SASUKE: The Fanfiction

by Ravenaelwood

Description …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.

2. Chapter 2

021 - The Mission {PT. I}

THE EASTERN BORDER - THE LAND OF FIRE

"...Um, Sasuke-kun," Sakura called beside us. Our gaze panned to regard the girl. "Are there ninjas in the Land of the Waves too?"

"No," we replied, turning back to face the dirt road ahead. "No, there are not ... But as a general rule, most other lands have their own hidden villages where shinobi clans reside. And just like with Konoha, for most countries, hidden villages serve a militant purpose. Mostly mercenary work given their relationships with their host countries, but in the end, they also fill more patriotic roles as well. For example, they maintain the integrity of the territorial borders of the country they reside in. Intelligence and counter-intelligence activities are handled mostly by them. So is espionage, anti-terrorism, power projection, state defence, internal security, and the like."

We shot the girl a side glance, and as expected her face was scrunched up in confusion.

"You find it strange that the Land of the Waves does not possess a ninja village of its own despite the apparent necessity?"

She nodded, a blush staining her face.

"Well, you might have not heard it yet, but there is a widely-accepted myth amongst low-level shinobi and civilian circles as to why Waves, and other minor nations like it, do not have hidden villages. In a nutshell, some claim that small island nations that are isolated and already hard to invade would find no use for a shinobi village. Deliberately misleading information of course. And before you ask how I know this, I want you to ask yourself; do those minor nations have a choice as to whether or not they host a shinobi village?"

"...A choice?"

"Yes. A choice. Do you think that if a shinobi clan decides today that they want to set up shop in the Land of the Waves and declare their hidden village, the civilian government can just say no and that would be the end of it? I will tell you now, if such a government is not erased and replaced with a puppet regime before the end of the first day a clan decides to take over, I would be very much surprised."

Sakura frowned, her expression ponderous.

"But why then?" Kakashi interrupted, his voice filling the silence between us. We glanced at the silver-haired man standing beside us with one brow raised in askance. Annoyed. Ahead of us, Naruto stuttered in confusion as the inane argument he had been having with the Jōnin came to a jarring end with Kakashi's sudden departure. The two had been conversing quite animately earlier; for the man to react to our claims in such a visceral manner…

Hmm…

"If it's so easy for a shinobi village to take over these island nations why haven't they done so already?" Kakashi continued. "Also, if that's the case, what is stopping Konoha, or any of the other shinobi villages for that matter, from removing the Daimyō from power and simply taking over the rest of the country?"

We turned our gaze towards Sakura who waited expectantly for our response.

Should we, we wondered to ourself, weighing the tactical cost of divulging our thoughts on this matter against the micro-reactions we would be able to glean from the Jōnin should we continue?

"It would disrupt the balance of power," we eventually said, deciding on a middle ground. The allure of mining data proved to be too strong to resist. Letting the Jōnin have a bit of censored data should not hurt our plans too much. Besides, what we stood to get in return should more than cover the cost. As we spoke we reallocated the majority of our senses to observing the Jōnin. His pulse, muscle contractions, the minute eddies in his chakra pool, and even the composition of his sweat; all became crystal clear to our perception.

As we spoke, our secondary brain―a super dense cluster of neurons tucked away behind our T2 to T7 vertebrae―worked hard at deciphering the stream of data we were feeding it. It took us three years of diligent observation, studying how mammalian brains matured and what biological processes needed to be stimulated to mimic its growth before we could even begin to grow a rudimentary version of it in our body. To say it was an outstanding success would be the understatement of the century.

And it hadn't even fully matured yet.

"None of the other shinobi villages would tolerate the rise of another," we said. "Especially not in a location of strategic importance. The Land of the Waves sits beside some of the most important shipping lanes in this geographic region. Allowing a foreign power to control it in any capacity would be the height of foolishness for both Konohagakure's and Kirigakure's leadership. Our current mission is a clear example of that; did you think the Hokage authorised an investigation into the death of the owner of the Gatō company for monetary compensation alone? We were told in clear terms that this mission request came from the Daimoyo himself. For the Daimoyo to be involved in anything at all means certain national interests are at risk. A shift in the power balance of the Land of the Waves could have far-reaching implications for us here in the Land of Fire, hence a need for direct intervention on our part.

"And as for why the third Hokage isn't the one ruling the Land of Fire. Again, such an endeavour would disrupt the balance of power between the shinobi villages. Long ago, the first Hokage made the mistake of forcing Konoha and the other villages to hand over control of the state to civilian governments. Now, with how power has consolidated, it would cost too much for any one Kage to revert these changes on their own; unless of course, the five Kages all agree to a non-intervention pact that would allow them to individually do as they please. But that in itself is impossible as I see no way all five Kages would agree to what would be tantamount to destroying the free market and allowing any of their rivals the chance to corner a more lucrative portion of the Shinobi Military Complex. The risk is simply too much, especially for the hidden villages whose host countries are much weaker economically compared to hegemons like the Land of Fire.

"Also, remember that civilians aren't entirely powerless, nor are they short on alternatives should the hidden villages reveal any expansionist ambitions. Samurai and non-affiliated shinobi clans still exist, some of whom are loyal to them as per long-standing traditional values. There are also Mercenary-nin, crime syndicates, and other similar groups to consider. And if one even decides to ignore all of this, they still have to remember that the Daimyōs control their respective countries' economies; control that would take months to subvert even if they are assassinated or removed from power.

"Does that answer your question, Kakashi-sensei?"

"...Yes," the man said after a brief pause, his expression ponderous.

"Yo! What rubbish are you rambling about, Sasuke?" Naruto intoned, his eyes squinted in confusion. Beside us, we felt Sakura's blood pressure flare up as she geared to rise―rather violently―to our defence. It was almost comical the way these two always found even the most pointless things to bicker over.

Still, we loathe to allow them the privilege to do as they please on this mission. It's best we ingrain in their subconscious now that B-rank assignments and above are assignments during which lollygagging and similar distractions would not be tolerated under any circumstances.

We let our left hand come to rest on Sakura's shoulder, kneading the soft mass of muscle gently. The girl blushed, her eminent outburst receding near-instantaneously. To Naruto, we shot a placating smile.

"It's nothing important," we told him.

And that was the end of it.

"Wow," the demon container said in awe. "This is some fog. I can barely see a thing."

"We'll be able to see a bridge in a minute," our porter commented from the rear end of the canoe.

"A bridge?" Sakura asked, staring at a map she just pulled from her pouch in confusion. "But there are no bridges in this region on my map. Was it constructed recently?"

"Yes," the porter replied. "Although, all construction on it has been halted since the disappearance of the architect in charge of its construction. On the other side of it is the Land of Waves; had it been completed it would have connected Waves to the Land of Fire."

"...This architect," Kakashi asked suddenly, "was his name Tazuna?"

"Yes. You know him?" the porter asked surprised.

"...Who is Tazuna?" Sakura asked. Kakashi sighed in response, dragging his fingers down the length of his face.

"After we were issued this mission, the Hokage briefed me on all the other mission requests that were issued in the past six months and were in any way related to the Land of Waves. A while before the Chūnin exams, this architect, Tazuna, filed a request to Konoha. He claimed he had delicate documents and needed escorts to protect him from a group of thugs along the border who had a penchant for rough-housing. It was supposed to be a simple C-rank escort mission, but the Chūnin leading the team charged with his request discovered the architect was not perfectly honest when he made his request and decided to cut him loose."

"They abandoned their client?" Naruto exclaimed, aghast.

Kakashi shook his head gently in response. "I cannot blame them," he said, placing one hand on the blonde's head. "The architect was the target for an assassination request, apparently issued by Mr Gatō of the Gatō company. Also, when the first assassin struck, one of the Genin on the team was badly injured; to make matters worse, the blade that caused the injury was poisoned, meaning she had to be brought back to receive medical attention. There was no way the team leader was going to continue on a non-essential mission he felt exceeded his squad's capability."

"So… Tazuna is dead?" the porter asked. He seemed to be well acquainted with this architect given how dark his expression had turned. Kakashi said nothing in reply.

His silence was all we needed to hear.

022 - The Mission {PT. II}

THE LAND OF WAVE

"Just to be on the safe side," Our porter said, "we'll take an inland waterway through town to a point where we can make landfall under the cover of mangroves. Gatō might be missing―hopefully, dead―but his men are still very much a menace in this parts. Given there is no one to pay them anymore, and the Gatō shipping company lies in shambles after being looted in its owner's absence, those miscreants have turned to extortion to get by. I am guessing you lot would prefer to enter unnoticed. Should they find us, they might try to cause trouble and raise a ruckus, so this should probably be for the best."

"Thank you," Kakashi replied. We navigated our way through the waterway and mangroves before arriving at a small fishing shack fifteen minutes later.

"This is as far as I go," the porter said bringing the canoe to port by a wooden jetty. We bid our farewells before departing to make our way into the town.

"Where are we going to now, Kakashi-sensei?" Sakura asked.

"Well, apparently, this Tazuna fellow had a daughter and grandson," the Jōnin replied. "Why don't we find them first? They might have some valuable information that they might be willing to share."

With a goal decided we entered the town. It was a rather disappointing sight.

The Land of Wave stood in stark contrast to Konoha and the rest of the Land of Fire. As we navigated the filthy, winding streets and alleyways that led to what would have been a market square, we were immediately struck by the squalor and poverty that pervaded every corner. The buildings were dilapidated, with roofs that leaked and walls that were crumbling and covered in a revolting layer of grime. The paths were muddy and filled with garbage; the horrid stench of weeks-old sewage and rotting food overpowering.

It was a slum crowded with families crammed into small, one-room hovels. Children ran around barefoot and half-clothed, their faces dirty and their bellies empty. One managed to summon the courage to approach us, tugging on the helm of our kimono. We flashed a smile at the unfortunate creature before dropping a handful of sweets in his filthy, outstretched hand.

A haggard-looking man walked past us carrying a cardboard sign that read, "will do any job you want". Another raced past, clutching a loaf of bread to his chest as he made to escape his pursuers. "Stop him! Thief!" came panicked shouts from behind but nobody made to intervene; a rather regular occurrence it was if one went by the reaction of the general public.

"What is wrong with this place?" Sakura whispered under her breath as we entered a grocery store.

"It's been like this that accursed Gatō first arrived," the store owner said to her, lamenting. He was an old fellow, his visage weathered by the passage of time. We turned to face him, although our attention remained fixed on the group of thugs that observed us from outside the store. Hopefully, they were not stupid enough to try to harass a group such as ours.

"We've become a city of cowards, slackers and fools," the old geezer continued, before shaking his head as if coming to his senses. "Nevermind me, younguns. You probably don't want to be bored by the ramblings of an old fool. What do you want to buy?"

Our gaze panned across the scanty store. Even the little produce that did sit on the shelves has started to show signs of age. Any longer and they wouldn't be fit for public consumption.

"We'll like a few vegetables," we told the man. Our teammates turned to face us, confused. We favoured them an empty smile in response. No need to explain every little thing to them. They had brains of their own which they soon had better learn to use.

"Which ones?" the store owner asked. We pointed at a bunch of the more expensive ones that were obviously struggling to find buyers. As the old man packed our order we tried to lull him back into a conversation. It took a while before we could ease up naturally into inquiring about our secondary targets, but eventually, we got there.

"Oh, Tazuna's family?" the geezer said as he received our payment. "You mean Tsunami and little Inari? Yes, I know where they live."

We received our target's address and decided to make our way there immediately. Kakashi sent a clone to deal with the thugs that were tailing us, while we made a small detour on Sakura's request. A portion of the goods we purchased ended up in the hands of the children that approached us earlier, but we were back on track soon after.

Thirty minutes later we arrived at the address we received from the storekeeper. But while we did find our targets, we stumbled on a little problem.

"Stay away from my family!" the lady we identified as Tazuna's daughter, Tsunami, snarled her expression a rictus of rage and loathing. Peeking out from behind her was a small child. It stared at us, its gaze blank. We stared back into the void that was its soul. In its depths we found a sliver of emotion so pure and innocent, yet so ripe with hate. It intrigued us.

What a beautiful thing we found.

Getting Kakashi's permission to conduct an investigation independently was much easier than we expected.

Suspiciously so.

As we predicted, the Jōnin sent a shadow clone to tail us from a distance he probably assumed was discrete. It took about fifteen minutes to shake off that tail; Kakashi's clone continued on, shadowing the clone we tasked with infiltrating the skeletal remains of the Gatō shipping company.

With that dealt with, and the rest of our team distracted with their own tasks, we made our way back to Tazuna's domicile. We snuck past a catatonic Tsunami, and up a flight of stairs, before arriving at a quaint, little room. The door was locked from the inside, but a subtle flare of our chakra opened the mundane mechanism. It creaked as it swung open to reveal a diminutive figure seated by the window, staring out at the sea outside.

We stood there in silence, observing the child. Yes, we thought to ourself. We had found it. The perfect vessel.

As if sensing our ill intent, the boy turned to look at us. His placid expression didn't deform in surprise nor did shock flash through his gaze. Serene.

"Why?" the boy asked. We cocked our head in confusion.

"Why did they have to die?" he repeated.

Our Sharingan swirled into. In mere moments, our chakra wormed its way through the boy's brain as we read his surface thoughts. Names appeared. Tazuna… Kaiza… Our mind whirred, as hundreds of logical deductions were made in milliseconds. Fatherly figures. Both deceased. Suffering cognitive dissonance. Mental stability: Poor. Strategic value: bullish by seventy-eight per cent.

We blinked, our Sharingan disappearing from view.

"They were weak," we told him. "You were weak."

The boy blinked. Then his gaze swivelled towards the door. "Will Mama die too?" he asked.

"Probably," we told him. "She is also weak."

He fell silent for a moment. Then his gaze rose to meet ours. "You are scary," he said. "Strong. You can protect Mama?"

"Yes. Easily."

"Will you?"

"For a price, yes."

"...What do you want?" he asked us.

We smiled.

"Your soul."

023 - The Mission {PT. III}

THE LAND OF WAVE

Tsunami wasn't too happy to find us alone with her son. It took a bit of effort, but we managed to convince her to sit down for a conversation.

"You want to be Inari's guardian?" she asked confused. She stared at us her eyes squinted in suspicion. "How old are you? Sixteen? Seventeen? Aren't you too young to be considering becoming someone else's guardian?"

"Thirteen actually," we told her. The woman blinked, nonplussed. We shot her a reassuring smile. "But that shouldn't be a problem, no?"

"Thirteen? Are you joking? I will have you know young man, this is not the time for jokes."

We waved her off. "My age isn't important," we told her. "What is important is Inari's well-being going forward. Your son and I have spoken at length already. He spoke to me about Kaiza and what happened to him. And as I am sure you are aware, I suspect your father, Tazuna, has suffered a similar fate. I would prefer such misfortune does not befall the boy as well."

"...Inari spoke to you about Kaiza?" Tsunami asked, her bewildered gaze swivelling to match her son's blank ones.

"Yes." That was a lie of course, but, at this point, we doubted the boy would tattle on us.

"I hope you don't mind?"

"...No. No. Not at all." The woman fell silent for a few moments before turning to face us again. "What exactly would your guardianship entail?" she asked.

"Monetary support for feeding and clothing, as well as education," we replied. "Also, I would be leaving a clone behind to protect you two and oversee his education."

"...That's generous," she replied hesitantly. Confused. "Thank you."

"It's no problem," we said as we made to leave. "Oh, and due to the need for discretion, I will have an alibi created for the clone. An old friend of Kaiza, or brother, most probably. That shouldn't be too suspicious. He will arrive a few days later and take up residence with you two. Just act natural when he gets here; it's likely your house would be under observation for a while, so try not to give us away."

"...I understand."

We turned to face Inari who was staring at us unblinkingly. "Be good, ok," we told the boy, patting his head dotingly. "I am here now. No one would hurt you or your Mama ever again, I promise."

Reattaching our tail proved much harder than discarding it.

In hindsight, it was a bit of a tactical error to not send a clone to Tazuna's domicile instead, but the insurance offered by our main body was too much to ignore for a task of such importance. Either way, duping Kakashi's shadow was not impossible; just very problematic.

We returned to the rendezvous point Kakashi decided on earlier without further incident. And guessing from Naruto's countenance, they had made significant progress in their investigation.

"That Gatō bastard!" the blonde scowled as he and Sakura entered the clearing. Kakashi trailed behind them reading that novel of his, apparently unbothered by Naruto's tantrum. In the distance, we felt his clone dispel, and almost simultaneously the Jōnin's gaze flickered to meet ours.

"How did your mission go, Sasuke?" he asked us.

"Productive," we replied. "We were able to narrow down the description of the ninjas hired to assassinate that architect. Missing-nin from Kirigakure most likely. Although, they would have most likely erased their tracks by now given their employer is dead."

Kakashi nodded, still reading his book. "Well, that concludes our investigation. We found an unmarked grave a few kilometres northeast of here. The corpse buried in it matched Gatō's description. From what we heard about their relationship, the missing-nin he hired was most likely responsible for his death. Probably after he tried to swindle them out of their fee … That Gatō fellow was a really nasty one. Drug peddling? Human trafficking?"

Kakashi sighed as he shook his head, finally putting his book away.

"What do we do now, Kakashi-sensei?" Sakura asked.

"We'll wait a bit longer to see if anything else pops up before returning to the village to give our report."

"...Are we just going to leave these people like this?" Naruto asked, aghast. "After everything that bastard Gatō has done here?!"

"No, Naruto," Kakashi said, ruffling his hair. "We are going back to the village to inform the Hokage about this matter so more tangible aid can be sent over. We cannot just simply decide to take action; as Sasuke mentioned earlier, there is a balance of power we must respect. The local lords must be informed and the Daimyō has to be carried along if we are going to be able to effectively help these people. Do you understand, Naruto?"

"...Yes, Kakashi-sensei."

We arrived back in the Land of Fire three weeks later, our mission a partial success. The missing-nin responsible for Gatō's murder remains unknown but from his description, Kakashi claimed to have a few suspects in mind. Overall our first B-rank mission ended on a positive note, tactically at least. We suffered no losses and completed our main objective without any incidents. However, our teammates, naively, would beg to differ.

Either way, their thoughts on the matter didn't matter. We adjusted our backpack as we neared Konoha's main gate. There was so much to do and so little ti—

We froze.

"Sasuke?" Kakashi called, turning to face us, his brow crooked in confusion.

We ignored him, letting our backpack slide off our shoulders as we blurred into motion, covering swathes of land in a blink of an eye as we homed unto a familiar chakra signature. A smouldering emotion flared to life in our soul.

Loathing.

The weasel turned to face us, its brow arched in surprise.

"Who is the brat?" the one standing beside the accursed creature asked. It stood nonchalantly, seemingly unbothered by our arrival. Both wore black cloaks with images of red clouds scattered across the surface. The weasel's partner carried on his shoulder a strange blade; it was wrapped in bandages and bore a unique aura. Sentience? It didn't matter.

Our attention returned to the weasel. "...Sasuke," it exhaled, favouring us an expressionless stare.

Two things happened next:

Our chakra churned.

All hell broke loose.

024 - Sibling Squabbles

KONOHA

We tore through the tri-layered Genjutsu the weasel weaved with contemptuous ease. In mere milliseconds we were standing before him stabbing towards his guts with a kunai. We formed a one-handed sign, our already halved chakra pool splitting four ways as two more shadow clones peeled off from our back. Halfway formed, with only their upper halves sticking out of our waist, one clone raised a kunai to intercept the massive blade cleaving towards our back while the other formed a series of hand signs. The weasel caught our blade with a kunai of his own as he stared down at us.

"Hello, Itachi," we said. Behind us, the weasel's accomplice stood in a deadlock with our still half-formed clone. The gilled fellow looked down in surprise at his feet where a mass of shadows anchored both him and the weasel firmly in place.

"Sorry about dragging you into this," we told him, his identity surfacing in our mind. "Kisame, right? I hope you don't mind if I and my brother catch up a little."

"...Yes," The missing-nin chuckled as he strained against our binds, staring straight into the eyes of our clone like a proper fool. "Itachi, you never told me you had a little brother. I thought you killed off your entire―"

"Kisame! Close your―" the weasel ordered. We smiled fondly.

It was already too late.

"Sōzōamatsukami: Yomi's Garden!"

Our right eye bled as reality sloughed away, a domain of deathly energies appearing in its place. Our celestial sharingan reappeared in the darkening sky above, glaring down at us. A heavy mist rose from the ground, weighing down our chakra. All around us, a forest of skeletal trees sprouted. The ground beneath our feet grew slick and crystalline, and the shadows lingering about swelled until they reached greatly exaggerated proportions.

Behind us, the missing-nin collapsed to the ground, limp. We ignored him, as we focused our attention on the weasel before us. "You resist," we said staring at the Mangekyō that spun placidly in his eyes. Tendrils of shadows slithered around Itachi's eyeball, holding it in place and preventing his eyelids from closing as we did with his partner prior.

Our smile returned. "Not for long though," we said. As long as we held eye contact our will would continue to grind away at his until eventually he too succumbed to his―

"Amaterasu!"

We flickered out of the way. The backlash from losing eye contact and forcibly dispelling Sōzōamatsukami struck us with the force of a descending asteroid. We gasped as we suppressed our lurching chakra, and it was only by the soundness of our mind that we noticed the infernal heat creeping up the length of our right arm. We looked down to see a mass of black flames burning away at the appendage. Our chakra cycled in a bid to dispel the flames, but that only sped up its combustion. We raised our left hand, moulding a blade of chakra in our palm before bringing it down on the burning arm.

It fell to the ground with a muted thud.

A shame…

With that temporarily dealt with we looked up at the weasel with our good eye, half-blind in the other. Itachi, again, tried to weave Genjutsu, and again, we slapped it away with contemptuous ease. His exhaustion was apparent.

So was ours. More so than his. But it wasn't over yet… we hoped.

*BOOM!*

The tree behind the weasel exploded into a cloud of smouldering sawdust from where Kakashi's attack struck. The Jonin was thrown off target by an illusion, his lightning-coated palm striking just mere inches from the weasel's head.

Itachi stared at him in the eye with contempt.

We sighed. It was foolish to expect otherwise.

"Tsukuyomi!" declared the kin-slayer. In front of him, Kakashi shuddered, falling to his knees seconds later, panting as he tried to resist the effects of the Jutsu afflicted upon him. A familiar curse. We remember how poorly we fared against it years prior. The Jonin was a lost cause; we could already feel his chakra waning.

"W-what do you want?" Kakashi asked.

The weasel gave no reply. Carefully, he lifted his stricken colleague onto his shoulder before turning to leave.

"...Next time I find," we rasped before he could flee again like the pathetic creature he was, "I will kill you."

The weasel paused but again said nothing as he walked away, melting into the forest shadows.

Gone.

We didn't try to stop him. Rather, we couldn't. Our muscles were locked up from overexertion and our chakra coils burned in pain. Any more, and we would be unable to defend ourself should the need arise. Our shortsightedness cost us dearly, we would not dare let it do so again. By our feet, what remained of our right arm was slowly consumed by the fire.

The flames showed no signs of abating, our living flesh turned into tinder. Fuel.

"...Well. That was impulsive," we sighed, berating ourself.

025 - Aftermath

KONOHA

As we lay on the hospital bed, staring up at the spinning blades of the ceiling fan above, we couldn't help but think back to a better time. To the days we spent in a ponderous haze, contemplating the meaning of life. Introspective existentialism, the essence of our mortal existence, and the irrationality of the physical laws that governed this plane. These amongst other mundane thoughts we mulled on ceaselessly, day in, day out. To put it in a few words, we lived a happy, carefree existence.

In hindsight, we also realise the role we played in the destruction of our clan…

The signs were there. They always were. Only, we were too distracted by our fears—or worse—our egocentric self-indulgence, to act on them. The political neutering of our clan. The bigotry of Konoha's topmost authorities. The segregation and ghettoization of our people. The prejudice, discrimination, and antagonism. The marginalization. Racism ... Stereotyping and unfair bias … Political oppression…

These all culminated in the eventual slaughter of every Uchiha man, woman and child. In more specific terms, a wanton genocide—engineered simply because mass murdering dissidents of the state who wished to be freed of decades of oppression is a just and noble cause!

Let's not forget the butchering of the corpses of our people for their body parts. We can't let those go to waste, can we now? If our allies-of-convenience speak the truth, Danzo Shimura, a prominent member of Konoha's esteemed council is currently in possession of a startling number of harvested Sharingans. Which, of course, he puts to use for the greater good of Konoha. A much nobler alternative than their original owners ever could conceive perhaps? As for what this greater good entails specifically, we struggled to comprehend.

In our haste to condemn the enemy, let's not forget the suspicions that in some hidden ROOT repository were hidden vats containing other valuable Uchiha body parts stored for further research into the nature of the Sharingan.

…Quaint.

Orochimaru had proven himself a useful tool, having helpfully handed over a copy of the Konoha's classified log books dating back to its inception—a few amongst other secret documents gifted to us in a show of goodwill. If one could read between the lines, they proved impossibly valuable in shedding more light on the true extent of the injustice afflicted upon the Uchiha clan.

A quick summary of this would begin with Madara gullibly agreeing to a worthless peace treaty that bound the Uchiha to the Senju. From then on the Uchiha would be subjected to one nefarious scheme after another, time and time again. First, in small doses, taking the form of dog-whistling campaigns pioneered by one Tobirama Senju to foster subconscious fear towards the clan—something about a "curse of hatred" apparently. Then to include covert plays to limit the Uchiha's political influence.

Once the haze clouding his vision cleared, Madara Uchiha would confront Hashirama Senju—then leader of the Senju clan—regarding this matter. There were few detailed records as to what transpired between the two following their altercation, but it wasn't hard to deduce. In a fit, Madara abandons the clan, striking out on his own before later being killed by Hashirama who aimed to maintain a status quo skewered in favour of his own. The rest of the Uchiha proved too short-sighted to realise the trap they willingly walked into. They could hardly be faulted though. Weariness had clouded their judgement. They wished not for another war to break out.

How ironic, we scoffed inwardly. A clan touted to bear a sinister curse that forces them to lose all reason and indulge in obscene atrocities, even to the extent of kin-slaying, willingly chooses to avoid conflict with their once sworn enemy… at their detriment! How ironic indeed!

Soon came the blatant and near-complete violation of the agreement that culminated in the creation of the Hidden Leaf. The Uchihas were removed from society and cast out to the fringes of the village: Apparently, because the only thing they were good at was manning a toothless police force that couldn't even protect its members and their families from constant state-sanctioned surveillance, discrimination and isolation!

We sighed. It was tiring to think about these things. We would much rather watch paint dry than do so; at least we might achieve some measure of epiphany that would deepen our connection to this realm in the process. Our reminiscence would only fuel the rage smouldering in our soul. An emotion too potent for the human mind to even begin to bear. We could feel it ageing our mortal shell, killing it ever so slowly.

But our failure yesterday was too great a blow to ignore. It mired our thoughts, grasping at them and weighing them down like some infernal, sentient tar. And to be honest we might not be too far off from reality… Though it would be discourteous of us to birth an entity of such nature in a dimension we sought to claim as our own.

Experience has proven that our progeny weren't the most… reasonable sorts you see. Hopefully, Inari would prove him useful in that regard.

But we digress.

To be frank we couldn't less what the humans did to each other. If they believed conflict and sadism were their only true love then we wished them good luck in that regard. Since time immemorial we've learnt it was better to leave mortals, regardless of form, to their infantile devices than interfere and risk having our own plans thrown off course.

But then again, to inflict such atrocities on mortals we had taken a liking to?

The gall!

The room we were placed in was empty, but we could sense multiple chakra signatures observing us from a distance. As predicted, the intensity of the surveillance allocated towards us had drastically increased. This was undoubtedly a result of the misgivings Konoha's leadership had in regard to the authenticity of the report we gave on the incident with the weasel.

For one, we refused to surrender certain key details regarding our confrontation. There was no way we would provide an enemy with such vital intelligence. The fact that we refused to grant permission for Inoichi to peruse our memories wasn't helping our cause either.

There was also the fact that our handler, Kakashi, was currently in a Mangekyo-induced coma. This only served to further implicate us. It was only natural for them to connect the dots and assume us to be responsible after all.

In short, the tension that existed between us and the council had risen to an all-time high, and conversely so had their brazenness when relating with us. It was a situation that was not at all conducive to our plans.

A sigh escaped our maw again. The emotion came quite easily to us it seemed.

Aside from the impulsive decision to attack the weasel, we could hardly be faulted for how things turned out. By the time Konoha's forces arrived to investigate the commotion on their borders, the weasel had long disappeared and our discarded arm had been thoroughly consumed by the black flames. There was little concrete evidence left to clear us of suspicion.

We looked down at the bandaged stump where our right arm used to be. Had we been a regular shinobi, our prospects as a ninja would have been thoroughly obliterated by the loss. For us though, it would likely amount to a major inconvenience that would further hinder our plans. We ran a quick mental simulation of our battle with the Jinchūriki from Sunakagure, only this time in our current state. In the end, with all estimations and available data taken into consideration, we came to the conclusion that we had more or less suffered a sixty per cent loss in combat effectiveness. Quite dreadful news as one could imagine.

So, in summary, in exchange for terminating the weasel's partner—a nonentity in the grand scheme of things—and inflicting negligible damage to our intended target itself, we were now half-blind in one eye, missing an arm, and liable to suffer further strategic setbacks in the face of Konoha's impending retaliation.

It appears we are overdue for a comprehensive revision of our notes on battlefield economics.

If that wasn't a poor trade then we couldn't say what was…

026 - Her Blushing Bride

KONOHA

"...Is it true?" Ino asked behind her. Sakura looked up, her gaze rising from the potted flowers by her feet to regard the pale-faced blonde. The Yamanaka scion was panting, sweat beading her face; they must have turned her back at the hospital as well.

"Sakura!" Ino called again, this time managing to break her from the trance she found herself in. Sakura's distracted gaze finally managed to focus on her rival's worried visage, tears brimming her eyes.

"Yes," came Sakura's monosyllabic response. Her throat felt sore and dry, rasping even with this single word she uttered. The despair in her heart shone through even her stone-faced facade.

Crippled. Her beloved. Crippled.

A line of tears ran down her right cheek, mirroring Ino's. She wiped it stoically. He disliked tears, Sakura remembered, a sad smile gracing her face at the thought of him intimately breathing down her neck about how undignified they were.

She turned back to the flowers at her feet. "It's bad luck to buy a potted plant for someone who's in the hospital," she ground out, managing to force the words out of her mouth. "Cut flowers are a better choice. Which ones should I get?"

Ino said nothing. For a few ominous moments, the blonde gave no reaction. Then, suddenly, she stepped forward.

"A daffodil?" Sakura whispered as she gently pried the flower from the other girl's hand. A smile blossomed on her face.

"It's perfect. Thank—" A surprisingly smothering hug from Ino interrupted her, forcing the air out of her lungs. Sakura looked down to see the girl she had dreamed of triumphing over for years now sobbing into the crook of her neck.

Vulnerable.

Sakura's hand hesitantly rose to the blonde's back as she reciprocated the hug. The feeling of Ino's shudders reverberating through her body thawed something in her heart. She found hot tears running down her face. She wiped them, but they proved persistent.

I am not crying... No! I am not! Sasuke wouldn't like that… It would be undignified.

"...Why do boys do this?" she asked her companion. "Why do they always hurt us so?.."

"How would I know?" Ino whispered. "I'm a girl too, you know…"

"...Sorry."

Sasuke sat on the windowsill, dressed in a patient gown, one leg dangling languidly in the air from where it hung on the ledge. Her beloved stared out at the village outside, his thoughts undiscernible through his placid visage. His left hand toyed with an ink brush with which he scribbled down those indecipherable notes of his on a tiny notebook on his lap. Where his right hand ought to be the voluminous sleeves of his garment collapsed into itself.

Sakura's breath stuttered as she observed him. As usual, he seemed utterly unconcerned about the world around him. An unnatural calmness. Like a mountain or a great beast at rest. He appeared ominously unconcerned about the loss of his appendage. Regal, with a subtle divinity about his aura…

Majestic.

Beside her, Ino's feet shuffled on the tiled floor. The girl appeared unsure whether or not to approach him. As if sensing her discomfort, Sasuke's limpid gaze slowly panned to regard them. A gentle smile curled at the edges of his pink, sugary lips. A careless beauty.

"You came," he intoned. Sakura's bones turned soft at the sound of his voice. Ino didn't seem to be faring any better. "Thank you."

"...I-it's not a p-problem, Sasuke," Sakura replied. She shook her head to get the stutter out of her voice. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," came his reply. "I should be able to return to doing missions in a few days… Assuming Kakashi-sensei gets any better that is."

What?

Her mind short-circuited. Missions? What about your arm? she whispered, tears threatening to stain her face again.

Her fool-hardly flame smile turned fond as if he could hear her thoughts. Then he appeared before her, his face inches from hers.

"I might not be able to use ninjutsu anymore, but I am still more of a threat to your generic shinobi than you are at the moment."

She blinked and he was again seated at the windowsill, a small smile still gracing his lips. She couldn't say for sure whether or not he moved or what she saw now was just a Genjutsu. Abruptly, Sakura felt herself a fool. Here she was worrying about Sasuke's future when even while deprived of an arm he remained leagues ahead of her in possibly everything but ninjutsu.

Still, a relieved sigh vented from her chest and she found herself looking at him in a new light.

Such fortitude of mind…

It ignited a new feeling in her heart. The flames of her adoration of him blazed even stronger than ever before and she fell in love anew.

"...We brought you flowers," Ino managed, subconsciously falling back to her old habit of not wanting to get sidelined in Sasuke's presence. Despite this though, Sakura couldn't find it in her to get irked at the blonde. A fond smile blossomed on her face.

"Dandelion?" Sasuke asked, gently collecting the flowers from Ino. Despite her change of heart, Sakura could not completely suppress her twitching brow as the blonde purposefully went out of her way to run her fingers against Sasuke's. Her beloved didn't react, probably oblivious to Ino's advances. Sadly, he seemed quite dense in matters of… that nature.

I have to protect him from these minxes at all costs! Sakura resolved in her heart, watching as Sasuke sniffed the flowers.

"Y-yes," Ino stuttered.

"...Beautiful even in the dead of winter," Sasuke whispered. "Patiently waiting for spring without the cold. Thank you. Both of you."

The room fell silent.

"...What?" Sasuke asked, apparently confused.

"...How do you know that verse?" Ino asked, stunned. Sakura could not keep the surprise off her face either.

Sasuke's expression froze. He flashed an embarrassed smile which he promptly hid with a cough. "...A poem?" he said hesitantly, moments later.

…A lie, Sakura realised. A flimsy lie!

Her eyes widened as a strange epiphany befell her. She could not stop the torrent of giggles that poured out of her mouth. Neither could Ino, it seemed. Sasuke scratched the side of his cheek, his onyx eyes flickering to the side nervously.

She didn't think it was possible. A blushing Sasuke?

How utterly absurd…

027 - S-rank

KONOHA

"You still engage in such frivolous activities?" came a voice behind him. Jiraiya turned around to regard the newcomers.

"If it isn't old man Homura and mistress Koharu…" he drawled as his attention returned to the gaggle of women bathing a few blocks away. A perverse smile blossomed at the edges of his lips as a disturbing giggle escaped his mouth.

"A maturity befitting your stature would do you a whole lot of good, Jiraiya" Koharu muttered, her wrinkly face contorted in disapproval.

Jiraiya sighed in response. "And just what business do the chief counsellors have with me?" he asked, putting his binoculars away.

"What business, you ask?" Homura replied. "You ought to know without me having to spell it out."

"...Is this about that Uchiha boy? I don't see how it concerns me."

"Oh, but it does," the older man replied. "Your sensei's reluctance to deal with him resolutely is causing all sorts of issues for the leaf. The vile Uchiha spawn might deny it, but the evil in his heart is clear for all to see. He hides behind his clan's name, evading the swift justice he rightfully deserves."

"...I still don't see how this matter concerns me."

The pair fell silent, their thoughts, for a moment, a mystery to him. Then Koharu spoke. "Find Tsunade," the woman said. "She's the only one capable of freeing Hatake of the vile technique inflicted upon him by the boy. When he comes through and testifies against the Uchiha before the council, I imagine Sarutobi would be hard-pressed to remain insistent on ignoring the danger the boy poses"

Jiraiya mulled on this for a few moments. Then he sighed, massaging his temple in exasperation. "Fine! I'll track her down and bring her back. Would that be acceptable?"

"Very well. We shall attach three ANBU black ops to you for—"

"That won't be necessary. Don't worry, I swear I won't run away. I don't need chaperones. Besides, I already have someone in mind to take along with me on this mission..."

Sarutobi leafed the ANBU reports on his desk. The documents had been meticulously compiled for a bit over seven years now. Hence, it made little sense for the reports to look so scanty—the fact that the majority of the operational data they had was gathered in the past six months did no favours to the logical credence surrounding the matter. It was unnatural how little valuable information those seasoned operatives had managed to gather on the enigmatic Uchiha scion. One would assume that one so young would be a treasure trove of information, but here Sarutobi found that his Konoha's ANBU couldn't even categorically confirm what Sasuke's favourite food was…

Absurd.

The boy was a literal information black hole. One from which ABSOLUTELY nothing of significant value ever comes out.

Last he heard, Inoichi had made some significant progress in decoding the boy's cyphers… from six years ago. The most recent ones still appear to be beyond their ability to crack even with the aid of computers built specifically for decoding the boy's work. The gloom that hung over the heads of the members of the analysis team had not abated in years now. A few even transferred out of the department entirely in frustration. For the ones that remained, finding out that the encrypted document they worked on for years contained entirely mundane things—from absurdly detailed research into what colour combination went best with his eyes, to which girl in his academy class he deemed the most "scientifically attractive"—was a blow too great on their collective egos.

Predictably, a petition was filed by Inoichi to cancel the operation. Sarutobi could not tell for certain whether it was the fact that so many resources had been sunk into what turned out to be a pointless endeavour, or the fact that his daughter's name appeared in one too many sections no father would be comfortable seeing associated with their only child, that prompted the decision. Either way, Sarutobi had been perfectly willing to approve the cancelling operation…

…Only the backlash from the rest of his council forced him to do the opposite thing. That is sinking even more funds and personnel into decrypting what might be, at the end of the day, a diary. A strange, oddly formal diary, but a diary nonetheless.

Homura and Koharu were very much convinced that proof of Uchiha Sasuke's treachery existed somewhere in those pages, and Hiruzen had no doubt in his mind that the two were put up to this by Danzo.

Ah… How troublesome…

Heaving another sigh, he caressed his temple. At least it wasn't a total loss. The fact they were able to crack the cypher meant they would be able to recreate it. Inoichi apparently felt no shame in stealing the boy's work and creating a training program on how exactly it worked for the ANBU and his department. A cypher able to stymie Konoha's entire intelligence department for six years was not something he dared turn his nose up at. As for why they didn't just adapt it directly?

Answer: Uchiha Sasuke.

Obviously, it would be foolish to use something the boy created and not expect he would have a field day with it the moment he is given the opportunity. Regardless of what Sarutobi might feel regarding the matter, Uchiha Sasuke was still an entity under suspicion in the eyes of the state.

Sarutobi read through the rest of the reports before setting them aside. He rose from his seat, smoothing out his robes as he made his way outside. He felt tired.

Really tired. And old. Yes… old.

"Where is Gai?" he asked out loud.

A figure flickered into view. A weal-like scar on the face, running across the bridge of his nose and down across the left side of his face. Brown spiky hair. Dark eyes.

Raidō Namiashi of the Hokage Guard Platoon

"Reporting! Might Guy was last spotted engaging in a training exercise with his students at Training Ground twenty-three, Hokaga-sama," the elite bodyguard replied.

"...Summon him please," Sarutobi replied.

"Yes. Hokage-sama."

Guy appeared before Hiruzen in a cyclone of swirling leaves. "Hokage-sama! You summoned me!" he said, his voice booming in the otherwise empty room.

"Yes," the Hokage replied. "I have a mission for you."

"I am all ears, Hokage-sama!"

"Good," Hiruzen nodded, his gaze turning thoughtful. "...How acquainted are you with Uchiha Sasuke?"

"Not very sir!"

"I see… Either way, we would just have to make do. I would be placing the boy temporarily on your team, at least until either Kakashi or Lee gets better. Your mission is to gather as much information as you can reasonably gather about him. Anything thing at all of value would really help me to determine the next steps to take regarding this matter."

Hiruzen reached for a small booklet and a scroll on his desk before tossing them to the Jonin. "The booklet was Kakashi's. It contained what information he had gleaned since being assigned to Team Seven. The scroll on the other hand contains all the details you need to be aware of to conduct your investigation… safely. Any questions?"

"Yes, Hokage-sama," Guy replied, his voice growing atypically quieter. "Why am I being paid 2,000,000 ryō to spy on a thirteen-year-old?"

"Most of it is hazard pay," Hiruzen replied grimly. "There are suspicions that the boy is responsible for Kakashi's current state. There's a reason the mission was upgraded from B to S-rank after all. So, please, be careful…

"Very careful."

"...Understood, Hokage-sama."

028 - The Ego

THE LAND OF WAVES

He was an Ego.

Upon his descent into his new vessel, the Prime E̡̲̗͇͋̀ͪ̐̈̆̌͐̕͞g̜͈͉͎͍ͤ͆ͦoͥ̀̊́̕ deemed it fitting to bestow upon him the name Jinrui.

Humanity.

A soft smile caressed his lips at the irony of the name. He was no human; that was for certain. He was not but a coalesced mass of chakra and the life essence of a living sacrifice. An improved iteration of the famed shadow clone:

A blood clone.

An Ego granted complete autonomy.

Jinrui stood barechested, dressed in faded jeans and a well-worn fishing hat, at the edge of a weathered pier jutting out into the vast expanse of the sea. The sound of gentle waves lapping against the wooden pillars filled the air, creating a soothing symphony that mingled with the rustling of nearby nipa palms.

To the outsider observed he would have appeared deeply engrossed in his task. And in some sense, that might have well been true. His large, calloused hands moved with purpose, deftly threading a fishing line through the eyelets of his trusty rod. Along the length of the beachline behind him, a dense thicket of mangrove trees stretched out like nature's sentinels, their gnarled roots reaching out from the muddy banks, interlacing with each other and creating a maze-like network. The mangroves stood as guardians of the delicate ecosystem that sustained the battered economy of his new home. Their deep green leaves provided a mystifying contrast against the mysterious grey of the mist that hung over the calm azure of the sea.

A disquieting beauty.

Jinrui set his bait, before sitting to wait. Not too long after, a pair of light footsteps padded towards him.

"Jinrui," Inari called behind him.

"Sup, kiddo," the clone replied. "Got bored waiting at home?"

The boy nodded. Jinrui patted the wooden floorboard beside him.

"Join me."

The two sat in companionable silence for several minutes before the boy spoke again.

"Jinrui."

"Yes, Inari?"

"...Why is there so much hurt in the world?"

The clone paused for a moment, turning to look down at the boy sitting beside him. Inari's face was placid, his gaze tranquil.

Jinrui smiled, placing his left hand on the boy's head, and ruffling his hair. "The worlds of you mortals are cursed, Inari. Each and every one of them. For where the concept of power exists, abuse would quickly follow, its victims in tow. Mortal life is suffering. Hard."

"...Power causes suffering?"

"No, Inari. The imbalance of power causes suffering."

The child fell silent. "When the other you came, he said he could protect Mama. He said he was strong. How do I become strong?"

"...Hate, Inari. Your ego is still too weak to survive a transcendence, else this would have been a rather trivial matter. You don't have enough… hate."

The pair said nothing more. Jinrui rose, picking up the bucket containing his catch for the day before heading home. Inari, although absentminded, was fast on his heels.

The pair arrived home fifteen minutes later.

As he entered, Inari ran up to Tsunami, catching her in a quick hug before dislodging himself and making a beeline upstairs to his room. The woman's soft gaze lingered on the staircase up which the child disappeared before turning back to regard the other person in the house.

"How was your day, Tsunami?" Jinrui asked, carrying the bucket of fish to the kitchen.

"Fine," came the woman's reply. "How was yours?"

"It was okay. Caught some willow and three eels. For dinner, we could make fried willow for Inari since he likes those more, and make Unadon for ourselves. What do you think?"

"...I am fine with that," Tsunami replied hesitantly.

Jinrui turned around to face her. "Is there a problem?"

The woman squirmed uncomfortably as he regarded her. "...Yes," she said finally.

Jinrui let one of his brows rise in curiosity. He put his hands under the running tap to wash it clean of the eel slime covering them before drying himself with a napkin. He walked up to her stopping just arm's length away from her where he leaned against the door frame. "Talk to me."

"...I am not comfortable with the rumours that are going around the village about us."

"Rumours?"

"Yes. The people all believe I somehow managed to seduce you into staying here. You, a wealthy traveller from a foreign land. They whisper to themselves that I am some Yōkai who brings misfortune to any man who beds me. My first two husbands are dead and now I have found a third who, in their opinion would soon, face a similar fate. If not at the hands of the numerous hoodlums lusting after your presumed wealth it would be at the hands of some random shinobi who takes a passing interest in you, they say."

"You need not worry about me."

"This is not about you! I am worried about what they would do to me. Or worse… my son. Greed and envy have pushed men greater than them to do deeds beneath even our station as civilians … I was refused trade at the market today. There is no rice in the kitchen; I couldn't buy any. None of the merchants agreed to sell anything to me lest they draw the ire of… someone.

"I am scared, Jinrui."

The clone stared at the woman in silence for a few moments before responding. "I will sort it out," he said, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. The gesture seemed to have opened certain floodgates in her heart as she rushed forward, collapsing into his embrace as muted sobs shuddered through her body.

Jinrui looked up, his gaze meeting that of the boy peeking at them from the top of the stairs. He gestured with his head gently and the boy obediently returned to his bedroom.

"I will sort it out," Jinrui repeated, massaging the centre of Tsunami's back with his right thumb as she slowly calmed down. "Let me go out and get the rice, okay?"

Tsunami sniffled, attempting to hide her red-rimmed eyes as she stepped out of his embrace. "Okay."

"Is there anything else you couldn't get?"

"Yes. The shopping list is on the kitchen counter."

Jinrui turned around to get said list before making his way to the exit.

"...Jinrui!"

"Yes, Tsunami?"

"...Thank you."

The Ego smiled at her. "It's nothing. Take care of yourself. I will be back in a few minutes."

Jinrui walked through the slums, where shadows cast long and hope seemed but a distant memory. The air was heavy with the stench of decay and despair, an ever-present reminder of the hardships endured by those who called this place home.

Ramshackle wooden structures lined narrow, muddy alleyways, their crooked frames leaning precariously against one another as if seeking support in their collective fragility. The once vibrant colours that adorned their facades had long faded, replaced by a sombre palette of greys and browns, matching the spirit of the now desolate Land of Waves.

Thin wisps of smoke curled from makeshift chimneys, carrying with them the acrid scent of burning wood and desperation. Tattered scraps of cloth and shredded paper fluttered in the wind, remnants of a forgotten time when prosperity and dreams seemed within reach.

The townsfolk, dressed in worn and threadbare garments, moved with a slow, weary gait. Their faces were etched with lines of hardship and sorrow. Each step seemed to carry the weight of a thousand burdens, their tired eyes scanning their meagre surroundings for any semblance of salvation. A child, his sunken cheeks and vacant gazes a testament to his malnourished existence, roamed the streets with tattered toys clutched in trembling hands.

Laughter was a rare occurrence here, replaced instead by the hushed whispers of survival, the quiet desperation that lingered in the air like a palpable presence.

Jinrui didn't stop walking though. Neither did anyone try to accost him despite the fact his right hand was heavily laden with valuable groceries. There was a reason he chose his current appearance after all. Towering height, imposing physique, a scarred visage, and a slightly more than passing resemblance to Kaiza, Inari's second father.

Unlike the Prime, his dimensional proxy was physically intimidating.

And if somehow one did not consider that enough reason to avoid crossing him, they just need to look down at the ripped-off head and the trailing spinal column attached to it in his left hand to seriously reconsider that decision. As for who the unfortunate fellow sacrificed for this display was, let's just say Tsunami won't be having problems at the market again for a long time.

Jinrui arrived in front of one particularly obscure house. Tossing the desecrated head aside, he sharply rapped his knuckles on the door four times.

"Open up!"

The sound of shuffling footsteps came from behind the wooden barrier and three seconds later the door swung open.

"Master, you came," announced the one who answered the door. The fellow had short spiky brown hair and small black-coloured eyes. He also appears to be very feminine looking with his lithe frame, painted nails and the mild blush on his face.

"Of course, Haruki," Jinrui replied, handing the groceries over to the former thug. "You didn't think I would just abandon you lot after all I have invested in you lot, did you? Find someone to drop this over with Tsunami, I expect no issues with a task this simple."

"Yes, Sir!"

Jinrui watched as the lanky man rushed away to complete the task entrusted to him before turning around to face the other people in the room. "I see you've all been spending my hard-earned ryō well. Kenji, are those full cheeks I see at the sides of your face?"

The men inside all burst into rapturous laughter at that one fellow's expense.

Jinrui observed the group with an analytical eye, making observations before filing conclusions away at the back of his mind to act upon at a later date.

"Alright, enough messing around," the Ego said, all the humour in his countenance draining near-instantaneously. "I hope you lot have good news for me…

"How is the acquisition of Gatō's shipping company going?…"

029 - Team Guy

KONOHA

A Week Later.

It was a cool, sunny day today.

The leaves on the trees had begun their metamorphosis; vibrant hues of red, orange, and gold spread throughout the village. The towering trees that surround Konohagakure toed the incorporeal divide of the seasons, their canopies a kaleidoscope of colours, creating a stunning backdrop against the clear blue sky. The streets were carpeted with fallen leaves, crackling softly underfoot with each step we took.

Nature exhaled, her breath sharp with a mild crispness tinged with her earthy scent. She appeared sleepy to our senses, breathing and swaying easing with the rhythms of the season.

Today was a horrible day.

We allowed our cheek muscles to contract, and contort our lips into a fond smile. With that manufactured smile we saw off the departing silhouettes of Naruto and Sakura. The pair stopped just beyond the village's main gate, Sakura's smudgy figure turning around to wave back at us with the blonde beside her waiting expectantly, his arms crossed. Even from where we stood at the other end of the street—with both our Sharingans inert and our right eye barely functional—we could still imagine the intensity of the glare the boy was shooting our way.

Just ahead of them was the famed Jiraiya Ogata, known alias, Jiraiya of the Sanin, the Toad Sage. When Naruto came to visit, bragging about his very, very important mission to locate and retrieve Princess Tsunade we knew we had to send an extra pair of eyes along with him. The boy's perception of reality was a bit warped and tunnel-visioned, two traits that render his memories unreliable as reference materials. Sakura on the other hand can be considered a much less compromised asset… in matters that matter at least.

For this reason, we insisted she escort Naruto, giving her strict instructions not to let the boy out of her sight for even a moment. And despite it being glaringly obvious that she was against the idea, our words might have been an edict from the Kami themselves.

Oblivious as usual, Naruto was jubilant upon hearing that the object of his affection would be escorting him on his mission. His bull-headed persistence made it impossible for the Sage to reject the girl, despite the obvious suspicion the bore towards our motives. The tangy taste of scepticism tinged his aura; the emotion made all the more obvious the way he surreptitiously checked her chakra network for signs of mental compulsion.

It's been two days since, and now the heroic trio finally departed to begin their long, arduous search for the one capable of treating our beloved sensei. A noble Senju Princess!… who also happened to be an irresponsible, debt-ridden alcoholic.

And owns a pet pig.

We dared not forget about the pig.

We turned around and began slowly making our way to the Mission Assignment Building. Just a few dozen meters away, hidden amongst the shrubbery, our interim Jonin sensei spied on us. An ANBU squad bracketed the area, their perceptions trained us.

They were a nuisance. One we itched to reduce into blood smears of the concrete floor. Our progress in general had stalled by half just as a result of their presence and discreetly shedding our tails, while not impossible, was a much more tedious and risky endeavour. As we predicted, the village was not one to overlook any opportunity, however flimsy, to grant us a just and proper hiding.

They've declared war.

Again.

One might perceive our words to mean there was ever a chance at peace between Konoha and the Uchiha. If true, then they are very much mistaken. The clans may have moved on from the fiery wars of the warring period, but Tobirama's policies were the initiation of a new conflict. A cold war, one might say. The Leaf, under Hashirama's iron-fisted rule, became a hegemon, a force to be reckoned with. The system, and all the little shinobi running around in it, justify it being a hegemon.

But what use is all that power if not to obliterate nuisances?

The Uchiha doomed themselves because they bought into the Senju rationale, forgetting that the Will of Fire was never theirs, to begin with. It was simply an ideology that bred radical intolerance towards differing views and oppression. One that would cease to function at the slightest dissidence no matter how just.

The Senju are the leaf. Their will is the embodiment of this… Will of Fire. There was no way an alliance in the shape of the Leaf would have ever worked. It was a fool's dream, and the Uchiha collectively, were the fools. The Senju demanded an erasure of a community and their target was the clan that functioned as the villains to their story since time immemorial. The Uchiha were erased—disgraced—and in turn, the Senjus thrived. As heroes! As a culture that endured.

One look at the mountainside overlooking Konoha was all it took to realise this. The faces of the Leaf's past leaders—all bearing more than significant ties to the Senju mind you—carved into the granite; a reminder. The Senju are the Leaf.

They are the Will of Fire…

.

.

.

Now all we have to do is smother it.

Easy.

We arrived at the Mission Assignment Building to find our new teammates waiting for us.

"Good morning," We greeted as we walked up to meet them.

"...Good morning, Sasuke-san," Tenten replied hesitantly. She seemed unsure of what to make of our presence and her gaze kept subconsciously flickering to where our right arm was meant to be. Beside her, Neji stared at us impassively.

"How is a cripple like you still fit for duty?" he finally said in lieu of a greeting.

"Neji!" Tenten gasped.

For a microsecond, we froze, processing the implication of what the boy had just accidentally initiated. A moment later, a genuine smile blossomed on our face in response. Our gaze remained locked with the boys. His usually impassive eyes were enlivened with anger and resentment. Yet, we could sense a tinge of reluctant regret sufficing his aura; the words were most likely impulsive. A spur-of-the-moment. A product of a volatile mix of emotions. Most likely, he was already thinking of a way to apologise without opening himself to further embarrassment.

That didn't matter to us though. Although his outburst was unexpected, it was a major strategic windfall just when things were starting to veer off course. We had been searching for something like this for a while. And since he had so willingly offered himself as a conduit, it would be improper to turn him down.

"I can understand if you still feel disgruntled about your loss," we said into the ensuing silence, "but what gave a mere slave like you the guts to speak to your better in such a manner?"

Tenten turned to face us, eyes googled in horror. She seemed shocked. Why? Was she expecting us to just overlook the boy's arrogance? The Hyuga in question stood frozen, seemingly unable to parse a response.

"...What did you just call me?" he asked.

"A slave?" we replied, feigning confusion. "Isn't that what you branch members are? To be honest, I find it disgraceful the Hyuga would let their property wag its muzzle at the patriarch of a fellow clan. I will be seeing Haishi about this later; he ought to put you on a shorter leash lest you bring further embarrassment to the Hyuga."

We found ourself growing amused at the sight of the boy's gradually contorting expression. His killing intent flared and his face twisted into a snarl. "Die!" he declared charging at us.

Impassive we watched him draw his arm back to deliver a killing blow to our heart. Impassive still, we watched Might Guy blitz beside him to catch his outstretched arm. His open palm stopped mere inches from connecting with our chest cavity.

"Today's youth sure are pretty lively, aren't they!" the Jonin said with false cheer. His eyes were dark and tiny eddies formed in his chakra as a result of faintly expressed anger. "Now, now, Neji. I know you might be a bit excited but this is no way to treat a comrade. Right?"

The boy said nothing, his murderous glare still trained on us. He did retract his arm though, taking a few steps back even as his anger simmered menacingly inside him. He must have really respected the Jonin for him to let the matter drop this easily. In the rear, Tenten watched with an increasingly alarmed expression.

We said nothing into the ensuing silence, staring placidly at the Jonin who stood between us and his precious students. It amused us to no end how the man refused to make true eye contact with us, his gaze shifting off-centre every single time to focus on some other part of our face.

"...Sasuke," he finally said, "I take it you are already acquainted with your new teammates so I will skip any further introduction. You've read the mission brief I sent you?"

"Yes, Guy-sensei," we replied.

"Good. The mission is an easy one, much easier than the last one you completed. I believe you should have no problems—"

"I don't need to be coddled, Guy-sensei. I can carry my weight well enough for something this easy."

"...Ok. Understood. Let's go—"

"Wait!"

We both turned to face Neji who continued to glare at us.

"Yes, Neji?" the Jonin sked.

"I refuse to go on a mission with that cripple," the boy sniffed, raising his snout imperiously at us. "He couldn't even defend himself just now. How can we trust him not to drag us down out in the field?"

"Neji—"

"I will not risk my comrades' lives to protect your fragile ego, Uchiha. I won't be going anywhere until you prove you won't be a liability.

"...And how do you want me to do that, Slave-san?"

The Hyuga snarled. "Fight me!"

We stared at the boy, our head tilted in amusement.

"Fight you?" we asked.

"Fight—" A shadow clone peeled off from the adjacent wall, gently placing the sharpened edge of our poison-coated tanto on the boy's pale neck. We smiled as he froze in horror, the skin around his neck necrotising just from touching the corrosive poison.

"...You forget, Slave, we are assassins, not sumo wrestlers. Glorified murderers-for-hire, that's what we are. This isn't the chunin exams; I have no need, nor inclination, to make a battle between us a long and drawn-out affair. Rather, If I want you dead, you would be the moment I lay my eyes upon you. Understood? Good."

The shadow clone melted back into the wall, disappearing from view.

"You might want to get him to see a medic," we turned to face the pale-faced Jonin, tossing him a vial which he only barely caught after visibly fighting down the instinct to bat it away. "That's the antidote to the poison. It might save him, but given how much of it came in contact with his skin I wouldn't put much stock in that."

030 - Distractions

LAND OF STONE

The scorching sun beat down on a rugged, rocky border town nestled amidst the towering peaks of the mountainous region. The outpost stretched out before us, lined with weather-worn wooden buildings. Its dusty road was sparsely populated with most of its traffic tumbleweeds rolling lazily across the landscape

As we approached, the heat shimmered in the air, creating a hazy mirage that danced above the ground. A gust of wind swept through, rustling the chimes hanging from a nearby storefront. The sound is quickly swallowed by the silence of the deserted town. The coarse loose sand shifted noisily beneath our feet as we walked along the uneven sidewalk, feeling the dryness in the air.

It's been over a month since our departure from Konoha. Our mission, although straightforward, was pointlessly tedious. Regardless, travelling across three countries, just to apprehend a criminal possibly no higher than rank B, or worse, C, in the bingo books seemed like exactly the type of mission the council would lob at us to keep our hands tied for as long as they reasonably could while they planned their nefarious schemes in the background.

Our gaze flickered to regard our teammates. Neji still had his bandages around his neck. The poison we inflicted on him was just as potent as we predicted it to be; the mere sliver that came in contact with his skin robbed him of his ability to speak for over a week. Even now, his voice was hoarse and grating to the ears. The Hyuga still despised us, of course, but the emotion was now tempered by a healthy amount of dread. In light of this, he could be trusted to act professionally at the very least.

Tenten had withdrawn even further, keeping her distance whenever she could. She couldn't seem to decide what emotion to express whenever our existence came to the forefront of her mind, be it anger or trepidation. It was a strange and interesting phenomenon the girl was experiencing. Might Guy on the other hand grew more outspoken. Had it been anyone else, we would have inferred the odd behaviour was some sort of fear response or coping mechanism. But the Jonin didn't have a real reason to truly fear us. His Taijutsu surpassed anything our much smaller form was capable of even when we still possessed both our arms.

Of course, based on the information we have on him, it was still within our means to terminate his existence. But he did know this; then it wasn't fear. Or perhaps, it wasn't fear for his own life. That made more sense. After all, even the weakest in the group understood there was a very real possibility of the Jonin failing to protect them should we turn our sights on them. Neji's current state was a perfect demonstration of this.

In short, our squadmates have been on tenterhooks for weeks now. Guy superimposing himself between ourself and the rest of the team only made it more obvious. Their state of mind did not really concern us much though. In the grand scheme of things, they were, in the end, mere pawns. It would be beneath our dignity to go out of our way to trouble them. So long as they stayed well out of our way.

The wooden floorboards creaked as we made our way into one "Asia Saloon". The swinging doors closed noisily as we entered prompting every pair of eyes inside to swivel to regard us. It was a seedy establishment playing host to all manner of individuals. From possible bandits to missing-nins to even bounty hunters and mercenaries. A myriad of different individuals populated the room. It was a hotspot for the unsavoury; the fourth of such we had stumbled across since entering the backwaters that was this country.

"What will you be having?" the bartender asked as we approached the counter.

"A cup of sake," we replied before Guy could dismiss the fellow. "While you are at it, I wanted to ask if you've seen this man." We slid the picture of our target across the beat-up counter towards the bartender. Delicately, we dropped a stack of coins on the photograph; about ten times more than a bottle of sake was probably worth.

The grizzled bartender scarcely glanced at the bribe before stuffing it down his apron. His gaze flickered about the store for a moment before he gingerly glanced at the picture. Without saying a word he began pouring our drink.

"So?" we asked as he slid a small porcelain cup towards us.

"Ain't seen him," the bartender sniffed.

Expressionless, we dropped another stack of coins on the table before taking a long sip of the alcohol.

It tasted like shit.

"...I think I might remember where I saw him, but my memory's a bit foggy," the bartender said as he stuffed the second stack down his apron. The cheeky little shit.

"Now, now, friend," we tell him. "Let's get greedy. You understand the term "quid pro quo", right? I scratch your back and you scratch mine; everyone goes home happy. Alive."

Our hand formed a seal. A moment later our shadow slithered out to latch on the bartender's. Sweat beaded the man's face as he found himself inexplicably reaching for the knife hidden beneath the counter. His eyes grew bloodshot as the same unruly hand raised the brandished weapon before pressing the bladed edge against his crotch.

"I wonder how quickly a man your size would bleed out if his balls got cut off. Care to find out?"

We met his horrified gaze, taking another long sip of our sake. It still tasted like shit.

"...I see," the bartender said, his adam apple bobbing as he swallowed. "I think I remember him now."

"Ha, that sounds good," we replied letting the shadow possession dispel.

"I saw a fellow resembling him come in here two days ago before leaving for the next outpost. He should still be there; men have a habit of loitering about the town for a while before moving on."

"And why would that be?" we asked.

"Well," the bartender's gaze flickered towards Might Guy standing behind us before continuing, "It's the only outpost in the region that has a… Yūkaku."

"...Oh," we said in understanding. "Fair enough. Was he travelling with anyone else?"

The bartender refused to say anymore. Even the threat of a horrific castration and forced self-mutilation did not seem enough to pry any more information out of him. Exasperated, we slid another stack of coins towards the man.

"No," he finally said, stuffing the coins down his apron. "He was travelling alone."

Ah… Cheeky shit. We like this one.

"Very well. Thank you." We rose from the stool to leave. Our teammates hadn't even bothered sitting in the first place. Neither did they seem too interested in relating with the helpful bartender. It was obvious, both Neji and Tenten disdained the thought of having to relate with anyone in this backwater should they not have to. For his part, Guy appeared to want to assume a more supervisory role; probably in a poorly thought-out bid to feel us out. Not that he could make much progress in that regard. Following bog-standard operation procedure does have a pretty nifty benefit of hiding away more personal motivations from the casual observer. We had no intentions of expressing the sort of originality that gave insights into our inner thoughts. There was simply no reason to.

The Jonin was going to have to work for every scrap of intelligence he got his meaty hands on.

We arrived at the next outpost an hour later, and as promised the place was slightly less deserted than the previous one. It didn't take any time at all to find the brothel; it was after all the liveliest of the establishments present in the town. Scantily dressed women loitered outside a building that was something between an inn and a pub. They giggled, cooed and called, soliciting clients from amongst the passersby.

We made for the brothel, handed out a few bribes and asked even fewer questions—with Neji and ourself dodging the advances of the working women who, much to Tenten's consternation and embarrassment, offered us their services for free. Five minutes later we were once again on the trail, in pursuit of our quarry. An entire day passed before we made any more progress. We stumbled upon a recently dismantled campsite.

Of course, we considered the possibility of it being a dud. It wouldn't be the first we found in our search for our quarry. Regardless, we continued, following the tell-tale signs of a less-than-skilled shinobi traversing the desolate landscape. And as luck would have it, that was exactly what they were.

The shinobi proved a bit of a nuisance to Neji's attacks with the earth armour that coated his skin. The technique bore more than a passing resemblance to Gaara's sand armour. His counter-offensive came as iron nails launched at transonic speeds from beneath the earth. We could sense the bits of chakra-infused metal wiggling beneath the earth like earthworms as they manoeuvred to aim at us. Nail torpedoes, the fellow named the technique. Quaint. And dangerous, yes, but easy to deal with once you know where and in what direction the nails would be fired.

In the end, Might Guy neutralised the target before we would have been forced to seriously intervene. Neji and Tenten were barely injured—as few scratches each. The mission was nearly complete; all that was left was to escort our captive to the Land of Wind's capital to be interrogated and stand trial.

We knew, in the end, the mission was nothing more than a ploy to divert our attention. A distraction.

The other shoe would soon drop.

We kept our senses primed for what would come after.

Somewhere Along The Eastern Border. The Land of Fire.

"Tora…"

"Hebi."

"Inu. Tatsu!"

"Iikkō suru!" Hands came together in a sharp, audible clap. Danzo's chakra churned and the living sacrifice in the centre of the seal array screamed in torment as dust and ash slowly swirled forward to encase their body. The grey mass twisted and moulded their form, altering it, as a skilled potter would wet clay.

Slowly the sacrifice's chakra signature was completely overwritten by another; a stale, musky aura of ages gone past rising to subvert theirs.

"Sensei," Danzo greeted falling to his knees. The two ROOT operatives behind him copied him.

"Lord Second!" they said in chorus.

Tobirama's ashen gaze panned across the assembled Konoha-nin. "...Danzo?" he intoned before glancing down at his decaying body. "Edo Tensei? What have you done, you this unruly disciple?"

"Forgive me, Tobirama-sensei," the withered shinobi replied, his head dipping further in self-reproach. "My hands were forced."

"...What happened? How is the village?"

"The village thrives, Sensei, but I worry for its future." Danzo gestured and one of the ROOT operatives crouched by his side rose and walked forward to pass a scroll to the Second Hokage. Tobirama received it, his gaze erratic as he skimmed through its contents.

"...Uchiha Sasuke," the undead Hokage breathed a moment later.

"The boy's hatred burns pure and true, sensei; unmatched in potency by any in his accursed clan before him… I fear the rise of another Madara. One in a future with no Hashirama to subdue him when he eventually grows unruly."

Tobirama tossed the scroll back to the ROOT operative. "Mangekyō at age six ... Danzo, why is the boy still alive?" the second Hokage asked, pinning his former student with a reproachful glare.

"...My hands were tied," the withered shinobi replied, his head dipping further. "His older brother is loyal, valuable, yet misguided. Overt action on my part would lead to repercussions from him that Konoha would struggle to survive. Hiruzen has grown soft and refuses to see reason; he has made it so that direct intervention on my part is near-impossible for a number of reasons."

Tobirama stared in silence as he mulled over Danzo's words.

"So you used a Jutsu I had explicitly forbidden… to summon me… just to kill an upstart Uchiha brat?"

"I wouldn't be so quick to discount the boy, Sensei," Danzo replied gravely. "Our analysis showed that even crippled as he is, the Uchiha is at least, Jonin-level. He survived an encounter with two S-rank missing-nin, leaving one at the very least incapacitated and only losing an arm in return. If the Yamanakas are to be believed, one of his Mangekyo abilities can completely obliterate a person's soul. To this day, we have no information on what his other eye is capable of; it could be as insidious as the first, or even, worse, for all we know.

"Currently, I have no shinobi on my roster capable of assuring a guaranteed assassination on the boy; one of my best was killed when he was still six. I doubt any single one could be relied upon to complete the task now. Pulling the theoretical minimum number of ninjas required to guarantee the boy's termination from the workforce, regardless of how briefly, would draw Hiruzen's attention and ire. I would prefer to avoid doing that at the moment; there's just too much at stake now to allow infighting to fester."

"...Very well," Tobirama replied moments later. "I will deal with this matter. Your work on this reincarnation is quite shoddy and I am not at full strength, but it should be more than enough to deal with some upstart Uchiha brat regardless of how potent his eyes are. Where is the boy now?"

A small smile graced Danzo's lips. The Septuagenarian gestured to one of his cloaked henchmen who presented a mission scroll, a grey cloak and a featureless white porcelain mask to the Edo Tensei. "I managed to pull some strings and had the boy sent on a roundabout mission to the Land of Wind," Danzo said, as Tobirama received and donned his effects. "He should reach the capital in about three weeks. The details are in the scroll."

"I see. And the Mangekyo?"

"They would prove useful in securing Konoha's future, Tobirama-sensei. Please retrieve them."

"Very well then," the Hokage replied. "I am off."

And the next moment he was gone; not a trace of his presence left behind.

Simply.

Gone.

INTERLUDE (3)

KONOHA

Inoichi was in a state of perpetual confusion.

He couldn't say he particularly enjoyed the feeling.

One might respond to this by stating it was near-impossible to not encounter situations or subjects, that would seem beyond his understanding in his line of work. And the Yamanaka Patriarch would be hard-pressed to disagree with this sentiment. It was a fact he had learned to grow accustomed to after so many years in service after all.

But Sasuke…

Uchiha Sasuke…

The boy was an anomaly.

A paradox. One that seemed perfectly normal on a surface level but got ever more strange and aberrant the deeper you tried to peer into his life.

Inoichi took a step back from the dense, six-meter-tall evidence wall in front of him. It contained so much yet so little of actual value. Thousands of pictures, snippets of texts, Fūinjutsu seals, maps, and reports littered the wall; more than enough information to detail a normal person's existence to the T. More than enough to give a weaker man an aneurysm. It gave him a headache. A rather throbbing one indeed.

Absolutely nothing about this case made sense.

Powerful computers whirred strenuously in the background, hard at work decoding a cypher that had spent about five years under the scrutiny of Konoha's best. One would assume that the child who devised such a complex, esoteric thing and had shown such prodigious talent in cryptography would be very passionate about it, taking great pride in their craft; yet all the evidence available claimed otherwise. Aside from a single written request to join the Intelligence Division―a request that had been immediately shot down by the council due to security concerns―the boy made no further moves to pursue a career in that regard, treating the entire affair with a rather careless, whimsical attitude.

It would have pacified Inoichi if the boy was the type to be irresolute and willing to give up in the face of the slightest opposition, but, again, evidence claimed otherwise. It was almost as if the boy took one glance at the rejection letter that was delivered to him and decided at that moment they weren't worth his time before promptly forgetting about the matter altogether.

The Yamanaka patriarch shot a glance at the section of the wall detailing the boy's psychological analysis. He disliked miring himself in that segment of their investigation. It was like quicksand, the moment you touch it it seemed to want to swallow you whole. It was the region most populated with inconsistencies and anomalies.

For example, according to the data gathered, Uchiha Sasuke was a friendly, charismatic and personable child who carried himself with a maturity far beyond his age. All good traits to expect from the scion of a noble clan of course, except it just ought not to be. Not in this case at least.

Following the Uchiha massacre, there were widespread expectations for the boy to grow to become a sombre recluse. There were expectations for him to exhibit all the tell-tale signs of psychological scarring. There were expectations for the boy to be unable to form reliable connections with his peers without guidance from a strong figure of authority, one that would aid him along the path of recovery and realignment with Konoha's social doctrine. History had shown that traumatic incidents of the scale he endured were not easily brushed aside and forgotten. But aside from a few weeks of mopery, Konoha witnessed a rebound much unlike anything it has ever seen before.

It was almost as if the boy had forgotten entirely about the misfortune that befell his clan.

That was impossible of course. The boy himself seemed to go out of his way to remind the village about the incident. Everything from elaborate private memorials costing tens of thousands of ryo each to host, to sacred annual visitations to the Naka shrine to offer prayers, to even his dressing―with an insistence to stick with the traditional Uchiha attire rather than the newer fashion sense that most of his generation prefered. The boy was the textbook definition of filial piety. He was the one the other villagers would point to when they scolded their own children for being disrespectful. Or lazy. Or talentless. Or ugly. Or any other number of negative traits.

A role model.

That in itself was odd.

Inoichi sensed someone entering the room.

"Aoba?" he asked, shooting a sideways glance at the newcomer.

"Leader-san, we have succeeded in tracking down Uchiha Sasuke's missing funds," the Tokubetsu Jōnin announced as he came to a stop by the Yamanaka patriarch's side.

Inoichi smiled at the sunglasses-donning shinobi with his spiky, black hair. "Finally! A good lead!" he said. "I take you've already compiled a comprehensive report I can give the council so I can get them off my back?"

"We are working on it, sir," Aoba replied, before adding hesitantly. "Although I doubt the information would prove useful in that regard, sir…"

Inoichi's heart dropped. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"...Apparently, Sasuke donated the entirety of the liquid assets that made up his inheritance to an organisation in the Land of Waves to help rebuild the country shortly after being discharged from the hospital. We have already done our financial analysis and have confirmed that the boy would not be in any way inconvenienced by this donation, so the logic behind the decision checks out; his projected earnings from completing his mission assignments should just be enough to keep him buoyant for the foreseeable future. And that's not taking into account any future increase in earnings should he advance up the ranks.

"As for the organisation he donated to, we have tracked it down and begun a preliminary investigation on them. As for what we know now, the organisation is headed by one Jinrui Tanaka, younger brother to another Kaiza Tanaka. The older brother, Kaiza, was a travelling fisherman touring the lands in search of new opportunities when he arrived at the Land of Waves and settled down, marrying one Tsunami Tanaka, then a widowed mother of one and the only child of Tazuna, the architect in charge of constructing the bridge connecting the Land of Waves and Fire.

"Both Kaiza and Tazuna were murdered at the behest of Gato of the Gato company as they were impeding his plot to take over the country. Jinrui arrived sometime after Gato's demise to take responsibility for his deceased brother's new family. There are rumours of the man having an affair with his brother's widow which would explain a lot regarding this particular case, but we've been unable to confirm this. Also, according to what little intel we have on the man he seems to have some shinobi background. Although we couldn't say for certain what his allegiances are, we haven't ruled out the possibility of him being a sleeper agent given background information on the man is seemingly nonexistent.

"Regardless, Jinrui seemed to have taken a keen interest in the welfare of the Land of Waves, having purchased all of Gato's remaining assets, rehired most of the billionaire's essential workforce, and had taken over financing the construction of the bridge that Tazuna died building. To fund this rapid expansion, he had also started an initiative soliciting financial support from the surrounding countries; his men have been spotted all the way east to the Land of Wind requesting aid in any form or manner from anyone who would listen to assist in rebuilding the Land of Waves, although their success would be considered irregular at best."

Inoichi sighed. "Let me guess, Sasuke stumbled upon one of these men soliciting aid, and having personally witnessed the misfortune that befell the Land of Waves decided to donate his family inheritance to their cause. An inheritance which, although impossibly hard to ignore, he just so happened to have no use for at the moment?"

"Yes, leader-san," Aoba nodded grimly. "That would be the case. I personally checked his ANBU handler's logbook for the day this might have occurred and it confirmed that such was the case."

"... So, depending on how we looked at this matter, it could be very suspicious, yet not at all. Ambiguous. Frankly, I would have to be particularly paranoid to believe that a boy who had been beyond the Land of Fire's borders only once had somehow already found contacts reliable enough―in another country―to be trusted with such valuable assets. But, I doubt the council would see reason; they rarely did when it came to matters concerning the boy." Inoichi sighed again. "Preemptively begin an in-depth investigation into this Jinrui fellow. We both know we would be forced to do so anyways, no point pushing the matter to a later date. Also, how are the local lords reacting to these changes?"

"Oh, they love it," Aoba replied, pushing his shade up the bridge of his nose. "Jinrui seems to be really conscious about how he deals with them, always making sure to find a way they benefit from his endeavours, either monetarily wise or just better political clout. They have very little reason to impede him in any way."

Inoichi sighed again. "Please have the full report on my desk before the end of the day."

"Yes, sir!"

Water dripped eerily from the tips of the stalactites hanging from the ceiling above, the tinkling noise of their collision with the stone floor echoing through the silent cavern.

Itachi looked around at the near-transparent silhouette of his fellow Akatsuki members refracting an array of spectral colours, much like a rainbow. Their bodies were distorted and flickered as if receiving electronic interference, and when Pein spoke his voice was altered the same way.

"It's been seven years since we all gathered like this," the Rinnegan-bearing spectre intoned. "Orochimaru is still a nuisance and we've lost another member. Itachi… you failed … Should we be concerned about your little brother?"

"No," Itachi replied calmly. "He caught us by surprise, that's all."

"He killed Kisame," Konan interjected.

"...He is my brother and is apparently more talented than I am. That shouldn't be too surprising, no?"

No one spoke.

"You need not worry about the boy; it is me he wants dead. Besides, I crippled him before Konoha's ANBU could intervene. I doubt he would prove troublesome for a while yet."

"Orochimaru is after the boy's eyes; should he acquire them he might prove himself a nuisance to our plans."

"I doubt Orochimaru can handle Sasuke even as he is now―"

"You seem awfully defensive of this brother of your's Itachi," Kakuza interrupted in an entirely offhanded manner. "Is there something you aren't telling us?"

"Stop this," Pein ordered before Itachi could reply. "We'll kill Orochimaru eventually. And should this Sasuke boy prove to be troublesome we will kill him too. We have other things to worry about other than those two. There are only three years left for us to bring order and peace to the shinobi world. Asides from Itachi who is now short a partner, I want to believe everyone else can accomplish the task required of them... Good. Then, you are all dismissed. As for you Itachi, I would find a replacement to find Kisame's role; please try not to get them killed again..."

031 - Kidnapped

THE LAND OF WIND

We pulled our scarf tighter around our face in an instinctual bid to keep the worst of the dust out of our nostrils. The air shimmered with heat, carrying a dry, arid breeze through the city. Under the scorching summer sun, the capital gleamed, its towering sandstone structures bearing polished, pitted scars birthed from braving the relentless sandstorms that haunted the region.

For a city where it was hard to get anything done without getting dirt in your eyes, mouth, or up your nostrils, it was quite busy. Not that much dissimilar to the Land of Fire in that regard, in fact. The marketplace was alive with vibrant colours and energetic chatter. Traders from all walks of life displayed their wares, enticing passersby with an array of goods. The scent of exotic spices wafted through the air, blending with the fragrant aroma of freshly brewed tea.

Who would drink tea in such horrid weather, we could not fathom. But apparently, a lot of people did in the Land of Wind if one went by the number of peddlers plying the trade by the roadside.

Citizens, dressed in light, flowing garments meandered through the streets. We winked at a gaggle of young women who ran past us, their alluring laughter echoing like tinkling bells in a silent cavern; their faces adorned with broad smiles and tanned, sand-dusted cheeks. Some carried flavoured shaved ice, while others clutched colourful fans, using them to ward off the heat and hide their blushing faces as the group frolicked out of sight. A group of street performers gathered near the town square, their instruments at the ready. The melodic strumming of a shamisen intertwined with the rhythmic beat of drums to create a lively atmosphere. A small crowd had formed around them, clapping and swaying to the music.

We shot a side glance at our teammates as we paid for a scoop of shaved ice before coating the pineapple-flavoured treat with a layer of chakra in a bid to keep the worst of the swirling dirt out. Despite the package drop-off going off without a hitch―concluding that rather annoying capture mission―they still hadn't loosened up in the slightest.

Not that their discomfort bothered us in any meaningful manner. It was still a hassle to deal with a bunch of skittish shinobi for the duration of our return to Konoha.

The city peeled off behind us as we made our way east, down a dirt trail towards the border. We were still about a week away if we continued at our current pace, and another two or three before we reached Konoha. But that was fine; we were in no hurry to return to the village.

It was then, as we were walking along, eating our pineapple-flavoured shaved ice, and minding our own business―whilst inwardly plotting Konoha's downfall―with our skittish teammates in tow that we saw him. The cloaked fellow―obviously a shinobi―sat on a rock by the roadside, seemingly waiting for someone. Our guard rose as we bit into the icy treat in our hand; he was clearly skilled. Very much so, in fact. We hadn't sensed him until he was just a few dozen meters away. A fact alone that instantly placed him leagues above the common rabble we were used to dealing with.

"Are you… Uchiha Sasuke?" the masked man asked foolishly.

We tilted our head in curiosity. "No."

"...Funny," the fellow declared, unamused, after a momentary pause. Behind us, Might Guy grew tense. His posture subtly changed as he flickered to stand beside us.

"Who are you?" the Jonin asked.

"It doesn't matter, young one," the masked fellow said. "I am gladdened to see the Will of Fire burning strongly in you, but it saddens me more to see you fighting beside this accursed child."

"I will not ask again," Might Guy replied, his expression turning sombre. "Who. Are. You?"

Strangely enough, the masked fellow sighed in response. It was a wistful thing.

"You need not think too deeply into this matter, child," he said. "I will be taking the Uchiha boy off your hands. You should be grateful. Or you could try to stop me but I doubt you would see much success at that. Enough chit-chat. Genjutsu: Bringer-of-Darkness!"

We sensed the unexpected(entirely expected) assault take hold in the Might Guy's Chakra network. The Jonin raised both his arms defensively, desperately trying to dispel the illusionary technique to no avail.

With our team lead effectively neutralised we felt our assailant's attention settle fully on us. His right hand blurred and a kunai shot towards our temple. We leaned our head slightly to the side, letting the projectile shoot past harmlessly without taking our crimson gaze off the strange shinobi. But then, the strangest thing happened.

He disappeared.

Before we could blink we sensed our assailant's presence reappear behind us as well as the churning of an alarming quantity of chakra.

Teleportation? We thought to ourself. Now that's cheating…

"Water Style: Water Prison Jutsu!"

Chakra flooded our brains and sensory organs as we desperately attempted to reacquire battlespace awareness. Reality stalled as time slowed nearly to a halt. We could sense everything going on around us with supernatural clarity. We could acutely feel the air pushing back against our skin as we attempted to flicker away.

We could also acutely see, in the periphery of our vision, tendrils of conjured water slowly, but inevitably, overtaking us, crisscrossing as they positioned themselves directly in our path to cut off our escape route. The heightened sensation of pain we suffered from slamming into the wall of water forced us back into the moment.

We blinked as the rippling sphere of water around us smoothened out, growing denser―heavier―as it was further infused with chakra. Our breathing grew difficult and our movements were restricted. Trapped.

Our gaze flickered towards our other two teammates who stood uselessly, staring at our captor in shock. The worthless lot couldn't be depended on, we decided immediately, our neurons firing as we calculated the optimal counter to our assailant's move.

But, apparently, the masked shinobi wasn't done yet.

"Flying Thunder God Jutsu," he whispered.

Abruptly, the terrain changed and our teammates were nowhere in sight. We were now by some beachside not dissimilar to the ones we saw back at the Land of Waves. The soothing noise of rustling mangroves and thrashing waves rode on the ocean winds. Even through our prison, we could taste the traces of salt in the possibly moist air.

We were definitely nowhere near the desert lands of Wind Country.

Still, to be certain, we reached out as far as we could with our perception whilst trapped inside the sphere of super-dense water, but we could not find our teammates anywhere. Our captor had teleported us; conveniently out of sight of the spies Konoha had attached to us…

"Don't bother," the still unnamed shinobi commented blandly, confirming our suspicions. "We are no longer in the Land of Wind."

And if that wasn't a tactical blunder we honestly did not know what was…

032 - You shouldn't have done that, Tobirama…

NADESHIKO ISLAND

"Don't bother," Tobirama said calmly to the Uchiha spawn. "We are no longer in the Land of Wind."

Eerily enough, the chunin simply glanced up at him, seemingly unconcerned about being captured and separated from the rest of his team. Tobirama subconsciously shifted his gaze to avoid directly meeting the boy's crimson ones, instead focusing on his pale cheeks below; decades of battling against the accursed Uchiha had engrained this instinct too deeply in his psyche for him to forget even after death.

For to adapt is to survive after all.

The Uchiha had forced him to adapt.

"Any last words, Sasuke?" Tobirama asked the child as he formed a chakra scalpel in his free hand. It was the least he could do before ending the boy's existence. Surely, it was unfortunate a prodigious shinobi this young had to die under such circumstances, but the Second Hokage was not about to risk the future of his brother's heritage out of mere sentimentality.

In response to his question, the young Uchiha simply shrugged, appearing nonchalant in the face of his imminent demise. The boy made no overt moves to escape from his imprisonment.

Suspicious.

Tobirama sighed, discarding the passing thought of dispelling the restraining technique that held the boy before killing him. He would rather not risk things getting any more complicated than they ought to be. His arm blurred forward, punching through the water sphere towards the boy's chest. The chakra scalpel squirming within Tobirama's palm pierced Sasuke's heart, clouding the water sphere that imprisoned him crimson with blood.

Tobirama blinked as he stared at his severed arm floating within the bloody sphere of water. The scheming child stared back at him defiantly, his left hand deathly pale as it tightly gripped the Tanto with which he struck him. The Hokage withdrew what was left of his arm, staring at it with unbridled curiosity.

"...What sort of boundless hatred would drive a child to concoct a poison as sinister as this?" Tobirama asked as he examined the wicked bane smeared on his severed arm. His gaze flickered towards the envenomed blade in the boy's hand. It was at that moment a discomforting thought surfaced in his mind.

Had I been truly alive, this boy, still wet behind the ears, would have killed me…

"...All things considered, that was an outstanding attempt at mutual murder, Uchiha Sasuke," Tobirama mused, "Colour me impressed." The Hokage was starting to see what had his student so worked up. This Uchiha boy would surely have grown to become a true menace had he been left to his devices.

Tobirama shook his head in disappointment. Had the boy been born Senju, or at least, truly loyal to the leaf, Konoha's future would have at the very least been significantly more secure. But, alas, he was not.

What a waste…

The Senju sighed as he let the Water Prison Jutsu dispel, the dense, crimson liquid splashing on the beach sand as it deposited the boy's limp corpse on the floor. He bent over, reaching to pluck the Uchiha's Dōjutsu from his cooling cadaver when a poisoned blade stabbed him through the face.

Tobirama blinked again as his split porcelain mask slowly fell away to reveal his gobsmacked expression. The Hokage didn't dare look down; as in the periphery of his vision, he sensed two crimson orbs staring at him, goading him to peer into their infernal depths.

Taunting him.

Tobirama's arm blurred, aiming to obliterate the bones in the Uchiha's sole functioning arm. The counterattack tore through with ease—excessive ease—seemingly phasing through its target.

An afterimage.

The Hokage looked up at the child who, for the second time today, had succeeded in landing a lethal attack on his person. True, he was nowhere near his peak strength given the shoddy reincarnation his student performed to bring him back, but still. Twice?

It was starting to get embarrassing.

Tobirama stared at the Uchiha standing across from him, causally restarting his heart. Although the organ was located several inches away from the position expected in any normal human—beneath the right lung of all things—the Hokage could still easily tell what it was. Life returned to the boy's aura and the mask of death slowly slid off. The inch-long gash in his chest remained open, but the blood flow had clearly stopped.

For all intents and purposes, the boy was mostly unharmed.

"Lord Second," the Uchiha said, speaking for the second time since their admittedly violent interaction began. "And to what do I owe this honour?"

Tobirama squinted suspiciously. The scheming child was clearly trying to buy time., but unfortunately for him, he had no intention of letting him do so.

A barrage of kunai shot from Tobirama's grasp.

Sasuke caught one, dodging the rest.

Tobirama pulled on the captured projectile with his intent and appeared in front of the boy, his fist shooting towards his skull.

Sasuke's chakra churned, cold and aberrant, and the inert network of barrier tags that lay hidden beneath the loose beach sand in front of him suddenly flared to life with a blinding intensity. A forest of animated kanji sprung out of the dirt beneath Tobirama, attempting to latch onto his body and seal him away.

Tobirama pulled on one of the still airborne projectiles behind the boy, reappearing a few meters away, dodging the trap. Before his feet even touched the ground, another barrage of kunai shot from his grasp towards the boy's back. The mass of projectiles struck home and Sasuke exploded in a puff of white smoke.

A Shadow Clone.

Tobirama paused his, eyes flickering erratically in search of the missing child. He sensed a fist shooting towards his skull from behind, leaning forward to let it sail over his head. His right hand shot out to catch the boy's left ankle.

Sasuke responded by locking the offending arm in a tackle with his other feet before retaliating with a palm strike to the face. Tobirama caught the counterattack with his other hand, neutralising it.

Tobirama smiled as he held the boy's entire body weight in both his arms. He heaved in preparation to brutally bodyslam him into the floor. The boy smiled as well, an expression that significantly confused the Kage.

"Lend me a hand, would you, Hokage-sama," Sasuke said, forcibly puppeteering Tobirama's left hand to weave a series of hand signs with his sole functioning one. The boy's body suddenly turned soft, his bones disjointed, allowing him to slip out of Tobirama's hold before leaping away using the larger man's chest as a kickboard.

Airborne, Sasuke turned to face his foe, inhaling deeply before exhaling a literal sea of flames.

"Fire Release: Great Fire Annihilation!"

Tobirama's hand blurred through a series of seals before he too inhaled, gathering chakra in his core.

"Water Release: Exploding Water Colliding Wave!"

A great volume of water spewed forth from the Hokage's mouth, advancing as a torrential surge towards the incoming sea of flames. The two masses collided explosively to release another mass of superheated steam that irreversibly altered the surrounding ecosystem.

Tobirama stood vigilantly as the resultant tempest whipped coarse beach sand violently into his grey, lifeless eyes. He surveyed the damage wrought on the beach by both their techniques and came to a resolute conclusion.

Uchiha Sasuke must not be allowed to leave this place alive!

His intent heaved, teleporting him to the technique formula he placed on the child just moments ago during their impromptu grapple.

The Uchiha was waiting for him.

Tobirama's gaze panned down to the mass of shadows attached to his own. He made sure it stayed there. Sasuke tried to force him to gaze into his eyes. Tobirama grunted as he resisted. Defiant. He tried to dispel the restraining technique with raw power, but the boy held fast. Unyielding.

No matter, The Kage shrugged internally as he pulled on his chakra pool, he is close enough.

"Mutually Multiplying Explosive Tags!"

For a moment, everything went still. In that same moment, grim realisation dawned on Sasuke; even without seeing his expression, it was glaringly obvious from how frantically he tried to flee the scene.

It was too late though.

His fate was already set in stone.

*BOOM!*

…

.

.

.

…Tobirama reformed eyes blinked open.

He forced his reformed upper half, resting against the curvature of the crater he now found himself in, to sit up. Acrid smoke and dust swirled chaotically in the air. The dirt beneath smouldered, crackling noisily as it slowly cooled from its superheated state.

Surely, the boy is dead now?

The micro-debris suspended in the air slowly cleared to reveal an ephemeral silhouette towering in the distance. Four skeletal wings extended from its back, curling over the shoulders and two more laid curled on the chest. Six skeletal arms extended from the torso, four of which rested on the floor palm first. The other two languidly stretched out to the side, palms facing the sky. And crowning this abomination were three fused heads; each distinctive in its own way. The first, to the right, was a simple human skull with three pairs of skeletal wings extending from where the ears ought to be and curling regally around the head like a crown. The third, to the left, had a flat, featureless face—like a board—with six darkened magatamas carved into it.

The second was…

Incomprehensible.

Tobirama felt his very soul hurt the longer he stared at it. He looked away, the name of the incomplete technique rising, unbidden, in his mind.

Susanoo…

Yūbu no Aragami

The Tempestuous God of Valour

His gaze descended to focus on the Uchiha within. The boy knelt beneath the protective shroud of his technique, his left side, including a portion of his face, as well as a significant portion of his kimono, horribly burnt away.

"You shouldn't have done that, Tobirama," the… thing said hoarsely as it glared malevolently at the Tobirama.

In response, the Kage pulled with his intent, letting his technique drag him back to Konoha. Hiruzen stood abruptly, staring at him in shock, but he ignored him. The Second Hokage's eyes were frantic, a hint of horror hidden within them.

"...What was that?

033 - A Strange Encounter

NADESHIKO ISLAND

Shizuka felt her heartbeat quicken—her chest tightening—as the oppressive chakras in the distance flared ominously. A thunderous explosion echoed from miles away and the earth beneath her feet tremored violently. She stared ahead in awe at the artificially formed cumulonimbus, birthed from the massive, rising column of steam in the distance before turning to face her master racing ahead just a few meters in front of her.

For a moment, the temptation to plead with the older woman for them to turn back rose in the back of her mind before she mercilessly squashed it. It was a pointless thought after all.

Shizuka did not fancy herself a traitor or a coward.

A chain of explosions, much larger than the one before it, rocked the island moments later. She raised her arm to protect her eyes from the emanating glare as the resulting shockwaves slammed into her as she charged head-first towards the battle. Tempestuous winds whipped at her lithe form, tossing and pulling her hair painfully to the back. She didn't stop, nor did she slow down.

To say she wasn't dreadfully worried about confronting what lay ahead would be a lie. But her island—her village … her home—was beset by a possible threat to its very existence.

She would find herself a discarded corpse before any harm could befall her home.

Shizuka pulled herself to a stop at the fringes of the battle just outside the edge of a newly formed crater. Rivulets of seawater seeped into the hole at a rate that would fill it up in just a few dozen minutes. But that was not what caught her attention; as the thick cloud of smog dispersed in the wind, she noticed two battered figures near the centre of the crater.

The first was what looked like the corpse of a middle-aged man. It was hard to tell given his lower half was currently missing. The corpse—no, man—pushed what remained of his body up, inclining himself on the inner curvature of the crater, uncaring as muddy seawater ran over his cracked, decaying skin. Shizuka would have found his inattentiveness to his current condition morbid and disturbing had she not been as distracted as he was.

Just a few dozen meters away from the corpse of a man was a boy who appeared to be somewhat around her age—about sixteen or seventeen. He knelt on the muddy floor, his right arm missing and his left dangling limply by his side. Horrible burns covered the left side of his body, the skin on his face and upper torso visibly charred.

A towering, winged, humanoid chakra construct enveloped the boy protectively. Staring at it hurt her head and made her eyes itch somehow; some esoteric technique, no doubt. In response, Shizuka raised her guard further as she averted her gaze, focusing instead on the figure within.

"You shouldn't have done that, Tobirama," the boy said hoarsely, glaring at his foe across from him with strange eyes that glowed crimson. In response, the other shinobi said nothing, simply vanishing the next moment.

Afraid.

"...And who are you lot?" the boy said out loud as he rose to his feet, seemingly to himself. Shizuka looked to her master who shared perplexed glances with the village elders and the elite kunoichis accompanying them.

Did he sense us? Shizuka asked herself as she turned back towards the monstrous youth. As she did, the boy turned around to glare straight at them, the chakra construct enveloping him turning with him. Shizuka's eyes widened in shock.

We are well hidden amongst all this debris! How in Kami's name did he find us?

"Ladies, I know you are there," the boy continued, his cold glare unabating. "Come out. I am starting to really dislike having stalkers hovering around me."

Shizuka turned back towards her master, her gaze finally catching the older woman's own.

"Alright! We are coming out!" her master said without breaking eye contact. Subtle nods were exchanged and Shizuka tightened her grip on the kunai in her hand.

The mysterious boy barely reacted at the sight of all twenty of them coming out of hiding, his eyes sweeping over their entire group before immediately settling on Lady Marika. Shizuka moved to stand between her master and the boy not trusting him to remain civil under such disadvantageous conditions, outnumbered as he was. His expressionless gaze shifted to focus on her before returning to Lady Marika the next moment, his head tilting slightly to the side as if studying her.

"And who would you be then?" he asked, carelessly raking the fingers on his sole remaining hand through his long, messy hair.

Shizuka did not need to turn around to sense her master's annoyance.

"You invade my peoples' territory and wage such a destructive battle as to scar our lands, yet you have the gall to ask who I am?" Lady Marika replied, angry lines appearing on her aged visage. The boy blinked, heaving a tired sigh a moment later.

"...And where would this be?" he asked.

Stunned, no one responded. The beachside fell silent with only the sound of water filling the crater and the noise of waves crashing against the shore riding on the ocean winds.

"Is this a joke to you?" Shizuka snapped, no longer able to contain herself.

"Do I look like I am in the mood for jokes?" the boy asked, as he raised one brow in inquiry.

"...You truly don't know where you are?" Tokiwa, who stood by Shizuka's side, asked him.

"No, I do not. Where is this place? And, who are you? You still haven't communicated anything of significant value to me yet; makes me wonder if my decision to let you all keep your lives was the correct one…"

The chakra construct enveloping the boy crossed the first pair of its skeletal arms ominously. Shizuka paled as a flood of yin-cold, viscous chakra washed over her.

"You dare threaten us!" Elder Yui—irrational as her nature consistently dictated she behaved—scowled and unsheathed her ninjato from its scabbard by her waist. "I will have your hide, boy—"

"Yui! Behave!"

"...Yes, Chīfu-sama."

Lady Marika turned back to face the boy. "I am Marika Yamato, Chief of the Nadeshiko village."

"Nadeshiko... You mean the settlement north of O'Ozu Island?"

"Yes. I want to assume you are a Konoha-nin?" Lady Marika asked gesturing with her chin towards the headband sewn to the obi by his waist. As if just remembering the existence of the insignia he glanced down at it.

The boy's placid expression twisted into a rabid snarl as he ripped the metal piece off his person before crushing it in his fist. His expression smoothened out the next moment as he tossed the crumpled headband carelessly behind him.

Shizuka blinked, unsure if what she just saw actually happened.

"...Or …I guess not?"

"We are going to have to ask you to leave," Elder Fubuki said, moments later, her expression hardening.

"What do you mean leave?" Elder Himeko countered. "We have been searching for a suitable replacement for that filthy mongrel Shizuka brought home for ages now. Kami drops one right in our lap, and you want to chase him away? Insanity!"

What? Shizuka asked herself, confused. Filthy mongrel… Sagiri?

"You are asking we shelter a defector from the Hidden Leaf in our ranks," Elder Katsura replied. "I see you haven't outgrown your death-seeking tendencies at all, Himeko…"

"What! Is that cowardice I hear, Katsura?"

"You would rather start a conflict with Konoha than let Shizuka indulge in her selfish, childish impulses?"

Wait. What?

"Can't you see the embroidery on his clothes? The fabled Sharingan in his eyes? He is an Uchiha, for Kami's sake! And if the rumours are true, he is possibly the last of his kind! Of course, yes—"

"Himeko! Katsura!"

The two middle-aged women seized their bickering. Shizuka looked on in confusion, struggling to comprehend what was going on. Lady Marika's attention returned to the boy.

"I am sorry about that, Uchiha…"

"Sasuke," the boy helpfully supplied.

"Uchiha Sasuke," Lady Marika repeated, nodding. "I apologise for that. You can dispel your technique now. I don't imagine you would be too comfortable straining your body like that after what you've just been through. You can rest easy, we no longer have any intentions of attacking you."

"We don't?" Elder Yui asked, confused.

On cue, Elder Fubuki smacked her on the back of the head.

"No, we don't, Yui," came a sigh from Lady Marika. "If I can avoid it, I would very much prefer we do not fight this young man. So, behave."

The boy's gaze panned over their entire group, evaluating. Seemingly content with whatever he found, his shoulders rose in a small shrug. "Very well then. I will be taking my leave," he said, the towering chakra construct enveloping him dispersing the next moment as he turned to leave.

"Uchiha-san!"

The boy stopped, shooting a sideways glance at Lady Marika. His left brow rose in inquiry. Shizuka also turned to stare at her master in confusion.

"Yes?" he asked.

"I hope you won't mind having a conversation with me over a cup of tea; in exchange, we could help you with those injuries of yours."

The boy stared at her in silence for a few minutes before responding. "How far is the Land of Wave from this place?" he asked.

"About two weeks by ship, why?"

"Never mind then, I'll manage."

"I am not sure if you are aware, but the Land of Mist is in the midst of another civil war and there are reports of the conflict spilling well outside their borders, making the sea routes in the region unsafe to travel for the foreseeable future. You might seem fine now, but even I can tell your body is slowly failing; until you receive proper treatment, you will only get weaker with time. Is the risk really worth taking, Uchiha-san?"

In response, the boy simply sighed.

"...I guess not."

034 - A Facade Torn

KONOHA

Kakashi groaned as his consciousness gradually returned to him. He felt his body ache all over. His head hurt, a throbbing pain inflaming the front of his brain. His muscles and bones felt weak. Soft.

"Right on cue. You are finally awake," a feminine voice drawled by his side. The Jonin blinked, turning slightly to regard the woman.

"...Tsunade-hime?" he mumbled, confused. "You are here?"

"How can I not be here?" the Senju princess grumbled. "I still cannot believe those old farts sicced that annoying duo on me. The audacity!"

"What—"

*BANG!*

'KAKASHI-SENSEI!"

Kakashi winced. He glanced at the hospital door that had been violently tossed open to stare at Naruto standing glumly at the entrance, a stupid grin plastered on his face. The self-indulgent expression promptly vanished as Sakura's clenched fist came crashing into the back of his skull. Tsunade appeared behind the boy a moment later, tugging him up into the air by the left ear.

"ARE YOU STUPID?!" the two females screeched simultaneously. Kakashi winced again at the noise. He had the ominous premonition that the duo would get along swimmingly well. A fact that didn't bode well for his impulsive pupil no matter how one looked at it.

…

It took about three minutes for the two shrews to loudly properly engrave the importance of subtlety in the hospital on Naruto's dense, walnut-like brain. Kakashi watched the entire procedure with a hint of horrid fascination, subconsciously reaffirming his decision to keep his interaction with real-life women to a solely professional level. Soon, the boisterous crew fell silent and Kakashi could finally ask the question that had been burning at the back of his mind since his awakening.

"...Where is Sasuke?"

"Oh," Sakura replied, "I heard he went on a mission with Team Guy to the Land of Stone. He should be back in a few weeks."

"Sasuke?" Tsunade interrupted before Kakashi could comment on the news. She turned to face him, her expression pensive. "You mean the kid who knocked you out? Kakashi, you know, getting all battered up by a chunin still wet behind the ears is pretty embarrassing. I thought you were a natural. Guess I was wrong."

At that, everyone turned to look at the blonde woman.

"What do you mean, Tsunade-hime?" The Jonin asked, confused.

"...Wasn't it this Sasuke boy that knocked you out with his ocular technique?"

"No!" Kakashi replied. "Why would my student attack me?"

"Sasuke would never do that!" Sakura exclaimed, quick to defend her knight in shining armour. Even Naruto snorted in disbelief, muttering a disgruntled "as if" under his breath as he dismissed the claim.

The Senju Princess looked around, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. "I think you need to speak with the Hokage," she said.

"Now."

…

Sarutobi massaged his forehead in an effort to keep the migraine forming in his skull away, albeit with little success.

"You mean to say, everything in Sasuke's report of the incident was correct?" he asked.

"Yes, Hokage-sama," replied Kakashi. The Jonin, just out of the hospital, stood before him leaning on a pair of crutches. "Sasuke was much faster than I was, so I arrived a bit late to the battle. By the time I arrived, mere seconds behind him, one of the missing-nin, whom I identified as Kisame Hoshigaki, was already dead. Itachi had also retaliated at that point as Sasuke had already lost an arm by the time I saw him again. The appendage was on the forest floor, burning in a strange black flame; I think the boy severed his arm himself the moment he realised he couldn't put the flames out. In my haste to aid him, I attacked Itachi but missed—most probably due to a Genjutsu—before promptly falling victim to older Uchiha's counterattack."

"...So, you mean to say that Sasuke sensed the interlopers before you did?" Homura asked, his eyes squinting in suspicion.

"...Yes."

Sarutobi's brain throbbed harder.

That explains everything, he thought, comprehension blooming in his mind. The lack of valuable information on the boy, his refusal to disclose more about the incident and even the obvious distrust he has towards the council. With sensory skills that potent there was no way he couldn't have known we were spying on him!

Sarutobi shared stiff glances at his fellow councilmen, the tell-tale signs of realisation glinting in their eyes.

"Sasuke failed to report that the second interloper was Kisame Hoshigaki," Sarutobi continued with a tired sigh, his head throbbing harder, "With what you have just said, you are insinuating that the chunin killed an S-rank missing-nin, one of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist, in a mere handful of seconds? Is that correct?"

Kakashi's eyes widened in sudden realisation. "...Yes?" he replied hesitantly as if he too couldn't believe what just came out of his mouth.

"Bullshit!" Shikaku growled. "Kakashi's mind has clearly been tampered with by that brat! If he could play around with my son's brain with such impunity, I fail to see how his sensei would be exempt from such treatment."

"I recently just performed an extensive medical procedure on Kakashi's psyche," Tsunade interrupted, her eyes still fixated on her granduncle's undead form. "I noticed no signs of psychological tampering."

"I myself took the liberty of checking Kakashi's mind when you reported discovering mental tampering in your son," Inoichi added. "I assure you, there were no signs of mental tampering."

"...What would you say the boy's attitude towards Konoha was, Kakashi?" Tobirama asked, his gravelly voice cutting through the silence that followed Inoichi's report.

"...Neutral, Second Hokage-sama," Kakashi replied after a moment of thought. "He dealt with all his responsibilities with the competence expected of him."

The Jonin visibly paused after saying that.

Epiphany glittered in his gaze.

"...He dealt with all his responsibilities with just the right amount of competence expected of him."

"Had his brother not appeared, pushing him to act… irrationally," Danzo continued, the Jonin's sudden epiphany seemingly infecting him, "we would have never known what he was truly capable of! I knew it! The evil thing—"

"Oh, for Kami's sake, SHUT UP!"

Everyone turned to look at him in shock, but Sarutobi couldn't care less at this point.

"I had warned you," he began, "time and again, without number, to leave this boy alone. Seven years ago, I explicitly told you that SASUKE WAS TO REMAIN UNTOUCHED! I had you removed from this very council as a warning! But, did you listen? NO! You just had to disregard my words! Now look at what you've done! LOOK!"

"Sarutobi, please calm—"

"NO! No, Koharu! Enough is enough! Raidō! Genma!" Sarutobi called, the two appearing before him in an instant. The Hokage sighed, deflating under the weight of his anger.

"..arrest him."

It hurt him to give the order but it had to be done, lest his friend pushed this matter further down the path of no return.

"Hiruzen…"

Sarutobi looked up to meet the gaze of his deceased mentor.

"Calm yourself," Tobirama said. "Now is not the time for infighting. Instead, we should be looking for a way to resolve this matter. Permanently. This boy, who now without a doubt bears a grudge against the village, effectively killed me three times."

Sarutobi's heart shook, his migraine rising by another level.

What?

"Although I admit that Danzo did a shoddy job with my resurrection, I still possess, at least, forty per cent of my peak strength. Combine that with my infinitely replenishing chakra reserves and immortal body, and the fact that I was killed three times in a span of fifteen minutes ought to speak leagues of this child's potential. In fact, towards the end of the battle, I had no doubt in my mind that he possessed another ability, aside from his Mangekyo, with which he could permanently eliminate me. That was why I fled that battle; I couldn't afford to let myself get killed with the information I possessed."

"...Why would my student want to kill you, Second Hokage-sama?" Kakashi asked, baffled.

"He was able to match my speed during our battle," Tobirama continued, ignoring the Jonin's question. "Despite being down one arm, he was able to contend with me in Taijutsu. He also possessed an extreme mastery of one-handed seal weaving, fire release, Fūinjutsu, battlespace control, and tactical timing. His fighting style, if described in one word, would be surgical. Also, he has awakened another one of the Uchiha's signature techniques. The Susanoo. I believe, without a doubt, that his iteration of the technique could permanently eliminate me in my current form.

"If I was to rate the boy on the bingo book's threat scale, I would advise, at the bare minimum, S-rank."

Ominous silence.

Sarutobi exhaled as he leaned back into his seat. At that moment, he appeared to have aged another decade.

The Third Hokage sighed again, feeling a sense of profound disorientation.

Somehow, without him even noticing, everything had gone terribly, terribly wrong.

035 - The Shinobi Amazons {PT. I}

NADESHIKO VILLAGE

We lounged languidly by the windowsill, looking out from the room we were provided up in the matriarch's tower at the village below. Beyond Nadeshiko's walls, a sprawling forest extended from the foot of the hill on which the community was perched towards the horizon. The sun had long since descended out of view, the night sky now adorned by a brilliant display of twinkling stars.

Even as we indulged ourself in the tranquillity of the moment, our attention never left the middle-aged medic applying medical ninjutsu to our battered form. Our senses remained trained on his chakra network, ensuring that the subtle genjutsu we actively sustained in his psyche remained effective as well as undetectable. Although we were perfectly capable of healing the damage we sustained during our battle with that living corpse of a Hokage on our own, we still maintained the facade of requiring external aid in a bid to lower our hostess' caution as well as explain our relatively easy acquiescence to entertain her request for dialogue.

Although we were perfectly cognizant of the fact that going as far as allowing an unknown shinobi the opportunity to peruse our body was a significant tactical risk, we still entertained it. However, we quickly realised it was quite a bit of a hassle to properly direct his subconscious so as not to inflict further damage to our body. After all, as a result of the Genjutsu weaved over his perception, the medic was effectively performing multiple, highly complex, medical procedures at once, blind, and without an accurate delineation of the body he was working on.

In the end, the process of getting him to focus on mending and restarting our primary heart while we prepared to transition control of our bloodstream to the organ from our secondary and tertiary hearts was especially tricky since there was a very significant risk of one—or potentially, both—of the rudimentary organs failing before the procedure was complete. The hearts were in no way developed enough to handle the strain we forced them to endure just a few dozen minutes prior and had sustained significant damage in the process. The possibility of us suffering a cardiac arrest rose substantially with every passing minute.

Of course, The medic, Yusuke, was completely ignorant of his contributions to our cause, believing the extreme chakra drain he was experiencing was used to mend multiple major fractures in our upper appendicular region, but that was beside the point.

None of the injuries we sustained were particularly life-threatening for so long as we had the opportunity to attend to them. Yusuke's contribution was even much less required, or desired, as in a few hours, we would have completely patched all the major injuries we sustained during our battle against Tobirama. Still, intuition told us that this was not an opportunity we could afford to let slip through our fingers. Especially not now that Konoha had thrown away all illusions of civility.

"There," Yusuke said as he finally sealed the puncture wound that ran through our right ventricle, "that should do it! Try moving your right arm, I want to see how that shoulder blade is holding up."

We complied with his request, rotating our arm in a full circle as our primary heart quivered, slowly restarting. We let the organ run for a few moments before shutting down our auxiliary hearts and closing off the redundant, non-essential blood vessels connected to them in order to initiate an accelerated cellular restoration procedure.

"How does it feel?" Yusuke asked.

"Better," we replied, flashing a smile at the man.

"Good. I have mended all the major fractures, so you ought not to feel any more pain. A few microfractures remain here and there though, but the bones will heal naturally in a few weeks, so try not to put too much strain on them. And get lots of rest, ok?"

"Understood."

"Good. When you are ready, tell the Kunoichi outside to take you to Lady Marika. She would be waiting for you."

"Thank you, Yusuke-san."

"Sure! Take care, Uchiha-san."

The door shut with a dull click as the medic vacated the room. Our gaze panned around to look at the village below one more time before we rose from our seat to retrieve a set of clothing set aside by our hosts for our convenience. It was a plain grey kimono; one without our clan's symbol proudly emblazoned on the back. It irked us that we had to wear this instead of the spare high-collars in our storage scroll, but certain sacrifices had to be made. At the moment our greatest weapon against Konoha remained our ability to stay discrete.

After exhaustively checking the garments for any signs of foul play we slipped into them, allowing the soft fabric to cover our gruesomely scarred flesh, as well as the few Fūinjutsu seals tattooed unto our skin for the sole purpose of screening our numerous bodily modifications from the prying eyes of Konoha's Hyuga operatives. Tightening the obi around our waist, we slipped into the pair of getas placed at the entrance.

The shoji slid open with a pleasant rasp as we exited the room. There, waiting by the door was an attractive, dark-haired Kuniochi.

"Take me to Lady Marika," we said to the woman.

"Yes, Uchiha-san," came her curt reply as she turned to lead us away.

036 - The Shinobi Amazons {PT. II}

NADESHIKO VILLAGE

"I don't care that he is a prodigious Uchiha, nor do I care about how talented he is or how compatible we would be together! I am not getting married to him!"

Marika rubbed her temple in frustration as her successor refused to see reason.

"Shizuka—"

"No, sensei! I am sorry, but I cannot do this! I already have someone I love!"

"Shizuka! Shizu—"

*bang*

Marika winced as the shoji was violently thrown open. She squeezed her eyes shut, praying to the gods that the door was undamaged. As she peeked past her lashes to examine the expensive fixture, silently praying not to have to be forced to have it replaced, her gaze caught her unruly student still standing at the door, seemingly unable to pass. The matriarch felt a flush of embarrassment as she realised who stood at the entrance.

"Humph!" her student puffed as she glared disdainfully at the Uchiha at the door. The scarred, one-armed boy moved to the side, allowing the rotten child to storm away.

Sasuke stared at Shizuka as she departed before glancing back at Marika seated seiza in the room, one eyebrow raised in apparent confusion.

"...I hope I am not intruding?" he asked without entering the room.

"No," Marike sighed, running her fingers through her hair. "No, you are not, Uchiha-san. Please, come in. Have a seat."

The boy nodded calmly before stepping into the room. Seeing him so polite made Marika feel a tad uncomfortable, a feeling of guilt rising in her heart as she fully realised what she was about to ask of him.

"Would you like some tea?" the matriarch asked.

"You did promise me some, didn't you? I really hope you aren't about to go back on your words."

Marika forced a laugh as the feeling of guilt in her heart grew. The next moment, however, she ruthlessly stamped down the emotion.

"Yui! Bring in the tea, please!" Marika ordered.

"Yes, Chīfu-sama," came a reply from beyond the paper-thin walls.

"How are you feeling now, Uchiha-san?" Marika asked, her attention panning back to the boy seated across from her.

"I'll live," he shrugged, throwing the matriarch off balance for a moment.

"...That's good to hear," Marika replied moments later, still unsure if it was the most appropriate thing to say in response. Thankfully, just as she was struggling to find the best angle to change the topic without coming off as awkward, Yui entered the room with the requested refreshments, momentarily distracting her guest.

"Thank you," the Uchiha whispered, flashing a smile at the kunoichi who offered him the tea. Yui, of course, possessing the right amount of social intelligence required of her post, did not display any outward reaction as the Uchiha's raw scars scrunched up with his smile. She simply smiled back in response, nodding, before turning to leave the room.

Marika watched the boy as he took an exploratory sniff of the beverage in his hands before taking a sip from the cup.

"Excellent tea," he complimented simply. Marika couldn't tell if he liked it or not.

"I have had some tea," the boy continued, his smile polite, "so what is it you wanted to talk to me about, Lady Marika?"

"Straight to the point are we?" Marika replied, returning the smile. "I can appreciate that, but before we begin, I wanted to ask what are your opinions about my village."

"My opinions? I am not sure if my opinions on this matter would be of any significant value, Lady Marika. Given Nadeshiko's area of influence never once in its history overlapped with Konoha's, nor did I personally have any tangible connections to this region, I never felt the need to properly educate myself on it. At best, I know some surface-level information, but we both know data that ungrounded would be subjected to significant bias, hence, rendering it worthless. As for what opinions I have formed about the village since my arrival? I do not believe I have stayed here long enough to be able to provide an informed judgment."

Marika nodded, finding herself less guilty and more pleased with her choice the longer she stayed in the boy's presence. "That is understandable," she replied. "Given you have established how little you know of this place, I would like to educate you a little. Would that be ok, Uchiha-san?"

"Of course, go ahead."

"Well, to begin, this entire island is under the military jurisdiction of this village. We have no daimyō that we report to, and instead have an economic relationship with the local lords. We maintain law and order in these regions, protect the shipping lanes, and handle all shinobi contracts required of us as part of our civil obligation and in exchange, we receive funding from the lords who are delegated the task of managing the rest of the populace.

"Also unlike Konoha, matters of succession here are completely internal, fully independent of outside influence. Families of this village are organised through matrilineality and rulers are chosen via a democratic process during which all major family heads cast a vote to choose amongst a short list of nominees who they would want to take the reins after the previous leader passes. Strength is admired here above all, hence, women from this village must venture outside to find men strong enough to defeat them for marriage."

"...I see," was all the Uchiha said in response.

"...What do you think of my successor, Uchiha-san?" Marika tried again.

"...I know it is easy to forget due to how much further my body has developed compared to my peers, but I hope you do remember I am thirteen?" the boy asked, amused.

Marika winced internally but powered on, keeping the emotion off her face. "When it comes to matters of succession, Uchiha-san, age becomes irrelevant. Disregarding your age, you are very much qualified to be my successor's consort."

The boy snorted at that, his gaze narrowing. "I also hope you remember, I am an Uchiha. A patriarch of the noblest of clans. I am no one's consort."

Marika took a sip from her cup. "Fine, we could have a marriage of equals. It won't be the first time such a thing would be happening in Nadeshiko's illustrious history."

"...That sounds more acceptable," —Marika breathes a sigh of relief— "but for what reason on earth should I wed myself to your successor?"

The matriarch froze, the cup she was bringing to her mouth pausing in mid-air. She looked up to meet the Uchiha's blank stare, confused.

"...What?"

037 - The Shinobi Amazons {PT. III}

NADESHIKO VILLAGE

"...I don't understand what you mean, Uchiha-san?" Marika replied, a sinking feeling rising in her chest. Rarely does one turn the hand of a kunoichi from Nadeshiko, especially not one as attractive as Shizuka. Marika groaned as the image of a white-haired man with a red line extending from under his eyes surfaced in her mind.

Not him too!

"I mean, why should I have to settle with your successor?" the Uchiha continued with all the calmness of a stern father berating his favourite daughter. "In case you've forgotten, I am quite literally the last living, marriageable Uchiha; a prodigy born from a line of exceptional shinobis. My ancestors succeeded the legendary Madara Uchiha and maintained headship of the clan for over a century through nothing but sheer competence. My father before me was regarded as a monstrous shinobi, having earned himself the title Evil Eye Fugaku on the battlefields of the Third Shinobi Wars. I myself inherited a derivative of his title via my own effort at the age of six.

"Even the accursed weasel that shares my lineage is no slouch having proved him instrumental in the systematic extermination of my noble clan.

"With all this empirical data, I believe it should be safe to assume that any progeny sired of my seed would possess immense potential. Even without considering any of that, simply the fact that any progeny sired of my seed would be near-guaranteed to possess my clan's signature dojutsu, the Sharingan, should be more than enough reason to explain why I would be hesitant to breed your successor. You are quite literally asking for me to hand over an invaluable kekkei genkai in exchange for… the privilege to wed your successor? That's absurd."

Marika placed her cup down on the table, her gaze trained on the young man seated across from her. The Uchiha stared back, undaunted, as he took a sip from his cup. Despite all that had been said, Marika could feel the hope and anticipation budding in her heart.

Why?

He hadn't left yet, that's why.

The smug bastard was bargaining!

Marika licked her lips as she subconsciously revised her reply. "What would it take for a wedding between you two to take place?"

"Nothing," the Uchiha replied, confusing her. "A wedding simply cannot take place. She is to be my consort; I would breed her, fulfilling her societal obligation to bear children for a powerful man. Also, your village gets the most talented female child born of our union as its successor. That's a win no matter how you look at it."

Marika shook her head in opposition to his demands. "That is impossible, Uchiha-san. The leader of Nadeshiko cannot be subordinated to another; this is one of the oldest rules that shape the matters of succession in this village. Shizuka simply cannot become your consort if she is to become chief."

"Then find another to take her place."

Marika shook her head again. "It has to be Shizuka."

The Uchiha fell silent as he observed her silently. "Daughter?"

"Niece," Marika replied.

"Ah… nepotism at its finest," the young man sighed. "Fine then, she can choose not to be my consort and still bear my progeny so long as she swears off marriage to another; this oath is to be upheld by the village at the threat of her life. I would tolerate no stains to the Uchiha name. Not any more."

Marika gritted her teeth together. "...Fine."

"Now that we've found common ground, let's discuss what this would cost you…"

The matriarch dreaded where the conversation was now heading. "What do you want?" she asked warily.

"First, I intend to punish Konoha for their crimes against my clan. Openly attacking the patriarch of a clan is more than enough reason to declare war. I would require Nadeshiko to provide military aid in that regard."

"I would not be dragging my village into a conflict against Konoha for you, Uchiha-san," Marika refused immediately.

"Understandable," the Uchiha replied. "To be honest, I would prefer my connection to this village remained a secret for as long as possible anyway so we agree in this regard. All I require from Nadeshiko is materiel support, not personnel. Not a single kunoichi needs to leave the village to fight my war, but I expect to be able to use your explosive tags and storage seals on the battlefield, as well as sufficient funding to hire mercenary-nin in place of the kunoichis that would have seen battle otherwise."

"...We would need to work out the details of this at a later date, but it can be arranged.'

"Good. Now for my second request, I would be requiring a maximum security facility in which I can store a high-value… prisoner."

"...Who is this prisoner exactly?"

"A Hyuga. I intend to collect one for research purposes and would require a discrete location to store such an individual."

"...Odd, but that can also be arranged."

"Wonderful. And for the final request, I want a signed agreement guaranteeing that even if Nadeshiko refuses to join the Uchiha clan's side in the event of any conflict from now henceforth, they would remain completely neutral. Also, during said conflict, even if Nadeshiko remains neutral they would still maintain economic ties with the Uchiha clan and its allies, whilst completely cutting off trade with its enemies."

Marika paused at that one as she considered its far-reaching implications. She almost turned the young man down at that, but the prospect of gaining a kekkei genkai as potent as the Sharingan for her village made her hesitate. In her state of indecisiveness, she questioned herself regarding the possibility of the Uchiha getting into a conflict with another hidden village and quickly realised how unlikely it was. There was also, the matter of whether the boy would survive long enough for that to actually become an issue with his apparent insistence to escalate a conflict with Konoha. The most likely scenario would be the young man lying dead on some battlefield somewhere in a few months, leaving behind Shizuka bearing the Uchiha's only heir and Nadeshiko as the sole remaining custodians of the Sharingan.

"...Fine, that can also be arranged," she said, a smile threatening to curl her lips at the thought.

"Good." the Uchiha nodded in approval.

Marika watched as he took another sip of his tea before suggesting hesitantly. "...I would advise you laid low here until you come of age; I would feel more comfortable making actual investments in this plan of yours when my successor is with child."

"No need," the Uchiha replied. "I am virile as I am; as long as the girl is ready, we can get started. You can use the few weeks it would take for the signs of fertilization to appear to begin fulfilling our agreement and everyone stays happy. It might not seem like it, but I am currently running on a timetable. In a few months, this agreement would no longer be as appealing to me as it is now, and if, somehow, I even still consider it worthwhile then, we might need to renegotiate the whole deal. I am not sure you would be so willing to agree then."

Marika frowned. "...Are you sure?"

"Of course, I am sure. You can't claim to know my body better than I do. But if you still have your doubts, you can have Yusuke-san arrange a test. That ought to clear things up, no?"

Marika's brows remained furrowed. "I am still not comfortable pushing things so fast. Can't you try to push back whatever it is you have planned for a few months at least? She is a normally quiet child, but at the moment, I don't think Shizuka would even tolerate, much less agree, to this at all."

"That's none of my concern," the Uchiha replied, his countenance suddenly turning cold. "If she remains indecisive or refuses to come to terms with the reality of things in a week from now—I don't care if she is your niece or whatnot—go find someone else. If a week passes and you still yet have not found a girl for me to put a child into, I will take my leave. If our paths cross after that we might revisit this matter at such a time if it is convenient for us both.

"Either way, goodnight, Lady Marika. I must have my rest. Medic's orders."

And with that, Sasuke rose, leaving the woman to her thoughts.

038 - Courting Death

NADESHIKO VILLAGE

"Musume-sama, may I come in?"

"...No."

Shizuka refused to look up as the door slid open. "I don't remember permitting you to enter, Tokiwa," she said, pulling her knees closer to her bosom.

"Then I must apologise," came a sedated reply. Shizuka finally looked up, her defiant gaze rising to meet that of her attendant. The older woman sighed as she plopped down beside her, saying nothing as she placed a consoling hand on Shizuka's back.

"Why?" the distraught girl asked, her green eyes watering. "Why must they force us apart?"

Shizuka waited, her teary eyes trembling as they searched for an answer in the woman's eyes. But, alas, there was no answer to be found. Shizuka looked away as she shrugged off Tokiwa's hand. Incensed.

Tokiwa sighed again. "...You might hate Lady Marika for this, but remember, all she is doing, she is doing for your future and the future of the—"

"I don't want to hear it!" Shizuka snapped. The room lulled into an awkward silence.

Another sigh. "...It's been three days since you locked yourself inside this room. We are all getting worried about you."

"Well, I don't care!" Shizuka replied. "You should all leave me alone!"

"All of us? Even Sagiri?"

Shizuka looked up in surprise.

"What? You didn't expect him to go bumbling around the village like some love-struck fool—poking his nose in places where it has absolutely no business—when you suddenly decided to disappear from the face of the earth, did you? I am starting to doubt whether or not you really know the boy."

"...He is here?"

"Of course, he is here," Tokiwa exclaimed. "And with the sort of nuisance he is making of himself, I am surprised someone hasn't knocked him bloody yet."

Shizuka paled as she threw her blanket off her knees before sprinting out of the room.

"Oi! Musume-sama! Wait!"

Shizuka ignored the shouts of the attendant as she burst out into the courtyard. There she saw her beloved in a heated argument with Elder Himeko. The elderly woman might have been a bit past her prime, but she was still far beyond what a civilian could ever hope to contend with; evidenced by how easily she manhandled the young man.

She was, and still is, an elite kunoichi after all.

Sagiri, however, seemed to have forgotten this fact given the choice of words he hurled at the elderly kunoichi as they argued with each other. Shizuka felt her heartrate spike as her beloved wandered past the point of no return, hurling embarrassingly colourful insults at Elder Himeko regarding her "runaway" gallivant of a husband; a rather sore topic for the middle-aged woman.

Shizuka raced forward, yanking the firebrand out of the elderly kunoichi's reach by the ear before he got himself killed. Her sudden appearance only seemed to further amuse Elder Katsura who cackled to herself as she observed the proceedings from a safe distance away. To Shizuka's consternation, a small crowd had already gathered to watch the drama unfold.

"I am going to kill this gigolo!" Elder Himeko snarled, wind nature chakra gathering in the palm of her hands.

"Elder!" Shizuka exclaimed placing herself between Sagiri and the volatile woman. "Please wait!"

As if just registering Shizuka's arrival, Elder Himeko paused, her gaze finally focusing on the girl. The tense stare-down continued for a few seconds with Katsura cackling as obnoxiously as possible in the background and the crowd whispering furiously to itself. It continued for a few seconds more, but thankfully Himeko was as quick to forgive as she was to anger. Shizuka breathed a sigh of relief as the middle-aged woman turned around to leave with a huff.

"You disappoint me, Shizuka."

Shizuka stared at the departing Himeko, a hollow feeling echoing in her chest as she registered the sheer disenchantment in the elder's voice. The young kunoichi exhaled, however, as she hardened her heart.

"Don't mind her, Shizuka-chan!" Katsura cupped her mouth and shouted from where she stood in the distance. "I like the kid! He is useless, but at least he's got guts! I support your choice regardless of how stupid it is!"

Shizuka winced at the words of encouragement, her chin dropping as an embarrassed flush stained her face red.

"Are you all right?" Sagiri asked behind her. Shizuka swivelled on her feet to glare at the fool before slapping him across the face.

"Idiot! You almost got yourself killed!"

The young man caressed his smarting cheek as he stared at her in confusion. "...I'm sorry?"

Shizuka's glare intensified. "Never do that again!"

"Yes, ma'am!"

Content with his response she grabbed him by the waist before flickering away to somewhere more secluded.

"I might never get used to—oof!"

Shizuka ignored his complaints, squeezing his midsection as hard as she could in a hug without actually hurting him. "Idiot…" she sniffled, trying her hardest to hold her tears back, albeit with little success.

"...Shizuka?"

"I am sorry," she groaned, wiping her face.

"Shizuka? What's the matter?"

"I-I am sorry—hic—they are trying to force me to get married to someone else."

Shizuka felt her heart bleed as her beloved's face hardened.

"...Don't worry," he said, rubbing circles into her back. "We'll sort it out."

"How?" Shizuka sobbed, unable to contain herself. 'They've all but given me to that bastard. He doesn't even want me! Not as a wife at least; treating me like some breeding mare to birth his accursed spawn!"

Sagiri's hold on her tightened protectively. 'I won't let them do that to you," he said. "...We could leave. We could go back to my family on O'Ozu Island."

Shizuka smiled sadly at his naivety. "I am a kunoichi, Sagiri. If I leave they would hunt us both down as criminals."

"...There has to be something we can do!"

Shizuka sniffled, finally coming to terms with their situation. "...This might be the last time we meet each other like this. I am sorry."

She turned to leave, but Sagiri held her arm to stop her from leaving. It should been absurdly easy for her to release herself from his grasp, or even, avoid it altogether, but she didn't, clearly reluctant to leave.

"No!" Sagiri said, pulling her to face him. "I can't let you go like this! No without fighting for a chance for us first!"

"...What do we do?"

"...Who is he?"

Shizuka froze at the question. "...I-I can't tell you that," she stammered.

"Why?"

"...I-I just can't."

The conversation lulled into an uneasy silence. Then to Shizuka's surprise, Sagiri turned around to leave.

"Where are you going?"

"To find the bastard! Since you can't tell me, I will find him myself."

"No! Wait! You can't!"

"Then take me to him!"

"...But why? Doing this would achieve nothing."

Sagiri stopped, turning to face her. "Take me to him, Shizuka," he pleaded.

"Please."

039 - To Love is to Sacrifice…

NADESHIKO VILLAGE

Shizuka was unsure if she was stupid, or just insane. Her heart thundered as she led Sagiri up the tower towards the Uchiha's temporary abode. She had not seen her presumed sperm donor since her last meeting with Lady Marika, nor could she claim to have any sort of handle on his temperament. Confronting a shinobi of his calibre over a matter like this seemed to her the kind of thing she should not be allowing her beloved to do, but, alas, he refuses to see reason.

Shizuka stopped at the door her hand reaching for it but falling short. She glanced back at Sagiri, shooting him a pleading stare. He smiled in a comforting, nodding for her to proceed. Shizuka sighed as she turned back to face the door.

Lady Marika would have my hide for this…

*knock* *knock*

"It's open," drawled a disgustingly silken voice within.

Shizuka pulled the door open. Inside the room, her eyes met Yusuke-san's. The medic's expression displayed relief as he saw it was her. However, his elated expression quickly morphed into confusion, then disapproval as Sagiri entered the room behind her.

The Uchiha he was tending to stared at her expressionlessly. "What do you want?" he asked as Yusuke deactivated his medical ninjutsu. Shizuka was shocked to find the gruesome scars on his face had disappeared, healed away by the experienced medic. It wasn't the transmogrification that surprised Shizuka—after all, such procedures were common in Nadeshiko where the majority of battle-ready personnel were Kunoichi whose future literally depended on their ability to retain their beauty—what surprised her was the fact Lady Marika approved the technique be used on him…

Only members of the village were allowed that privilege.

The realisation thickened the feeling of despair in her heart.

Ignorant of her thoughts, Sagiri walked forward to address the former Konoha-nin. "Good afternoon," he said, amusing a respectable stance, "nice to meet you. I am Sagiri."

The Uchiha glanced at her beloved before looking back at her. "What do you want?" he asked again.

Rudely.

Shizuka's eyes narrowed as she realised what he was doing. Too bad she wasn't in the mood for games at the moment.

'I want you to call off this farce," she spat, glaring at the shinobi

"Why are you here then?" the Uchiha asked, much to her surprise. "Get out. Go find your aunt and pester her about that."

Shizuka exchanged glances with Sagiri as the Uchiha turned his attention back out the window, clearly dismissing them. Yusuke glanced at them before shrugging as he reactivated his medical ninjutsu and returned to transmogrifying the Uchiha's appearance.

"...N-no?" Shizuka said hesitantly, unsure of what to do. "I… I want you to tell Lady Marika you have no interest in me and she should choose someone else."

The Uchiha ignored her.

"I am not leaving here until you call it off."

That elicited a response. The Uchiha sighed, gesturing for Yusuke-san to halt the procedure before turning to face her again.

"...Do I look like I have any interest in you?" he asked blandly. "Even scarred and crippled as I am, my list of potential spouses dwarfs the number of people you have seen since your birth… and that's putting it modestly. I have no use for you, no desire for you, and no vested interest in having you mother any of my children. The only reason I agreed to this is because I weighed the value of going through all of this, and concluded it was, in the long term, worth the hassle involved. If you have any complaints regarding this arrangement I have with your village, I suggest you take it up with Lady Marika; I did tell her it didn't really matter who the girl was after all."

"That's a lie," Shizuka snapped. "Aunt said it was agreed upon that it had to be me."

"Of course, it was agreed upon," the Uchiha drawled impatiently. "It was agreed upon between herself and your village elders that it had to be you … Did you really think, for one moment that they would let you two be together? If so, then you must be more naive than I thought you were."

"...What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh? Do you think the village is just going to roll over and accept the demands of a random civilian? Demands, which I might add, involve the abolishment of the age-old laws and customs that have preserved this village's existence through the three Great Shinobi Wars.

"Did you think that if kunoichis such as yourself did not go out to find spouses such as myself, but instead settled with weak, defenceless civilians such as your friend here, Nadeshiko would still exist? From what I have heard, what's-his-name, foolishly—selfishly, if I might add—intends to change these very laws that have preserved your people's existence since time immemorial. I am frankly surprised he hasn't been killed off yet by the village elders as he and the ideology he purports are clearly threats to Nadeshiko's very existence. Where I come from, neither myself nor my family were shown such leniency. Your leader must really care about you if she is willing to risk the village's future just to entertain your little dalliances. You should be grateful."

Shizuka felt a pit form in her stomach as the truths she had been refusing to acknowledge for a while now were brought to the forefront of her mind. They wouldn't be so cruel, she thought—hoped—imagining one day waking up to Sagiri's cold corpse. She shuddered as she reached for her beloved's sleeve. She didn't want to be here anymore. She needed a breath of fresh air to clear her mind. But obviously, Sagiri's stubbornness decided to shine through at that moment.

"I do not fear death," he said, glaring at the Uchiha. The boy's onyx eyes panned to regard him.

"Then you are a fool," he said, speaking to Sagiri for the first time since their arrival. "A fool and a coward."

"...How is refusing to accept a foolish, archaic custom cowardice?" Sagiri sneered.

"You are too cowardly to sacrifice so your love might live on. If you continue on this path, your death is guaranteed, I assure you. I know it. You know it. We all know it. You will be killed by the roadside like a common pest, without an afterthought on the part of your murderers… But after you are dead what happens? Shizuka became heartbroken and stopped loving so she would never lose someone dear to her again—punishing herself, because she knows, deep down, she had a hand in your death. Or worse, she grows to despise her family which leads her to do something stupid. Or she could just kill herself and get it over with."

Yusuke gasped at the boy's callous words. The Uchiha however didn't seem to register or care about the medic's reaction.

"Is that what you want?" he asked. "If so, you are a coward. And a failure as a lover…

"For to love is to sacrifice."

The Uchiha's words ended on an otherworldly note.

The room lulled into a strange silence. Shizuka turned to look at her beloved. He looked back at her, his expression conflicted. Her heart wound in a knot as a certain realisation settled in her heart. Her subconscious pleaded for her to hold her tongue, but her heart knew what it had to do.

For to love is to sacrifice…

"...I am sorry," Shizuka said as she let hand reaching for Sagiri's sleeve fall. She felt a line of tears run down her cheek as she resolved her heart. Sagiri reached for her but sighed as he also let his hand drop.

"Take care of yourself," he said, smiling.

Shizuka sniffed, wiping her eyes as she turned to face the Uchiha. "Fine! I'll do—" she began, only to trail off as she realised something odd was going on. The Uchiha sat stock still, his gaze blank as black markings appeared around his face, neck and exposed upper torso. Her senses as a Kunoichi rang out in alarm as the boy seated before her suddenly began to amass chakra at a terrifying rate. Even Sagiri seemed to sense it as he took a step back from the boy.

"...What's going on?" he asked, staring cautiously at the Uchiha staring blankly into space.

"He's amassing… chakra?" Shizuka replied.

"It's not chakra," a voice said behind her. Shizuka turned around to see Lady Marika standing by the entrance.

"...Since when have you been there?" Shizuka asked.

"A while," replied the Matriarch. "We should talk later. Yusuke. We are leaving this place. Now."

"...What about my patient?" the medic protested. "Something is clearly wrong here. No one should be able to amass chakra this quickly. Or in these amounts. It's unnatural."

"Oh, there's nothing unnatural about this," Lady Marika said with a smile. "He should be fine. Maybe. I am not sure. I have seen something like this before; a little while before I met my husband I met another shinobi from Konoha whom I fought to a stand-still. He used a technique similar to this."

A technique that lets you amass chakra in these amounts? No wonder he fought Aunt to a standstill!

But as if reading her mind, Lady Marika spoke again.

"It's not chakra. He is amassing natural energy; he seems to have just achieved a breakthrough in his understanding of the technique. We must leave now. Epiphanies such as this are already hard to come by. It would be unforgivable to deprive him of it by accident."

040 - The Primordial Tree-hugger

NADESHIKO VILLAGE

To love is to sacrifice…

We relished the sensation of natural energy coursing through our meridians. Our chakra network buzzed pleasantly as we felt the world's essence pour into us.

It was intoxicating!

To love is to sacrifice…

The feeling inebriated us so much that we scarcely reacted when the others vacated the room. Our inattentiveness towards our immediate surroundings greatly alarmed us on a subconscious level, but we were already far beyond the point of truly caring.

To love is to sacrifice…

This sensation… this connection. How long have we longed for it? How many years have we spent, in a ponderous haze, searching for a way to better intimately comprehend the world around us? We had always been able to perceive this existence, but never truly touch beyond our mortal shell. Like a precious art piece hidden behind a glass screen, we could only observe. It eluded us constantly, flittering just beyond our grasp. Taunting.

To love is to sacrifice…

How many years had we wasted wooing creation herself in our quest to achieve understanding? How many times had she dismissed our advances with a disdainful air, regarding us as… aberrant. Alien.

How many years lost?

"…"

…How could we have been so blind?

To love is to sacrifice… Such a simple phrase, yet one we never paused to contemplate in our entitled hubris and arrogance!

How could we have been so blind? So foolish!

And of course, it had to be something as innocuous as us metaphysically acknowledging our attachment to our clan for this existence to begin to regard us as one of its own. The pettish, shrewish thing.

We inhaled, drawing in even more natural energy. The stream of essence rushed into our chakra network as we attempted to blend it with our physical and spiritual energies. But, alas, to no avail. We tried again, and again until it became glaringly obvious we could proceed no further. The imbalance between our spiritual and physical energies was simply too great to overcome; far too Yin-aligned to be considered natural. What had previously been an unprecedented boon to our progress as a shinobi now stymied our ability to progress further where it truly mattered. So, yet again, creation rejects our advances, turning down our attempts at communion.

With a reluctant sigh, we stopped drawing in the world's essence, wary of overloading our system and permanently damaging our mortal shell. We let the energy we had gathered so far disperse into the atmosphere.

But though we failed we were still in a very pleasant mood. We had made progress; more so than we had been graced with as of recently. We rose from our seat with a stretch, blinking our eyes back into focus. We looked outside to see the sun had already set. Nighttime.

"Tokiwa, right?" we said, addressing the kunoichi standing in the leftmost corner of the room. The woman seemed skilled enough; her attempt at hiding in plain sight using Chameleon Jutsu would have been rather effective had it not been used against us.

"...Yes?" she replied hesitantly.

"Could you please help me pass a request to Lady Marika? I would like to know if you have any death row inmates you wouldn't mind giving to me."

"...How many do you need?"

"Two would be fine."

"...Any other specifics?"

"No, not really. As long as they are shinobi it should be fine."

"...Understood."

We smiled as the kunoichi flickered away, leaving us to our devices. With a disinterested sniff, we lifted the bottom end of our kimono to inspect our left ankle; or more specifically, the location on our person that Tobirama fellow marked us with his technique formula. Obviously, we had sealed the dimensional anchor with a seal of our own to prevent the pest from teleporting to our side unannounced. Even now we could feel his intent pushing futilely against our barrier.

We let our Sharingan surface, the Dojutsu instantly revealing the inner workings of the other shinobi's design. Despite our misgivings about the Senju, we had to concede to the ingeniousness of his creation. We observed as his chakra leaked out of the dimensional void just beyond the seal in his attempt to come out.

In a way, it was fascinating to observe as his chakra protectively shrouded him within the void, preventing the spontaneous obliteration of his existence as it traversed planes it had no business traversing. We stopped ourself from reaching for the Kage himself on the other end as there was no point in alerting him to his blunder. Instead, we explored the numerous anchors he had planted all throughout the entirety of his life span… and beyond.

With a smile, we coated our index finger in chakra before tapping on the windowsill. Through our Dojutsu, we watched as a perfect replica of his technique formula appeared on the fixture. We tried removing it, but for some reason, the connection between this reality and that region of the dimension refused to be dispelled. With a shrug, we placed another seal over the dimensional anchor, essentially locking out anyone else who wasn't us from using it.

We resolved to properly explore this newly acquired strategic advantage at a later time, filing the matter. With that out of the way, we looked up to regard Tokiwa who had just returned from her errand.

"Lady Marika approved your request," she said. "Would you prefer to have the prisoners brought to you?"

"No," we replied. "Take me to them; I would hate to make a mess here."

For a long moment, the woman stared strangely at us. In the end, though, she said nothing in response as she turned around to lead us to our next destination."

…

We were led down a dark gloomy hallway. Buried deep in the guts of the village was a heavily restricted area, barely lit and crawling with special operatives. The military prison was everything we imagined it to be; harsh, inhumane conditions, constant isolation and surveillance, and a glaring focus on abuse and torture.

You know, the good stuff.

Our trek through the corridor of wondrous horrors sadly soon came to an end as Tokiwa stopped in front of a cell holding two male inmates.

"These two here are Takeru and Oguri," she said gesturing to the malnourished men in the cell. "Both formerly Chunin-ranked shinobi from the village hidden in the mist. They were most likely deserters when we apprehended them. Both are suspected of being guilty of the rape and murder of a Genin of our village. The poor child had just graduated from the academy and was on her first mission when she got separated from her team and ended up stumbling into the clutches of these miscreants..."

We glanced at the kunoichi beside us from the periphery of our vision as she gave us the unsolicited debriefing. To be frank, we really did not care whatsoever about the backstory of these two or how heinous their crimes were. Humans were worthless in that regard, with their apparently ingrained nature to ill-treat their fellows. The crimes of this duo would at the end of the day amount to nothing more than a blip in the millennia-long list of evil their race had and would continue to inflict upon itself.

Still, we had to put up appearances. We were being evaluated after all; nothing new. We let our gaze harden into a perfected facsimile of a glare. Our posture stiffened minutely in barely concealed rage and our chakra did a little churn to really sell the display.

"Then I guess you would have no problems regarding what I plan to do to them then," we said as we reached for the seal keeping the sacrifices imprisoned. The barrier shattered as we touched it, mildly alarming the woman beside us.

"Come," we told the malnourished men. Under the effects of our Sharingan, the thralls walked forward, stopping just an arm's length away from us.

"Kneel," we said as we cut the tip of our index finger. We caught the blood that dripped out in a film of chakra, before reaching out to draw seals on the duo's foreheads. Our intent heaved and the chakra-infused blood flared, burning the seal into their flesh.

Content with the result, we took two steps back. "You might want to give them a bit of space," we told Tokiwa.

*Katate-hebi*

*Katate-tora*

*Katate-uma*

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then suddenly, the seal on the thralls' foreheads sizzled in a flash as it drew violently on their chakra pools. The sudden disturbance in their chakra freed the thralls from our Genjutsu; both fell to the ground screaming loudly as their bodies began to bloat unnaturally under the effect of the technique. This process continued for a while, and by the time that step was complete, the sacrifices had fallen unconscious, and their inhumane screams no longer echoed through the facility.

Slowly, their limp engorged bodies deflated, morphing to assume the template we had imagined when we branded them with the seals. Our chakra drained as their malnourished bodies assumed a healthier appearance. Their facial features assumed more feminine forms, their hips flared and their chests filled out with mammaries. The hair on their heads fell out and a luscious brush immediately grew to replace it.

For the climax, we split two slivers of our soul from the main mass before implanting them in thralls, observing carefully to ensure the original souls and the memories attached were fully consumed and their personalities completely erased.

The two new blood clones slowly rose to their feet. We nodded in contentment as they tested their new limbs, acquainting themselves with their newfound mortality. On our part, as expected, our total chakra pool was, at the moment, reduced to a third of its original capacity, but unlike the inferior shadow clone jutsu the effect would wear out in a few weeks.

"...What did you just do?" the Kunoichi in attendance asked, pale-faced.

We smiled at her. "Nothing. I just recycled the trash."

INTERLUDE (4.1) (r18)

NADESHIKO VILLAGE

Shizuka stared at the door finding herself unable to go beyond it. Her hand hovered inches away from the fixture; hesitant. She bit her lower lip in frustration as she tried again to steel her resolve, only to fail once more. She was terrified, she realised. Petrified by the presence that lay beyond.

Shizuka had earlier made the misguided assumption that she was prepared for the undertaking required of her by her village. She had bid her beloved a sorrowful farewell, seeing him well beyond the village's borders; Sagiri, heartbroken, yet understanding of her plight, was on route to return to his homeland to continue his family business.

Upon her return, she had spoken to her master with such confidence, assuring her she was prepared for the task ahead. She had let her fellow kunoichis prepare her for the occasion; her body washed with rose-scented water, her hair braided, and her cheeks powdered as one would a high-class Geisha.

On her shoulders hung a flowing kimono of the softest silk; a dress fitting for a bride who was one all but in name.

The kunoichi inhaled, forcing her nervousness down as reached for the door. Every inch was one hard-won, but eventually, her fingertips touched the smooth lacquered wood; the shoji slid open with a soft, sinister hiss as it ushered her entrance in.

"...And here I was thinking you wouldn't have the resolve to come in," said a voice within. The speaker was calm and in control; everything Shizuka wished to be at that moment.

She glanced up to meet his placid gaze. Uchiha Sasuke… His horrid burns now healed off, she could see where all the high praise showered on him originated from. Young, strong, beautiful… very beautiful, very brilliant—haunted, hopeless. He was most things her beloved was not. Rumoured not to fear enemies or fear collecting enemies. A charming, sociable recluse.

A strange description, yes, but that was what the dossier on him claimed.

Her consort-cum-master-cum-partner regarded her with a side eye, his body profile oriented towards the open window at the other end of the room. Shizuka sensed a disdainful flavour to his stare. At this, she felt anger bubble within her.

He was looking down on her!

The gall of this boy!

Incensed, Shizuka sniffed, raising her chin in a manner that similarly radiated disdain as she sauntered into the room, her earlier trepidation entirely forgotten.

"I am here!" she announced curtly. "Let's get this done with."

In response, he raised his eyes, and she saw a gleam go across his blacks in quickness. He did not appreciate her attitude; still, he did not reject it, begrudging her at least that much. After a moment's silence, he turned and took her to bed. Hovering above her, his insolent hand tugging at her dress to reveal her shoulders and bosom, she saw his Sharingan descend, stark and vivid in his face, planes of which were brushed by black hair. Then he held her long hair to his nose, inhaling its latent scents, his eyes closing, face changing, red rising to his countenance.

Arousal.

With a muffled grunt, he slipped between her open thighs. He was much too robust for one his age. Her maidenhead tore violently; she squinted as pain radiated through her groin, a trickle of warmth running down her thighs. At first, it hurt: soon, his thrusts turned hypnotic for her flesh.

Shizuka could not bring herself to say she hated the act

She could not tell if he had been with many women before—or any woman at all. It was hard to tell with him. She felt him intensely inside. His strokes were not gentle, harsh; but her groove quickly grew used to the shape of his organ that it accepted him readily.

Pressing body upon body, soon it was all frantic movements from her end. Unable to help her baser nature, her hips pushed against his, innards tingling with the wet slides of his movements. Her hands pawed at his broad back.

His lips sought her, but she rebuffed him, finding herself unwilling to indulge him further. In retaliation, he bit her neck harshly; she moaned at the sudden pain, her innards contracting as she wrapped her legs around him.

And it went on and on and on—till she grew weary of the vibrations that he induced in her system. His movement grew faster, deeper, and she knew he was close; she encouraged, tightening her grip around him; his organ pulsed, expanded, expelled, his pelvis smacking against her engorged member briskly in a rhythm that quickened by the second.

The weight that flooded into her lower half released, and her backside was up off the bed for a moment. It passed and sank; and she sank back down along with it, feeling as his organ discharged his potent, valuable, chakra-rich essence into her uterus.

Releasing a quick breath, he rolled off her onto the futon, which was as wet as their bodies. The smell of him was in the air, tangy, a little bitter, but not unpleasant. He closed his eyes and opened them, looking up at the flickering silvers that went across the ceiling in broken and moving ellipses. She could not tell how he felt after their union.

Shizuka did not say a thing, rising to her feet to leave. She returned to her room soon after. There she crawled under her bedsheets, rolled onto her side and folded in on herself; in moments, sleep overcame her…

INTERLUDE (4.2)

NADESHIKO VILLAGE

We continued to stare at the ceiling as the door shoji slid shut. We felt strange; a certain hollowness in our guts as the Kunoichi departed. The feeling we found was eerily distracting. Annoying.

Depressing.

We did not enjoy it.

We turned off a few nerve bundles in our amygdala, utterly suppressing the unusual emotion. Our thoughts cleared and our breathing evened out. No longer distracted we could focus on more important things. We rose from the bloodstained futon, adjusting our garments as we made our way to the balcony outside.

"Tokiwa," we called. The woman had made a few adjustments to her approach to spying on us, but her attempts were, in our opinion, pitiful at best. For a few moments, the Kunoichi did not respond, possibly believing we were attempting to psyche her out.

"I know you are there, Tokiwa," we said, utterly disillusioning her of the notion, "behind the rafters, peeping like a little pervert through that chink in the roofing. Come out, I need you to pass a message along."

A few more moments passed before the kunoichi flickered before us, her face flushed red in embarrassment.

"...What do you need?" she asked after a momentary pulse of hesitation.

"Can you inform Lady Marika that I request an audience with her? It's rather urgent, you see."

"...Now?"

"Yes."

"...Understood," she replied before flickering out of sight.

"Is it time?" one of our blood clones asked, peeling off the wall.

We nodded our head in response.

"It is."

…

"Aren't you an impatient young man," Lady Marika tutted as we entered her room.

"Time is of the essence, Lady Marika," we replied, sitting on a cushion across from her. "I believe you of all people should understand this. I have fulfilled my end of the bargain, now I need you to show some sincerity."

The woman stared at us in silence for a few moments. We stared back blandly as we awaited her reply.

"Very well," she said finally. She reached into her sleeves and pulled out two scrolls, tossing them to us. We caught both, our Sharingan surfacing as we quickly examined them for foul play. The first was a storage scroll containing all the weapons, explosives, and funding we requested. The other scroll was a regular one. We frowned as we had not requested it.

"What is this?" we asked, instantly memorising the list of names and addresses in it.

"Your wedding gift," the Matriarch replied with a sigh. "It is a list of a few of our contacts spread out across the island nations; I reasoned you might find it valuable … You might not feel any attachment to her yet, but Shizuka is going to be the mother of your child. That makes us family, regardless of how… unorthodox the arrangement might be."

We looked up from the scroll at the woman, unsure of what to make of her gift. "...Thank you," we said in the end, pocketing the rather valuable scroll despite not needing it any longer.

"I will be leaving now," we tell her. "Can't say when I will be back, but please have my facility ready as soon as possible. I would rather have it available when I need it than not."

"I will make that a priority," Lady Marika said with a chuckle. "After all, I have to make sure you don't up and leave after knocking my niece up. That would just be terrible."

We feigned a smile as we rose to our feet, finding the jab more annoying than it ought to be. We turned off another bundle of nerves in our amygdala, again suppressing a spark of emotion that ought not to be, before responding. "Funny you would think I would leave one of mine in your care without supervision direct supervision on my part."

"...What do you mean?"

We gestured to one of the blood clones flanking us. "Kaigo would be staying behind to watch over the mother. When my child is born she would take the role of one of its caretakers. I hope you don't have a problem with that?"

"...No. Not at all. I hope you make good use of your gift; it would be a shame if you got yourself killed before the child is born."

"I will… Well, since you are being so generous, I was hoping you would be tolerant of another request?"

The Matriarch stared suspiciously at us for a few moments before giving a nod. "Go ahead."

"Can you please have copies of this delivered to as many Shinobi Villages as possible. Discreetly," we said handing her a scroll.

Curious, Lady Marika opened the document before skimming through it. "Oh," she said with a frown. "Now I see why you are so hell-bent on getting yourself killed… Hmm, trying to get yourself a moral victory I see?"

"Not really," we replied. "I just find any foe would be easier to defeat if they are already haemorrhaging from within. There's a reason "Defeat-in-Detail" and "Divide-and-Conquer" are such popular military tactics after all. Doubt Konoha would remain in one shape once that gets out. So, can it be done?"

"...I will try what I can," Lady Marika replied.

We smiled in response.

"Thank you… Aunty."

In the heart of Wave's now bustling commercial district, amidst the labyrinthine streets lined with wooden facades, stood a discreet yet imposing building. Haruki, the lanky lackey of the greatest man alive, stood silently across this miracle before resolutely marching in. It had quickly become something of a ritual to observe a moment of respectful silence before entering; some claimed they did this to reorient their minds for the world within. Others did this simply out of reverence to its owner.

For Haruki however, the office of the renowned business tycoon—and his direct superior—Jinrui Tanaka, was not a place one entered all willy-nilly. After all, one does not enter a dragon's lair, all willy-nilly.

It was simply common sense not to.

The building's elegant architecture—a testament to the craftsmanship of the era—exuded an air of sophistication. A pair of sliding doors opened to welcome him into a world where tradition melded seamlessly with commerce. The tatami mat flooring felt cool beneath his socked feet, and the soft light filtering through shoji screens cast a serene glow on the space within. Paintings depicting sweeping landscapes adorned the walls, while a delicate bonsai tree graced a corner, its branches meticulously pruned.

Clerks and bookkeepers, dressed in attire that mirrored his master's sense of refinement, moved with grace as they attended to their tasks. The rhythmic sound of brushes meeting paper created a gentle backdrop, punctuated by the occasional rustling of sliding doors as clients entered and departed.

Haruki walked into the designated social space, separated by a beautifully adorned shoji screen. Apparently, just behind the paper screen—soundproofed by Fūinjutsu seals—his master hosted a meeting. The lanky lackey sat patiently, waiting until a stately group exited with Master Jinrui in tow. Noble guests—local lords—dignified in their traditional attire, exchanged respectful bows with the Shinobi-cum-business man before taking their leave.

"Come." Was all the boss said before disappearing back into the room.

Haruki rose, exhaling as he followed, shutting the Shoji behind himself.

At a low wooden table, Jinrui Tanaka sat in his impeccably crafted kimono, a glaring symbol of his status. A calligraphy scroll hung behind him, its brushstrokes embodying the essence of harmony and success. By his side, a gold-glided typewriter rested atop a ledger, a subtle allusion to the Shinobi's impossible financial success.

Although a lacquered tea set occupied the centre of the low table—a clear invitation for the revered tea ceremony, a bridge between business and culture. A bridge that facilitated a delicate dance between tradition, commerce, and the cultivation of relationships that went beyond mere transactions—Haruki had no delusion of partaking in such a luxury at the moment.

He was here to fulfil a much graver task.

"Boss," he said, extending a scroll to his superior.

Jinrui received the reports in his hand with a frown on his face.

"...They turned us down?" he asked moments later as he rolled the scroll up, laying it gently on the table in front of him.

"Yes, boss," Haruki replied carefully. "Our contact in the Land of Water said the Water Daimyō's stance on non-intervention in foreign politics remains unchanged."

"Foreign politics!" The larger man scoffed. "We are asking for a partnership to stabilise the trade routes through his country and the fool spouts this bullshit? Forget him. Any update from the diplomatic team we sent to meet the new Mizukage? They ought to have finished grieving the fourth, no?"

"Yes, boss. Kento and his team should have reached Kiri, yes. Although they haven't sent any message back so I can't say for certain."

The boss chewed on the insides of his cheek as he digested the news.

"...So, in summary, because of this fool's cowardice, we are still stuck with only the Suisen-Benisu-Frost chain, the Sekai-Sabaku sea routes, and a handful of lanes in the Nagi sea? It's been three weeks and we still haven't made any progress out of these regions? That's poor form."

"...But boss," Haruki replied hesitantly, "we already have the majority of Gatō's assets, wouldn't it be better if we consolidate our gains rather can continue expanding."

Jinrui scoffed again in response. "Consolidate, he says? With the risk of important assets and routes falling into the grasp of our newfound competitors? We've already lost Yanwu and Sunafuki islands. Our access to the Glacier passage north and the dozens of lands beyond remains uncertain, nor we can't guarantee the security of our vessels should they attempt to venture into the Chiguri sea, and you are here suggesting we consolidate?"

"...I spoke out of turn boss. Forgive me."

Haruki winced as a tired sigh leaked from Jinrui's lips. "What about the agents from the Land of Fire? Have they started giving us any trouble yet?"

"No, sir. They still seem to be taking a wait-and-watch approach, sir. Although, we had some troublemakers harassing our ships docked at the Land of Noodle. Apparently, some local lord had been intending in filling the gap Gatō left behind after his demise and wasn't happy to hear we beat him to it. We could attempt to bring him as we did the one from Benisu?"

"Yes, do that. Just make sure he doesn't cause any more trouble. We can't afford distractions. Especially not now; the Chunin exams would be commencing in a month and a half. We need to be prepared to move the moment an opportunity presents itself. Understood?"

"Yes, boss!"