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Awakening
One moment he was in a snug, dark void. The next, he was violently yanked back to consciousness. He loudly gasped as the world came to around him. He tried to shout aloud for help but could only muster choked gargles.
The bed, the beeping medical equipment, the chemical-tainted air – it was all too much for him.
He felt a desperate desire for more. More air, more sky, more freedom.
He yanked his arm to grasp at the tubes digging into him but found his arm chained to the bedside.
"Calm yourself, prisoner 002." A female voice intoned and he whirled to see a nurse crouch down and input some values into a machine. The fluid in his IV bag darkened a bit before the prisoner felt drowsy.
"My name is N-n-naru-" He slurred before falling into a comfortable void again. The last time he will ever be afforded such a courtesy.
The next time Prisoner 002 was jolted awake, he was in a relatively stable condition. He wasn't having a panic attack nor was he desperately trying to gulp down air.
The sterile beeping of medical monitors filled the air, along with that ever-present chemical tang. His arms remained bound to the bedside, heavy steel biting into his wrists. He tested the cuffs and scowled when they didn't budge.
The door politely opened and a stoic-looking shinobi walked inside in Jounin's attire, the Leaf's village headband wrapped around his forehead. The man gave a once over to his room before turning to address him.
"Good Afternoon." The man said quietly. "My name is Tenzo."
"Charmed." The other drily replied. "My name's Naruto. Uzumaki Naruto."
"Not anymore. For the sake of your health, I will recommend that you address yourself as Prisoner 002." The man said. "Failure to comply can be ….. dangerous for your health."
"I will call myself by my own damn name." Naruto hissed. "Or did you forget who gave me that name?"
"If anything Prisoner 002." The man replied, ignoring Naruto's eye twitch at the dehumanization. "You are the one who has forgotten his heritage. You have disgraced both your martyred parents and the legacy of Uzushio."
"The legacy of Uzushio," Naruto said and spat on the floor. "Alongside my parents can eat dung." He spat again to accentuate the point.
"Rest assured, the sentiment is mutual," Tenzo said. "Regardless, I didn't come here to debate morality with you."
"Finally, the man gets to the point," Naruto said.
"This is the first and only chance to come clean and submit your own testimony for consideration in the appeals court," Tenzo said. "The offer will not be extended again. Do note that you are healthy enough to be transferred to the Torture & Interrogation Division"
Naruto chuckled at that. "T , huh? I've heard stories about that place. Honestly, I'm surprised it's taken you this long to bring them up." He leaned forward as much as the cuffs allowed, fixing Tenzo with a sad smile. "You don't need my testimony. I'm guilty."
Tenzo paused, studying him carefully. "Then you admit to conspiring to assassinate the Godaime Hokage, Senju Tsunade?"
Naruto's smile didn't waver. "Yeah, sure. Sounds about right." He sighed. "The only regret I've got is not finishing the job."
The room seemed to grow colder as the words sank in. Tenzo didn't flinch, his gaze sharp and unreadable beneath the facade. "You confess to the charge?" he asked, voice devoid of emotion.
Naruto laughed again, loud and unapologetic. "What do you think, genius? You've got me in cuffs, pumped full of drugs, pinned to a bed. Pretty clear I'm not going anywhere. So yeah—I did it. But if you think that's enough to make me beg, you've got another thing coming."
Tenzo nodded, slowly, as if the outburst were exactly what he'd anticipated. Pulling a folded paper from his vest, he smoothed it along the bedside. "For the crime of organizing a conspiracy to assassinate the Godaime Hokage," he recited, his tone clinical and detached, "the court martial organized by the Godaime Hokage has found Prisoner 002 guilty."
"Duly noted," Naruto said and Tenzo snapped the file shut and looked at him.
In a rare moment, perhaps one of the very few times in his life, Tenzo let his mask slip and emotions seep through.
"You disappoint me kid," Tenzo said. "Your parents were like Gods to us all. We fought for them. Bled for them. Killed for them."
Naruto didn't reply.
"The apple has fallen far from the tree," Tenzo said.
"Fuck off," Naruto swore and Tenzo nodded for the final time before exiting the room as a fussy nurse burst in and dragged him out, muttering something about excessively bothering the patients.
Naruto leaned back and got comfortable in his bed, taking the chance to relax as much as possible. Kami knows he is gonna need for what's about to happen.
The Next Day
Naruto awoke to his eyes watery and lungs full with the acrid smell of cigarettes. Immediately, his animal instincts roared at him that there was a bigger and much deadlier predator around him.
He looked up to see black eyes drilled into him with an unrelenting, pitiless stare, dissecting every inch of Naruto's being as if searching for cracks to exploit. They belonged more to a great white shark rather than a human being.
The man's sheer being and casual indifference radiated cruelty and apathy. He smoked a cigarette in a hospital ward and flicked it, not caring for where the ashes fell. Naruto could already imagine thousands screaming and eventually pleading in front of him. The effect was compounded by the man's tall height and muscular build.
"You know who I am." The man declared.
"Yeah," Naruto said, his voice level, betraying no fear. "I know who you are. Ibiki Morino, head of T ."
The man didn't blink. He didn't flinch.
Naruto met those eyes, calm but measured. Testing the waters, he offered a weak smirk and said, "I guess I should feel honored, huh? The head of T , dealing with me personally instead of sending some rookie to—"
"No," Ibiki simply said.
Naruto's lips pressed into a thin line, his attempt at banter summarily dismantled.
Without another word, Ibiki reached into his coat and pulled out a walkie-talkie. His gaze never wavered from Naruto's face, as if committing every microexpression to memory. He pressed the button.
"002 is ready for transport," Ibiki said.
Moments later, the door swung open, and two masked shinobi stepped inside. They approached Naruto without a word, one reaching to unfasten his cuffs.
Naruto's eyes flickered between the two, noting their stances, the distance between them, and the door. As soon as the cuffs fell away, he lobbed a sharp jab at the one nearest him.
The blow landed solidly, but the victory was fleeting.
Alarms blared, and the room seemed to flood with reinforcements. Several masked figures rushed in and piled up on Naruto. He twisted and thrashed, muscles straining, but the sheer number of opponents overpowered him. His chakra reserves had long been sealed away by the drugs administered.
Ibiki approached him, crouching just close enough to invade Naruto's personal space. He exhaled a plume of smoke directly into Naruto's face, the bitter sting burning his eyes and nose.
"You're not in charge anymore. You forfeited that right.," Ibiki murmured, his voice devoid of malice, as though he were stating a simple fact. "Understand that."
Unknown Location. Black Cell.
Naruto shuffled awkwardly through the dimly lit hallway, the rough manacles binding his arms and legs restricting his movements to a slow, humiliating waddle. Forced to stoop low, he couldn't fully avoid the "accidents" orchestrated by his handlers—the occasional smack of his head against unseen beams or the biting scrape of sharp edges against his shoulders.
Each collision was met with deliberate indifference, and the guards behind him chuckled softly, their booted feet echoing off the cold marble floor. Naruto's own bare feet were numb from the icy surface.
Ahead of him, Ibiki maintained his composed pace, his broad frame cutting a calm path through the oppressive atmosphere of the hallway. He was entirely unaffected by the groans and rattling chains behind him. Instead, he greeted every passing shinobi with a measured nod or a quiet word.
"How are the kids, Natori?" he asked one as they passed.
"They're doing well, sir, thank you," the shinobi replied.
"Good to hear. You've been putting in long hours. We'll discuss your promotion soon."
It was surreal to Naruto, the way Ibiki balanced his mundane pleasantries with the oppressive gravity of their location. Each shinobi they passed eyed Naruto with fleeting interest before moving on, leaving him to stew in his discomfort.
Suddenly, without breaking stride, Ibiki gestured sharply to the guards.
"Lift him," he ordered, his voice quiet but commanding.
Naruto was yanked upright, his arms and legs still bound tightly, the restraints biting into his skin. A rough hand ripped the blindfold away, and he blinked against the sudden, stark light. The sight before him froze him in place.
The hall opened into a vast underground facility, the gleaming black walls reflecting sterile white light from overhead. The room was cold and orderly, its stillness making it even more unnerving. Rows of heavy iron doors lined the walls, each reinforced with seals and locks, their purposes unmistakable.
Ibiki extended a hand toward the building, his face unreadable but his words tinged with a strange satisfaction. "Welcome to the Black Cells, Prisoner 002. What you've seen above ground—the office, the files, the paperwork—that's all for show. This—" he swept his hand in a broad gesture "—is where our real work happens."
Naruto's eyes darted around the space, taking in every detail as Ibiki continued.
"During the Third War, this facility served its purpose well. Our foes sent their best—men and women trained to endure the worst we could offer. Iwa's explosion corps. Suna's master puppeteers. Every one of them thought they could outlast us." His voice dropped, turning cold as ice. "Every one of them broke. Here, they all begged for death and mercy."
Naruto swallowed hard, refusing to let his expression crack.
Ibiki stopped a few paces ahead, pausing as if caught in memory. When he spoke again, his voice held a faint edge of admiration. "This was also the place where we broke Jinin Akebino. A Swordsman of the Mist. Legendary in his own right. We pulled him from an ambush orchestrated by Jiraiya-sama himself after Akebino slaughtered Duy—who had already surrendered. He came in laughing at us for capturing him."
Ibiki turned slightly, his shadow falling over Naruto. "He left a broken man, confessing to crimes he didn't commit just to escape."
Naruto remained silent, his jaw tight as he processed Ibiki's words – nay subtle threats. A promise of what's to come.
Then came a shift. Ibiki's tone softened, though it remained devoid of overt emotion. "Tell me, Naruto," he said, turning his gaze toward the endless expanse of the Black Cells. "Do you know who designed this fine facility?"
Naruto refused to answer.
Though Ibiki's face remained the picture of stoicism, Naruto could almost hear the phantom smile in his voice.
"Uzushio's Red Hot-Blooded Habanero herself," Ibiki said, taking deliberate steps closer. "Uzumaki Kushina."
Naruto's breath caught in his throat, but he forced himself to show no reaction.
"Yes. Your mother rebuilt this division from nothing after its collapse. She turned this into her 'first love child,' as she used to call it. Her legacy within T propelled her into the stuff of mythos. A shame, really." Ibiki's voice dropped slightly, dangerously calm. "That she gave us this... and you now sully her name."
"Lock him up in the mine," Ibiki ordered. "And no need to pamper him. As the Habanero herself said, even if her own gaki were to end up here – there would be no remorse."
Co-Conspirators?
His wrists were bound by rope to a small hook above him, suspending his weight just enough that his toes barely scraped the ground. Every muscle in his arms and shoulders burned, stretched beyond their limit, while the cold bite of the bindings rubbed his skin raw.
And of course, he was naked as the day he was born.
Ibiki stood before him. He wore a pair of pristine black gloves, their leather creaking faintly as he flexed his fingers. To either side of him stood two shinobi, their faces concealed behind featureless porcelain masks.
"Prisoner 002," he began. "you can tell yourself whatever you like. That you're a hero. A martyr. Someone who stands for something greater than yourself."
He slowly raised his gloved hand, inspecting the fingers as though he were brushing away imaginary dust. Then his eyes flicked back to Naruto.
"But you will break," Ibiki continued. "They all do. The ones who came before you, they thought they were unbreakable too. Legends. Heroes. Warriors trained to withstand anything we could throw at them. But here, they begged. They wept. They broke." He tilted his head slightly. "And you'll be no different."
"MY NAME IS-" Naruto started.
Before he could finish, the two shinobi moved.
The first blow came from the left, a solid cudgel striking his ribs with enough force to knock the air out of his lungs. A second blow followed immediately from the right, cracking against his shoulder. Then another. And another.
Naruto's body jerked and twisted as the strikes rained down on him, the harsh sounds of wood meeting flesh echoing through the cell. He gritted his teeth, biting back a cry. His feet scrabbled for purchase against the smooth floor, but there was no escape, no reprieve.
Ibiki didn't move. He stood there, his hands clasped behind his back, watching the spectacle unfold with the same detached professionalism he carried everywhere.
When the assault finally paused, Naruto was left hanging limply, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth, and his vision swam with pain and exhaustion.
Ibiki stepped closer, his voice conversational. "You see, Prisoner 002, this is the mercy we offer here. A chance to speak. A chance to make this end."
Naruto forced himself to lift his head. "Go to hell," he rasped.
For the first time, Ibiki's lips twitched into the faintest ghost of a smile, cold and humorless. He motioned subtly with one gloved hand. This time around, there were whips laced with rocks and knotted leather.
The blows fell once more, unrelenting. Naruto tried to keep it in as long as he could but when blood started pouring from broken skin, he howled in unbridled agony.
After hanging for painful minutes, his restraints were released and Naruto crumpled onto the floor and hugged his knees. Ibiki sighed before a shinobi placed a collar on his neck and forced him onto all fours.
He then crawled through an icy, pitch-black tunnel, the cold biting at his bare skin with each agonizing shuffle forward. Time lost all meaning; seconds stretched into what felt like hours as his aching limbs barely carried him forward.
When he finally reached the cramped chamber at the end, it was scarcely better. The narrow space left him no choice but to kneel. His body throbbed with pain—arms, legs, shoulders, ribs—everything screamed at him. But even that discomfort eventually dulled, replaced by the numbing haze of exhaustion. His head nodded, flickering in and out of a painful, restless half-sleep.
Investigation
The small apartment looked more like a storage room than a living space. Piles of junk cluttered every corner, accompanied by a mountain of instant ramen cups scattered across countertops, tables, and even the floor.
A team of shinobi systematically tore through every nook and cranny. The Inuzuka clan's tracking dogs led the search, their sensitive noses sniffing through the stale air and tangled mess. Drawers were emptied, cabinets overturned, tatami mats lifted—no detail went unnoticed. Despite the effort, their hands came up empty.
"You've got to be kidding me," Yugito muttered under her breath, glancing at the shinobi around her.
The lead dog handler, a young Inuzuka with a nervous expression, shook his head. "Nothing, Yugito-san. Not even a faint trace of anything incriminating."
"All we've got is junk and an unhealthy obsession with ramen. Call it off. He wouldn't be stupid enough to leave anything here." She said, petulantly kicking a ramen bowl.
The shinobi began filing out, and Yugito activated her comm device. "This is Nii. The sweep's done. No evidence was found at the target's apartment. Returning to report."
Minutes later, Yugito walked into the Intelligence Division headquarters and made her way to the upper levels, where Inoichi Yamanaka waited. She entered his office, a neatly organized space dominated by a sprawling storyboard mounted on the far wall.
"Inoichi," she began, her tone clipped, "we found nothing."
Inoichi, standing before the storyboard with arms crossed, didn't seem surprised. He let out a soft snort, not turning to face her immediately. "I figured as much," he said.
Yugito stepped closer, her eyes scanning the massive display. The board was a meticulous collection of notes, photographs, mission reports, psychological assessments, and testimonies. Strings of red, blue, and yellow thread connected various pieces of information in an intricate web that seemed to map every facet of Naruto's existence.
Her eyebrows lifted as she took in the sheer amount of data. "I've got to hand it to you, boss. You've built quite the dossier here."
"This is everything we have on Uzumaki Naruto. From academy reports to mission details, psychological evaluations, and every credible testimony we could gather." Inoichi said.
"And?" Yugito asked, tilting her head. "What's the conclusion?"
Inoichi shook his head, his expression contemplative. "Remarkably little in the way of motive. By all accounts, Naruto was loyal. Even during those years of hardship—when he was neglected by Hiruzen-sama, ostracized by the villagers, and barely scraping by—his dedication to Konoha never wavered. He endured the worst of it without ever crossing the line."
Yugito frowned, folding her arms. "So what broke him? There had to be something—some moment that made him snap."
"That's the question, isn't it?" Inoichi replied, his gaze lingering on the board.
"Have you considered asking Kakashi Hatake? His Jounin sensei?" Yugito asked and she shook his head.
"The man's been personally interviewed by Ibiki and I. He's clean." Inoichi said and Yugito blew a raspberry at that.
"Shame. I was hoping to return him some scars." She muttered and Inoichi laughed at that.
Yugito's eyes darted to a particular cluster of notes, focused on Naruto's time at the academy. Her brow furrowed. "You know... there's not much about friends here." She pointed to the section. "It says he failed the academy three times. How does a kid like that even become a ninja? Most get permanently disqualified after 3 attempts."
Inoichi rifled through a folder on the nearby desk, his fingers deftly sorting through its contents. He stopped at a particular sheet, scanned it, and then turned to Yugito. "Because of Umino Iruka."
Yugito raised an eyebrow.
"Umino Iruka was the one who vouched for Naruto after his third failure. He testified to Naruto's potential and pushed for him to graduate despite the odds," Inoichi explained. "He was... the closest thing Naruto had to a stable authority figure in those years."
A thoughtful look crossed Yugito's face, and she tapped her chin. "Then maybe it's time to ask Iruka some questions. If anyone can shed light on Naruto's mindset during that time, it'll be him."
Inoichi nodded
"Agreed. Bring me Umino." He darkly muttered.
Report
Tsunade slouched in her chair, her blond hair disheveled and dark circles under her eyes betraying her exhaustion. A half-empty sake cup rested in her hand, her only comfort in the midst of chaos. Across the desk, Shizune stood upright, a folder in her hands, her face drawn with worry.
"The neurotoxin Naruto used," Shizune began, "is... well, let's just say it's extraordinary."
Tsunade's eyebrows arched slightly, but she motioned for Shizune to continue.
"It's a synthetic compound designed to attack specific neuroreceptors while bypassing standard immune responses. It uses chirally selective molecules, bonded with halogenated organic structures that maximize permeability through cell membranes."
Tsunade narrowed her eyes. "You're saying it's tailored at the molecular level?"
Shizune nodded grimly. "Exactly. It operates on a dual-phase activation, where secondary enzymes—specific to individuals with advanced chakra systems—trigger latent toxins. Breaking it down required computational simulations and molecular resonance scans. Even then, we had to isolate its base components with cryogenic spectroscopy to understand its synthesis pathways."
Shizune paused before adding, "But Hokage-sama, the creation of something like this isn't just about expertise. The sheer scale of resources required—a laboratory, rare reagents, and logistical infrastructure—would rival a nation's backing. Naruto couldn't possibly have had access to those on his own."
Tsunade leaned forward, the cup of sake forgotten on the desk. "Agreed. Whoever was behind this wasn't working with scraps or in the shadows. They had support on a massive scale." She locked eyes with Inoichi. "Naruto doesn't have the expertise to create something like this."
Inoichi nodded in agreement. "Based on his psyche profile and life history, it's safe to say he doesn't possess the scientific rigor or training for something of this complexity. I even reviewed the classified records to confirm—he has no formal or informal healer training."
Tsunade frowned, her fingers tapping against the desk. "What about black ops?" she asked. "Could he have been trained off the books?"
Inoichi shook his head. "I forced everyone to talk—every single one. Naruto isn't listed anywhere, not even tangentially. There's no record of him receiving medical or scientific training, officially or otherwise."
Tsunade leaned back, rubbing her temples as if to fight off the pounding headache forming there. Her mind raced, trying to make sense of the puzzle. "And the warrant against Umino Iruka?"
At this, Inoichi straightened, a hint of unease creeping into his voice. "Iruka willingly turned himself in without resistance. No fuss, no struggle. Ibiki questioned him, though..."
Tsunade's frown deepened. "Ibiki? I told you to be careful with him."
Inoichi held up his hands defensively. "It was civil, Hokage-sama. Umino-san wasn't harmed." He hesitated, then sighed. "But... he's not in a good place. Despondent. Barely spoke during questioning. He didn't offer anything particularly helpful."
Tsunade exhaled in frustration. "Any leads at all?"
Inoichi nodded, though reluctantly. "Iruka did mention one thing—Naruto had a habit of breaking into the Forest of Death. He didn't say much else, but it might be worth investigating. I will point out that this is where shinobi Mizuki met his untimely demise at Naruto's hands."
"The Forest of Death," Tsunade murmured,. She locked eyes with Inoichi. "You think he might've used it to hide something?"
"It's possible," Inoichi replied. "The area's vast and dangerous, making it an ideal place to stash evidence or set up a clandestine workspace. But we'll need your clearance to proceed."
Tsunade reached into her desk drawer and pulled out a large iron key, its surface engraved with seals. She handed it to Inoichi. "You have my permission. Be thorough."
He accepted it with a small bow. "Understood."
Raid
The sound of metal clanking and straps being tightened filled the air as shinobi armed themselves for a possible raid.
Inoichi stood in the command center back at the village, his attention focused intently on the bodycam footage from the teams' vantage points. The crisp, rapid transmission from the field was accompanied by the distant hum of electronic equipment, the quiet beeps of data being logged, and the murmurs of squad leaders communicating amongst themselves.
"Coordinates have been marked," Yugito said firmly. "We expect Uzumaki's lair to be hidden around here. Stick together, and remember: silence is key. Do not disturb the local fauna." She paused briefly to make eye contact with each team leader. "Maintain strict roll-call after every ten minutes—understand?"
"Hai, Captain!" the squad leaders echoed.
Yugito raised her hand, signaling the team to begin their march deeper into the forest.
At first, the mission seemed unremarkable. They reached the designated location with nothing out of the ordinary. No traps, no surprises. Just the oppressive quiet of the forest. But then, just as the scouts were about to report back, Inoichi watched with a furrowed brow as the Aburame insects stationed with the teams began to behave erratically.
"Report," Inoichi ordered.
"Mass genjutsu," came the terse reply from Kuenai Yuhii. "It's not handling this many higher-level shinobi... it's straining under the pressure."
"Tear it down. We won't waste any more time." Yugito said.
On the screen, Inoichi saw the shinobi converge, breaking the illusion as if it were nothing. The Aburame bugs had begun to regroup, the forest's whispers giving way to the sound of barking—a sudden, sharp, and alert noise—from the Inuzuka dogs ahead.
Yugito snapped a command to the Inuzuka handlers, and the dogs were set loose. They darted forward, noses twitching as they sniffed out whatever it was that the humans couldn't yet see. The squad followed carefully behind. Soon enough, the hounds' noses led them to an enormous tree trunk protruding from the earth, stretching impossibly high. Roots wound thickly across the forest floor, so deeply embedded in the dirt that they looked like veins of the earth itself.
The dogs began to bark louder, agitated by something they had uncovered. A hatch—an unmistakable metal door—was embedded beneath the tangled roots, its edges obscured by the natural world.
The explosive chakra paper was swiftly affixed to the door, and with a swift motion from Yugito, the command was given to detonate.
Inoichi winced at the sound that echoed through the forest, the massive explosion rocking the very trees. His eyes followed the live footage with unnerving calm as Yugito's team filed into the breach, quickly establishing a perimeter before venturing further.
Inside the hollowed space behind the hatch, they found something unexpected. A lab—pristine, immaculate, but suspiciously functional. The walls and countertops gleamed with technology, high-end equipment scattered across the room.
Yet, scattered throughout the sterile surroundings were empty ramen cups.
"At least we know for sure, Naruto was here," she drily muttered. "Uzumaki had far deeper secrets than the village anticipated."
"Captain, there's another anomaly." A captain said.
"Oh?" Yugito asked.
"There's another door," he reported, pointing to a thick, reinforced slab of material at the far end of the room. Seals and strange technology surrounded it, imbuing it with a reinforced presence. It was evident that this door was no ordinary hatch—it was fortified beyond their capacity to handle.
Yugito stared at the door with a grim look before phoning in. "Inoichi, you seeing this?"
Inoichi's voice replied a moment later. "I see it. I'm in contact with Naara Clan technicians now. They'll be on their way soon."
Before Yugito could offer her next command, an urgent report came through. "Captain! We're under attack. Giant spiders—huge, massive—attacking from all directions! Local fauna's coming alive!"
Yugito let out a tired sigh. "Seriously? I told them not to disturb the local fauna."
Inoichi chuckled, though it was mostly hollow. "You're not the first to be ambushed by oversized creatures in the Forest of Death, Yugito. Hang tight. We're sending a jounin team to establish a secure perimeter."
Yugito gritted her teeth and glanced at the door before she answered. "Understood. Keep in touch."
Brainstorming
Ibiki strode into the room carrying two large steaming mugs in each hand.
"One chai latte for you, spoiled prince," Ibiki said
"Don't even start, Ibiki," he muttered, taking the mug from him but avoiding eye contact.
Ibiki only chuckled and set his own mug down before taking a seat across from Inoichi. The silence that followed wasn't uncomfortable—it was typical for them. Two men entrenched in the murky world of intelligence, always operating in the shadows. The soft clink of the glass mugs was the only sound for a long moment before Ibiki spoke again.
"So, any luck with the gate?" he asked.
Inoichi sighed, leaning back in his chair and rubbing a hand over his temple. "Not yet. The damn thing's reinforced with technology we can't identify yet. We're still waiting on the Naara Clan techs to update us. It'll take some time."
"And the crime scene?"
"We're now more sure than ever that Uzumaki wasn't working alone. Several of the Hokage's bodyguards and the tower's perimeter were attacked and neutralized. Whoever did this was prepared for a full-on assault." Inoichi said.
"The kid's a maestro with shadow clones and the ability to maintain them. Especially with what's locked in his gut." Ibiki said.
"Against elite bodyguards? Not even he could do that." Inocihi scowled at the notion.
He hesitated for a moment, his thoughts running. "The only reason the Hokage survived was because of her own damn considerable medical chakra. The slug's quick thinking helped too, and it's lucky Shizune triggered the secondary alarm after the primary one failed."
"Fuck." Ibiki said.
"Make no mistake about it, old friend. This was an act of war." Inocihi said. "If Tenzo hadn't arrived with reinforcements…we'd be having this conversation near Iwa and Kumo's borders."
Ibiki raised his glass in acknowledgment. "All hail Tenzo,"
"Kiss ass." Inoichi shot and grinned.
"What?," Ibiki smirked. "I am merely getting down with the program here. All the metrics point toward him being the one the villagers expect to rise up and take the chair."
Inoichi chuckled, though it lacked humor. "Yeah, well, you'll be long retired by then,"
"Maybe. Maybe not." Ibiki said.
But the lighthearted moment was cut short by the abrupt chiming of two intercom alerts, a sharp static hum that echoed through the office, both men's attention snapping instantly to the screens in front of them.
First, a direct, urgent message came from Yugito. Inoichi's brows furrowed as he quickly flipped on the live feed. "Yugito, what's going—"
But nothing happened. The comm screen remained stubbornly frozen.
"Damn it," Inoichi muttered, tapping at the console. "We're getting interference. There's something jamming the signal." His fingers flew across the keys, trying to restore the connection.
"Yugito? Can you hear me?" he pressed again. Nothing but static filled his ears in response.
"Yugito!" came an even more urgent command through the speakers. "I need you to come here. Immediately."
Inoichi straightened, trying to ignore the growing sense of unease creeping down his spine.
"Go," Ibiki said, not waiting for further explanation. "We've got to help her before whatever this is escalates further."
But just as Inoichi started to leave, the comms pinged again—this time, it was a new name.
"Sir!" His secretary chimed in. "A woman by the name of Ayame wishes to speak with you. She says it's urgent and she has info about the Uzumaki case."
"Do we have any intel on her?" Inoichi asked and his staff remained mum.
"No time for that now. I'll take care of Ayame." Ibiki said. "Go now, Yugito needs your help."
Ayame
The dim interrogation room was thick with silence, save for the faint sound of Ayame's irregular breathing. She sat in the center, her body stiff, every movement betraying her discomfort. A sudden twitch in her eye. The briefest tremor in her hands. It seemed like she was flinching away from an invisible pain.
"She's clean," the lieutenant reported, offering nothing more than a clipped summary.
His gaze sharpened as he strode towards the table, his boots making no sound on the cold floor. He stopped just out of Ayame's reach and fixed his gaze on her with an unsettling calm.
"I'm Ibiki Morino," he introduced himself. "You've probably heard of me."
Ayame struggled to lift her head, her eyes swimming with distress. Her lips quivered as if to speak, but something seemed to block her. She tried to open her mouth, but the words wouldn't come.
"I advise you not to waste my time. Your cooperation could save you a lot of pain." Ibiki frowned.
But Ayame just continued to flinch, as though the mere thought of speaking caused her bodily pain. She shuddered and gasped for air as if the words were clawing at her throat.
"I—village—danger," she stuttered, her breath coming ragged, like she had trouble breathing from something heavy weighing down her chest.
Ibiki's eyes narrowed. This wasn't typical. He leaned forward, the sharpness of his tone cutting through the stagnant air. "Tell me everything you know, Ayame. Start from the beginning."
Ayame whimpered, her body quivering violently as if tortured by an unseen force. Her skin flushed suddenly with an alarming heat. Ibiki's instincts flared—poison?
Without hesitation, he leaned back and called for a medical shinobi.
Just as he spoke, Ayame's lips trembled again, and with great effort, she managed to rasp something through clenched teeth.
"F—father…"
The moment the words left her mouth, her teeth locked. Ayame gasped, her face contorted in agony. Blood appeared, trickling from her lips as she bit down on her own flesh. She gripped her throat like she couldn't breathe. Her eyes bulged and her skin flushed with a dark tint—a spreading, unnatural blackness creeping from her neck.
"Ayame," Ibiki barked, standing up fully now, the calm drained from his voice. "No! Speak to me—"
But it was too late.
Her body went rigid, skin darkening as the necrotic spread, and before the medic could rush in, Ayame's body lurched forward, slumping in her chair.
The medical shinobi barely had time to register the severity before their hands were covered in blood as they tried to check her pulse. It didn't matter.
She was dead.
"Damn it!" Ibiki yelled.
Ibiki mechanically turned his attention to the torn scrap of paper Ayame had been holding—a picture. It had fallen from her trembling hand and now sat discarded in her lap, stained with her blood.
Numbly, he plucked it from her fingers, turning it over. The picture itself had been crumpled in Ayame's grasp but was still visible. He saw a young Uzumaki Naruto grinning beside Hyuga Neji. The two were arm in arm, standing close—brothers, even. There was a 3rd figure but it was covered by Ayame's blood.
Behind them, someone stood proud, a figure whose smile suggested a deeper degree of connection. They looked like a family.
He turned the picture over and only a single word was written.
Teuchi.
A low, almost imperceptible hum filled the air. It was an unnatural sound, like the reverberation of some terrible force hidden beneath the surface. His steps faltered for a moment as his instincts screamed at him—something was wrong.
The medic, still standing beside Ayame's slumped body, froze in place, eyes wide with horror. Before they could react, the very air in the room seemed to change—thickening with an almost palpable weight.
Then it happened.
Ayame's body jerked violently, her skin instantly swelling as though under immense pressure.
No one had time to scream, let alone act. From Ayame's mouth, a cloud of dark, spore-like particles erupted—dense, virulent spores—shimmering in the light like deadly mists.
The deadly cloud expanded outward, enveloping everything within reach. The spores—deliberately placed to cause a terrible fate—began to fall, drenching the room in a silent, destructive rain.
Ibiki saw it in an instant. His lungs drew in the contaminated air as his body reflexively coughed violently. His vision spun as the poison infiltrated his system.
Every cell in his body screamed in alarm. The toxins spread with horrifying precision, corroding his insides as his legs buckled beneath him. His senses were flooded by a searing ache.
"Damn it—" Ibiki hissed, collapsing to his knees in a grimy heap on the floor. His breath rasped painfully, his vision dimming as his strength drained from him.
Forest
"It's good you came now, Inoichi," she said.
Without a word, she gestured toward the breach that had already been made in the strange sealed door. With no need for further encouragement, Inoichi followed.
When they entered the interior chamber, the reality struck with brutal force.
A horrible scene sprawled out before them. Inoichi's breath hitched in his throat. There was something deeply wrong here—a grotesque macabre assembly of machinery and body, barely recognizable as human anymore.
There was Mizuki.
Or what was supposed to be Mizuki.
His body was a twisted, nightmare mockery of life—his skin stretched and spread in horrifying patterns, adhered like a grotesque canvas to the walls of the chamber. His chest rose and fell faintly with every beat of his heart, each pulse too slow, too ragged to be anything but unnatural. His eyes... his eyes twitched erratically, moving as though something was scrambling beneath the surface of his skull.
But the most gruesome sight was the series of grotesque biotech devices twisted and tethered around him, pumping life-sustaining fluids into him, cables running into every visible hole in his body. Inoichi could feel the sharp sting of horror but fought to maintain his composure. This was no ordinary research or even punishment. This was something much worse—an act of perversion.
Mizuki w And the word he kept repeating... ramen? Demon... boy... ramen?
It was the only sound in the air, the only consistent noise in the otherwise silent, methodical hum of equipment that sustained him as some twisted mockery of life. Each word was whispered between spasms of tortured breath, too rhythmical to be random.
He was alive... but barely.
Black Cell
He wasn't sure how long he'd been there when the sharp screech of metal jarred him awake. A shutter at the edge of the chamber slid open, flooding the cramped space with harsh light. The silhouette of a guard filled the gap, and Naruto squinted as a bright torchlight bore into his eyes.
"Get up, Prisoner 002!" barked the guard, his voice sharp and commanding.
Naruto groaned, his stiff limbs refusing to cooperate. "Shut... up..." he muttered, barely audible.
The guard didn't take kindly to his defiance. Without hesitation, a crackling arc of ration chakra coursed through Naruto's body. His muscles seized, and a strangled cry escaped his lips as pain tore through him.
"Get. Up." The guard's tone brooked no argument.
Naruto, gasping for breath, shakily obeyed. Hands suddenly gripped his hair, yanking him to his feet. The world swam around him as he was dragged forward, stumbling and half-limping until he was thrown roughly to his knees.
Blinking through the pain and disorientation, Naruto's eyes adjusted to his surroundings. In front of him, seated languidly in a chair, was a woman he recognized immediately: Anko Mitarashi. Her violet hair and playful smirk hadn't changed, but there was a sharpness in her smile that reminded Naruto of his predicament.
"Well, well," Anko drawled, crossing one leg over the other. "We meet again, 002. Though, I'll admit—this is a lot different than how I thought we'd cross paths."
Naruto grunted, glaring at her through half-lidded eyes.
Anko pouted theatrically. "No Good morning, Anko-san? Come on, I even got the time for you—it's 9 A.M." She gestured dramatically to an imaginary clock. "I'd say rise and shine, but, well..." She chuckled softly, her voice trailing off.
Naruto remained silent, his breathing labored.
"Fine. Let's skip the pleasantries, then," she said with a sigh. "Here's the deal: Ibiki is on leave, which means you get me today. I'm what you'd call your 'good cop.'" She leaned for Naruto and snorted weakly, refusing to give her the satisfaction of a response.
"Now," Anko said, her voice turning sharp, "why don't we start with something simple? Tell me about the night of July 13th. What were you doing?"
Naruto shifted uncomfortably, his body too sore to even attempt sitting up straight. "I've got... nothing to say to you," he muttered.
Anko tilted her head, her lips forming a mock pout. "Come on, 002. You're making this really hard on me. I'm trying to be nice here! Your level of comfort depends entirely on how cooperative you decide to be."
Naruto scoffed, his silence more pointed this time.
Her smirk faded slightly. "Fine, we'll do this another way." She leaned back, her tone turning cold. "We know you weren't working alone, 002. The evidence is there—you had co-conspirators. Care to name them?"
Naruto's lips twitched in the faintest hint of amusement. "You don't know a damn thing," he said.
"Oh?" Anko arched a brow, her smirk returning. "Funny. You seem pretty confident for someone in your position. Then again... it always did strike me as odd that you were the last man standing after the Uchiha Satsuki retrieval mission." She paused, letting the words hang in the air. "Did Orochimaru have something to do with that, 002?"
Naruto's expression darkened. "My name is—" he began, snarling.
Anko raised a hand, and lightning surged through his body once again, cutting him off mid-sentence. He writhed against the electricity, a guttural growl escaping his clenched teeth before it subsided.
"002," she said sharply. "Here's how this works—you answer my questions, or we keep doing this." She tapped a finger against the armrest of her chair. "So let me ask again: what were you doing the night of July 13th?"
Naruto remained silent.
Take him to the standing cells. No sleep." She glanced at Naruto one last time, her expression cold. "Maybe after a few more days, you'll decide to cooperate."
Fin
Author Notes: A new project I wanted to work on. Let me know your thoughts on it. Thanks! Don't forget to review!