A/N: I'm trying to continue this story for someone on trial. I hope he's reading.
Chapter 10 – Chain
A flash of sunlight through the canopy pierced the darkness, cutting a path across his eyelids. The screaming faded, replaced by the beating of his own pulse in his ears. Kakashi's fingers dug into the cold earth—a weak echo of the desperation clawing at his heart. Sweat and blood painted his hands, a grim mirror of his own failures.
Was this...real? His throat ached, raw and burning. Something was clenched in his fist—cold, rough...
He forced his eyes open, blinking against the brightness. A chipped piece of bark.
"Obito?" he croaked again, the word a plea.
Where... ?
Confusion swirled along with a returning sense of self. His hand moved to his mask, but only empty air met his fingers.
He was alone. Where was Hinata?
A fresh wave of panic threatened to pull him under, but he fought it back. Sunlight flecked the forest floor, fallen leaves still around him—he remembered this place.
"Hinata?" His voice was barely a whisper, catching against the sudden dread. He lurched upright, the world spinning.
While shadows receded in the clearing, elsewhere, a different sort of darkness took flight.
The intense sunlight pierced the canopy, mottling his skin and compelling Itachi's eyelids to part wider...
He was overcome by a disorienting wave of nausea as he recognized that he was splayed on the forest floor, his body cold.
Breaths ragged, his chest aflame. The memory of her—Hinata—lingered like a fading shade. The clearing was silent, yet pulsating with his own frantic heartbeat.
So this was the price of his curiosity—to get close, to steal a glimpse of her face.
His hand moved instinctively to his throat, expecting to find a fatal wound. Instead, his fingers brushed against smooth, unmarred skin. Confusion bloomed alongside the lingering terror.
Then came the cawing.
A guttural chorus filled the air, a cacophony that seemed to carry a dark intelligence. Itachi tensed, the Sharingan blazing to life. Each crow perched motionless on the branches above him, their beady eyes locked onto his with chilling focus.
One descended, landing a few feet away. It tilted its head, the scarlet glow of his eyes reflected in its own.
"She is gone." Its voice was rasping, strangely amplified in the quiet clearing.
Itachi surged to his feet, a wave of dizziness overwhelming him. He gritted his teeth, fighting the encroaching weakness. "Gone? Where?"
"Flown, traitor-bird," another chimed in from above, its beady eyes gleaming with cruel amusement. "The white-eyed girl did not finish what she started."
The words struck him like a physical blow. Hinata, with her trembling hands, had chosen defiance. His breath hitched.
"She defied. She healed," several voices rasped in unison.
A sense of unreality washed over him. Healing? From her, the girl who had every right to end his wretched existence? The crows circled closer, their caws blurring into an indistinguishable, mocking chorus.
"Healed…defied…a fool's act…"
Itachi swayed. The world swam, and an aching hollowness settled within him. The crows' chatter grated, a harsh counterpoint to the haunting silence within and around him.
"Hush," he ordered weakly, and with surprising obedience, the crows fell silent. He closed his eyes, seeking a trace of her within the tangled web of his senses.
The faint imprint of her chakra lingered within him, not destructive, but a surprisingly soothing balm against the ravages of his illness. Her touch, delicate and precise, had left a trail in the pathways of his own energy. This was proof, tangible and undeniable, of her mercy. Yet, it was also an accusation far more potent than any blade.
A bitter smile formed on his lips.
Her mercy had chained him tighter than the clad of any iron.
Head still reeling, he grabbed his katana and rose to full height, "I must find her…"
Elsewhere, the forest floor throbbed with an unnatural rhythm, sunlight stabbing through the leaves like daggers. Rising dust shimmered with an otherworldly glow.
Kiba and Shino backed away, eyes fixed on Yoshizaku. His ember-like eyes glittered, hungry and cruel. With unnerving calm, Yoshizaku surveyed the scene.
"Where's the heiress?" His voice rasped, a shard of frost in the humid air.
"What's your business with her?" Shino countered, voice a flat, buzzing drone.
A predatory smile twisted Yoshizaku's lips. "Just want to take a look at the girl who ended Banshi."
Kiba growled, nostrils flaring. His pulse pounded in his ears as he choked on the acrid scent of damp leaves and fear.
"Don't be mad. I just want to thank her for taking that task from me. Been thinking of ending Banshi myself."
Shino's insects buzzed, a dark symphony of unease. Without hesitation, Kiba charged. "You had one job!" Fingers flashed through seals, but Yoshizaku was a blur of motion. A glint of surprise, then...
"Doro Toge!" A guttural roar, and the ground beneath them erupted. Jagged spikes of hardened clay ripped from the forest floor, smelling of dark, freshly turned earth.
Shino didn't shout—there was no time. His swarm surged out in a black, chitinous wave, each insect hardening its shell as they slammed into the spikes with the sound of rain on stone. The impact rattled his bones; a furious swarm trapped behind a brittle barricade.
He flicked a glance at Kiba, a silent signal woven into the frenzied insect hum. Kiba, mid-air, teeth bared in a snarl, nodded back, eyes grim.
Yoshizaku, older with calloused hands and the sun-bleached hair of a seasoned predator, flicked a glance away—a twinkle of alarm.
Kiba completed his seals. "Contact!"
Akamaru answered with a bone-shaking bark, fur rippling like wind over wheat. Yoshizaku swore, sweat beading on his brow. "What in the—?"
Shino's swarm strained against the spikes, the sharp scent of ozone mingling with crushed insects. "Impressive," he said, voice as cold as the earth Yoshizaku commanded. "But clay this brittle won't last."
Yoshizaku twitched, smirk contorting his lips. The ground heaved – another strike brewing.
"Mushi Dama," Shino whispered. The bugs spiralled towards Yoshizaku, disrupting the forming spikes and the flow of his chakra.
'He seems to have an ability to mold the earth into shapes. Clay? But no hand seals. Kekkei Genkai?' Shino's mind raced, a silent counterpoint to the insects' drone.
Suddenly, Yoshizaku's form shattered before Shino's bugs were able to completely embrace him. His form crumbling into clods of dry earth, leaving a lifeless mound on the ground.
"Clone," Shino stated, the buzz of his insects now a hum of anticipation. Both of them scanned the forest, senses taut, searching for the man who declared himself 'janitor'.
Under this towering oak, the forest was coming alive with a cacophony of sounds.
Still lurching, Kakashi's fingers dug into the cold earth, seeking proof of reality—finding only absence beside him. The question fractured as sparks erupted in his vest—a burning jolt against his hammering heart. He jerked back, shoving a stunned hand beneath the fabric, to the scroll sealed there.
Heat shimmered down the scroll's surface now, the complex sealing script throbbing ominously. Almost like a heartbeat. Kakashi exhaled hard, his breath finding rhythm with the scroll's frantic pulsing.
CONTACT.
One word only, forged in scorched letters that seared message and purpose down to his core.
Jaw setting, Kakashi dragged himself up, the scent of damp leaves and singed cloth sharp in his nostrils. He was needed. And Hatake Kakashi would answer.
Kakashi's world lurched. A heartbeat hammered in his skull, muscles screaming in protest. Yet, deep within, a stubborn ember of chakra flared to life. Eyes flaring open, he willed himself into a shunshin, materializing on a branch on top of a tree, overlooking the shrine.
No time for drawbacks.
He soared upwards, wind whipping his face, the sting of sweat in his eyes as he made a few seals and launched a jutsu. "Katon: Ryūka Ikari!"
A fiery dragon erupted from his lips, scales molten gold, leaving streaks of embers across the darkening sky. Its guttural roar shook the air, and a searing wave of heat oscillated outwards. Each ragged breath felt like a stolen victory.
Near the shrine, the red-haired jounin staggered, eyes wide, as the blazing dragon cast monstrous shadows across the landscape. Sizzling heat washed over him. "Contact!" he alerted, heart pounding like a war drum. A kunai flashed. "Positions! Alert and defend!"
"There was this guy I met once, also an Aburame."
Yoshizaku's voice came from their behind. Shino and Kiba turned, a jolt of surprise running through them. The man sat perched on a rock, his posture relaxed.
"He almost killed me. If I hadn't hidden deep underground...well, you wouldn't be seeing this charming face now, would you?" The way his posture relaxed it almost seemed like he was a bard instead of a fighter.
"His attire was cool, I'll give you that. But his bugs? A slow, agonizing death from the inside out. Compared to him, your ability is child's play."
Despite the threat, something was off. Not the tactics of a cornered man. Shino's jaw tightened. "You talking about my brother, Torune-aniki."
"Ah, yes. Aburame Torune."
"You're quite friendly for a crook trying to steal our friend's dojutsu," Kiba intervened. "Time to put the crook down! Your dojutsu-stealing game ends here."
"Don't mistake my friendliness, boy. I will subjugate you like the dog you are," he said in a casual tone, a contrast to the menace in his words.
A low growl rumbled from below. Yoshizaku's smirk faltered. Blurring into motion, Akamaru lunged, spinning into a whirlwind of white fur and claws. "Not if Akamaru gets to you first!"
The impact rattled the forest floor. Yet, instead of fur meeting flesh, Akamaru crashed into Yoshizaku, but as soon as the dog hit, his solid form glazed, as if lacquered like a clay vase , the scent of damp earth exploding outwards. Yoshizaku shattered into clods, crumbling to the ground.
"Damn, another clone," Kiba growled.
Shattered branches and wisps of smoke marked the spot where Kakashi landed after signaling Kamiya's team at the shrine. His heart hammered in his chest, realizing Hinata was missing.
Was she taken? Or did she simply leave?
No time for questions, only a cold, relentless certainty that spurred him into action. A quick smear of blood across his palm, teeth bared in an echo of a growl—the familiar summoning seals were a blur. Pakkun, Bull, Shiba... his pack materialized, eyes gleaming with sharp intelligence. They flickered briefly towards him, as if understanding his next move.
"Hyuuga Hinata." His voice cracked slightly, a tremor of exhaustion betraying his stoic facade. "Find her, keep her safe, and then inform me of her whereabouts."
Urushi whined, nudging his hand. The old dog knew. Trust, tinged with desperation, filled Kakashi's chest as they streaked off into the gathering darkness.
He slid up his headband, revealing a blazing Sharingan. Time to begin his own search of her.
A cold laugh resonated from above, and they both spun to see Yoshizaku casually perched on a tree branch.
Instinctively, Shino's hands flew into the rabbit seal, "Katon: Housenka!" A torrent of fireballs erupted from his mouth, streaking towards the grinning figure. But before the flames could engulf him, Yoshizaku barked out, "Doro Yoroi!"
Instantly, a thick clay armor formed around the man, blocking the fire then molding seamlessly into a towering, monstrous form. The clay giant leaped with surprising agility, landing with a ground-shaking thud. The air crackled with intense heat from the thwarted fireballs and the pungent smell of scorched leaves.
Shino made another Rabbit seal, "Suiton: Suryuudan."
A snort escaped him when his water dragon washed uselessly over the towering giant. He bit back a frustrated curse and formed the familiar rabbit seal once more. This time, no jutsu, just a silent calculation in his eyes.
"Thank you, bug boy, I needed to bathe, by the way. Now it's MY turn..." Yoshizaku's laughter boomed amidst the dissipating mist.
The word hung in the air, unfinished. The same instant, Kiba and Akamaru erupted into motion - a double whirlwind of fangs and fur honed by countless battles. "Garouga!"
There was booming thud, the impact rebounded dully against the armor. Cracks spiderwebbed the armor, chunks of clay flaking away unexpectedly. A hint of surprise, perhaps even a flash of pain, crossed Yoshizaku's face before his features smoothed into a familiar smirk.
"Got him!" Kiba barked, a surge of adrenaline masking the tremor in his voice.
But Shino was already crouched low, eyes narrowed. "Not quite." He pointed towards the exposed cracks, his next strategy forming behind his stoic facade.
Yoshizaku's smirk widened, merely pushing his palms together—the clay flowed across the armor like quicksilver, a soft scraping sound echoing in the clearing as it erased the cracks.
"He's just gonna regenerate if we use physical attacks." Shino commented. "It's a Kekkei Genkai."
"Smart bug. Looks like you're not so stupid after all. Now, I'd run away if I were you," Yoshizaku responded.
Kakashi sprinted through the twilight, Sharingan ablaze. The forest held its breath, a symphony of rustling leaves and snapping twigs—a dramatic dissimilarity to the silent panic pounding in his chest. Every shadow, every twisted root, mocked him with possibilities, each one twisting the knife of worry deeper.
She had to find her way back to Kakashi-sensei.
The weight of his last look pressed against her. Broke her.
The forest floor was a blur beneath her sandals. Branches whipped at Hinata's face, thorns tearing at her exposed skin, but she ignored the pain. Her breath came in ragged gasps, sweat mingled with the damp woodland air, stinging her eyes. Yet, her Byakugan vision pierced the dim undergrowth, searching desperately for an escape.
A flash of sunlight—a clearing perhaps. Her feet kicked harder, muscles screaming. Just a few more steps to open ground...wire-thin thread glinted in the half-light, stretched taut across her path. It was nearly invisible, but her Byakugan caught it. Too late. Her ankle snagged, pain lancing up her leg as the line cut deep. She lost her footing and tumbled, the world a dizzying whirl of green and brown.
She hit the ground hard, gasping. Her ankle throbbed, a sickening certainty of failure settling over her.
"Well, well," Daisuke's voice drawled from above, laced with cold amusement. "The little Byakugan princess falters at last."
Hinata rolled onto her back, eyes fixed on him as he stepped into view.
Who is this…?
His build was rock-solid, each movement deliberate and powerful. There was a hardness in his eyes, hinting her that his wouldn't be some merciful capture.
Is this man Hakumei?
Hinata's heart pounded against her ribs. Her eyes, wide with fear, never stopped searching. A branch there, a jutting rock... anything that could become an escape, a weapon she didn't have.
Her hand darted to her pouch, fingers fumbling for a kunai. Useless. But she had to try. As Daisuke neared, she launched herself upwards, fist blurring towards a tenketsu point on his shoulder. He was ready, catching her wrist with crushing force.
A grunt of surprise escaped him as her other palm struck his chest, her chakra disrupting his flow. Not enough to disable, but it bought her an instant. Hinata twisted, wrenching her captured hand free and pivoting. Her fingers found their marks, a precise jab to his ribs. If only she had more time, more chakra...
Daisuke snarled, backhanding her across the face. The world exploded in a flash of white pain. She stumbled, her vision swimming. Before she could recover, he was upon her, pinning her to the ground with the brutal efficiency she'd feared. Before she could gather her wits, his hands moved in a blur—seizing her wrists, yanking up her sleeves with a sharp, "Don't even think about it."
He twisted the fabric into a tight knot behind her back.
"A Hyuga like you shouldn't leave their hands unguarded, especially not around someone they just tried to attack." Daisuke's voice was a harsh rasp, the amusement gone, replaced by a cold calculation. "Don't struggle," he hissed in her ear. The forest spun, fading into a terrifying darkness.
Suddenly, something shifted. For a split second, his harsh features softened, a gentle, almost sad smile twisting his lips. Then, he was steel and stone once more. He reached out, his index and middle finger touching the space between her eyes. A flash of his cruel grin, then nothing but blackness.
Daisuke stood and carried her limp body with him.
"The element of surprise always works..." Daisuke commented calmly, adjusting his grip on her limp body. "And perhaps you'd still be alive if you had that in mind, Banshi." He paused, a spark of something cold passing over his features.
He then leaped onto trees. Hinata felt the swooshing wind against her cheek. The world tilted, the forest floor a dizzying blur beneath her. Each tree whipped past, strands of her hair brushing her cheek like a frantic caress.
Then, a jolt—his arm tightening, the scent of his cedarwood and old leather sharp in her nostrils.
Yoshizaku smirked. "Still think you can stand against me? Your pathetic excuse for a bug armor won't last much longer." He was the picture of arrogance before them, yet a tremor in his hand, the frantic pulse at his temple, betrayed the desperation roiling beneath.
Panting, Kiba glared daggers at the man. Stubborn determination coursed through him, but he felt the beginnings of fatigue settling in. Each failed attack, each dodged fang, chipped away at his stamina. Akamaru's panting echoed his own.
A dark swarm buzzed around Shino, the insects humming with subdued tension. "Kiba," Shino's voice was cold, "Remember the elemental seal."
Kiba blinked. Damn, he'd almost forgotten! The thrill of battle had nearly overtaken any strategic thought. "Right…that thing…" He eyed the scroll, then looked at Yoshizaku. His fingers itched to draw a kunai, to rely on the familiar weight of a weapon in his hand. But he knew Shino wouldn't suggest it unless it was necessary. "Okay, how to initiate it again?"
"Rabbit." Shino's voice was a bare whisper, but it cut through the din of battle. Then, a faint buzzing…a crackling undercurrent humming beneath the swarm's incessant thrum.
Kiba followed Shino's example, forming the familiar hand seal. A jolt shot through him, and he suppressed a gasp. The scroll felt alive, a crackling energy surging from it. He could almost see the potential, a destructive force waiting for his command. Then, Kakashi-sensei's words filtered back: …announce by name.
Instinct took over. "Katon: Housenka!" He barked.
A torrent of flames erupted from his mouth, but unlike a regular jutsu, these were denser, infused with something… different. The flames roared towards Yoshizaku.
"Raiton: Kaminari." Shino's voice, deceptively low but resonant with power, echoed through the clearing. From the swarm, a streak of pure white lightning shot forth.
The simultaneous attacks collided with Yoshizaku's hastily reformed armor. Shino noted, even through the smoke and steam, the way the clay seemed to shift and warp under the combined assault. A fissure formed, thin threads of molten red glowing from within.
Yoshizaku swore, the sound muffled by the onslaught. He stumbled back, palms hastily uniting, and a fresh layer of clay hardened over the breach. But fear flickered in his eyes, his usual arrogance briefly displaced. Sweat beaded on his brow, a tremor running through his hand as he hastily reformed the armor.
These brats… they were stronger than he'd anticipated. His earlier arrogance chipped away, replaced by a cold, calculating focus.
A flutter of movement above—a dark shape against the fading light. A single crow circled; its beady eyes gleaming with a strange intelligence.
His eyes snapped back to the battle. The dog-boy's flames blazed with abnormal intensity, and the buzzing insect swarm was infused with a crackling energy. Yet, they were only using one hand seal for these powerful attacks…
A quiver of realization struck. Fuinjutsu. Not another Kekkei Genkai, but an external device! He'd underestimated these Konoha shinobi. They had a trick up their sleeves.
But so did he.
A grim smile twisted his lips. Time to up the ante. This was going to get interesting.
"Doro no Kyojin!" Yoshizaku's mocking voice echoed through the clearing. His hands danced in intricate seals, and the monstrous giant seemed to shift, melting and then reforming in a sickening display. Kiba recoiled as two smaller figures, equally grotesque, split off from the main mass. This was beyond anything he'd expected.
"Kiba!" Shino's voice pierced the air.
Kiba doubled himself atop Akamaru, hands flashing the Tiger seal.
"Jinjū Kongō Henge—Santōrō!"
Chakra surged, their forms dissolving into a swirling vortex, merging them into a nightmarish chimera. The three-headed wolf materialized from this unholy tempest, its howl echoing as if from another dimension. It loomed, a creature of pure, unnatural power that defied understanding.
Kiba felt raw power surge through him, every instinct screaming to destroy.
Yoshizaku's smirk faltered. His eyes narrowed as he focused on the monstrous beast before him, a sway of unease replacing his prior confidence. He hadn't expected… this.
Shino didn't waste the moment. " Fūton: Daitoppa." A surge of focused wind tore from his hands, targeting the distracted Yoshizaku. The man stumbled, his attention wrenched away from the battle as his own footing faltered.
Now! Shino wove his next set of seal jutsu. "Doton: Doryūsō." The ground beneath the smaller Clay Giants erupted, jagged spikes piercing their clay forms. The giants faltered, their focus shattered.
The three-headed wolf seized the opening. It lunged, a monstrous blur, each head targeting a vulnerable point on the larger figure. The Clay Giant tried to defend, but the wolf's speed was overwhelming. Fangs tore into clay, shattering and crushing as the wolf spun, its colossal form a whirlwind of destruction.
The impact sent tremors through the ground, snapping Kiba and Akamaru out of their Santōrō form. Kiba was thrown clear, landing hard against the base of a tree. His head whipped back with the force of the impact, and he slumped, unconscious, as Akamaru whimpered at his side.
With a final, earth-shattering blow, the Clay Giant collapsed, crumbling into a lifeless pile of earth.
He whirled against the wind like an arrow slicing through the serene sky.
Itachi sprinted through the stippled light of the forest, the Sharingan a fiery beacon against the green blur.
Her piercing chakra had caused him to bleed, but now circulating inside his network. It was faint, wispy, but he somehow felt better. Like something shackling had loosened—but he wasn't sure if it's a good or bad thing.
The sudden, discordant caws of the crows pierced his single-minded focus. He twisted mid-stride, skidding to a halt. A single crow swooped from the dense foliage above, landing on a broken branch nearby, its beady eyes alight with a familiar intelligence.
"The girl...taken," it rasped, the cruel glee of their last encounter absent. This had an edge of urgency, mirroring his own. "A man...stone-smells-of-stone..."
Itachi's eyes widened, a surge of surprise and disconcerting... something flooded him.
His body propelled itself forward before his mind could parse the situation. With a surge of chakra, his speed became almost inhuman, a desperate blur of movement.
The crows became his vanguard, their harsh cawing clearing a path through the dense undergrowth. He trusted they understood the urgency, perhaps a sense of investigation driving him too.
Sweat mingling with clay dust, Yoshizaku panted, each breath rattling in his lungs. The monstrous three-headed beast towered over him, a whirlwind of teeth and claws. His chakra reserves were a dry well, scraping bottom. Yet, surrender was unthinkable. A frantic plan began to take shape in his mind.
With a defiant snarl, Yoshizaku slammed his hands against the ground. The remnants of the shattered Clay Giant began to swirl around him, fueled by the last fading embers of his power. A shimmer of madness crossed his eyes as he coughed, a spattering of blood staining the forming clay.
"Think…it's over…?" He choked out the words between ragged breaths. The clay pulsed around him, a writhing mass of stolen life. Tendrils snaked towards the fallen wolf, their touch promising a gruesome feast.
Kiba's body lay limp, the howl frozen in his throat. Akamaru whimpered, his muzzle stained with Kiba's blood. Shino's eyes burned, not with tears, but with fury.
At another part of the forest, bound by an unseen contract, Kakashi's summon hunted, relentlessly tracking Hinata.
Urushi, the wizened bloodhound, picked up the scent of the stranger's unfamiliar chakra. He paused, nostrils flared, and let loose a series of sharp barks followed by a mournful howl, a chilling contrast to his usual focused hunting cry. Kakashi, attuned to his ninken's language, instinctively understood. This was more than simply tracking—this was fear mixed with a sense of loss. A coil of steel tightened around his heart.
The dog barked.
"A man…he has her."
It barked again.
"Good job, Urushi. After him! The rest, back to the village!"
"Okay, Kakashi," Pakkun replied. All the dogs beside Urushi disappeared, leaving the two of them following Daisuke's trail.
A crow circled above, a single, watchful eye amidst the thickening shadows, as though monitoring the area.
Shino looked at an unconscious Kiba with a deep ache. This was unacceptable. His calculations whirred—was the Tank Weaver enough? There was no other choice.
Shino crouched, his hand slapping the earth. "Kuchiyose no Jutsu." Smoke choked the air, and something monstrous emerged from its depths. The Tank Weaver was a nightmare given form—obsidian armor, mandibles twitching with a hunger older than the trees, the very air vibrating with its raw power.
The surprise on Yoshizaku's face was a grim satisfaction. Even cornered, his eyes gleamed with a desperate trick yet to be played, mirroring the twitching mandibles of the monstrous beetle.
With a screech that tore through the twilight, the Tank Weaver charged. It hit Yoshizaku, and his armor shattered into pieces.
Vulnerable, Yoshizaku didn't surrender, instead making a few motions with his hand, his shattered clay armor formed the shape of a large Chokuto, and aimed straight at the giant bug's soft head. The blade pierced; the beetle's cry cut short... but Yoshizaku's victory was premature. Even as the Tank Weaver collapsed, its death throes shattered the skeletal clay construct once more.
A waver of triumph crossed Yoshizaku's face, twisted and sickly in the fading light. "Survived that, didn't I? Just like Torune's bugs... burrowed deep to escape..." He choked, spitting blood. "I'll do the same. Then..."
The ground beneath Yoshizaku split open, unleashing not earth, but a writhing ocean of insects. The Flesh-Weaving Swarm, a thousand chittering mouths, a thousand pinprick eyes.
"Hidden aces..." Shino's voice was a cold whisper against the rising buzz. "...You weren't the only one with a play left. This forest... it was always my domain."
Yoshizaku's scream pierced the twilight, boastful words dying with him. He thrashed, a puppet tangled in unseen strings, but the swarm was an unstoppable tide.
Mushi Damare. Shino's order echoed, a final nail in the coffin.
The clearing fell silent. No heroic death, no grand explosion. Only Yoshizaku, his scream choked off as he was swallowed whole by the rustling swarm, the fading light glinting off a thousand tiny wings.
Shino didn't wait long to watch. Instead, he moved towards Kiba and Akamaru. He knelt beside the the slumped boy, the uneven rise and fall of his teammate's chest a shaky reassurance.
With cultivated care, he lifted Kiba's unconscious person and settled him onto Akamaru's broad back. A single tremor passed through his hands—exhaustion from the fight or relief at its end, he couldn't tell. The clearing around them, gouged and littered with clay, was a stark reminder of the battle's intensity.
"We need to find Kakashi-sensei," Shino spoke, his voice hoarse. Akamaru's whimper was a mournful echo, his nose already tracking their teacher's scent.
The fading twilight washed the forest floor in shades of violet and amber.
Daisuke moved with the calculated ease of a predator, Hinata's limp body a mere burden across his shoulder. Each footfall was muffled against the soft earth, every rustle of leaves planned. His senses were hyper-aware, not just of the terrain, but the subtle shifts in the very air around him.
He paused beside a towering oak, a twisted scar crisscrossing its rough bark. With slick proficiency, he gently lowered Hinata's unconscious form against the base of the tree. Her long, midnight hair fanned out, a stark contrast against the fallen leaves.
He observed her pale face for a moment, a dart of something cold behind his eyes.
Reaching into a hidden pouch, he produced a small, intricate seal. It pulsed with a dim red glow. This was not just a marker, but a beacon—a call that could be felt across vast distances by those attuned to its signature.
With a single, precise movement, he pressed the seal against the rough bark of the oak, then melted back into the shadows.
A plan was unfolding. His detour wasn't a retreat, but a calculated shift in the hunt. He moved with renewed purpose, no longer avoiding the pursuer, but actively leading them towards an encounter.
Now the prey would become the predator...and soon discover just how dangerous it was to outsmart a true hunter.
Kakashi skidded to a halt, the scent of damp earth and a metallic tang filling his nostrils.
"Urushi, focus!" His voice was harsh, echoing his internal turmoil. Thankfully, the dog didn't need his composure to do its job. One sharp bark, and it was bounding ahead, its nose twitching with renewed purpose.
Kakashi followed. Outwardly, his steps were measured, calculated. But inside, a desperate mantra pounded on: nobody dies on his watch…nobody…
His focus wavered, images of Obito and Rin flashing before him. Still, the honed instincts of a lifetime wouldn't betray him. He caught it—the subtle shift in the fallen leaves, the almost imperceptible tremor in the earth. A thin wire, taut as a bowstring, lay in wait. It was a trap.
He surged forward, not in panic, but purpose. Years of combat honed his reflexes. He twisted mid-leap, the wire slicing harmlessly through air where his ankle had been a fraction of a second ago. He landed in a half-crouch, a kunai flashing in his hand, an echo of the grace that always marked his movements.
"You're late." Daisuke's voice cut the silence, low and rough like gravel.
"You…a Hakumei?" Kakashi surged to his feet, Sharingan blazing. "Where is Hinata?" His tone held a forced calm that promised anything but.
Daisuke smiled, a thin, cruel line across his face. "The name's Kageyama Daisuke. She's safe…at least for now. You should feel honored, Hatake. It took considerable effort to craft a trap worthy of your talents."
The word 'trap' echoed in Kakashi's mind. He'd been too focused on the immediate threats, on protecting his team… He'd missed the bigger picture. "What game are you playing?"
"One where I hold all the pieces." Daisuke tilted his head, a mocking glint in his eye. "I gave your allies information, nudged them towards a certain path. The rest…well, you Konoha shinobi are so predictable. Always the trackers, the protectors."
A wave of surprise washed over Kakashi, yet beneath it burned a core of cold fury. He understood now. This mission, Banshi– all bait, a chain of events Konoha followed like a puppet.
Daisuke's grin widened. "You walked right into my hands, Sharingan Kakashi. And now, I have the prize."
Kakashi sobered. This wasn't a mere opponent, this was a mastermind who'd toyed with lives. "You'll regret this."
"Regret is for losers," Daisuke taunted.
The clearing was deathly still. Kakashi, poised against the backdrop of wind-whipped trees, surveyed his opponent. Daisuke stood deceptively relaxed, the faintest hint of a smile gracing his lips.
"Ready to entertain me, Hatake?" Daisuke's voice was smooth, an unsettling contrast to the tension in the air. Churned earth stung Kakashi's nostrils. A small smile emerged on his lips, "Meisaigakure No Jutsu", and the man vanished from sight without a trace.
Kakashi's Sharingan whirred, a desperate scarlet pinwheel against the gloom. Where was the man's chakra? The forest stretched silent, mocking his search. Then the earth exploded beneath him. Daisuke lunged, a flash of steel aimed for his legs. Kakashi didn't dodge. As the blade hit, he vanished in a burst of smoke.
Kakashi tore himself from the ground in front of Daisuke, a calculated strike dragging the man into the open. His left hand pushed the man, while Raikiri in his right hand pierced the chest only to meet wood, the jutsu a mockery. A voice, cool and amused, echoed from the treeline, "…impressive. A cautious move... sending a clone to greet me."
A flicker of annoyance crossed Kakashi's face, quickly masked. This game was getting tiresome.
"Your trap isn't exactly subtle to my Sharingan."
"I wonder, what are you without it?"
"Maybe a much happier shinobi. I gained some but lost my world," he muttered evenly.
"Too bad. That eye... it'll soon be mine."
"You're not the first one seeking it. And I'll name the price."
"How much." Daisuke's tone shifted, edged with avarice.
"Everything."
"A bargain won't change that fact. After all, your precious teammate is in my grasp."
"Let her go." Kakashi's voice now ice.
"What if I refuse?" Daisuke's smirk returned.
"I will become the nightmare you cannot escape." As he spoke, Kakashi crouched slightly, body language mirroring a predator poised to strike. His eyes narrowed, the Sharingan burning with an almost feral intensity.
At another corner in the woods. Hinata stirred, sharp pain lancing through her skull.
Reality lurched back, the world throbbing in time with her injured head. She tried to sit up, but a rough hand clamped down on her shoulder.
"Easy there, little Hyuga." The voice was like sandpaper, and her stomach twisted into a cold knot. She looked up into the chilling gaze of a towering figure. Eyes like winter steel glittered in the gloom.
He hoisted her up, his touch shockingly strong. Branches whipped her face as they moved, the world a blur of green and brown. They burst into a moonlit clearing. A stream burbled nearby, a mocking melody against the frantic drumbeat in her chest.
Shigai. Fear slithered through her as he laid the scroll against her skin. The symbols flared hot. But through it all, she heard the stream.
Vision of Kakashi-sensei, slumped and still, flashed in her mind—a shard of pain fueling her defiance. The water rippled, droplets rising, shimmering…transforming. Her training by the Konoha river, under the Sakura tree—water needles glinting in the wind.
They pierced Shigai now, a dozen stinging pinpricks. He froze. Triumph flared in Hinata's chest, then died. Her sleeves…knotted tight from her earlier struggle. Jyuuken was useless.
Escape was the only option, and as she distanced herself from the man—her control of the senbon waned—but this was a desperate gamble.
Shigai roared, breaking free. "Zetsubo Kaze!"
With a surge of wind and a sickly, twisting pull, he slammed her backward, bone-jarring force knocking the breath from her, her limbs weak as if the strength had been sucked right out of them. A metallic taste flooded her mouth.
Through the pain, she saw him approach, his face a mask of fury.
But the attack caused her knotted sleeves to loosen. With a free hand—she fumbled for an exploding tag. Her fingers felt like lead...why was everything so heavy? A trembling weakness spread through her limbs, unfamiliar and terrifying.
"Keep it in your pouch, it will do nothing to me. And your chakra is barely a flicker now. Surrender." Shigai rasped hoarsely.
Something in Hinata snapped. A hysterical laugh almost bubbled up. "It's not…for you…" A tear slid down her cheek. She raised the tag, memories flashing through her—her father's cruelty, the constant struggle, the weight of her clan.
But also Neji nii-san training her, Naruto-kun's unwavering belief, her teammates' support. And Kakashi-sensei, slumped and vulnerable somewhere in this forest.
She couldn't let them down. Her Byakugan pulsed. These eyes, her curse and her greatest weapon, pulsating with agonizing heat. A sob escaped. This was her responsibility—to protect her bloodline, and she would bear it—even if it meant destroying herself.
Horror flickered across Shigai's face. "Don't do it!"
She lifted the tag; her other hand clenched at her chest.
"These eyes ... are mine to keep ... and mine to destroy!" The words tore from her.
A flash of movement, a swirl of black feathers. Before she could ignite the tag, a cool hand closed over hers, yanking it away.
"It's not worth it." Uchiha Itachi's crimson eyes pierced the gloom.
This was taking too much time, and Kakashi was worried more than ever about Hinata.
The clearing was bathed in the fading hues of twilight, the tension hanging thick in the air.
"You have the option to leave," Kakashi's voice cut through the silence, a low rumble vibrating with restrained power. "My patience wears thin, and I seek a swift resolution."
Kakashi's Sharingan blazed crimson, the tomoe swirling with deadly intent. A trace of movement, too fast for Daisuke to fully register, and a sharp, cold sting sliced across his neck. His eyes widened, searching—and the world flipped, the forest floor slamming against his face with blinding force.
It twisted, a swirl of sickening vertigo, and Daisuke found himself staring at his own headless body. Blood throbbed in a grotesque fountain where his neck should be. For a single, horrifying heartbeat, he was two beings—one observing, one dying. Then, the severed head vanished into the void of Kamui.
A strangled gasp escaped Daisuke as Kakashi released him. The world snapped back into focus, and he staggered backward, the image of his own demise seared into his mind.
"A mere illusion," Kakashi's voice was devoid of emotion, "A glimpse of your fate should you choose to linger. Daisuke's bravado crumbled. The true threat of Hatake Kakashi, the Copy Ninja, washed over him in a chilling wave.
This is not a fight he can win. Survival instincts screamed in his mind. Daisuke scrambled back, eyes wide with terror. The afterimage of his own demise burned behind his eyelids. His bravado, shattered by Kakashi's display of power, gave way to a primal urge to survive.
"Your eye technique's a pain, aiming at a moving target, right?"
A cruel smirk twisted his lips for a brief moment, a desperate attempt to regain some semblance of control. He knew it was a flimsy challenge, a pathetic attempt to mask his fear. But the alternative—surrendering—was unthinkable.
"Then let's see you hit a moving target, Hatake!" Daisuke threw a smoke bomb at his feet, the thick cloud engulfing him instantly. He didn't wait for a response, his feet pounding the earth as he disappeared into the undergrowth.
Shigai recoiled, eyes narrowing, scanning the young man who was shielding the Hyuuga girl. "Who are you? Wait...those eyes...you wouldn't..."
A whisper of wind, the rustle of leaves. Itachi moved a step further, crimson eyes gleaming. "Perhaps you do know my name," his voice was low, a predator's purr. "And if you do, you should run.
"So much for wanting the Byakugan, now comes the Sharingan," Shigai muttered, it seemed that he had realized who the young man was, and knew the debilitating threat he possessed. After a few hand seals, he pushed the air with his hand. "Zetsubo Kaze!"
Itachi's Sharingan blaze crimson, pinwheeling hypnotically. In an instant, he recognized the threat, the way the air currents distorted around the jutsu. A glint of memory, Kakashi shielding himself with a wall of earth. A hint of a smirk touched the corners of his lips. A spark of recognition, perhaps even a hint of respect, crossed his stoic features.
With honed peacefulness, Itachi weaved his own seals, faster than the eye could follow. "Doton: Doryūheki!"
The earth surged up before him, a thick barricade of hardened mud and rock erupting from the ground. Shigai's Zetsubo Kaze crashed against the barricade, the impact shattering the wind into harmless shards.
Despite his years, Shigai felt a chill run down his spine. This opponent—this young prodigy—with his deceptive attractive face, wasn't someone he should take lightly.
"Kuchiyose No Jutsu!" The man declared, and patted the ground.
A muscle tensed in Shigai's jaw. This wasn't going according to plan at all. But his eyes gleamed with desperate hope. The beast, even with its immense size and natural ferocity, might not be enough against the Sharingan. But...there had to be something he could exploit.
Itachi remained impassive, the tomoe in his eyes rotating rapidly. The ground writhed, shadows twisting with a sickening eagerness. A rasping hiss filled the air, followed by the stench of decay. A monstrous claw ripped through the earth, followed by another, and another. The Komodo dragon emerged, a leviathan of scaled fury dwarfing the surrounding trees. Its tarnished scales sparked against the cracked earth, and its head – the size of a hut – swayed, dull yellow eyes larger than Hinata gleaming over the clearing.
Shigai's jaw clenched. This wasn't the plan, but a desperate waver of hope remained. Surely, even this beast could fall to the Sharingan… but he needed an opening.
Itachi remained impassive, the tomoe within his eyes spinning. In a heartbeat, his mind dissected the creature. Immense, yes, but slow to turn, its vision likely limited, and those softer scales beneath…
With maintained poise, he weaved a genjutsu. The Komodo lunged, snapping massive jaws at an illusionary target.
Itachi was already in motion, a blur of black against the moonlight. Not a head-on charge, but a calculated dance around the thrashing beast. Shuriken flashed, embedding themselves in the dragon's eyes, drawing roars of pain. His katana followed, not to slay, but to wound, to open a path.
A glimmer of the Mangekyo Sharingan, and a precise gout of Amaterasu ignited on an exposed patch of the dragon's underbelly. The creature went berserk, its thrashing shaking the clearing. Itachi didn't linger. A final shuriken, a vanishing act into the shadows—he was gone. The Komodo, even if mortally wounded, possessed the strength to crush him in its death throes.
The hunter was now prey.
Daisuke tore through the forest, heart pounding like a war drum. His ragged breaths mingled with the frantic rustling of leaves as he wove a desperate, zig-zagging path.
Some primal instinct urged him towards the marshy section of the woods—the treacherous ground a sliver of hope against Kakashi's relentless pursuit.
Behind him, Kakashi moved like a shadow. Smoke no longer obscured his sight, but the erratic path made a clean hit with his Sharingan difficult. However, patterns emerged beneath the chaos: an unconscious preference for firmer ground, a subtle shift to avoid the tangle of a fallen tree. It wasn't enough to predict Daisuke's every move, but it was a start.
A sharp burst of chakra, and Kakashi wrenched open a vortex with Kamui, consuming a large, jagged rock that jutted from the earth ahead. He maintained the portal, focus unwavering as he continued his relentless, yet subtly guided, pursuit.
Daisuke stumbled between two ancient trees, a path he unconsciously favored for its slightly firmer earth. This was it, the bottleneck Kakashi predicted. In that same instant, the rock reappeared from the void his Mangekyou Sharingan blaze unfastened, plummeting from the sky like the wrath of a vengeful god.
It struck the ground with a deafening crack that split the air, crushing Daisuke before a scream could leave his throat. The earth itself seemed to recoil. Dust swirled, obscuring the scene as Kakashi emerged from the shadows, eyes impassive.
No need for a drawn-out fight. A surge of chakra, familiar hand seals, and his voice cut through the lingering dust. "Doton: Reikyū." The ground beneath the shattered rock churned and liquefied, swallowing the debris and Daisuke's broken form.
Just as he had buried Banshi, his own body vanished into the unforgiving earth, leaving only a smooth patch as a chilling testament to the Copy Ninja's power.
The world tilted slightly as the adrenaline wore off. A distant pulse rippled through the earth, not the tremor of his jutsu, but a deeper, heavier beat.
It was faint, barely perceptible beneath the fading echoes of his fight, yet impossible to ignore for senses honed by a lifetime of battle. Kakashi frowned, Sharingan focusing on the subtle vibrations echoing through the ground.
A summon. A large, powerful one, clashing with a formidable foe. His instincts prickled.
The source of the tremor was about two hundred meters away—too close for coincidence, too potent to dismiss. A new piece on the board, and a potential threat.
A shift in the wind carried the faint scent of decay. Whatever this summoned creature was, it bore ill intent. Kakashi extinguished his jutsu, a ghost in the twilight as he moved towards the disturbance.
Duty demanded action. This forest held more than one threat tonight.
Kakashi moved with mastered stealth, the forest canopy barely rustling as he weaved through the undergrowth. The tremors intensified, punctuated by the occasional clash of steel and a guttural roar. The scent of decay grew stronger, a putrid miasma that twisted his nose. He was getting close.
The trees thinned, revealing a clearing bathed in an eerie moonlight. In the center stood a monstrous figure, its reptilian form half-shadow, half-illuminated. But the creature was still, a single, massive claw splayed on the ground, unmoving.
And then he saw him. Itachi, standing amidst the carnage, his black cloak billowing slightly in the breeze. Blood stained the blade of his katana, but his posture remained composed, the Sharingan blazing in his eyes. The air crackled with a faint, residual heat—the lingering aftermath of a powerful jutsu.
Kakashi understood instantly. Itachi had defeated the summon, but the victory carried a certain weight. There was a tension in his shoulders, a faint grimace on his face that spoke of exertion. This fight had not been easy.
Hinata, still sprawled on the ground, sagged with relief that gave way to a coughing fit. Each breath was a jagged gasp, a burning ache in her chest.
Itachi's gaze shifted towards her, concern momentarily creasing his brow before his cool mask returned. Even from this distance, Kakashi could sense her injury. He desperately wanted to step in, but something held him back.
Shigai, momentarily distracted, saw his opening. A desperate smile twisted his lips. "You think you've won, Uchiha? You haven't seen anything yet!" He slammed his hand to the ground, a pulse of chakra flowing from his palm. "Ninpo: Edo Tensei!"
The steady rhythm of Kakashi's heartbeat faltered, a single missed beat echoing the sudden shift in the battle. Edo Tensei...the forbidden summoning, bringing the dead back as mindless puppets of the caster.
The ground itself groaned, cracking and splitting. He had to act now. In a blur of motion, he reached for the sealed scroll strapped to his thigh, his hand already forming the seals to release the weapon within.
The earth erupted, skeletal figures clawing their way to the surface. Some wore faded Konoha flak jackets, others the uniforms of enemy nations—remnants of long-past battles, reanimated and corrupted. A chilling sight, but Kakashi didn't hesitate.
The scroll seal broke. In a flash of steel, a katana he won from the labyrinth in Iwa materialized in his hand. No flashy jutsu, no chakra manipulation. Here, only simple kenjutsu would prevail. He blurred into motion, a phantom among the dead, his blade a lethal whisper.
He severed limbs, shattered heads, carving a path of destruction through the unnatural horde. They were relentless, driven by the caster's will, but so was he. This wasn't just about survival. This was about protecting Hinata, protecting the future, even from the horrors of the past.
A bone-white hand shot forward, a skeletal samurai lunging at him. Kakashi parried the rusty blade, then shattered the creature's skull with a swift counterstrike. A moment's respite, and he risked a glance towards Hinata and Itachi.
Itachi, the Sharingan blazing in his gaunt face, was holding his own against the resurrected ninja. His movements retained their characteristic grace, but there was a hint of strain Kakashi recognized. The reanimated corpses, while slow, were tireless, driven by Shigai's twisted will.
"This is just like old times, Kakashi-san." Itachi's voice, deceptively calm, cut through the chaos.
The words struck a chord within Kakashi, a jolt of recogniton that Itachi was right. This was eerily reminiscent of their ANBU missions, facing unnatural foes with only their blades and honed skills to rely on. But those missions...they had left scars on both of them.
Shigai's face contorted in a grotesque grin. "You may have nullified the last attack, Uchiha, but this one will claim your soul!" His hands flew through intricate hand seals, a dark aura swirling around him. "Shiki Fūjin!"
The Shinigami materialized, its skeletal form a horrifying visage against the fading dusk. Its spectral arm shot forward, a chilling rasp echoing as it reached for Itachi's soul. Hinata gasped, fear tightening her chest. This was a jutsu beyond anything she had ever encountered.
But Itachi remained impassive. The Susano'o materialized around him, pulsing with an ethereal red light, its form solidifying further. He raised his left arm, revealing a shield emblazoned with a swirling Yata pattern - the Yata Mirror.
The Shinigami's spectral hand reached out, seemingly passing through the physical shield unimpeded. Itachi's eyes narrowed. This jutsu worked on a different plane, targeting the soul itself. He had to act fast.
With a swift, almost graceful movement, the Susano'o opened its saké gourd, the liquid inside spilled out, hardening to form a sword—the Totsuka Blade. The skeletal Susano'o thrust out a partially formed hand, desperately intercepting the blade as it slashed toward Shigai's Shinigami. The entity of pure death released by Shigai tried to fight—but couldn't resist the sealing power of the legendary blade.
Shigai, tethered to his Shinigami by the jutsu, screamed in agony. His life force seemed to drain away, his body withering before their eyes as his Shinigami was united and sealed within Itachi's spectral blade—severing the phantom connection between Shigai and his summoned entity.
With a wail, the Shinigami vanished, the unnatural pressure on the clearing dissipating. Shigai crumpled, a lifeless husk.
Kakashi, who had managed to get back on his feet as the Edo Tensei turned to dust with the death of their summoner—watched in stunned silence. This was power beyond mere jutsu – a battle against death itself, orchestrated by hidden legends and forbidden powers.
Then, Itachi moved. His Susano'o faded, the crimson glow of his Sharingan flickering with a hint of strain.
He took a slow, deliberate step toward Hinata, his movements betraying an underlying exhaustion. Kneeling, he placed a single hand on Hinata's semi-conscious form, then he rose, turning as if to leave. Before he could vanish, a voice cut through the clearing.
"Wait, Itachi." Kakashi appeared into view, his katana still clutched in his hand. He moved with developed composure, but the exhaustion etched on his features was evident. "I…I know everything about the Uchiha massacre."
Itachi paused, not turning fully. A muscle tensing in his jaw was the only sign of his surprise. "Ah, I guess she told you then." The words were deceptively casual yet held a bitter undercurrent.
"Itachi, listen to me. There's still time…we can save Sasuke. Come back with me to Konoha…and—"
"You know that is not an option, Kakashi-san." Itachi's voice was cold, cutting as he finally turned to face Kakashi. Yet, his posture, ever so subtly, held a weariness beyond simple battle fatigue. "She knows, and you know. This is where it should end. Your silence, for the Hyuuga girl's life."
There was no answer from Kakashi. A knot twisted in his stomach. He knew Itachi was right, a desperate, twisted truth built on sacrifices. Hinata, her involvement with Itachi... it now painted a far more complex picture than a simple kidnapping. His hand, tight on his katana hilt, reluctantly relaxed.
"I never really believed you were bad, Itachi." Kakashi's voice was almost a whisper, laced with a hint of regret.
A shadow crossed Itachi's face, a momentary hint of weariness in his eyes. It vanished almost as quickly as it appeared, replaced by his usual stoic mask. He said nothing, yet the subtle shift spoke volumes.
"Anyway, Kakashi-san, it's been an honor," Itachi said, the words holding an air of finality. He made a few seals. A gust of wind swirled, kicking up dead leaves as Itachi vanished in a flurry of crows. Silence descended on the clearing, thick with unanswered questions and a weight heavier than the gathering night.
A slight movement from Hinata reminded him of her presence. Kakashi rushed to her side, kneeling to examine her injuries. Her half-lidded eyes reflected the fading moonlight. A faint smile touched her lips as her hand weakly grasped his arm. "Kakashi-sensei. You came back," she whispered.
He returned the smile, relief washing over him mixed with concern. "Of course I did." She closed her eyes, unconsciousness claiming her once more.
The sound of voices broke through the silence. "Kakashi-san!" He turned to see Kamiya and his team approaching, torches casting flickering shadows on the ground.
Behind them, Shino stood stoically, supporting an unconscious Kiba who slumped against Akamaru. "We came here because of the giant lizard. Is everything okay?" Kamiya asked, his brow furrowed in concern.
"Hinata needs medical attention immediately. Other than that, Kageyama Daisuke and Shigai—liquidated," Kakashi declared, the weight of the word hanging heavy in the air.
Kamiya seemed a little surprised—before directing a medical Kunoichi to attend to Hinata.
Moonlight sliced through the dense forest canopy, painting the clearing in an eerie silver light. The air thrummed with the nocturnal chorus of crickets and the rustle of creatures unseen in the undergrowth. Obito emerged from the shadows, Itachi's unconscious form lying on the ground.
"What the...?!"
Through his Sharingan blaze, he saw Itachi's chakra, and his pulse. He went near, picked Itachi up and slung him over his shoulder like a sack of grain.
"Hmph. All this trouble, and this is where it ends?" Obito muttered, a touch of irritation beneath the usual playfulness. He scanned the clearing, the Sharingan swirling in his single visible eye, checking for any lingering threats.
Satisfied, he vanished into a swirl of distortion, the ripple of his Kamui swallowing both himself and his burden into the void.
Obito and White Zetsu stepped out of the void into a familiar space. The hidden base was a chilling contrast to the moonlit forest. Rough-hewn stone walls dripped with moisture, the air heavy and damp. Obito unceremoniously dumped Itachi onto a crude wooden cot.
Black Zetsu slithered out of the darkness, his voice a sibilant whisper. "He won't remember how he got back, will he?"
"Who cares?" Obito shrugged, straightening. "He'll wake up confused, disoriented. It'll only make things more interesting."
With a final glance at the unconscious Uchiha, Obito vanished into the twisting labyrinth of the cave. Black Zetsu melted into the stone floor. Only Itachi remained, a solitary shadow against the cold stone, a pawn moved in a game he only dimly perceived.
TBC.
Music: Kenji Kawai - Innocence
Dumdeedum: You came back! I hope you like this chapter. ^^