Authors Notes::

A bit late to update but here it is, this chapter is nothing but a interaction between Gojo and Kurama.

Enjoy the chapter.

Chapter 8

Kurama's massive crimson eyes gleamed with a seething hatred as he glared down at the figure in black standing before him, his entire being exuding an oppressive malice so thick that it weighed heavily on Gojo's chest. The chakra filling the space was overwhelming, even denser, and far more potent than any curse energy Gojo had ever encountered. He felt it pressing on his mind, his senses; the thick malice in the air made even his Infinity falter.

"Who are you, human?" Kurama's voice was a rumbling snarl, low and dangerous. "And do you even realize what you're doing, calling me by my name like that?"

Gojo gave a tight, uneasy smile, patting his sides as if to reassure himself. The idea of challenging yet another ancient, formidable entity had definitely not been in his plans today. "Believe me, I know exactly who I'm dealing with," he replied, feeling a trickle of sweat run down his neck as Kurama's chakra continued to bear down on him. But he kept his casual demeanor, one hand raised in mock surrender. "And honestly, I'd really like to keep my lower half in one piece, so… no thank you."

The fox's snarl deepened, its fangs flashing. "This isn't some playground for your amusement, human. I could tear you apart with a thought," he hissed, hatred burning in his eyes. "Nothing stands a chance against me"

Gojo's smirk wavered but only slightly, his irritation building beneath the oppressive weight of Kurama's chakra. "Big words for someone locked up in a cage," he muttered, half to himself.

The fox's eyes blazed as his voice thundered through the space. "Watch your mouth, pretty boy! Keep pushing, human, and I will grind you to dust, starting with your—"

"Kurama," Gojo suddenly interrupted, his voice firm and sharp, cutting through the fox's tirade. Kurama's growl faltered as the sorcerer stepped forward, his eyes narrowing in an uncharacteristic show of seriousness. "Is this how you treat someone who's actually got the guts to talk to you? Without trembling like they're about to piss themselves?"

Kurama's eyes flared, but before he could retort, Gojo dropped the bombshell. "Hagoromo would be disappointed."

The moment the name left Gojo's lips, Kurama's threatening presence seemed to freeze in place. His snarl faded, and his giant maw closed as he stared at Gojo in shock. The thick malice that had suffocated the space flickered, momentarily destabilized.

Kurama's massive red eyes blinked, his usual expression of contempt replaced by something akin to disbelief. "What did you say, human?" he asked, his voice quieter now, but no less dangerous. "How do you know the name of the Sage of Six Paths?"

The fox's gaze sharpened, scrutinizing Gojo with new intensity. The oppressive air of the Kyuubi was suddenly different—less of an immediate threat, but more calculated, as if Kurama was now assessing a potential puzzle he needed to solve.

"Hagoromo... is supposed to be nothing but a myth. Forgotten by most. Yet, you..." Kurama's voice was a low growl, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. "How does a human like you know about him? You shouldn't even be aware of his existence."

Gojo's grin returned, that same infuriating cockiness, but there was an edge of mystery to it now. He didn't answer right away; instead, he let Kurama stew in his own thoughts, allowing the silence to stretch for a few seconds. The sorcerer's patience was wearing thin with the fox's constant posturing, and his own discomfort with the oppressive chakra was growing more apparent.

Then, in a calculated move, Gojo reached up to his blindfold, slowly pulling it down and revealing his striking Six Eyes. His cobalt blue irises shimmered, glowing faintly under the oppressive energy that filled the air. Kurama's gaze locked onto them immediately, his once-mocking expression now completely serious.

Gojo hesitated for just a second, unsure if his powers would even function in this strange world. After all, this wasn't his domain, and chakra wasn't the same as curse energy. But he decided to go for it, trusting his instincts—besides, he wasn't one to back down from a challenge, no matter how dangerous.

"Don't ask questions you won't get answers to," Gojo said, his voice calm yet filled with that signature arrogance. He stretched out his hand, his Six Eyes flaring to life as he uttered the words that made Kurama's massive form stiffen.

"Let me show you instead," Gojo said with a sly smile.

His blue eyes shimmered as he raised a hand, fingers weaving through the air with grace, purpose, and a terrifying promise of power. He closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the familiar, overwhelming surge of cursed energy building within him. The atmosphere thickened, electricity crackling, as his voice resonated in a low, unyielding tone.

"By the boundless truth of the void… by the essence of all that is, and all that is not..."

Gojo's voice was calm, unwavering, each word slicing through the tension in the air. A vast surge of energy pulsed around him, setting the ground to quake, as an unseen force pulled everything toward him in a whirl of intangible energy.

"Limitless Cursed Technique: Domain Expansion… Infinite Void."

Suddenly, the surroundings shifted into an endless, overwhelming expanse. Kurama's eyes widened as he was transported into a world of infinite knowledge—a barrage of pure information, each detail sharper and more vivid than the last. The fox's vast mind, once so fierce, was now exposed to a deluge of visions, theories, and realities stretching beyond his comprehension. In a breath, he knew everything Gojo knew about this world called *Naruto*—the tales of shinobi, the legends of his own origins, the histories of Hashirama, Madara, and Naruto. There was no filter, no barrier, as every detail of his own existence was laid out like an open book before him.

As the Infinite Void expanded, feeding Kurama an endless deluge of knowledge, the Nine-Tails' powerful chakra flared in resistance. Most opponents would be paralyzed, trapped in a flood of useless information, but Kurama was no ordinary creature. He gritted his teeth, the pressure around him thickening with his malice as he pushed back against Gojo's technique. It was overwhelming, yes, but Kurama was able to withstand some of it, his mind burning through the chaotic stream of images with a fierce tenacity.

Gojo's voice seemed to resonate from every direction, echoing with clarity amidst the endless flood of information. "This is everything—your life, your battles, your future. Even the theories of humans who think they understand you. "Naruto", they call it."

When the Void finally collapsed, the two were left standing face-to-face in the silent cage once more. Kurama's breath came in deep, controlled heaves, but his eyes glistened with a strange, tempered fury as he processed what he had just seen. His mind swam with the events of what was apparently his world's future: a grand tale of the Uzumaki, Uchiha, and Senju. The so-called "Shinobi Wars," heroes, villains, and prophecies all danced through his memory. But as he sifted through it, he began to notice something… strange. None of it aligned with the reality he'd known in his thousand years of life.

"Interesting trick you have there," Kurama grumbled, his voice low. "But I've seen enough. So… that's how they dared to write my story?" He sneered, lip curling as he recalled the images of his supposed 'story' in Anime. The gall of it, the nerve. "A miserable character? To some pathetic little human?"

Gojo watched him with a raised brow, surprised at the fox's ability to not only withstand his Domain Expansion but also remain standing afterward. Kurama's hatred radiated, hot and seething, but under it, there was something else. A flicker of something unresolved.

For a moment, Kurama fell silent, his mind lingering on Naruto. The reincarnation of Asura, the one whom Hagoromo had deemed worthy. It was strange, but seeing that story unfold—even one so flawed—left an uncomfortable tug within him.

"So, human," Kurama growled, his voice more civil, though still tinged with that lingering malice. "It seems your world has painted a history for me. Sacrificed as if I were just a tool. But that boy—Naruto. He's supposed to be the reincarnation of Asura, blessed by Hagoromo himself." His tone softened only slightly, his gaze turning inward. "A connection to that… legacy. Feh."

Gojo smirked, crossing his arms with a hint of amusement. "Touched by destiny, were you?" he quipped. "Naruto may be some 'chosen one' in your world, but to me, you're still just a giant fox in a cage."

He growled, deep and resonant, stirring the oppressive air in the cage. "So, this supposed future… It's a twisted dream," he muttered, narrowing his eyes at Gojo. "Mito Uzumaki may have been my first jinchūriki, but I was never fully confined in isolation within her. I saw, heard, felt the world beyond the seal." He scoffed, the thought filling him with anger. "And who the hell is Tsunade Senju? Mito and Hashirama had only one grandson, and never did I hear of this 'medical genius'."

Gojo watched, stunned at the revealations, as Kurama went on.

"And the Hyūga clan?" Kurama sneered, his tone full of scorn. "I've encountered no one wielding anything called the Byakugan. Just random shinobi's with strange Dojutsu's, but nothing to suggest an entire clan."

Kurama's gaze grew darker, more thoughtful as he continued. "And Hashirama Senju, the so-called 'God of Shinobi,' didn't die mysteriously," he said, almost to himself. "He fought hard, and he lived longer than any of the accounts I just saw. Old age and the demands of his chakra—that's what ultimately claimed him. He wasn't killed in some secretive battle. And both the First and the Second Shinobi Wars directly and indirectly were ended by him." A low, reverberating growl filled the air as he finished.

Gojo tilted his head, visibly shook and also intrigued. "So, you're telling me," he said with a sly grin, "that the world as you knew it doesn't match the 'reality' of this… future?"

Kurama shot him a scornful look. "That's exactly what I'm saying. Either you've shown me a warped fiction, or someone's been rewriting history itself." He leaned in closer, his oppressive chakra tinged with a hint of frustration and bitterness. "I've seen centuries of battle and betrayal, human. But this—this so-called history is filled with names and events that never happened. Do they even know what the truth is?"

For once, Gojo dropped his usual smirk, finding himself caught up in Kurama's palpable anger. "Maybe it's some kind of alternate timeline?" he suggested, shrugging with genuine curiosity.

"Alternate? Perhaps," Kurama mused, his malice-wrought aura receding slightly as he considered the idea. "But something about it feels… off. It's like my life was erased and rebuilt from the ground up, by someone who doesn't know the truth."

"Wait, so you're telling me this whole reality," Gojo began slowly, "is some... what, fabrication? Some story slapped together by... who exactly?"

Kurama snorted, his red eyes narrowing. "You tell me, smartass. You're the one who shoved these idiotic visions in my head." His voice rumbled, dripping with disdain. "But if they were true, that'd make me little more than a fucking prop in some twisted myth made up by humans with half a brain!"

Gojo opened his mouth to retort but paused, taking in the ferocity in Kurama's voice. The fox was deeply offended, and it was clear that he didn't appreciate the idea of being reimagined as a pawn in the grand schemes of men he hadn't even heard of.

"Let me get this straight," Gojo said, a hint of disbelief creeping into his voice. "You're saying that you—Kurama, the Nine-Tails, the big bad monster of this universe—don't even know who half of these 'legendary' figures are? Tsunade Senju? The Byakugan users? The Hyūga clan?"

Kurama scoffed, his tails bristling with irritation. "Damn right, I don't! Hashirama's lineage ended with one grandson, that's it! No bullshit about a granddaughter becoming some healing prodigy. And the so-called 'Byakugan'?" He sneered. "Never seen or heard of it, and I've been around longer than any mortal. Whoever wrote this shit must've been smoking something."

Gojo took a deep breath, running a hand through his white hair as he absorbed Kurama's rant. "So... if what you're saying is true," he mused, "then this so-called 'Naruto' world I saw in the anime isn't exactly what's happening here. This isn't just some scripted fiction."

Kurama's eyes flashed dangerously. "Scripted fiction?" he snarled. "You mean I'm just a character in some cheap drama to entertain idiots?"

Gojo shrugged, slightly uncomfortable now. "I mean... yeah, kind of. In my world, you're this... angry giant fox demon, basically sealed inside some kid named Naruto. And it gets weirder. Apparently, you hate the guy at first, but then come to see him as a partner, and—get this—you willingly give your life in some spin-off story for his kid, Boruto. All noble sacrifice, kumbaya-type stuff."

Kurama's snarl deepened into a full-blown roar, his chakra pressing down on Gojo like a tidal wave. "And what moron thought that up?! I'm a force of nature, not some meek, jealous pet! And sacrifice my life for that kid? Who the hell wrote this garbage?"

Gojo chuckled, though there was a nervous edge to it. "Look, I'm just as thrown off as you are. In the version of reality I know, you're basically reduced to Naruto's chakra battery, growling every time he tries to use anything that isn't yours."

Kurama growled, his tails thrashing. "Do I look like the type to whine if someone decides to fight with other powers? Whoever thought I'd get jealous of a technique doesn't understand a thing about me. That show you watched sounds like pure trash."

Gojo raised his hands in surrender. "Hey, I didn't write it! Honestly, though, knowing this world isn't just some anime anymore is... unsettling. Means my being here isn't some scripted event or reincarnation trope. This might actually be... real."

Kurama studied him for a moment, his anger simmering into a deep-seated annoyance. "Real enough that you're here in my cage, standing before me, and very close to becoming lunch."

Gojo watched as Kurama's fury settled into a simmer, the raw power of the Nine-Tails tempered by a will that was as fierce as it was unyielding. He had always assumed that the beings in these "stories" had no real sense of autonomy, but Kurama was proving him wrong with every word, every venom-laced growl. Here stood a creature who rejected being molded by anyone, mortal or god, and Gojo couldn't help but feel a strange respect.

"So, what're you going to do now?" Gojo asked, leaning back with a faint smirk. "If this really is your world to define, what's the first step in tearAuring up that script?"

Kurama's lips curled into a menacing grin, his fangs gleaming in the dim light of the cage. "First, I make it clear to anyone—prophecy or not—that I'm no one's tool. That kid, Naruto… if he's supposed to be some 'chosen one,' he'll have to earn my respect and my power, not inherit it because some idiots wrote it that way."

Gojo chuckled, relaxing a bit now that Kurama's fury was pointed elsewhere. "So you're saying you'll let him prove himself?"

"Something like that," Kurama muttered, though there was a glint in his eyes that suggested his trust wouldn't come easily. "Naruto may be the reincarnation of Asura, but I'm done with the idea of being bound by fate. If he thinks he's worthy of my power, then he'll have to show me he's more than just a naive brat stumbling into greatness."

Gojo raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. "So, you're rewriting the story yourself. I like it." He grinned, the mischievous light back in his eyes. "Guess I'd better keep my popcorn ready. Sounds like this version of Naruto's story will be a hell of a lot more interesting."

Kurama snorted, though he looked almost amused. "You think this is entertainment? This is survival, human. And when this world sees what real power is, they'll know that destiny doesn't control me—I control it."

For the first time since they'd started their conversation, the two shared a look of mutual understanding. Both were forces unto themselves, bound not by rules or expectations but by the strength of their will. And in that moment, they each understood that they were no mere characters in a story—they were the ones who would write it.

Authors Notes::

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Until Next Time.

Ja Ne.