened as she realised it was a kunai.

Attached to the hilt was an explosive tag, one end already lit and primed to go off.

Her heart dropped and her face grew pale in terror. At that moment, she saw her entire life flash before her eyes. A soft hand came to rest on her shoulder, freeing her of the Genjutsu.

"So careless," whispered that sweet countertenor voice of his. Sakura swivelled on the sole of her feet, glancing upward to meet the taller boy's stern gaze. Sasuke reached for her chin. She shivered as she felt his thumb caress the side of her cheek. The finger came away bloody and only then did she notice she suffered a cut on the side of her face.

He hurt me, she realised. He must be very angry with me.

"Heal it," Sasuke ordered. She shivered, a fuzziness budding in her chest as she brought her palm to her cheek. Her fingers glowed a light green as she traced it over the cut, closing it.

Sasuke's expressionless gaze remained fixed on her as he pulled at the skin. "You are still wasting too much chakra," he said. "You are not practising enough."

"...I am sorry," Sakura whispered. She caught herself before she could subconsciously lean into his palm. It was so soft. To her displeasure, the hand came away.

"Naruto is still asleep?" he asked conversationally. He probably already knew the answer and just was trying to make small talk. That was just how things were; he always knew things even when there was no possible explanation why he knew those things. She didn't mind though. Just another thing to love about him.

"Yes," Sakura replied. "T-the castle?"

"It's secure."

"...What do we do now?"

"We wait." Saying that Sasuke retreated into their shelter. Her eyes tracked him as he left, unblinking. Sakura was not sure, but he seemed to be in a good mood. One never could tell with him.

Hopefully, he was. He might let her cuddle with him again if he was.

That would make today just perfect.

016 - Phase Two {PT. III}

KONOHA

Shikamaru grew uneasy as he stopped underneath one particularly large tree. He didn't know why, he just did.

"Is it here?" Ino whispered to him, crouching by his side. He glanced at the map in his hand before confirming with the hidden message he found in their mission scroll. "I hope so," he replied. "It would be such a drag if we came all this way and my hunch ended up being a dud."

"It better not," the fatso, Choji, said, his cheeks bloated as he chewed on a few handfuls of chips. "The first clue is a three-hour hike west from here. If this isn't one of the castles we probably would not be able to catch up with the other teams."

"We'll be fine," said Ino, ever the optimist. Shikamaru didn't share her enthusiasm though. Being who he was, the consequences of them failing here remained at the forefront of his mind. Ino leapt forward, he and Choji fast on her heels as they scaled the tree. It wasn't long until they found their target; a tiny treehouse hanging underneath a rather large bough.

"We found it!" Ino exclaimed, pumping her fist in celebration. "Ok, here's the plan. Once we are done surveying this area we will—"

*tuk* *tuk* *tuk* *tuk* *tuk*

A rain of senbon needles perforated the branch on which they stood just moments ago.

"Hehe! It's as you suspected, leader-san. These twerps were indeed up to something!"

Shikamaru caught himself on a nearby tree, skidding to a stop as he turned to face the attackers. Three Ame-nin materialised out of the forest brush. They wore black skinsuits underneath elaborate raincoats; two of the three shinobis had oddly shaped, wide-brimmed hats on their heads and pressurised tanks strapped over their shoulders. All three had multiple umbrellas strapped to their backs. Shikamaru would have found the sight comical had he not been so frightened by their sudden appearance.

"I still can't believe they led us right to one of the castles," said the shortest of the bunch. "To think passing this year's chunin exams would be so easy!"

Shikamaru glanced at his team. Nobody was hurt so far, but he couldn't guarantee things would remain so shortly. They were obviously outclassed. They needed to retreat. Immediately.

"...So, running away seems like a good plan, no?" Choji whispered, furiously chewing away at his chips. "If we fight these guys we're going to get creamed… We can try to find another team. A weaker one. If we can beat them and take their mission scroll, the coordinates for another castle might be hidden inside."

"How can we pick off any weaklings if they aren't any?" Ino furiously whispered back. "Have you seen the other teams? They will rip us apart if we tried to take their scrolls!"

"...Well, besides Naruto's team of course."

"What are you talking about, you idiot? Naruto and Sakura are total losers, true, but they are teamed up with Sasuke. SASUKE!"

"...She does have a point," Shikamaru chipped in, his gaze fixated on the Ame-nin.

"Oi! What are you losers whispering about?" asked the opposing cell's midget.

"You can have it!" Shikamaru shouted back. "The castle! We won't fight you for it if you promise not to come after us!"

"Whatever! Get lost losers!"

Shikamaru exhaled as they retreated. "...Ai. What a plan in the neck."

"What now?" Ino asked.

"We could still try to find weaklings we could steal another scroll from?"

Shikamaru scoffed inwardly. I doubt we would find anyone weaker than us though—

*AHHHH!*

The Nara scion froze. His eyes flickered to meet his teammates' equally terrified ones. The screaming behind them suddenly cut off and the feeling of dread running down his spine intensified suddenly.

"Oh," came a familiar voice from behind him. Shikamaru slowly turned around to meet a pair of equally familiar onyx eyes. Sasuke's gaze was half-lidded—sleepy—as he observed them. A moment passed and the last Uchiha blinked as if finally recognising them. The dread rocking his body receded and Shikamaru gasped, suddenly realising he had been holding his breath.

"You guys should be more careful," the monster-in-human-skin said. "Especially you, Ino. You know I would hate to hear something bad happened to you."

The blonde nodded. For once her face was not flushed red as her 'idol' addressed her. She looked a little pale. Frightened. Shikamaru said nothing, watching as the Uchiha tossed something towards him. His hands moved of their own accord to catch it. A scroll.

A mission scroll.

"I assume since you guys found this place so quickly you must have found the message hidden in your mission scroll?"

Shikamaru nodded mechanically in response.

"Good. That belongs to the team in the back there… Or it did, I guess. Whatever. The scroll contains the coordinates to another castle four hours northeast of here. I believe you guys should have no problem finding it on your own?"

Shikamaru shook his head. Mute.

"Good. I will be heading back now. Stay safe." And with those words, the Uchiha disappeared.

"...Scary," Choji muttered, for once not chewing on something. Shikamaru wasn't hard-pressed to disagree with him. Neither was Ino for that matter.

We flickered back to our camp to find Sakura still asleep and Naruto chewing on the last of the spit-roasted fish we made earlier.

"That was supposed to last all three of us for the rest of the day, Naruto," we tell the boy in passing as we returned to our sleeping bag. Preparing the rations was a hassle given it had to be done far enough from camp to throw off possible trackers. And without a thought, our blonde, gluttonous fool here consumed everything in one sitting.

"I was starving!" came the predicted response. We sighed as we made a mental note to make enough to last three weeks on our next run; even Naruto could not eat much… we hope. Pulling the warm fabric over our shoulders we let our mind lull into a state of semi-consciousness. After all, unlike our previous existence, our body's physiology remained human. We needed rest; there was only so long we could stay awake before our grey matter started to sustain irreparable damage. We would rather not learn firsthand how said damage affected our capacity to achieve our prime objective.

We awoke two hours later, lobbing an orb of water at the campfire Naruto just created in blatant disregard of our prior warnings, before immediately going back to sleep. In the haze of unconsciousness, we heard the boy squawk in indignation as a small cloud of steam and acrid smoke rushed up to his face. We promptly ignored him.

It wasn't until another three hours that we awoke again. It was already dawn but Sakura was still asleep. A clone of Naruto sat at the exit playing a game of tic-tac-toe with another clone. At the back of our shelter, another clone sat doodling something on the mudwall we created to seal off the exit.

We reached outwards with our senses and found the original outside in a taijutsu spar with a clone. We ignored the two, sending our perception further in search of interlopers. There were none. It wasn't until the sixth day that we got our next visitors. A shinobi trio from Otogakure. At the end of that day, we had two more teams visit, one of whom was Konoha-nin. Team eight. We sent them away with the coordinates to another castle towards the south. They were the last.

The time for the exam eventually elapsed and a chunin-ranked proctor—Iruka from the academy, surprisingly—arrived via a summoning seal engraved on a plaque in the treehouse to congratulate us. We ignored the drivel he was tasked with feeding us, waiting until he deemed it time for us to return. A reverse-summoning later and we were back at the academy.

There we found the Hokage waiting for us.

017 - The Final Exam {PT. I}

KONOHA

We looked around the hall at the assembled figures. Asides from our Jonin-sensei, the proctors and a handful of foreign Jonins, there were only three other teams in the hall asides from ours.

"Oi," Kakashi called to us as we made our way towards the centre of the hall where the other Genin were gathered. The Jonin made a beeline towards us. "You guys did good," he said

"Eh! It was easy!" Naruto scoffed, pouting as he folded his arms in a disgruntled manner. "Boring! After Sasuke found our castle on the first day we had nothing else to do until Iruka-sensei arrived to take us away!"

"Really?" the silver-haired shinobi asked as he turned to face us, one brow raised inquisitively.

We ignored him.

"...Kakashi-sensei, what happened to the other teams?" Sakura asked. "I thought there were meant to be eight teams at the end of this exam?"

"The other territories were still being contested when the allocated time elapsed, so they were disqualified."

"...But nothing in the rules made any mention of that." the girl said, confused.

"They did, just not directly. Remember rule number one?"

"Oh. Yes. Any team not in possession of a castle at the end of the exam is disqualified."

"Exactly. Besides, one of the goals of the exam is to test your abilities to remain within a mission's stated parameters. The inability to maintain total control of the designated target goes contrary to this."

We guessed as much, but apparently, that needed to be spelt out for our teammates; we even suspected Naruto was still somewhat confused despite the explanation. Kakashi said a bit more before departing to join the other Jonin at the side of the hall. We didn't say a word to him throughout. The fact seemed to make him uneasy. At that moment the Hokage made his way towards the podium in front.

"Congratulations to you all," he began, "on passing the second exam! The third examination is about to start, but before I go into the specifics of how it would be conducted let me make one thing clear. This series of so-called examinations is, in fact, a war-in-miniature between all of our allied lands."

Well, that was abrupt, we thought to ourself, marvelling at the Hokage's lacking theatrics. A murmur raced through the rabble at his words.

"If you had paid attention in your history classes," Sarutobi continued, "or at least glanced at a map once in your life, it would become swiftly apparent to you that our alliance is nothing more than a temporary, mutually beneficial, agreement between a group of geographically contiguous lands whose previous existence was one of strife and perpetual conflict for power and control of resources… until, at least, a better way was devised. That way is, you've guessed it, the Chunin exams.

"This third exam would be conducted under the watchful eyes of several distinguished guests; including all the rulers and nobility of the various lands you aspire to serve. And among their number will be those who rule over each country's hidden shinobi village.

"If any one nation's applicant demonstrates outstanding skill and superiority, the noblemen from every land will be quick to commission work from those trained in that superior nation. Conversely, if any particular country's applicant is shown to be feeble and weak, commissions to agents of that country would dwindle in response. These exams provide a public arena for each country to show off and boast of its strength. This test has great meaning and consequences! You risk not only your own futures and dreams, but the dignity and prestige of your home village as well.

The hall fell silent as the Hokage paused, allowing his words to sink in.

"Moving on. I shall begin explaining the finals. As I mentioned earlier, you will conduct your final round of battles in front of everyone. Each of you represents the battle strengths of your respective lands so we want you to exhibit and fully showcase your various talents. Thus the finals will commence one month from now after your requisite preparation period has elapsed. During this period, you can analyze the intelligence you must have gathered on your foes and use it to increase your chances of victory in the final exams. But, before you leave there is something I need you to help me with for the finals. Anko?"

"On it, Hokage-sama," replied one of the Kuniochi in the rear. She stepped forward carrying a box with a rubber tarp on top.

"There are slips of paper inside the box Anko is holding. She'll come around, so line up. When she does, each of you, take one."

When our turn came, we reached into the box to retrieve one slip of paper.

"Alright, does everyone have one now?" Sarutobi asked. "Then starting from left to right, call out your name and the number on your slip."

"Kiba, number five."

"H-hinata, number f-four."

"Shino, number six."

"Tenten, number eight."

"Neji, number ten."

"Rock Lee, number one!"

"Gaara. Number two."

"Temari, number three."

"Kankuro, number eleven."

"Naruto! Number nine!"

"Sakura, number seven."

"Sasuke. Number twelve."

The Hokage nodded, seemingly in approval. "And now, I will reveal the match order for the finals. Ibiki, show them the pairings!"

"Hmm. First round, eh?.." Our gaze flickered to the side to regard Kankuro. The puppet user stared back, his eye narrowed into slits. We looked away, turning back towards the Hokage.

"For the finals, you will be observed by many judges. Not only me but the Kazekage and the rulers and shinobi leaders of countries that would be requesting missions as well. Based on your performance in the tournament, those judges will assign you an absolute value and all those who are deemed to have sufficient ability to become journeyman ninjas, even those who have lost in the first round, can become chunin."

"...Do you mean all of us here could become chunin?" Sakura asked, surprised.

"Yes," the Hokage replied. "Conversely, it is also possible that none of you will become chunin. Any questions? Well then, good luck. You are all dismissed."

A Few Days Later…

"I am impressed," we tell our newest associate.

"What's there to be impressed about?" the Genin asked.

"How you managed to get Konoha to believe you were harmless of course. It's blatantly obvious there is more than meets the eye about you. The adoptive son of a conveniently deceased medical ninja. A medical ninjutsu specialist in your own right, yet still, an utter failure as a shinobi. So much so that you earned yourself a rather comical moniker.

"Isn't that right… Kabuto, the Eternal Genin?"

The covert operative chuckled. 'Too outstanding?" he asked. We nodded.

"I myself am a big fan of yours, Uchiha-san. The aura of mystique that cloak your very name is in a word, Legendary. That is with a capital L. You won't believe the stories about you that slither through the underbelly of the shinobi world… and yet I fear they might be grievous underestimations still."

We ignored the probe, turning our gaze towards the full moon hanging in the sky above. "Orochimaru said he had something prepared for me?"

"That he did," Kabuto replied tossing a scroll towards us. We caught it, Sharingan memorizing the contents before flickering out. Our chakra churned and the scroll went up in flames.

"When would the rest of the list be available?" we asked.

"It might take a while," Kabuto replied. "Digging around for the names of operatives on the level of ROOT is not an easy task after all."

We nodded at that. "Take your time. When you have it let me know. Let Orochimaru know I would be expecting further correspondence on this matter as well."

"Well, I guess I am done here then," the spy said. "Will you be taking care of clean up… or should I handle it."

"No. No, I'll do it."

Kabuto smiled as we turned around to face the rapidly retreating chakra signature.

"Shunshin!"

We appeared directly in front of the fleeing Konoha-nin. "Proctor-san," we said as we turned to face him.

"...Uchiha Sasuke," the Jonin growled as he drew his blade. "You traitorous scum."

"It couldn't be helped," we tell him. "Although now we feel bad. ANBU number five had always been our favourite; I doubt she would be all too pleased to hear you got yourself killed,

"Hayate…"

018 - The Final Exam {PT. II}

KONOHA

A Month Later…

The crowd was absolutely rabid as we and the other qualifying candidates made our way towards the centre of the arena. Names were chanted and provocative jabs were hurled from above. We let our lips curl into a smile—Sharingan flickering into existence—as we waved at the mindless rabble in the audience seats. A primal roar of exhilaration ripped through the crowd in response and suddenly the name Uchiha was uttered by seemingly every soul in attendance.

As it should be, of course.

"Show off," we heard Kiba mutter in response. The boy sank of envy. The poor thing.

"Stop fidgeting," ordered Genma, the proctor for this exam. Being the target of the rebuttal, Hinata froze in response. "Stand still and face forward, towards the guests. You are all the stars of these finals, so act like it!"

We sent a thumbs up the Hyuga heiress's way and, to our amusement, she shrivelled up further in response. Our attention flickered back towards the seats above, panning around until it slowly came to rest at the location of the seat of honour. Sharingan still active we could make out the wrinkles on the Hokage's face despite the distance. The doddery fool leaned to the side, muttering something to the Kazehage by his side and the other Kage's predatory gaze turned to regard us. We held the veiled man's gaze for a moment before looking, letting our Sharingan fade back into the black.

"Ahem!" came the Hokage's voice via loudspeaker as he addressed the crowd. "Ladies and gentlemen! Esteemed guests! Welcome, and a heartfelt thanks for gathering here in the Village-Hidden-in-the-Leaves for the Chunin selection examinations! We will now begin the matches of the final rounds between the twelve qualifying candidates. Please sit back and enjoy!"

The crowd roared once more in anticipation. It was tiring, to be honest; the pleasure humans found in exhibitions of senseless violence. Still, we smiled and waved, goading them on like the mindless lemmings they were.

"Listen up, all of you," Genma said. "This is the last exam. The terrain is different, and so are the rules. You fight until one f you dies or admits defeat. Or unless I determine that a clear winner has already been decided, in which case I will stop the match before anyone is killed. Understand? All right then … Match one! Lee versus Gaara! You two stay down here, the rest of you. The rest of you proceed to the waiting room outside the arena."

What is the meaning of meaning? What does it mean for something to mean something? Human language—words—in its most reductive state was a coalescence of unintelligible noises that, on their own held no meaning, but when pieced together, incomprehensibly found meaning. The tone; the pauses; the little lilts in words give further meaning to this… meaning.

Colours on their own had no meaning, but the mortal mind always finds a way to inexplicably assign meaning to them. Red; rage. Green; envy, disgust. Black; solitude. White; purity. It always does. It always will.

Of course, in our highest state, we found no use for meaning. For something to mean something, it must be explainable. Understandable. Comprehensible! ... For something to be comprehensible, is for it to be named. When you know something's True Name—not just a descriptive term for it, but an accurate, all-encapsulating term—you can control it. A name is a symbol that allows you to reduce the thing and reference it simply. It allows you to capture the identity of something much larger in just a few syllables. To describe something in words is to give it a name—to encapsulate it, make it small…

To give yourself some power over it.

"...There is no language for such abysms of shrieking and immemorial lunacy, such eldritch contradictions of all matter, force, and cosmic order. A mountain walked or stumbled. God! … The Thing of the idols, the green, sticky spawn of the stars, had awaked to claim his own."

These were the words of an enlightened mortal, one whose work we had the pleasure of perusing earlier in this life. In a way, it was the most beautiful thing the mortal world ever offered us. Like looking at one's reflection on the surface of a turbulent, murky lake illuminated only by the dim rays of the moon peeking out from behind the cloud cover.

Vague and indecipherable, yet the closest thing to a portrait of our true self we would ever find.

What is the mortal mind to do when it perceives an entity that defies its capacity for understanding? A name falls short; a description shorter still. It is… the Ineffable. The thing which cannot be named. The Unnamable. The indescribable.

The incomprehensible.

When words fail, the mortal mind seeks out other means. Thoughts about divinity. Infinity. Experiences so strange they cannot be related; emotions so poignant they cannot be meaningfully expressed. What does it do with these things? If not with language, how does it describe it? Something the rational mind, eager to describe—and thus, understand—strains against.

In light of these thoughts, one could say, our existence is a demonstration of the climax of mortal limitations.

Our gaze returns to the arena to regard the lesser thing below toying with its meal. A creature of sand and hatred, not much unlike the little fox. The taste of blood in its chakra was sickeningly sweet, yet it could not crave it more. Consume and destroy, that was the code carved into its grains. It sought to verify its existence through the suffering of others. To find meaning through violence…

To define itself.

Our lips curled in disdain as the proctor called the match. Gaara flickered out of the arena, his bloodshot eyes radiating bloodlust as they turned to face us.

"Truly," we think, "an inferior existence."

The rest of the battles went by in a blur. Pointless and insignificant. Jejune.

Temari, Shino, Tenten and Neji all made it to the next round seemingly without any effort. Both our teammates were summarily knocked out of the race. It wasn't unexpected. How disgraceful, however, it must be for Kakashi that only the student he blatantly refused to train was the one to not suffer a catastrophic defeat.

Of course, we had yet to battle Kankuro, but we all knew what the result of this match would be. We had known this since the moment the pairings were announced a month ago. We leapt from the waiting room into the arena, the sleeves of our noble kimono, as well as our silken mane, billowing in the wind around us. Our feet touched the ground in a swirl of leaves, dust and chakra. From the feminine screams raging through the crowd above, we guessed the audience loved it.

Nothing like a bit of dramatic flair to get a few hearts racing, after all.

"Are you done showboating yet?" Kankuro's puppet asked. The boy hung from the construct's back, wrapped up in bandages from head to toe and disguised as the puppet itself. We could see the little chakra threads extending from the puppet's hard points to his twitching fingers inside his cocoon of fabric.

Our Sharingan flickered off and we tilted our head, as we regarded the boy. "I guess," we told him.

"...I hate your kind," he spat a few seconds later, perhaps sensing the mockery in our response. "You sleazy, lecherous lout. I know what your intentions are for Temari, and I promise, I am going to beat it out of that powdered face of yours. Gigolo."

We smiled at the boy. "Since you care so much about your sister, I guess I'll go easy on you after all," we tell him.

The Suna-nin growled in response. Our smile remained, unabated.

"Begin!" Genma said, signalling the start of the match.

"..."

The arena suddenly fell silent. Kankuro's puppet still disguised as himself remained where it stood. We were now a few dozen paces behind it holding the cocooned Suna-nin to the arena wall. Our grip constricted, wrapping tightly around his neck as our chakra flooded his system, causing the energy flow to grow turbulent and his control over his weapons of choice to turn nonexistent. The puppet behind us fell to the ground with a noisy clatter, the henge shrouding it dispelling in a cloud of white smoke. Kankuro's cocoon of bandages slowly unfurled, revealing his face pale from asphyxiation. The Shinobi clawed at our wrist in desperation, his hands unable to pry off our chakra-augmented grip.

"I-I yield," he mouthed.

"He yields," we said, relaying the message to our stunned proctor.

"...T-the winner is Uchiha Sasuke!" Genma announced, still in disbelief, the senbon in his mouth nearly falling to the ground.

We let the Suna-nin go and he slid to the ground choking for air. The arena remained silent but slowly the crowd seemed to register Genma's words. It wasn't until we flickered back to our seat in the waiting area that they finally returned to their shouting, screaming selves. The noise was nearly unbearable. They seemed surprised.

Why? we thought to ourself. What were they expecting?

019 - The Final Exam {PT. III}

KONOHA

"Any leads yet?" Hiruzen asked as he stared at Sasuke's lithe form returning to his seat in the waiting area below, his brows furrowed in grim contemplation.

"No, Hokage-sama," replied Raidō Namiashi, one of the Tokubetsu-jōnin in his compliment of elite bodyguards. "We still have a few squads of ANBU operatives searching for signs of the Snake-sannin, but our leads all seem to have gone cold… Also, the forensics team finally submitted their report on the matter of Gekkō's murder; the killer did a clean job, sir. They were unable to glean anything of relevance from the corpse; apparently, another dead end."

"...Keep searching," The Kage grunted in response. "If it is really Orochimaru we are dealing with then we won't have to wait long until he strikes again."

"Yes, Hokage-sama," came the Jōnin's reply before he flickered away. An uneasy feeling settled in the Hokage's mind as he turned his gaze back to the Uchiha boy across the arena from him. What plans did that wayward student of his have for this terrifyingly prodigious child? Hiruzen wondered.

"This Sasuke boy is pretty interesting…" commented the Kazekage to Hiruzen's left. "I assume this confirms the rumours that he indeed received the tutelage of Konoha's renowned Shisui of the Body Flicker. Such speed… it's unheard of in the youth of his generation."

"Indeed," Hiruzen replied, his tone noncommittal. Hopefully, that's all the boy learnt from those monsters, the Kage thought to himself. But even Hiruzen knew that was simply wishful thinking on his part; what were the odds that Wicked-eye Fugaku would refuse to pass on some of his secrets to his son when a fellow clansman had already done the same to great effect?

Wishful thinking indeed.

Hiruzen observed the match with a critical eye. Although that kunoichi student of Might Guy—Tenten—was woefully disadvantaged from the start, she still managed a noble showing against the Aburame scion before inadvertently succumbing to her fate. It was an inspiring match; the girl showed great promise and would most likely make chunin despite her defeat.

At the very least, she already had his vote.

A few medical-nin appeared on stage to transport her, limp, chakra-depleted body out of the arena to the medical bay underneath the Colosseum. Once she was catered for and Shino Aburame returned to the waiting area, the proctor signalled the start of the next match.

"The next pairing is Temari Sabaku. against Gaara Sabaku! Please come down!"

"I withdraw!" came the kunoichi's response.

A wave of muttering rippled through the crowd, but sympathetic understanding persisted. After all, everyone had seen what ruthlessness Gaara was capable of. Very few desired to see a repeat of Lee's defeat. Even fewer wished such misfortune on a girl

The proctor called and the next competitors appeared on the stage almost simultaneously.

"Hyuga Neji versus Uchiha Sasuke!"

Moments later, Genma flickered out of the arena leaving behind the two noble scions. They stood exactly a hundred metres apart. A gust blew through the clearing, lightly tossing their loose sleeves and long black manes in the air, and the air grew weighted with galvanised chakra

"Begin!"

The Uchiha rushed forward first, his hands a blur as they formed nigh-indecipherable hands seals. Opposite him, Neji let his body relax into the Hyuga's signature "Gentle Fist" stance. Eighty metres into his charge Sasuke's form flickered, his body splitting into five afterimages that manoeuvred to attack the Hyuga from multiple directions.

Hiruzen leaned forward as Neji spun on his heels in response, his chakra flaring as he parried rippling salvos of explosive jabs and kicks aimed at his vitals. One of the afterimages—no, a clone. A Shadow Clone!—retreated from the melee, its hand blurring through hand signs. A moment later, a fireball roared across the arena, instantly enveloping the Hyuga still embroiled in a battle with two other clones. With an eye-searing flash, the fireball detonated, its resultant over-pressure ruffling Hiruzen's clothing even where he sat in his cubicle above.

The Hokage squinted as he tried to peer through the billowing dust and smog that now enveloped the arena. It wasn't until a few moments had passed that the dust slowly began to settle.

In the centre of a smouldering crater fifty meters wide stood Neji Hyuga. His face was dusted grey with soot and the edges of his clothing were singed black. The Hyuga looked bruised and battered. Comparatively, the three Sasuke-look-alikes that stood safely out of arms reach from him had succeeded in maintaining their pristine appearances.

The difference was blatant for all to see.

"Neji's mastery of the Hyuga's famed Revolving Heaven is rather impressive," the Kazekage commented idly, seemingly unfazed by the display. "To be able to neutralise the effects of such a masterfully executed fire-style technique to such an extent… Impressive."

Hiruzen didn't respond, his attention fixated on the match below.

"Give up," came Sasuke's disembodied voice from all three look-alikes at once. Given how minutely their forms were flickering, at least one of the three was probably an Afterimage Clone, courtesy of the long-dead Shisui Uchiha. Sasuke seemed to have not mastered the technique yet given how easy it was to tell it was being performed. "

"I would rather not have to waste any more chakra on a pointless battle," The Uchiha continued, expressionless. "You can't beat me." A suspenseful silence hung in the air over the Colosseum following his words. Then, slowly, as if in response, Neji took a stance.

"...Very well then," Sasuke sighed as each of his bodies formed a one-handed Ram sign. "Bind!" they said in unison. From across the arena, Hiruzen could feel the boy's chakra churn. It felt thick and cold on his skin. Aberrant. The inert network of barrier tags that lay hidden beneath the smothering, chakra-infused dirt suddenly flared to life with an intensity that would have probably been visible to even the untrained senses of an academy student.

In a panic, Neji tried to escape the entrapment but was suddenly obstructed by a clone. Ribbons of animated kanji sprung out of the dirt akin to a sea of mutated bamboo shoots as the barrier activated beneath his feet, latching onto him and the sacrificial clone like starved leeches and sealing them both away.

The arena fell silent as the two paper cocoons fell to the ground with muted thuds. Neutralised.

"...Hyuga Neji is no longer able to compete." The proctor's voice broke the fragile silence.

"The winner is Uchiha Sasuke!"

020 - Decimated

KONOHA

"I withdraw."

Shino's withdrawal was no surprise to us, but we still found it amusing that two out of three of the Suna-nin's battles were forfeitures. Gaara really did make an impression in his battle against Rock Lee.

"Shino Aburame has withdrawn from the match," announced Genma. "By default, the winner is Sabaku Gaara! The next pairing is Uchiha Sasuke against Sabaku Gaara! Please, the participants should make their way down now!"

We flickered into the arena and turned around to face our opponent still in the waiting area above. We met his hungry gaze with a questioning quirk of our brow, but as if to spite us Gaara turned around towards the stairs to take the long way down. It mattered little; the results would remain the same whether or not he chooses to stall.

In fact, doing so was to his further disadvantage. We were still down seventeen per cent of our total chakra reserves from our battles despite the rest period we enjoyed between each match. The more time we had to regain chakra, the more hopeless this battle was going to be for him. A minute later, our gaze flickered to regard our opponent as he emerged from the exit below.

"Now then," Genma said, chewing on his senbon. "At long last…

"Begin!"

Our figure blurred in reverse as a massive appendage of sand cleaved through the afterimage we left behind. "Bind!" we intoned, tugging on our chakra pool as invoked the Fūinjutsu trap we used against Neji Hyuga earlier in the last match. The proctor made no decision to have it removed so it remained there, at our disposal. And as before, ribbons of animated kanji sprung out of the dirt, latching onto our opponent as they rapidly sealed him away.

The arena fell silent in apparent shock as they stared at the cocooned suna-nin across from us. Just when it seemed like the match was over, the paper cocoon wrapping the Suna-nin began to bulge and swell horribly, the kanji holding the structure together straining to its utmost limit just before they burst. Chakra-infused sand spilt out explosively, near-perfectly concealing the spike that shot out to impale us.

We flickered out of the way before shooting forward in a foray. From his last match, it was apparent that our opponent was apparently very hardy and powerful, but this came at a rather obvious cost.

Speed.

He seemed to fail to perceive when our fist struck his face as he was launched several meters across the arena. His shield of sand rose to defend him a few milliseconds later, but we were no longer even attacking from that vector. It was comical how we didn't even need to augment our attacks with Genjustu to ensure they hit their marks.

In this manner we continually pummelled the sand-wielder, but as expected, to little effect. A layer of hardened sand coated his skin, dispersing our blows tremendously.

Sensing the futility of a further taijutsu barrage, and content with the data we gathered on the technique, we immediately switched gears. Our Sharingan mutely whirred to life, its draw on our Chakra as minuscule as it was during our battle with the Hyuga scion. Flickering directly in front of our opponent we pulled him into a Genjutsu. It would be trifling to disable him with a high-level demonic illusion, but doing so in a gathering this large and varied would be unwise.

Despite Orochimaru's vagueness, we were aware our opponent was most likely a Jinchūriki given his vast chakra reserves and the primal nature of his aura. In many ways, he reminded us of Konoha's own resident Jinchūriki: Naruto. Being able to best him with a Genjutsu would simply be outing one of our most vital skills over what amounted to nothing more than a glorified cock fight. Tactically, it would be stupid.

Strategically, it would be suicidal.

Instead, we opted for a minor Genjutsu. One that simply robbed our target of the ability to sense anything outside their own body, isolating their perception and focusing it entirely inwards. It was an original technique of our very own creation. We called it the "Demonic Illusion: Void Sea".

The technique struck and held firm. As expected our target began to flail around blindly, attacking in every and all direction. What was unexpected was the wail that emerged from his mouth; sand streamers rose around him, shuddering and jerking in the air as if in pain.

"mOTHeR!" Gaara wailed in a manner horrid to the human psyche. "MoTHEr! PleaSE! I aM sORRY! FoRGIVe mE! pLEasE DOn"t LEavE Me! don'T LEAve mE ALoNE! I AM Sor—"

The grating, inhuman screams cut off suddenly and we felt the Genjustu we placed on our target dispel immediately afterwards. A wave of sinister chakra roiled off the boy's hunched form. The tailed-beast? We stared curiously as he rose to his feet. Slowly, he looked up and his crazed eyes met ours.

Our left brow rose.

He screeched in response. "I wILL kiLL YoU!"

His hands clapped together to form the Tiger seal. And his lips began shuddering as crazed mutters escaped from his maw.

*jin*

*saru*

*hebi*

*saru*

*jin*

*saru*

*tori*

*tatsu*

…

The sand in the air began to swirl faster, condensing into the shape of a dome, before suddenly hardening. We stared at the earthen ball in confusion. Flickering over it, we gave it an exploratory jab before contorting out of the way of the numerous sand spikes that shot out in response to impale us.

We doubled back, eyeing the defensive technique in contemplation. The Suna-nin was obviously preparing a very powerful technique in that ball he had hidden in. A technique that apparently took a lot of time to settle up given his willingness to retreat despite the bloodlust he felt for us. We could sense the chakra within the earthen ball churning violently as he called upon his vast chakra reserves.

We could not let him finish whatever he was up to, we decided. Feh! Troublesome fellow…

Our hands blurred as we weaved hand signs. In our chest, we felt our chakra boil, and in the back of our throat, we felt it ignite, exiting our body as a torrent of searing flames. The fireball collided with the sand dome explosively, the over-pressure from the detonation driving winds that forced us to squint just to see despite already covering our eyes with a layer of chakra.

When the dust cleared, we were treated to the sight of a seemingly lightly damaged defence. Only a small portion of the ball was destroyed by the explosion. We expected that, but we never planned on neutralising our target in that manner so it mattered little.

Instead, we turned our attention to the slightly molten surface of the defensive structure. Molten sand slowly slagged off the surface of the ball to pool underneath. Content, we let our hands blur through another series of hand signs.

"Water Release: Water Severing Wave!"

A supersonic jet of water shot out of our mouth towards Gaara's defences. At that moment, several things happened at once and it was only thanks to our Sharingan that we could perceive any of it at all.

As the layer of molten sand was struck by the chakra-infused jet of water it rapidly cooled, shrinking as it near-instantaneously cooled from its molten state, vitrifying. Cracks formed throughout the lattice structure of the newly formed glass layer, propagating vigorously through the mass of silica. A microsecond later, the kinetic properties of the water jet came into play. Travelling at nearly two times the speed of sound, the stream of water neatly punched through the glassed dome and shot out the other side. It continued onwards to strike the side of the Colosseum boring through it instantly.

A moment later the technique sputtered out, digging a jagged groove as descended, sputtering out of existence. We waited, watching as cracks spread out across the surface of the dome before crumbling to the ground. The clinking of falling glass resounded across the otherwise silent arena.

Gaara now stood in the open across from us, a gruesome hole torn through his right lung. Had it been a normal human such a wound would have been a guaranteed death, but with his Jinchūriki status, we couldn't say for certain.

If we wanted him dead, it would have been a simple matter of just aiming a few inches more to the left, but we didn't. Apparently, our newest associate, the Snake-sannin, predicted we might have some use for the boy's prowess in future. And having seen what he was capable of, we were hard-pressed to disagree.

Our opponent looked down at his wound in confusion. He tried to speak, but only a bloody, sputtering cough exited his mouth. The next moment, he slumped over, unconscious before he even hit the ground in an instinctual bid to avoid the worse of the trauma.

Medical-nin flickered into the arena just seconds later, crowding over the boy as they began administering first aid. We ignored the group. We knew of the inhuman regenerative capabilities of Jinchūriki; one too many times we have seen Naruto's wound close up in real-time. The suna-nin would live, so long as the medics in charge were competent.

Our attention panned to Genma. The proctor stared at us, his gaze turbulent with unspoken thoughts. But at the end of the day, he still had a job to do.

"Sabaku Gaara is no longer able to compete," he declared to the rabid crowd.

"The winner is Uchiha Sasuke!"

INTERLUDE (2)

KONOHA

Shikamaru gently bit into the piece of barbeque hanging from his chopsticks. The succulent slice of meat oozed a smattering of oil that glossed his lips. It was tasty as one would expect from a meal prepared by Konoha's very own Yakiniku Q's barbeque saloon. Yet, despite this, the Nara scion chewed on it in a visibly absent-minded manner, his attention staunchly fixed on the shinobi seated across from him. Sasuke, as usual, conversed easily with the rest of their group with all the charm and charisma he had, over the years, become renowned for.

Sakura and Ino, the twin airheads currently wounded tightly around the Uchiha's dainty fingers, giggled at a joke made at Kiba's expense; the Inuzuka boy growled a threat in response only to suffer even more ridicule. Sasuke was being playful, in that annoying, haughty manner he was so fond of. Naruto, in an uncommon show of solidarity, came to Kiba's aid but quickly came under fire as the Uchiha's attention turned to focus on him. Hinata blushed as the blonde exploded in outrage, challenging his teammate to a duel. At that, even the usually introverted girl spoke up to dissuade the fool from persisting in his ludicrous demands for battle against the Chūnin who earned himself the moniker "Evil Flame" even before graduating from the academy.

Shikamaru turned his attention to the only two members of this gathering who were not currently snagged in Sasuke's orbit. Shino stared at the group in silence, calm and collected as he always was, his thoughts unknown. Choji on the other hand was too carried away scarfing down the barbeque to realise what was going on in front of him.

Shikamaru shuddered as the memory of his run-in with the Uchiha during the exams flashed through his mind. His teammates might have forgotten, the feeling of depression from losing the other castle to the subsequent elation they felt at Sasuke's attempts to lift their spirits dulling their memory of the incident. But he didn't. Rather, he couldn't. Shikamaru could still hardly believe Ino had it in her to sit directly beside the monster after how close they had all come to losing their lives at his hands.

Whenever Shikamaru peered at the taller boy, he felt as if he could somewhat see past the illusion. Behind those bright, lively Onyx eyes was a deadly calm, totally blank, and unreadable. Shikaku once mentioned that their Nara clan's attunement with Yin nature granted them some intuitive insight into the metaphysical. Never once had Shikamaru doubted his father's claim; neither did he plan to begin doing so any time soon. He could feel it. The monster behind those eyes. Something pretending to be human. If one stared at the Uchiha long enough they would begin to see it too; motion fluid in a manner normal humans—skilled shinobi included—would find impossible to achieve, yet unnaturally still when calm. Like a great summit. Unmoveable.

Impervious.

"Shikamaru?" the monster called. "What's wrong? You are not hungry?"

Shikamaru almost made the mistake of making eye contact, averting his gaze to stare out the window at the last moment. "Thank you," he replied, forcing the delicious morsel down his throat. "I might be feeling a bit under the weather today."

"You need to take better care of yourself," Ino scolded, a smudge of concern peeking past beneath her annoyance. Shikamaru turned to face her, his expression softening as she pouted at him. His gaze wandered. Despite her best effort to hide it, he noticed the girl leaning deeply into the embrace monster beside her, seemingly completely unconcerned for her safety. For a moment Shikamaru wondered to himself if the girl possessed any survival instincts at all. Then he remembered who it was she was leaning against and his expression hardened immediately.

There was no way the lovesick fool would realise what danger she was in. After all, he had seen how easily the Uchiha manipulated her and toyed with her emotions. It was a fool's errand to expect anything else from the girl.

Alas, habit was a two-timing mistress. Shikamaru looked up, and by some stroke of bad luck, his gaze met Sasuke's. Instantly, he dragged his gaze back to the open window by his side, pretending to be distracted by the activity outside. But it was too late. The monster's crimson, soul-piercing gaze lingered on the fringes of his memory, pressing against his mind like an excluded ghost, shrouding it in a haze of confusion and uncertainty.

Slowly, Shikamaru felt his suspicions towards the Uchiha wane. He could feel it seeping out of him, like oil through a grain sieve. He clawed at it to return to no avail … Then he blinked, suddenly feeling much better than he had in weeks; as if a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders. A persistent thought nagged at the back of his mind but he could not, for the life of him, remember what it was.

Well, whatever it was, if he had forgotten it so easily, it must have not been important. Likely some chore his mother had nagged him to complete but remains untouched. Lazily, he dismissed the whisperings entirely. With a relaxed exhale, he turned his attention back to the barbeque in front of him.

How nice of Sasuke to invite them for lunch. Shikamaru thought. Even though the Uchiha could be a pain to deal with sometimes, he really should try to be nicer to the guy. At least for Ino's sake if nothing else…

Konoha Hospital.

Gaara gasped as he awoke.

Instinctively, he called on his sand and the mass of silica rushed forth to encase his prone form. It hurt. Everywhere. What happened, Gaara wondered to himself, his brain struggling to recollect. Then it did and a feeling of bone-deep loathing arose in his heart.

"I will kill him," the Suna-nin croaked.

"Ha, you are finally awake," came a voice beside him. "Glad to see you are feeling better."

Gaara willed the sand to prop his body up. His gaze squinted balefully as he regarded the four that occupied the room with him. His attention panned, ignoring Baki and the rest of his squad to focus on the fellow who had just spoken. A Konoha-nin with onyx eyes and ash-grey hair worn in a ponytail. He looked generic enough if one ignored the black-rimmed circular glasses propped on the bridge of his nose.

"Where is he?" Gaara growled.

"I assume you are asking about Uchiha-san?" the unnamed Konoha-nin replied. "He and the rest of his team left a week ago on a B-rank mission to the Land of the Waves. It's classified, of course, but since we are all allies I figured it shouldn't hurt to keep you in the loop."

Gaara's mind spun as he digested the response. "...How long have I been unconscious?"

"Three weeks," Baki replied, his gaze cold. "Congratulations by the way. You made Chūnin."

"...Three weeks." The sand Jinchūriki swallowed. His gaze finally panned downwards to regard his own body. Lengths of white bandages wrapped around the entirety of his body beneath the hospital gown he wore. Underneath, his skin was aflame with a persistent itch.

"You suffered significant injuries during your battle with Uchiha-san," the Konoha-nin supplied helpfully. "The worst of them was the hole Sasuke drilled through your right lung and the severe burns you suffered when super-heated steam leaked past your defences. Had it been anyone else, they probably would have survived."

"The Kazekage visited," Baki interjected. "He noted your failure and ordered your return to the village post-haste to restart your training. Your critical state delayed our return. Nonetheless, we will remain here until I determine you are fit enough to travel."

Gaara remained silent even as his visitors vacated the room, the thought of his failure clouding his mind. He leaned back into the bed he sat upon feeling lost.

If not to destroy those standing in my way, what then is my purpose?

A gust of wind blew through the open window, lifting the edge of a slip of paper held down by a glass vase holding a few Chrysanthemums. The flash of white caught his attention. Absentmindedly, Gaara willed his sand to retrieve it.

I look forward to meeting you again, Sabaku-san, it read. Get well soon.

Signed, Sasuke.

The letter crumpled in Gaara's clenched fist. His face remained calm. Placid. But in the depths of his gaze, a smouldering of bloodlust reignited; flaring. Burning brighter than ever before.

A vengeful growl escaped Gaara's maw. I will kill you…

Uchiha Sasuke!

AUTHOR'S NOTE

We have a P(atreo)n: Check it out if you want to read in advance

ravenaelwood?fan_landing=true

If the link doesn't work check the repost on scribblehub. It has a little red button on the bottom of each chapter that says "P-atreo-n". That should suffice.