Chapter XVII: The Osore
Hikari sighs quietly to himself as he lowers himself onto the cold stone floor, his back resting against the hollow wall in the large, dimly lit gathering area of the cave. The shadows cast by the flickering torches around him seem to stretch endlessly, much like the weight of the decisions weighing on his mind. He doesn't bother to move, letting the silence embrace him, a brief respite from the tension of the world outside.
Footsteps break the quiet, and a figure steps into view, emerging from the darkness. Another man. He wears the same dark, tattered cloak that Hikari does, the heavy fabric swaying slightly as he moves forward. His presence is unmistakable, and his aura of calculated calm fills the space around him.
The man's shoulder-length green hair falls over his left eye, masking part of his face, but his eyes—eyes the same shade of green—glow faintly in the dim light. His pale skin catches what little light there is, making it seem almost ethereal, but there's something unsettling in the way it gleams, like a warning.
Hikari looks up briefly, meeting the other man's gaze before lowering his head again, his posture relaxed, but his mind alert.
"Do you need anything, Sebbech?" Hikari asks, his voice soft but tinged with a quiet edge, a reminder of the tension that lingers in the air.
The man named Sebbech smiles lightly, the expression more of a smirk than anything resembling genuine warmth. His eyes narrow slightly, and he presses his fingers together, his stance calm but predatory.
"Hide just relayed to me... what you did to Konan," Sebbech begins, his voice calm, but there's an underlying sharpness to it that makes Hikari's muscles tense. "Now answer me this..."
Without another word, Sebbech steps closer, his movements quick and fluid. In an instant, he grabs Hikari by the collar of his unzipped cloak, pulling him upward with a force that is both unexpected and unnerving. The cold gleam in Sebbech's green eyes sharpens as he grits his teeth.
"Was it absolutely fucking necessary for you to finish her off?" he demands, his voice thick with barely contained anger, his grip tightening as if trying to choke out an answer.
Hikari's expression doesn't change, though his pulse quickens slightly. His eyes remain closed, a mask of calmness despite the sudden aggression. He's not surprised. What I did back there doesn't concern you, he thinks, his mind moving swiftly to block out the emotion in Sebbech's words. You, of all people, should understand the cruelty of this life we've chosen.
Sebbech squints at Hikari, his narrowed gaze piercing through the dim light of the cave. The air between them crackles with tension, a silent understanding that things are about to escalate even further. He stares at Hikari with a mixture of annoyance and something darker, as if trying to provoke a reaction.
"You're just going to ignore me?" Sebbech growls, his voice thick with frustration. He sneers, a sharp edge to his words. "Have it your way, then."
Without giving Hikari any more time to respond, Sebbech steps back, his movements calculated and deliberate. He shifts his weight onto his back foot, then, in an instant, his fist flies forward, driven by pure anger. It crashes into Hikari's face with a sickening thud. The impact echoes through the cave, and the force of it sends a jolt through Hikari's body.
But Hikari is quick. With a fluid motion, he drops to the ground, bending his knees and sinking lower. Before Sebbech can react, Hikari's left leg swings forward in a swift arc, the heel of his foot connecting squarely with Sebbech's jaw. The sharp crack of the impact reverberates through the space, and Sebbech's head snaps back, his teeth grinding in anger.
Sebbech's fist, now slick with blood, rests on Hikari's face, but Hikari's foot remains planted firmly on Sebbech's. The pressure builds between them, the heat of their breaths mingling in the air as their eyes lock. Hikari's expression remains eerily blank, but Sebbech's eyes flare with fury, his grip tightening around the collar of Hikari's cloak, his knuckles white from the force.
The two men hold each other's gaze, each trying to outlast the other in a silent struggle of dominance. Time seems to stretch, the world around them fading into the background as their bodies stay frozen in place, each moment of tension heavier than the last.
"Both of you, just stop," a calm, but firm new feminine voice rings through the tension-filled air. The words cut through the silence like a blade, interrupting the standoff between the two men. "We just lost Konan and Nagato. The remaining five of us don't need to be killing each other off. We still have much to accomplish for Lord Gyatsō."
Before either of them can respond, a woman steps forward from the shadows, emerging into the flickering light. Her presence commands attention immediately. She is tall and poised, her every movement deliberate, as if she carries an unspoken weight. Her long, vibrant orange hair cascades down her back, the color like a fiery river that contrasts sharply against the dark surroundings of the cave.
Unlike the others, her cloak isn't fully drawn up—only wrapped loosely around her waist, leaving her upper body exposed. Her choice of attire is practical but striking. A form-fitting pink vest with long sleeves hugs her figure, the soft fabric contrasting with the hard edge of her stance. The rest of her outfit consists of dark pants, tucked neatly into black heels that click quietly with every step. As she raises her head to look at her bickering allies, her forehead protector reflects a tiny bit of light. Some strange insignia was embedded in the metal. Those who could read Japanese kanji would understand the symbol read "暗" (Dark). The woman's overall look speaks of someone who values both freedom of movement and a certain level of aesthetic.
Her light blue eyes, sharp and focused, settle on Hikari first, as though gauging him from head to toe, assessing the situation with a level of scrutiny. She stands with one hand resting firmly on her hip, the other loosely hanging at her side. There's a faint tension in the way her pink lips press together, a subtle sign that she's holding back something—perhaps irritation, perhaps something more dangerous.
Hikari, you blasphemous piece of shit, the orange-haired kunoichi thinks, her nails starting to dig into her hip angrily. If you don't get your filthy hands away from God...I'll rip your fucking head off!
Her jaw tightens slightly, and she grits her teeth, an indication that she doesn't approve of the scene unfolding before her. Yet, despite the simmering frustration in her expression, her voice remains even, her tone one of quiet authority.
"Enough," she mutters under her breath, but loud enough for both men to hear. The weight of her presence seems to hang in the air, heavy but not oppressive, a reminder that their quarrel isn't just their own. There's a faint, almost imperceptible shift in the atmosphere as she stands there, ready to intervene, if necessary.
A few moments later, Sebbech springs from his position, landing a few feet away from the two other Osore members. He wipes his bruised cheek with the back of his hand, the motion exaggerated as he adopts a mock-somber expression, playing the role of a wounded man.
"Huh..." Sebbech mutters, his voice laced with feigned disappointment. "Seems like this always happens, Seiko. My apologies. You too, Sebbech." He directs the last bit towards the other man, his voice dripping with sarcastic sincerity.
Hikari crosses his arms, his posture casual yet his eyes hard. He chuckles darkly, a hollow sound that echoes in the quiet space. "It's quite alright, Sebbech," he says, his tone dripping with mock amusement. "The only thing I care about-"
Before Hikari can finish his sentence, a sudden presence materializes in front of him. A male, dressed in the Osore cloak like the others, stands close, his movements smooth. He places a hand on Hikari's shoulder, the touch light but firm, a subtle assertion of his own authority. The young male's face seems considerably younger than the others, a stark contrast to their more hardened, battle-worn appearances.
His black hair falls messily across his face, hiding his eyes, but he seems unbothered by the obscured view. A faint smirk curls at the edges of his lips, as if amused by something only he understands. His voice is calm but carries an unmistakable confidence, the kind born from knowing one's place within the hierarchy.
"Seiko," the teenager begins, slightly turning his head to the woman in question. His tone is almost too casual for the weight of his words. "You just said that we five are all still of use to Lord Gyatsō. But the truth is," he pauses, his smirk widening just slightly, "you all know that he values me the most. He sees me as his very own son. Don't forget the eyes."
In one smooth motion, the boy sweeps his hair away from his face, revealing his strange eyes. Hikari's expression shifts subtly as he sees the irises—crimson red, almost glowing, with two black lines intersecting over them to form a perfect cross. The visual jutsu is unmistakable, the unique design reminding Hikari of something like the Sharingan or the Rinnegan. The dark, intimidating glare in the boy's eyes sends a shiver through the air, an unspoken reminder of the boy's favored status, and of the deadly potential locked within his gaze.
Hikari lets out another deep sigh, the frustration clear in his posture as a line of blood slowly trickles down his injured nose, staining his lips as it drips. His blue eyes narrow, a faint scowl tugging at his features.
"Zuko," Hikari mutters, his voice steady but laced with warning. "I'm fully aware of your Shaolin, but don't go amusing yourself like this."
Zuko's smile widens, his eyes gleaming with an almost playful malice. He locks his gaze with Hikari's, his dark, almost predatory smirk never faltering. The black crosses marking his eyes begin to spin slowly, each rotation sending a wave of unsettling energy into the air around them.
"You should speak to me with a little more respect, Hikari," Zuko says, his tone calm, but filled with an edge of authority. "As we both know, I am the strongest Osore member, second only to Lord Gyatsō himself." His smirk grows, curling at the corners of his lips as he takes a step closer to Hikari. "If I felt the need to, I could end your life with just this."
Without another word, Zuko unzips the top of his cloak, revealing the pale skin of his neck. As the fabric falls open, a dark, ominous mark catches Hikari's eye—a black cross etched into the side of Zuko's neck. The symbol pulses with an eerie energy before it begins to glow a bright, fiery red-orange. The mark then spreads rapidly, dark veins of the same color radiating out across his skin, twisting and stretching in jagged lines as if alive.
Hikari's breath hitches, his heart racing as he begins to feel the overwhelming pressure of Zuko's chakra swirling around them. Sweat beads on Hikari's forehead as he feels the sheer power radiating from the teenager. Zuko's smirk only deepens in response, and his right eye flicker with even more intensity. The single black cross in his eye is joined by four smaller diagonal lines appearing on his iris. The new lines slowly grow in length, finally intersecting to form a perfect X. No longer a bright crimson, the red-orange iris glows with an ominous fire.
"And... with this Mūgetsu Shaolin," Zuko continues, his voice now taking on a dangerously demonic tone, "I have finally surpassed that fool Gyatsō."
As the mysterious boy's words hang in the air, the pressure intensifies, suffocating and overwhelming. But before Hikari can react, Sebbech—who has been silently watching—lifts his arm with a sudden and purposeful motion. The air shifts again, and before anyone can fully process what's happening, Zuko chokes, his body beginning to levitate off the ground. He struggles against the invisible force pulling him upward, his smirk quickly faltering as the grip tightens around him.
Sebbech's expression darkens, his green hair framing his face as his eyes burn with fury. He watches Zuko with an expression of disdain, his anger bubbling to the surface, but he doesn't yet release his hold.
"Have you lost your mind, Zuko Taisega?" Sebbech hisses, his voice sharp and full of venom. He glares at the boy, his eyes narrowed, the fury in his voice unmistakable. "Never compare your power to Lord Gyatsō's. If you ever do that again, I'll put an end to your short life."
Zuko locks eyes with him, gritting his teeth, his jaw clenched in frustration.
Damn it... Zuko thinks to himself. It seems that Mirage took control of me for a second. I can't be careless trying to tap into this curse mark's power.
His breathing steadying, Zuko focuses, and the dark energy swirling in his veins begins to retract. The marks on his skin slowly retreat, vanishing back into the cross seal on his neck. Sebbech, observing the change, smiles once more, a knowing grin as he releases his grip on Zuko's body.
Zuko closes his eyes, bowing his head slightly in apology. "Sorry about that," he mutters. "My true purpose for coming here... is to inform you all that we're to immediately relocate to the northern hideout. Lord Gyatsō's orders. Orochimaru is already waiting for us there."
Hikari, Sebbech, and Seiko all nod in acknowledgment, their faces expressionless, before each of them quietly exits the room. Zuko stands alone, the stillness of the room pressing down on him. His gaze falls to the floor, a quiet smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
Well, I guess Konan was never meant to see the fruits of our labour. The same goes for Nagato. Truth is, I never trusted those Akatsuki defectors to begin with.
Zuko's smile fades as he looks up again, his eyes burning with renewed resolve. His Shaolin flares, the crimson glow blinding in its intensity, a reflection of his rising power.
But the last five of us? We're the mightiest of the Dark, the best weapons at Lord Gyatsō's disposal. Hidden Leaf... Sand... Stone... Mist... and Cloud. Prepare yourselves. The endless suffering you've inflicted on the world with your accursed ninja system is about to come to an end.
With a sudden movement, Zuko vanishes from the room, disappearing into the shadows.
Almost immediately after, Gyatsō appears, his presence filling the space like a heavy fog. He glances briefly at Itachi's still unconscious form, taking in the sight of the Uchiha's stillness. Gyatsō calmly places Tobi's mask back onto his face, the familiar, emotionless expression instantly returning.
He walks over to Itachi and, without a second thought, wraps chakra-suppressing rope around the Uchiha's body, ensuring there is no chance of escape or resistance. Gyatsō steps back, his eyes narrowing slightly as he stares at the prone form of his future vessel.
Crossing his arms over his chest, he scans the room and then turns his gaze back to Itachi, his voice low but firm. "You better wake up soon, Itachi. The entire world is waiting. The final act of the ninja world..."
A small smirk dances at the edge of Gyatsō's lips as he waits, eyes lingering on the Uchiha's unmoving form.