(Updated: 07/23/2021)
WARNING: Dark shit ahead. Nothing too bad, but thought I would give a warning regardless.
Lurking in the shadows under veil of night
Constellations of blood pirouette
Dancing through the graves of those who stand at my feet
Dreams of the black throne I keep on repeat
A derelict of dark summoned from the ashes
The puppet master congregates all the masses
Pulling strings twisting minds as blades hit
You want this power then come try and take it
Beyond the tree
Fire burns
Secret love
Bloodline yearns
Dark minds embrace
Crimson Joy
Does your dim heart
Heal or Destroy?
(~Devil May Cry: Bury the Light)
Chapter 10: Hello Madness
Akira stood frozen, staring at the door in her way as if the Kyuubi himself lay behind it. He wasn't; inside the room, that is. What lay beyond the plain wooden plank was much, much worse.
"Are you ready?" A nurse asked, breaking her from somber thoughts.
It was the same nurse from all of her other visits—what was his name again? Kiso? The man had ash-brown hair and glasses framing honey brown eyes. His words were soft, expression closed and hard.
She wasn't sure she'd ever be ready.
"Yes." she lied.
Without further comment, the nurse opened the door. The first thing Akira saw was red. A beautiful yet terrifying color she had become uncomfortably use to. It was the shade of unconditional love and warmth. Of home. It was also the color of blood.
The next thing to grace her senses was the faint smell of rot, mixed heavily with flowers and bleach. It made her nose twitch and stomach churn. Whether the overwhelmingly floral scent was purposeful, she would likely never know.
Akira walked in after the nurse slowly, as if waiting for someone to come around the corner and attack—which wasn't too far-fetched. There had been many occurrences where civilians and ninja alike would attempt such a feat.
At first, it was unbearable considering she wasn't able to fight back. Not only was she afraid of reprimanding, but when a ninja decided to lay out their own self-serving justice, she wasn't strong enough to even put up a fight.
She'd actually become quite the regular at the hospital because of this. It wasn't until she remembered there was a second option when it came to others wanting to harm her than fighting back. Running.
There was a learning curb, especially with ninja, but she was quickly on her way towards becoming a pro at evasion. Be it running away faster than a civilian could keep up with, or hiding high up in trees and masking her chakra around the ninja.
If only she could get away from this.
Once fully inside the room Akira slowly made her way to the visitor chair set next to the bed. Her legs were unsteady as she bonelessly plopped onto the seat. She reached out uncertainly to grab hold of a hand, cringing internally at how chilled the skin was.
"Hi, mom." Akira whispered to the unconscious redhead, trying to rub warmth back into the woman's hands. There was no reply.
"I've been…okay. The plant the Hiruzen gave me is blooming. Didn't know succulents could do that 'till it happened. It's orange, funny enough. I know how much you love that color, even if you never really wear it… Um… Haven't been able to see Naruto yet, but I'm sure he's being a good boy." Akira drifted off in thought, realizing she was rambling like an idiot.
If the nurse minded, he never said.
It was as if her mother was sleeping, Akira noted morbidly. She glanced at the monitors set up around them curiously to see if there were any changes from her last visit. Finding none, she drew her attention back to Kushina.
Her complexion was an unhealthy shade of paste, broken only by vivid red brows, lashes and bruise like bags under her closed, sunken eyes.
The thick scent of rot was even worse closer to the redheaded woman. Akira tried her best to ignore it, breathing through her mouth instead. The taste was worse.
"This isn't fair," she stated thickly, swallowing past the lump in her throat.
Closing her eyes with a sigh, Akira felt out with her chakra. A tear slid down her cheek. "I can't even feel you there."
.
.
.
Thirty minutes later Kushina Uzumaki was officially pronounced dead.
.
.
.
Entering the house with a little more force that normal, Akira mindlessly tossed her keys into a fish shaped bowl set by the door.
Lately the crushing weight of loneliness was making it hard to get up in the morning.
She did so anyway.
Every day, she would drag herself out of bed and make her way to the academy. There, she would ace all of her tests and participate in the daily sparring matches. After, she would walk alone to her apartment for a bath, homework and sleep.
On her days off from school she would throw herself into training, be it by herself or with Itachi.
Unpacked, her apartment resembled more of a controlled mess compared the complete disaster it once was.
It was quaint and lacking in furniture with a small table set that only had one chair sat near the kitchenette where she both ate and studied. A worn sofa in the living room accompanied a dingy bookcase halfway filled with scrolls and books.
Her room consisted of a futon laid out on the floor and low bedside table with an alarm clock.
It wasn't the best, but she made due.
Looking around the confined area, Akira noted nothing seemed out of place from when she left it that morning. Though, a strange scent hung in the air giving her pause.
It was…off somehow. Mixed in with the various cleaners she used, there were hints of dried blood and dirt. Weird.
How long had it been since she had last scrubbed the floors? A few days? A week?
She would have to add that to her list of things to do when she wasn't sore from sparring matches. That damned Hyuga had a mean left hook and knew just where to strike in order to wear her down.
Deciding it best to take a quick soak before breaking open her latest assignment for school, Akira made her way to the bathroom.
First, she went to the sink, intent to wash her hands. They were filthy; nails cracked and crusted with dirt. The girls in her class would faint if their hands looked the same.
Cucumber scented suds mixed into a dingy brown as the murky water made its way down the sink and out of her mind.
Looking up to the mirror to assess the damage done to her face during spars (that Hyuga fuck thought it would be funny to grind her cheek into the ground)—a startled scream burst from her lungs.
A man, around his mid-thirties, towered behind her. Akira had no idea how she hadn't noticed him.
He was large, easily taking up most of the space in her bathroom. The man gave a toothy, winning grin before promptly slamming her face—for the second fucking time—into the hard porcelain sink.
The pain blinded her senses.
Heart pounding, Akira kicked herself off the wall into the man in an attempt to catch him off guard. It was to no avail, considering her small frame. Years of training fled her mind as she threw her hands around in desperation.
He grabbed hold of her once more, this time by the neck and squeezed.
Vision spinning, Akira saw for the briefest moments two more attackers in the already crowded bathroom. Her fingers clawed into the flesh of her attacker's, leaving red trails down his wrists but to no avail.
Everything went black.
Akira let out a dry moan as she slowly awoke. Her brain pounded angrily against her skull. The smell of rain hung heavy in the air as she took deep, controlled breaths through her body-wide ache. Sticks and rocks poked uncomfortably against her spine—
'Wait a minute. Sticks and rocks?'
The world snapped into blurry focus as her eyes shot open. She went to move, but painfully tight ropes bound her wrists in front of her.
Fear sank slowly into her stomach like a frozen rock. A gag was shoved into her mouth and tasted of sweat and blood. Every attempt to break free made the ropes dig further into her tender skin.
Realizing she wasn't alone, Akira looked up. Sitting in a semi-circle were three men.
One she recalled as being the shit-stain who originally attacked her. A long, ragged scar cut through his upper lip to just below his brown, bloodshot eyes. He was staring directly at her.
"Look who decided to wake up," Scar goaded with a smirk, the action making his namesake pucker awkwardly.
The other two men sitting around shifted their attention to her. The pair were similar in looks, hinting at a possible relation. Their brown hair was pulled back in a short, severe knot. Around their necks hung different colored bandanas. One wore green, the other blue. She nicknamed them accordingly.
Something in their dead gazes made Akira's stomach clench. Their blank, gray orbs stared through her.
It slowly dawned on Akira that she had in fact, been kidnapped. Which in hindsight should have been rather obvious. She wondered offhandedly if she was concussed. Her head hadn't been given the best care lately, after all.
The urge to scream bubbled in her chest but she beat it down. Fuckin kidnapped!? Given her status as a jinjuriki Akira had been under the impression that this particular situation was impossible.
Where were her stalkers? The ANBU trailed behind her everywhere she went, never letting her out of their sight. So much for 'elite ninja'.
These men had to be more than your average run-of-the-mill thugs if they were able to get through all of the protection surrounding her. Akira didn't even want to think about what had happened the poor souls meant to guard her.
Why had they taken her, of all children? Where in the hell were they? How long had it been since the (embarrassingly one-sided) fight in her bathroom?
It was an S-rank secret that she was a jinjuriki, even if most of Konoha knew what went down the night Kurama went on a rampage in their village. They were smart to never plainly state exactly what she was.
This whole situation struck her as strange—until it clicked.
Akira was the daughter of the Fourth Hokage—the Yellow Flash, and an Uzumaki. There were plenty of enemies wanting to get their grubby hands on her.
That didn't answer the question to why she was alive, though.
What was their game?
Then, like some cheesy story, they gave her inquisitive mind an answer. Really, they should have had this conversation when she was asleep, but what did she know?
The twin(?) with the blue bandana spoke up. "You sure this is an Uzumaki? It doesn't have red hair," he intoned, voice scratchy and deep.
Ah. So she was an It now. Too bad she didn't have clown make-up or buck-teeth.
Scar ran a hand though his greasy hair, "One-hundred percent. Just looks like her bastard of a father. Those violet eyes come from her pureblooded Uzumaki mother."
Akira watched carefully as they spoke, muddled brain in overdrive to comprehend. She concluded: 'I'm going to die. Fuck.'
The trees in the surrounding forest swayed ominously along with the howling wind. Around the clearing, moon rays illuminated an array of dying leaves as they fell silently to the ground. The night was rather cold. The lack of a campfire cemented that fact as a chill ran through her.
They must have been afraid of someone finding them if they had no fire with winter swiftly making its way to the Land Of Fire.
"Yeah but how do we know It has the blood?" the last man with the green bandana questioned. He was digging his kunai into the ground like a damn sociopath.
Akira froze at the question, gaze bouncing between the trio.
Scar waved a dismissive hand through the air and caught her eye. It set Akira on edge how eerily similar this man was to the one who broke into the village when she was a child.
They even had identical, generic, creepy smiles.
"Even a half-breed like her would have a chance at inheriting her Clan's bloodline." Scar reiterated.
Akira shimmied until she was sitting up, blood running cold when Scar stood in the same movement. She cussed aloud, but it came out muffled incomprehensible mumbles.
"But just in case… We'll test it right now."
They thought she was like Karin—which had nothing to do with blood, but an Uzumaki's ability to have their chakra consumed through biting.
Shit, shit, shit!
"And if It doesn't?" Green inquired with a tilt of his head.
"Then…" Scar took out a kunai, "She's of no use to us."
Screaming behind the gag, Akira tried pushing herself away with fumbling feet as Scar drew closer. Her back drug against a large root.
This was just her damn luck. Of course she would be kidnapped by a gang of psychopaths who thought she had something she didn't. And once they found out, they would kill her with no one being any wiser. No one would care.
The most anticlimactic death in the Naruto Universe ever.
Scar was upon her in two strides, hand winding in her hair as he violently lifted her up. Tears streamed down her cheeks as her scalp screamed in protest.
Akira didn't want this. She didn't want any of this!
With the hand holding a kunai, Scar cut deeply into his own forearm near the faint scratches from her earlier struggling. Blood welled up thickly and ran down his dirtied skin. Akira's senses were overwhelmed with pain and the heady, coppery scent of blood.
'Why did this have to happen to me?' She cried out in her mind.
A meaty hand pulled at the fabric of her collar, bringing the blade dangerously close to her eye. Still, Akira thrashed about like a maniac, anything to make him let go. She felt as chunks of hair pulled free from her scalp, the pain eased slightly by adrenaline and fear. The blade nicked her cheek.
Moist breath ghost over her shoulder briefly before teeth sunk deeply through her skin, down to the muscle. Screams reaching a fever pitch, Akira moved more wildly. The pain was never-ending.
Her head spun dizzyingly as a strange pull drained her of fight, making her body slump helplessly. She was left feeling exhausted and used, being held up like a doll.
What could have been a few seconds or hours later; Scar removed his mouth with a sickening squelch. A second passed before he barked out a few laughs.
Akira's hazy sight looked up in time to see him lick his lips of her blood. Her stomach turned quicker.
Don't vomit with a gag, don't vomit with a gag—
"Well, I'll be damned!" Scar hollered, holding his unmarked arm up for the others to see like a trophy, "She does have it! Today is our lucky day, boys."
Without another thought, Akira was thrown carelessly to the unforgiving ground. Just because they needed her alive now didn't mean she had to be in tip-top condition.
She didn't feel the urge to cry anymore. Physical pain couldn't hold a candle to the onslaught of mental anguish thrumming through her body.
'Kushina,' her mind screamed out endlessly. Her mother… she was gone. Forever.
Hadn't Karin brought Sasuke back from near death a handful of times? And even if Kushina had no lingering chakra to be found, if Akira hadn't taken her off of life support just a few days prior, she might have been able to save her.
Instead, she was gone, gone, gone.
Just like everything else in her life.
.
.
.
Deep in the recesses of her mind, red, slitted eyes snapped open.
.
.
.
Agony became all she knew. Akira wished the slow torture would just end. It didn't matter whose death it would take, so long as it would stop.
There seemed to be no destination to where they traveled, yet they moved often. To stave off their own boredom they came up with a game only they knew the rules to.
The first time, she fell for it easily.
Scar had cut her bindings and released her into wild, stating if she escaped until sunrise, she'd be free to go.
At the word 'free' Akira bolted into the night. She ran through the woods like a wraith, only stopping long enough to put her hand to the ground in search for someone to help. Anyone would do. She would take Madara for fucks sake.
Being a mini-Tobi sounded like a cakewalk compared to being some blood bag for these fuckin vampires who had no idea how chakra-healing worked.
Akira had fought the urge to scream out for a savior, but the small rational part of her mind beat down the idea. The possibility of being found out so soon by her captors kept her silent as a ghost.
Instead, she focused on the wild thrashing of her heartbeat resounding in her ears because she was free, she was free!
It wasn't until she was tackled to the ground by a cackling Scar and bitten once more that she understood.
A tease of hope. They enjoyed making her believe she could get away. To chase her around like a prized elk and throw it in her face how utterly helpless she was.
Whomever caught her first was allowed to bite her in order to replenish their reserves.
After the eighth time of getting nowhere during the game—her longest run being six hours—she refused to move. She sat in their camp unmoving, forcing any emotion down. They loved it when she reacted.
At first, her unwillingness to 'play' upset them enough to warrant a light beating, but at least the hunting stopped.
Instead of that, though, Scar would put her under genjutsu. In those illusions, her loved ones would come and save her. Sometimes it was Itachi and other times it was Kushina—but that couldn't be. Akira had killed her.
Once she was even rescued by Shisui, who she had only met once during the unleashing of Kurama.
Every time she came out of the trance, she was being bitten and would cry and cry and cry. (weak)
.
.
.
Whatever food they deemed her worthy to have barely fueled herself enough to stand, let alone run. Because what was the point of giving her nutrients when they had already broken her?
As a result, she was left unbound. Body and spirit extinguished; snuffed out like a flickering candle.
Just when she had thought she'd had enough, when the pain became too much, she found herself falling to her mindscape.
It wasn't as good as physically escaping, but she was always good at improvising.
Kurama said nothing during her time there, but his anger, like a living thing, seeped into her back and mind with its unbearable heat. She knew not if his silence was out of satisfaction or something else.
She never cared to ask. The answer wouldn't satisfy any curiosity she once held.
Her mindscape changed. The many yellow flowers withered; grass once lustrous and thick lay under her dying; the pond an opaque reddish-brown.
Humans, she found, were much more monstrous than the beast sealed inside her stomach.
.
.
.
Akira stared off into the distance unseeing, teetering on the cusp of being awake and inside her own mind. Sleep was in short commodity as she was too afraid to close her eyes.
She didn't react when Blue grabbed her by the face in a bruising grip. His eyes narrowed in disgust, "It's like a living doll with those empty eyes." He stated, smacking her cheek twice.
No response. Nothing.
'Yes. I am nothing,' she repeated to herself, like a wish. 'Nothing, nothing, nothing.' If she thought it enough, maybe it would become true.
It would hurt less. In that state of mind, Akira could ignore their sick words and push away the pain.
I am nothing.
Bitterly Akira wondered if saving Kushina would have been this simple. A single bite and poof. Everything would be normal. They could go back home with Naruto and they could be a family. Her brother wouldn't have to grow up not knowing the love of a mother.
It doesn't matter.' She berated herself, 'nothing matters.'
Everything they taught in the academy at that point was useless. They taught general aspects of being a ninja. And all of her knowledge about handling small weapons meant zilch when she had no access to any.
Even if she did have all of the tools to fight back, she was outnumbered three to one and wholly outranked. The only thing she could hope for was a distraction.
Some sort of opening that would allow her the chance to get away. On her own terms.
'And then what?' Akira didn't know which direction pointed home. Her ability to sense through the ground wasn't strong enough to find her way back with how little chakra was left in her body. And her health was declining. Fast.
Her kidnappers didn't find it important to treat the wounds they inflicted on her. The area around her first bite was raw and inflamed, along with the others that littered her body. What she could see of them were angry shades of red surrounded by hints of purple.
Infections were sinking in and for the life of her, Akira couldn't find it in herself to care.
I am nothing.
The sooner she succumbed to an infection, the sooner she would be away from this hell.
Yet somewhere inside of the husk she called a body, a feeling flickered to life. If she allowed herself to dwell too far into it, it became all consuming.
Twisting its way into the marrow of her bones and taking root throughout her cells like cancer.
It was both quiet and unbearably loud. Booming at times with barely contained rage, only to ice over her chest and eroding its way through her gut.
All she needed to do was wait. Bide her time until an opening occurred. One wrong move. A single crack in the foundation the nin had created.
Then, and only then, would she act. But until then…
'I am nothing.'
.
.
.
No one was coming to save her, Akira decided after what felt like weeks had passed.
And why would they? Being a jinjuriki meant very little when Konoha had two at their disposal. Even better, the other half was in a more impressionable, moldable child.
They didn't need her. Didn't even want her.
Akira thought back to the words Scar had stated one night: "guess your people don't care about you, kid."
And honestly? She agreed.
'I am nothing.'
It would have been easier had she died along with her parents. Six feet under sounded particularly cozy. The thought ignited a spark or anger.
Who the fuck did these bastards think they were? Stealing her from her village and dragging her around with them like some piece of meat.
She hated them. She detested these poor excuses for humans. The world would be a better place without them in it.
"You could kill them…" Akira jumped at the sound Kurama's deep voice, not use to hearing him after so long. She felt…conflicted at his words.
Sure, it sounded like a delightful thought. But that's all it was. A thought. Akira could barely think straight, let alone bring herself together long enough to murder three adults who could easily fling her around like a tennis ball.
The demon chuckled, "You need do nothing more than let me out, and all of your suffering will end."
Part of her wanted to give in. Yearned to give up control and unleash the Nine-tails on her unsuspecting torturers out of mere spite. To lend him the reigns to destroy everything in their path. To warm her chilled skin on the burning world around her. And yet…
'No.'
Without warning, Akira was forcefully pulled into her mindscape. The sapling in the center of the pond was on fire.
Kurama was behind her as always but she refused to look his way. Akira feared if she did, there would be no turning back.
"How dare you reject my offer!? You should be groveling at my feet, begging me to take over and put an end your suffering!" the beast bellowed.
His chakra whipped out with his anger, seeping into her skin and swirling threateningly over where her seal lay.
The feeling made her mind cloud over. Offhandedly, Akira noted she had begun to hyperventilate, in both her mind and physical body. It was strange.
"I don't need your veiled pity." The blonde snapped back at him, "I'll get away on my own or I will die on my own."
With that said Akira pushed herself back to her body, only to hiss in pain. Her skin was burning under the Kyuubi's chakra as he tried forcing himself out.
"You insolent cur. I've sat by and watched as you struggled around like a worm but this is where my patience ends. I am bound to your life by this seal, and I refuse to die under such pathetic circumstances!"
Her mind bent to his will and with it, she could feel just a taste of his power. Of what she could be capable of with his help.
No! It wasn't help. He would kill her if released. What he said was a lie. He wasn't bound to her life-force; that was just an act to get her to let him out. That was all he cared about, so in turn Akira only cared to keep him in.
'But this feeling…' It rolled off her in euphoric waves. The rage and power that swam under her skin was enough to drown in. With it, she could destroy them.
To break their limbs like toothpicks and listen to their terrified screams as they felt a fraction of the torture they inflicted on her. To sink her tiny, sharp teeth into their necks and rip them apart limb from limb—
'What are you doing to me?' Akira cried out in her mind, losing herself to the demons insanity.
"Proving a point!"
Scar, the most active in her torment, made his way toward her, intent swimming in his brown eyes.
Eyes she would have no issue feeding him…
Akira suddenly rolled into her back with a scream as acid burned through her veins. Black chakra tinged with red seeped from her pores, leaving agony in its wake. 'Stop!' Akira begged as she felt all three of her captors' chakra take a step back, hands going to their weapons' pouch.
"STOP RESISTING!"
"What the fuck is happening to her!?" Scar shouted, fear lacing his words (it was intoxicating). Even still, he took a threatening step in her direction.
(There was something else. A handful of flickering orbs making their way toward them)
"Quit being a pathetic rabbit. Accept your fate as my vessel as I have and know this: We are not the prey-"
A feral growl fell from the girls clenched teeth; sight overcome with redredred—
"We are the predator."
Akira maneuvered herself into a crouching position and lashed out with elongated nails as Scar moved to grab her arm, slicing him across the torso. He dropped his kunai and jumped back, causing blood spurt out from the wound, splashing warmly across her face. It was devastatingly beautiful.
'I… I want more.'
A deep, sadistic chuckle, "Kill them all. Destroy. Consume. Remind them what it is to fear an angry God."
Glowing, animalistic red eyes focused on Scar as he walked toward her; round pupils stretched thin into long slits. He clutched at his bleeding stomach, anger contorting his ugly face.
A manic smile curled on Akira's lips, showing even longer, sharper canines.
Killing Intent leaked into the clearing like a dark fog, bringing her prey to their knees.
To the left a kunai sunk into the top of Blue's head, killing him instantly. His body fell. Green fell back speechless, shaking in fright as he stared at the body of his dead brother.
Fueled by days, no years, of pent-up fury, Akira stood. These beasts were so certain she wouldn't fight back. She reached down and picked up the kunai, twirling it on a finger.
"Make them pay. Make them all pay!"
With a shrill scream Akira ducked under Scar's grasp and stabbed the kunai deep into his thigh, relishing in the way the man—swine—yowled in pain. She then yanked the knife out and was momentarily amazed at how easy it dug in and out of flesh.
A small hand reached into his greasy hair and brought him nose-to-nose with her, "Beg for your life." Akira demanded emotionlessly; voice mixed with that of Kurama.
Her victim, clutching at his new gushing wound (must have hit an artery), gave her a nasty look. "Bitch!"
"Wrong answer." she taunted with a giggle; red eyes crazed.
She stabbed his crotch, aiming where his 'little friend' resided in his pants. Scar fell to his knees wailing in pain and Akira smiled with a too-wide grin. Again, she stabbed him, kunai giving little resistance as it sunk into the tender flesh of his stomach.
Still, she was unsatisfied.
It wasn't enough.
Abandoning the weapon in his gut she reached for his face. Her thumbs caressed the skin under Scar's eyes tenderly, like a lover, before plunging the appendages into the mushiness of his sockets.
His screams grew louder and louder—Akira took a deep breath, as if inhaling his pain like a drug.
The moment ended when Scar's flailing arm shot out and hit her, sending Akira flying across the opening. Her momentary flight ended when she crashed into a tree, toppling it over.
Instead of crying in pain, she dissolved into frenzied laughter. 'This is nothing,' she thought, lost in her hysteria.
The bleeding monster writhed on the forest floor like a grub, calling out for someone to help him. A new person landed beside him, this one wearing a mask. They effectively ended Scar's life with a kunai to the throat.
When another person dropped down near to Akira, she lashed out blindly.
"Stand down. We are Leaf." Said the person.
The masks were distinctly Konoha ANBU, but how could she be sure? They could be ROOT in disguise sent out to kill her. The masked person extended their hand to her but instead of backing down Akira bared her teeth with a guttural snarl.
They took a few shocked steps back, pulling out their weapons—and didn't she call it? She was stuck in another illusion.
"I won't play your games anymore!" she cried out, murky chakra lashing out wildly.
Another body fell from the sky. (The sky is falling, someone get chicken little!) They landed right next to her, close enough to touch. Close enough to harm. She raised her hand, ready to attack—
"Akira!" a voice from another life called out—they ripped off their mask, "It's me, it's okay." Kakashi threw the porcelain mask to the side and the fabric one down, hands held out for her to see. There was no weapon.
"Dog-!"
"Shut the fuck up!" Kakashi hissed, never taking his eyes from the child.
'Just another trick,' Akira thought, wanting to cry out in anguish. ANBU-Kakashi was new, though. How Scar reached into her mind to show her what she wished to see; she'd never know. It was a truly creative way to torture someone.
She was sick of being toyed with.
Huffing in rage, Akira moved to get up and fight but anguish shot through her leg, stopping her short. It was bent in an awkward angle, slowly moving itself back into place. After drawing attention to it, the pain was sharp and jarring.
'Wait…'
If she could feel the pain, the genjutsu should have evaporated into nothingness.
Akira looked up again, preparing for the worst, only to freeze. He was still there. Kakashi kneeled in front of her, worry clear in his miss-matched eyes.
Tears filled Akira's eyes as they slowly faded back to violet. The toxic chakra surrounding her calmed slightly into a delicate dance across her skin. "A-are you really here?" she asked weakly in her own voice, throat raw.
Kakashi smiled weakly, nodding slowly. "Yeah, I'm here. You don't have to fight anymore. I won't let anyone hurt you."
Akira reached out to him as tears streamed down her bloody cheeks and grasped at the fabric of his shirt. Kakashi scooped her up, cradling her against his chest, whispering reassurances all the while.
Deciding she was finally safe, Akira succumbed to her exhaustion, eyes rolling back.
I should really be use to waking up to the annoying sounds of a heart monitor by now. God's this is getting old.
My eyes opened slowly; sight fogged from sleep. I rubbed at them, still tired. The need to know what happened and where I was kept me awake.
I looked around the hospital room, pausing when I came across a man standing guard in the corner of my room, his mask boar-like.
The fuck…?
Not creepy at all. Why would there be an—Aahhh.
Right.
Had a weird melding with Kurama and attacked one of my abductors rather viciously, hadn't I? Of course they would put me on lockdown. At least this time they didn't muzzle me.
How I must have looked: beaten and battered, tearing into someone like a hungry wolf. Or maybe a fox? I thought with a weak smile.
Oddly enough, the thought didn't bother me.
And I knew without a shadow of a doubt that if given a chance, I would do it again.
.
.
.
The boredom of a week was broken only with the Hokage gracing me with his illustrious presence. He went on and on about the reasoning for keeping me in the hospital.
They wanted to bring someone to speak to me about what had happened while I was kidnapped. Something about trauma blah-blah.
Apparently, I was showing signs of mental instability. Which just, wow. No fucking shit.
And while I was touched with their sudden interest in my well-being, I wanted nothing more than to be left the fuck alone.
"Get out." I demanded when he had finally quit speaking. The fact I was ordering around the Monarch of our village was not lost on me.
It was possible I could still be riding the power high Kurama had bestowed upon my mortal flesh.
Hiruzen's face pulled together in confusion, "Akira… I am just trying to be here for you. I know I have made many mistakes…"
"Yeah? And where was that energy when I was being tortured inside of your precious village by other villagers?" I pushed myself up further in my indignation, "Better yet, where were you when my parents were killed and taken away from me?"
"I was helping to protect the village. We tried to get to you and your parents in the end, but your mother created a barrier with her chakra chains. We weren't able to get through. There was nothing we could do but watch until the barrier fell." He sounded mournful but I didn't give a shit.
She was positive Kushina had begged this old fuck to take care of her and Naruto in the anime. To fail in both 2D and reality was a red flag. Not only that, but at her parents funeral, the twat had outright told the world who she was.
It was as if he were just asking for someone to snatch her ass.
"Get out." I repeated, bringing my unbound leg to my chest. I couldn't even stand to look at him. They probably didn't even try to get to us.
"Akira-"
"I said GET OUT!" My sight bled red as the Kyuubi came to life under my rage.
Boar and five other ANBU surrounded my bed, all aiming sharp, pointy objects in my direction. I breathed deeply as I tried reeling in the hate and need to kill. A tear fell—weakness.
The next time I spoke, it came out meek. "Please." (weakweakweak)
The many weapons lowered at the Hokage's insistence and without another word, Hiruzen left.
.
.
.
Nightmares and a nagging feeling I wasn't alone woke me with a start. I sat up in bed, the hidden kunai (given to me by Itachi) branded and ready to cut down whoever dared disturb my shitty slumber.
"No need for that." A gravelly voice called out from the dark.
It didn't take long for my eyes to be accustomed to the darkness. When they did, I saw the form of a man in the corner of the room.
He sat upright in the shitty hospital chair as if he were royalty; both hands resting on the cane perched between his legs. "Who's there?" I barked, alarms going off in my head.
A dark chuckle. "My name, child, is Shimura Danzo."
My insides froze.
Fuck.
"And?" I asked, "Is that supposed to mean something to me?" the snark was all bravado. In my head, it was like the episode of Sponge Bob where his brain office was on fire.
I am nothing, I reminded myself in an effort to find comfort.
"We could easily kill that bag of bones." Kurama injected through my dismay. Oddly enough, I found some solace in his words. This was before Danzo had stolen all of the sharingan.
Her body relaxed, if only a little.
"No I wouldn't think it would. But I am more than happy to inform you." The old geezer coaxed. "I am visiting you with a proposition of sorts—"
Without thinking I interrupted him mid-speech, "Thanks but I'm not interested."
A hint of KI entered the room, suffocating me for only a moment before disappearing. This was so bad. Had I not been through enough bullshit?
Why was he even here? Had I not been careful enough in the Academy? Sure, I hadn't taken any care to stay away from the top kunoichi title (much to the chagrin of my sensei), and I may have inadvertently killed someone… but I was protected by the Hokage, dammit!
Or so I thought… There was always the possibility Hiruzen ordered Danzo to come.
"Why, you haven't given me a chance to explain myself." He tutted, shifting in his seat to cross his legs.
We stared at each other for a moment before I turned my gaze away. My hands looked mighty interesting clutching my blankets like a lifeline.
"You were correct in your assumption Hiruzen is to blame for the untimely demise of your parents—sorry to hear about your mother. What a shame. She was so powerful even without the Nine-Tails."
I narrowed my eyes, just barely stopping myself from correcting him of Kurama's name. For some reason the thought of his name on Danzo's lips made me sick.
I realized I was thankful for the humanoid fox. If it weren't for him, the ANBU may not have found me. Nothing says 'THE JINJURIKI CHILD IS OVER HERE' like the Nine-Tails chakra assaulting you randomly in the woods.
He had also given her the power to fight back. "Accept your fate as my vessel as I have," he had said. Her stomach buzzed at what he could have meant by those words.
Lies or truth?
"Thank you for your condolences, but the burden of their death is mine and mine alone."
That seemed to get his attention. "Hmm…" Danzo stood up with the aid of his cane—one I knew he didn't need, "Such a dutiful daughter. To take the blame for something out of your control—a powerless little girl with no way to change her own fate."
His words struck a chord in me but I pushed it down—that condescending bag of rotting fecal matter— No. He wanted me angry. He was a master manipulator of children but I wasn't really a child.
Instead of answering, I chose to stay silent. Refusing to give him any more ammunition to use against me.
"I could help." He confided, eyes calculating. "I would like to extend an invitation. You see, I run a faction called ROOT that could help you attain the power you so crave to achieve. Under my command, I could make you unstoppable. Give you the tools needed in order to protect those you love." By the end of his rant, he was by the door. "Think about it."
Before he could make it all of the way out the door, I called out his name. He paused; head tilted slightly in acknowledgment. "Why me? Why now?" I questioned.
His reply was straight to the point, "Because you have seen the vile truth of the world; and you survived it." He turned to me fully, "In your eyes, my dearest Akira, I see a quality I look for when considering those for ROOT. A darkness beyond your years."
I laughed without mirth, "You may know war, famine and death but you know nothing of darkness." She sneered, "And my answer is still a resounding no."
Darkness was what met her when she had died as 'Jemma.' It had been endless agony. An inky void that held no remorse for the souls in its grasp.
(It was snatching the body of an innocent child without remorse.)
The only sign of his anger was the clenching of his fist before he fully left the room. "We'll see about that. I'll keep in touch."
Once positive he was gone, I began hyperventilating. My heart beat frantically against my ribcage. At this point, it would grow legs and run away.
The nerve of this man! He thought I would change my mind? Join the very organization that would turn my Itachi into a martyr that would leave the village? Like hell I would!
Fuck him and everything he stands for and his entire fucking lineage.
I clutched my chest, trying to stave off the oncoming panic attack. "I am nothing," I reminded myself, closing my eyes. "I am nothing, I am nothing…"
I didn't sleep that night.
.
.
.
(Akira never noticed the silverette sitting outside her window during her stay at the hospital. She also didn't see when his mismatched eyes narrowed murderously at Danzo's invitation to ROOT.)
.
.
.
Today was the day! It was finally time to blow this Popsicle Stand. After being in the hospital for three weeks, I could truly empathize with Future Kakashi's need to escape hospitals. And while I wasn't too keen on going back to an apartment I was so easily kidnapped from; anything was better than the smell of bleach and sickness.
I walked out of the hospital bathroom, dressed in some normal clean clothes given to me by none other than Mama Uchiha—once she caught wind of my situation she had visited a few times with food and hugs.
Even if the Uchiha Matriarch couldn't adopt me, the woman was the most reliable adult in my life. Kushina had chosen my Godmother well.
Sometimes she would even bring little Satsuki with her. The babe was rather cute with her wide dark eyes full of quiet wonder staring at me as she chewed away on a teething ring.
(Another statistic in the making of children fucked over by this damn village.)
I thumbed at the soft fabric of my new, loose black tank top. It was the nicest thing I'd worn in a long time. Even if I couldn't feel the cotton against the rest of my skin due to the bandages wrapped snuggly against my torso and arms, it was cozy. Paired with the baggy pants that tied together at my bandaged calves, I felt almost halfway human.
"You look healthier, dear."
My head snapped up to the door, cursing myself for not paying closer attention. The Hokage stood proudly at the door, a grandfatherly smile on his face.
Flattering words won't get you anywhere, old man. Especially when I knew I looked like an overly dressed mummy.
"Thanks." I tossed over my shoulder as I turned to the bag of my belongings and threw the strap over my shoulder.
We stood there for a while in a stalemate, neither one of us wanting to break the unsteady ice between us. After five minutes of unbearable silence, I rubbed a hand over my face. "Um… I think I owe you an apology, Lord Hokage." One that I definitely don't mean.
Said man sat down in the chair Danzo once reside and nodded his head for me to continue. I shivered.
Shaking myself out of my thoughts, I kicked my foot at the shiny floor. "I spoke out of turn and in a place of anger. There is no one to blame for my father's death but himself, and you weren't the one to give the order to take my mother off life support. That was me." I turned my head to stare out the door, squinting when I caught the sight of silver. (Lieslieslies)
"A wonderful apology. Once I welcome with open arms," Hiruzen did as said, opening his arms to me.
Reluctantly, I stepped into his arms. It was… Strange and uncomfortable considering he was still seated. He smelt of cloves and old person. It wasn't completely terrible I'd admit, but I definitely wouldn't go seeking it out.
I took a step back with a warm face.
"Greif and trauma can cloud even the brightest of minds." He intoned sagely, patting the top of my head. I fought not to flinch.
With little effort, Hiruzen stood, beckoning me to follow. "Now that that is over, there is someone I believe you should have met long ago."
.
.
.
Orphanages smelt awful, but I sucked in a breath when the Hokage entered the visiting room with a child in his arms. The moment wide, sky blue eyes regarded me curiously; the world fell to the background as static noise.
"Akira, I would like you to meet your little brother, Naruto." The old man's voice was far away.
Naruto was babbling like crazy, blowing spit bubbles and raspberries and he was perfect. A well-balanced mixture of Minato and Kushina.
Spiky yellow-blonde hair went in every direction, wild and untamed. His blue eyes were shaped just like our mothers. Rounded cheeks held whisker marking that matched my own. Maybe he's a mixture of all three of us…
"Can I hold him?" I breathed, wiping my palms against my pants, unsure how he was expecting me to react.
If this were a trick, I would never recover.
Hiruzen chuckled affectionately before depositing the confused child into my arms.
Naruto was warmth incarnate. His chakra, though small considering he was a baby, felt like a campfire. I brushed my chakra against his experimentally to get a better feel for it.
A crushing hug from a loved one that smelt of jasmine. Warm apple pie shared between friends at a riverside. Basking under the sun during a picnic with team Papa, Mom and Itachi. I gasped, breathless at all of the emotions scrounged up by just one tiny baby.
My inquisitive chakra made my little brother (my world) jolt in surprise. For a heartbreaking moment, I feared I had scared him and the trance-like state would dissipate.
I held my breath as a cautious chubby hand reached up to my cheek. Then, like the sun breaking through stormy clouds, a huge, gummy grin overtook Naruto's face He giggled loudly, rubbing my cheeks between his perfect grubby hands.
A weight I wasn't aware existed evaporated from my chest.
For the first time in over a year, my world burst into an array of colors and light. I smiled back to Naruto just as wide, feeling like a missing piece in my heart fell snuggly back into place where it was always meant to be.
The puzzle itself wasn't complete, not by a longshot. There were still frayed and torn edges—dark spots left untouched; but this was enough for the time being.
I tucked my brother into my arms, forming a protective shield around him and cried. I cried for the life that was snatched away from me; for a little girl who wasn't meant to be but was. I cried for the billions of moments that could have been but were lost forever in time.
When my crying stopped, Hiruzen put his hand on my shoulder. "So? What do you think?" he inquired warmly.
I looked up at him through tear-filled eyes and a wobbly smile as Naruto pulled at my hair. "He is everything."
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.
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That night, I sat down in my apartment and began to plan.
My mind, the clearest it's been in a long time, decided something: Danzo was dangerous.
Not only was he the puppeteer of the Uchiha's demise, he also kidnapped unwilling children from their homes and orphanages in order to cultivate them into mindless, emotionless machines. Something I was wholly against.
Kidnappers would receive absolutely no mercy from me.
With that in mind, what if my existence in this world as Konoha's second jinjuriki made it to where there would be no repercussions to Danzo taking Naruto? Why worry about one specific child's safety when there was a backup?
How convenient it must be to have two tools capable of mass destruction in your arsenal. If one of us siblings were to die, there would be another ready to take its place.
Add that to the fact Naruto was a baby—i.e., more easily moldable—made it that much more plausible he would be taken into ROOT's clutches.
That wasn't the life I wanted for my baby brother. Being part of ROOT would strip away everything that made him so extraordinary. His spirit would be broken before it even had a chance to flourish.
On the other hand…
I rolled over in my bed, throwing an arm over my eyes to block out the setting sun.
If I were to join willingly, I could cut off that idea before it had even a moment to take root—no pun intended.
With my knowledge of what was to come, and a proper plan, I could take Danzo down from the inside. It didn't matter if I died in an attempt to take him down, because I didn't truly exist.
Besides, no one would listen to a child claiming future vision. They'd think my time away from the village made me lose my fucking mind.
Which admittedly it kinda did. (But who wanted to deal with those kinds of emotions? There were more important things to do)
I still knew everything that was to happen, but that knowledge wouldn't last the test of time. I would forget things; it was a fact. Somehow, I needed to retain all of my memories without being stupid and writing it all in a journal.
I sprang up in my bed, a brilliant idea smacking me in the face.
Of course!
"I'll write a book!"
…
(End)
A/N: Took long enough, right? Same old feeling of not being a good enough writer stopped me from doing any sort of writing. Overcame that when I realized I would never get better if I didn't write and practice. So.
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