A/N: The requeeeeests! Everywhere I look! No escape!

Here we go, this is me, throwing my hat into the Jujutsu Kaisen arena.

Which I admittedly need to get caught up on, so please do have mercy on an old man...

I nearly retired with all that gltich nonsense going on with the site, but I'm still here...for now.

If this story gets a ton of feedback-hopefully!-then I'll do my best to ensure an early update again.

With my fifteen year anniversary on this site finally here, I find myself reflecting on the little things in life. What was once a pastime meant for me and a few friends really grew and evolved over time. There are days when I look back on the last fifteen years here and I wonder if anyone will remember me; if I made an impact, despite never making a single cent on any of these stories. Some days were happier than others, and some stories I enjoyed writing WAY too much; to the point where I'd stay up all night working on them.

And of course, there are times when I look to the future and wonder what will become of things when I'm gone.

Of course, I try not to dwell on the latter overmuch; I'm still alive and still writing. In an ideal world, I'd like to keep doing so for as long as I can. But old age is catching up to me and these days, the world is filled with so much madness and death. Feels like everyone's lost their minds sometimes. Even before that, so many friends and fellow writers I once knew are gone, now. Will I still be here in twenty years? Ten? Five? Its a chilling thought. But for now, I'm still here, still writing.

So here we go. The fate of this story depends on you, the reader. Your feedback determines the fate of this tale, and many others.

I'm just a humble author trying to make his way in this wild world, one word at a time.

Time and feedback will determine if this little ficlet remains a story. Simple as that.

Dance on Your Graves by Mather Margeson. Most of you should know it~!

Alucard vibes are intentional...this is one crazy bastard.

I'll let you guess on the time frame.

"Why are you laughing?!"

"Why?! I'll tell you why! Because I just can't help myself! Let me put this in words you idiots understand.

There are two, maybe three beings in this world who could give me a hard time. One, in particular.

You're not that guy, buddy. Trust me when I say you are NOT that guy.

But what you are is dead. Doomed, damned...and DONE."

~?

Dance on Your Graves

They shot him.

Really, it was a very nice bullet Naruto mused; fast and deadly, through and through. He had a perfect view of the damn thing as it pierced his eye, burst through the back of his head and shot him dead. The last thing he heard was a scream, the cry of the woman he'd tried to save. The plastic bag of groceries he'd been carrying fell from his now-nerveless hand and struck the ground, spilling cups of instant ramen to the concrete. His body joined them soon thereafter in a spasming heap; slumping down in the alleyway, before striking a brick wall, then sliding down all the way down to the ground.

It didn't last, of course.

Death never did these days. How irritating.

In the end the hole in his head was just that. An annoyance.

Three seconds. That was precisely how long it took for something to flicker inside him and something else to spark, forcing him to regenerate. He had no say in the matter. His body recognized the wound and attacked it as white blood cells would an illness. In a matter of moments he was up and thinking again. A full second faster than last week, just a little faster each time. At this rate he wouldn't even feel it anymore. Some would call that a blessing. To have functional immortality. He wasn't sure these days.

These days? It felt like a curse.

With a world weary sigh he blinked, felt his eye mend, and pushed himself upright.

The unprofessional oath that followed turned more than a few heads; most those of the trio who'd put a bullet in him. They looked gobsmacked-no, that wasn't the right word. Horrified? Yes, that was it. He could see the nameless dread carved into their very souls as they watched was essentially a dead man stand up, dust himself off, wipe the blood off his face and smile.

Sure, go for a walk. Mess with a mugging gone wrong.

Try to talk three bozos down. What's the worse that could happen?

No matter the day, no matter the era, no matter the people, some things never changed...

.

..

...well, some things did.

"Oi, oi, do you have any idea how annoying that is?" he dug a finger in his ear to no avail, the noise persisted and he had to raise his voice. "My ears are gonna be ringing for hours now. I went a whole week without killing anyone, too!" he stomped a foot down, producing a small crater underfoot. "You ruined my streak, ya know?" he looked to the plastic bag containing his precious cups of instant ramen, now clutched by one of his would be killers. "Took my ramen, too...

His gaze traced past them to the young woman they'd been accosting, huddled in the deepest, darkest corner she could find.

She was a pretty young thing, blond hair and blue eyes, her dark jeans ripped and blue jacket torn indecently near the shoulder, makeup smudged by tears. Huh. This seemed familiar. Unbidden found himself reminded of another girl he once knew long ago. She was no Ino Yamanaka, that much was certain, but there was a passing resemblance all the same. Enough to give him some pause. Maybe a distant descendant? He'd been around for awhile. Still, he wasn't quite so far gone as to allow something like this to happen.

...and you tried to have your way with this poor girl. Can't let that slide."

One of them dared to point their gun at him. The gall. "What the hell are you-

His head tilted to the right with a sickening crack, bending in a way no humans should. "Funny you should ask."

His right hand flicked out, fingers crooking into claws. They caught the first man's stomach -some punk in a black hoodie who thought a gun made him a man- and tore through the cotton like wet newspaper. Flesh proved just as yielding. As did muscle, bone and...well, everything else, really. A single swipe of his hand flung him back against the wall with such force that he was torn apart. His severed halves struck the ground, still steaming in the cold, winter night.

"You know, I've been asking myself that for awhile now." He considered his bloody fingers as his victims-to-be screamed. "What am I? You live so long, and you start to forget things. Pretty sure I'm not a Jujutsu sorcerer as you now it-

"Juju-wha?"

An open palm-bearing-Rasengan flicked backward with lazy grace to obliterate the face of the would-be mugger who'd just spoken. His headless corpse slumped to the floor with a wet splat. His comrade cried out and he felt the faintest stirrings of what might've been pity in his chest. He turned back to regard the broken body as one might a crushed ant. He hadn't even bothered to get their name. A hundred years ago, he might've found that sad. Now he could only muster a sigh and go through the motions.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he muttered. "Was he your friend?"

That was two down, now.

One to go.

"But I'm no cursed spirit, right?" he turned to face his whimpering final victim of the night and tapped a long finger to the side of his head as the terrified teenager looked on. "I don't hate anyone. Not even you. Does that make me a positive spirit, then?" he thumbed his chin, still rambling." I'm pretty sure that's not a thing...

The pistol came up again. "Screw you!"

"Sorry." Pearly white teeth flashed in a rueful grin. "I tend to get chatty when I'm stressed out. Maybe I've lived too long. C'mon, you can come up with a better retort than that, can'tcha?"

The gun rose higher, now. "Don't move!"

"Or what? You'll pull the trigger?" He sauntered forward, arms spread wide at his side. "Because that worked out so well last time. Go on." he crooked a finger at his chin." Shoot me again, I ain't dead yet." When no such move was made he reached down and grabbed their gun, all but forcing it to his forehead. C'mon now, you did it before, don't be shy. Its not like I've got unlimited lives or anything. Then again...

His shadow came alive behind him, assuming the shape of a familiar beast bearing nine tails.

...maybe I do. One way to find out, eh?"

The gun barked.

A hole sizzled through his head and closed a full two seconds later. Another second less.

"Would ya look at that?" he felt the grin stretch across his face. "Seems you got some stones after all!"

"What the hell, man?!"

"Hell, hmm?" he let the man's gun go and thumbed his chin instead. "Now what was a curious statement. "I've never been. Heard its pretty hot down there. Care to find out?"

They fired at him again, point blank.

This time, he caught the round between his teeth and crushed it. Blech. Metal always tasted awful.

From there he, lunged in and grabbed the last would-be-mugger by the throat, teeth gone sharp and eyes blazing red.

He could taste their fear. Of course they were afraid. Any sane man would be in this situation, and he knew why. It wasn't his smile or his immortality, or even his words that unnerved the poor bastard. It was the eyes. Not his, no, no, no. It was the eyes of his shadows, you see. The shadows themselves had eyes. So very many eyes, red and black and blue all over. They painted the walls and the floor of the alley, glaring down upon the dead man with one desire. So many eyes he couldn't count them all anymore; in truth he'd given up trying a long time ago. Eyes for every life he'd collected over the years.

"Why so surprised?" he tilted his head again, blond hair falling over one eye. "You should've known something like this would happen when you tried to force yourselves on that poor girl."

Maybe they had, and maybe they just didn't care. Regardless, they tried to fire again. As if that would somehow change anything.

Not a single round touched him as he swayed his head left, right, left again, letting the shots race away down the alley until the pistol clicked empty. Then reached round with his free hand, seized the barrel -and most of the muggers hand- in his fist and crushed it. Broken metal and spent shells clattered to the floor, alongside bits of broken bone and blood.

"What's wrong?" Naruto clicked his tongue, tutting softly. "You were acting like big shot before. Big man with a gun! Where'd all that bravery go?"

Down the toilet, judging by the smell of urine. "I didn't mean no harm, man! I swear-

"Swear to me."

They couldn't, of course.

"At the end of the day, there are two, maaaaybe three people who could give me a hard time." still holding his bleeding victim by the throat, he pivoted and smashed their back against a brick wall. "One of them's my best buddy. The other's been sealed away for centuries. As to the last...well. Buddy, pal, compadre." he shook his head when the bleeding thug began to weep. "Trust me when I say you're not that guy. You might have thought you were back there, but you ain't. You're really not that guy. You're no Gojo. You're no Sukuna. And you're not me."

His fingers tightened around their throat, cutting off their air. Broken fingers scrabbled at his face, flailing harmlessly against whiskered cheeks.

Said flailing intensified when he conjured a Rasenshuriken to his right hand and brought it to the man's chest. Begging became pleading, whimpering, now.

"I'd dance on your grave, but you're not going to have one." he shifted his grip on them, hand clamping down over their mouth to muffled their screams. "Too bad, so sad."

Blood spattered the walls as his jutsu hit home. In that instant the man's body ceased to be, leaving him clutching his severed head. Death was instantaneous. He didn't feel a thing...probably. Satisfied with his sentence and the judgement he'd rendered, he tossed the man's head over his shoulder and fished a phone out his pocket. Keying in a familiar number, he set it to his ear and:

"Yo, Gojo. It happened again.

"...?"

Yeah, sorry about that." he winced a little at the reply. "Hey, hey, its not my fault folks in this era are so damn squishy." A rueful sigh answered him. "Yeah, course I had a reason! There was a girl. She's about Amanai's age. They were tearin' her clothes off. That makes them bad guys. And besides, they shot me! No, no, don't tell Utahime. I don't want her nagging me-!" A decidedly feminine shout answered him and he swore and held the phone away from his ear. "Alright, alright! I didn't know she was there! Eh? Whuzzat now? Evidence, you say?"

He looked back to the alleyway and heaved a sigh as he regarded the three corpses sprawled within.

Or rather, the bodies that had his fingerprints all over them.

Evidence.

"Fiiiiine." He closed down the phone and raised a hand, his silent shadow became monstrous once more, stemming from his outstretched palm. "Damnit, this is gonna ruin my appetite."

To any who looked on, it seemed impossible. His shadow became something massive, but not all of it; just his arm. Giant crimson jaws devoured the remains, one after the other with ruthless dispatch, leaving only scarlet stains behind. The cops would be scratching their heads come morning, but they would be none the wiser.

"There. No evidence.

Stooping down, he retrieved the instant ramen cups, still secure in their plastic bag. By some miracle there was no blood on them. Good. Would've been a shame to run all the way back to the convenience store. His prize in hand, he took a moment to survey his work, then nodded once. Not a bad Walk, all things considered.

He walked out the alley with a spring in his step, whistling a jaunty tune.

Still felt like he was forgetting something-

A muffled sob pricked at his ears, barely a gasp.

Naruto craned his neck back, a blue eye gleaming over his shoulder.

Right, right. He'd forgotten all about the girl. She was the reason he'd taken that bullet in the first place.

He looked to the poor thing, still sat on her haunches, eyes terribly wide, her gaze locked onto as a frightened rabbit might a starving fox. Did he really look that scary?

Common sense said he should kill her. Basic decency said he shouldn't. But she was a witness..

He pressed a finger to his lips. "Shhh...you didn't see anything, right?"

She nodded thrice, head bobbing rapidly.

"Really, this is why you kids shouldn't stay out so late. You gonna get up and leave, or...?

...I don't think I can, sir." her voice, when she finally spoke, held the faintest off accents. A foreigner...?

Only then did he notice the spreading scarlet stains on her chest and stomach, a puddle of blood beneath her legs as she clutched at herself. Hindsight was a cruel thing. He had dodged those bullets effortlessly back in the alleyway, evading them with ease. She hadn't. They must've ricocheted. It was bad luck on her part, rather rotten luck, really...

.

..

...

Well, he couldn't leave that be now, could he?

Her eyes grew wider still as he approached. "Are you going to kill me, too?"

"Kill you?" Naruto dropped down on his haunches to regard her. "Now why would I do that after going out of my say to save you? Seems a bit counterproductive if you ask me."

She laughed a little; the noise emerged as a pained rasp. Blood bubbled up from her lips. "You have...a twisted sense of humor."

"I do." he nodded in return. "Its something I've cultivated over hundreds of years. "You wanna live?"

Her hazy blue eyes met his. "More than anything."

...hmm."

Naruto considered her words for a long moment. Well, why not? What was the harm? He'd lived so many lives now. More than he could count. And not once, not once had he tried to make more of himself. His stock of lives seemed endless sometimes, eternal even, after he'd fused with Kurama on that fateful day. Baryon Mode should've killed the both of them that day. Instead, two became one.

And in becoming one, they saved the world, but damned themselves.

He'd outlived the era of the shinobi and all that followed that, survived his family his friends, his wife, and their children. Even the children of their children's children. In another few hundred years everyone he knew in this era would be dead and jujutsu sorcerers would be forgotten, too. Was it so wrong to want a companion for that? One who wouldn't wither, grow old, and eventually die?

Was it really?

And besides, this one had a nice rack.

Definitely not a motivating factor, no sirree.

"Alright, then." he smiled. "Best brace yourself."

The Girl's brow furrowed. "Brace myself for whaaaaaack?!"

Her words piqued into a startled shriek as he stabbed his hand deep into her chest, sheathing his arm up tot he wrist. Blue eyes bulged, first with confusion, then horror. Yet she didn't die. He could've bitten her of course, but he didn't like the taste of blood and biting was just so cliche. He was no vampire. Besides she needed a new heart anyway. This one was already failing her. With a twist of his wrist, he flooded her body with amber chakra, neither wholly red nor gold, but a mad blend of the two, and tore his arm free. It would put her to sleep for a time, and when she awoke.

He watched her fear warp into confusion, then awe as he wounds began to close when her wounds began to heal. "What did you...?"

"I've given you a bit of my chakra. Straight into your heart. What's your name?"

Misty blue eyes softened as sleep took her. "..."

Naruto leaned close to listen.

She told him.

A/N: Aaaaand scene.

Had a bit of fun with this. Hope folks enjoyed it.

Three guesses as to who the mystery girl is meant to remind you off.

First two don't count. Need a hint now, do wee? Alright. Hullo, Police Girl.

Well? What say you? Do you want this to remain a story? Yes? No? Maybe so? Make yourselves heard! Really need to hear from you, here.

Once more, we're sticking with the "Embers" rule for this particular story, and others. If folks don't like this, it won't be continued. Meaning that if the story itself isn't popular? Well...I'll not continue it. I'm working two jobs -might need a third soon!- so I barely have time to write; as such, I cannot afford to write something folks don't enjoy.

So by all means, speak up! Your voice matters! Make yourself heard! As ever, reviews are the fuel that sustain me. Without them I cannot write a single word. Simple as that. Working nearly all hours of the day keep me absurdly busy, and I can't bring myself to write something folks don't like.

Aaaand there we go. As ever, reviews keep me alive. Without them, I cannot write. So...in the Immortal Words of Atlas...

...Review...Would You Kindly? Hope you enjoy the previews.

We've got some new ones and some are...intense.

They've been expanded and then some!

Read at your own risk:

WARNING! WARNING! WARNING!

SPOILERS AWAIT YOU!

YE BE WARNED!

(Previews)

"Tell me you did not Turn that girl."

He offered a beatific smile. "Okay, I didn't turn that girl."

"Naruto!"

"What?! To be fair, I don't know what I am anymore. As a result neither does she. It all balances out, really."


"So you went for a walk.

He grinned. "A very enthusiastic walk. Look what I found~!"


"Hey! I'm no cursed spirit! I'm a shinobi! I killed a lot of people to get this title and I deserve to be called as such!


"You know, I've always wondered about something, Gojo."

"What's that?"

Who do you think's stronger? Me? Or you?

Ehhhh, lets call it a tie. I'd rather not fight you at all, really."

Well, at least you're honest.

Speaking of honest, is that crazy girl still after you? She's not going to be happy that you've made a friend."

"Don't remind meeeee...


I'm sorry, were you under the impression you could kill whomever you wanted?

That kid's under my protection.


So this is what pain feels like. I'd almost forgotten."

It is my belief that everyone deserve two chances. They're born with one. They're offered another when they screw up. But third chances? No. There are no third chances here...


"Hey, Sukuna! Long time no see!

An eye creaked open.

"You again...?"

R&R~!