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Chapter 13
is this the life you wanted? it's only your soul that you're haunting
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A/N: Happy New Year, everyone! :)
Thank you for reading, liking, and following my story. Here's to many more chapters and a fantastic year ahead. On that note: New Year = New Character!
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64年7月11日
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Daiki kneels in front of the portrait of Lord Byakuren, hung above his butsudan. He was old, his great-grandfather. Almost seventy when he died on that battlefield during the First Great War, killed by that bastard Senju Hashirama, supposed God of Shinobi. The portrait shows him at his inauguration, after four years of bloody conquest, unification of the many clans and tribes of the Land of Water into one singular power, just as the Senju and Uchiha had done in the Land of Fire.
Lord Byakuren stands proud in his portrait. Despite his age, long greying hair, and a blind eye— a nasty scar ran through his right, which he suffered during his great conquest— he is still nearly at his prime in the painting, much like Lord Third Sarutobi; though that man is, of course, younger. He dressed modestly, despite his position. Grandfather Hiromitsu once told him that Lord Byakuren possessed great power, far greater than Yūji, his lord father, or even Grandfather Hiromitsu himself."
According to Grandfather Hiromitsu, Lord Byakuren was the strongest of all Mizukage. Of all kage, he was second only to Senju Hashirama.
You disgrace your ancestors.
Daiki shakes his head, then bows. He needs to pay proper respects— to, at least, not add more disgrace to what he has already caused. Losing to a katō not once but twice. A fight he instigated in the first place, back when he lashed out and the bastard happened to bear the brunt of his ire.
He needs to defeat Sanbokan. Not just for revenge of the humiliation he suffered but to prove he is worthy of his name.
Of his legacy.
That he is a worthy heir. A shinobi able to command respect by merely being present, cunning in his strategies, and ruthless on the battlefields, showing no mercy to his enemies. He will make his clan great again— show everyone why it was them who started the conquest. Not the Hōzuki, not the Setoka, and not the Hijiki.
The Moyashi.
It was Moyashi Byakuren who emerged from the turbulent Warring States Era. It was Moyashi Byakuren who saw the threat of a combined Uchiha and Senju clans force. Especially, when they allied with the Aburame, Akimichi, and Hyūga— not to mention the alliance with the dreaded Uzumaki.
It was Moyashi Byakuren who saw the danger and did something about it.
Lord Byakuren started with alliances. Their clan was already allied with the Hōzuki and Setoka, and the Hōzuki in turn were allied with the Hijiki. Thus, the Alliance was formed.
Next, came the bloodier bits. The rest of the clan who did not see the threat, did not see the danger that Konoha posed, who did not see reason. The clans who needed to be conquered. They started with skirmishes, then diplomacy, talked the Hoshigaki, Kinkan, Iyokan, Satsuma, Kawachi, and Yubari clans into seeing things as they were, and greatly increased their forces.
Lord Byakuren showed his mercy until then, proved his wisdom, but the other dozens of clans needed a different method of convincing.
Which was when Lord Byakuren fought the first proper battle of the conquest— the Battle of Koganuma. It happened shortly after Sunagakure and Kumogakure were founded in year one; only Sunagakure and Kirigakure remained scattered. Of the Big Five, at least. The minor countries formed much later.
The opposing clans of that first battle— Kabocha, Myoga, Komatsuna, and Yamaimo— refused to join the Alliance, even after days of diplomacy and meetings. They scoffed at Lord Byakuren's warnings, seeing him as a relic of the Warring States Era, too old and fragile to pose a real threat.
They were wrong.
The battle began in the early hours, under cover of mist and surprise, as was his way. His forces, despite being outnumbered, struck without mercy and with an unrelenting ferocity. The enemy's arrogance was their undoing. Lord Byakuren's mastery of Water Release wasn't just powerful, it was terrifying. They say Senju Tobirama was the greatest Water Release user to ever exist, but clearly, they never met Lord Byakuren. Grandfather Hiromitsu once told Daiki how the sea itself obeyed Byakuren, how waves rose as walls to trap the enemy, leaving them to drown or be slaughtered. When the enemy tried to regroup inland, Byakuren led the charge personally, his katana carving a path through the heart of their forces.
They begged for mercy. He gave them none.
"Mercy is for allies," Lord Byakuren said that day. "For those who see reason. For the strong. You are none of these."
By the time the sun stood at its zenith, four clans were no more, their names reduced to nothing but footnotes of history. Those who survived bent the knee, swearing loyalty to the Alliance. It was the first of a long, long line of battles, each as bloody as the last. The conquest wasn't just war— it was a lesson.
Proof that the Moyashi were the strongest, the most cunning, and the most ruthless in the Land of Water.
And Daiki? He is supposed to inherit this legacy.
He swallows hard, his fists clenching at his sides.
How can he face Lord Byakuren's legacy— how can he claim it— when he can't even defeat a katō?
How humiliating.
Pathetic.
Sanbokan Akuto. The name grates on his pride like a whetstone on steel. Trice, he fought the bastard. Trice, he lost. It doesn't matter that the first time was a fight born of a fit of rage, that the second time was a meaningless spar at some useless institution, or that the third was by chance. What matters is the shame.
Sanbokan is a stain on his honour, an affront of everything he is supposed to represent. The Moyashi are conquerors, leaders, a clan that commanded respect.
And yet, here he kneels, defeated.
He won't let it stand. He can't.
If he wants to prove himself worthy of his name, his ancestors, his clan, his legacy, he needs to defeat Sanbokan. Not just beat him in a fight— he needs to dominate him, like Katsuro did in Suiiki. To show not only the bastard but everyone watching that the Moyashi are still a force to be feared. That Yūji isn't the exception, just the beginning.
His hands tighten into fists.
"Mercy is for allies."
Daiki straightens, bows low before the butsudan, closes his eyes. He will reclaim his honour. He will show the world the Moyashi strength once again. And he will start by putting that bastard back in his place.
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64年7月15日
Every now and then, Akuto regrets becoming a ninja.
Okan never forced him, only showed him what she could do— walk on water, manipulate the mist, heal wounds, and shoot lightning from her fingertips— and offered to teach him to do the same. He said yes. Obviously.
He first realised he was reborn in the Narutoverse when he was around four years old and his old memories started kicking in. Fuguki-oji came home from a mission that day, Samehada strapped to his back, and his hitai-ate dangling off his obi.
He remembered, then.
Memories upon memories flooded his brain— of gods and moons and a Chosen One, reconciling with nine beasts to seal the Rabbit Princess again. His memories differed from the stories Okan told him. Left him confused.
He cried. Wailed, actually. Ugly sobbing with hiccups and snot and all. But Fuguki-oji picked him up and comforted him and Akuto, scared of the future, reached for Aneki's kunai days later and said yes the moment Okan finished her question.
Surviving in this world seemed much more likely when you knew bullshit ninja magic.
Now he wonders if he might've been better off opening a bakery or restaurant, using his foreknowledge to recreate dishes unknown in this world. He likely would've never seen anything beyond Kiri that way. He'd have needed to find someone to take him on as an apprentice— Kiri has no schools for civilians— and eventually open his own restaurant with his hard-earned money.
But it would've been more pleasant than being attacked by your supposed allies.
Okan is gone on another mission, with that weird Suishō guy this time, and he's run out of the missions she got for him— nice ones, like guard duty (he never thought he'd say that, like ever), a rescue mission (someone's son got lost and needed to be tracked down) and a few villages needed saving from bandits (turned out it was the same group of bandits)— and he had to look for missions on the mission board again.
Most of the missions available these days are at the fronts, particularly those at the Lightning and Fire Country borders. Iwa already surrendered— Namikaze's slaughter of however many Iwa-nin having been the last straw.
Akuto took one of the few missions that don't send him straight to the frontlines. Sue him, he doesn't want to die. He— or whoever is first, he supposes— is to retrieve an ancient artefact: a statue stolen from the Three-Tails' temple. Rumour has it the thieves are headed toward Minakami, Water Country's capital.
Probably to sell the stolen goods on the black market.
Faint whistling of a kunai slicing through the air tears him from his thoughts. He jumps to the side and—
—falls.
Akuto slips on slick, damp earth bidden beneath a thick underbrush. His body tilts sideways. In a last-ditch effort, he tries to stick his hand to the nearest tree but he uses too much chakra—
The explosion sends him crashing through a thicket of dense bushes lining the edge of the forest. Bushes hiding a cave. His momentum propels him through it and into the cave's mouth. He tumbles. Down a short, steep decline. Leaves rustle and loose stones dislodged by his fall clatter—
He lands. Hard. A sharp, jarring pain jolts through his back. Shit. The floor of the cave is cold and damp, with very little moss and leaves to cushion his fall. He sends a quick diagnostic jutsu through his body. Nothing broken, only sprained and contused. Thankfully. But he'll be sore soon.
"Fuck me," he says.
"I'll pass, thanks."
Akuto jumps up, spins around, and hits the bumpy wall with his head. He stumbles to the side. Pulls a kunai from his pouch. The shift from the bright, green forest to the dim cave is jarring. But still. His eyes flicker through the cave.
It's an unsettling place. The walls are uneven with slender fingerlings of tree roots burrowing through the cracks. Scattered across the damp ground are chewed bones. Water drips perpetually from the fissures in the ceiling. Faint streams of sunlight manage to trickle in, fighting against the darkness, casting shadows that dance on the stone walls and glittering spiderwebs.
The voice came from a narrow passageway.
From the outside comes the sound of trees swaying gently in the breeze, a strong contrast to the cave's stillness. Only breathing fills it. Distantly, crickets call. The air is a blend of the cold, wet stone's scent and the stagnant water that pools in unseen crevices, mingling with a more human aroma— the unmistakable smell of sweat and body odour. Despite all that, Akuto can't fucking see the owner of the voice.
"If it's you again, Hoshigaki, I swear—"
"Lost in a cave and mixing up names? Really out here collecting wins today, aren't you?"
Akuto laughs. "Hard to take insults seriously from someone hidin' out in the same damn cave."
The other person, Akuto can't quite place their age, says, "Oh, I didn't realise this cave came with a crown. Should I bow, or just keep pointing out where you're failing?"
"Go on, keep talkin'. I'm right here if you wanna see who's really gonna fail."
"Sure," the other person says, stepping out of the passageway. They aren't much older than him. With decent but torn clothes, a bamboo jug fastened to their belt, dark brown hair that hangs loosely around their face, and a pipe in their hand. They look weirdly familiar. "Let's see if your fighting's as clumsy as your entrance."
Akuto grips his kunai, holding it close to his face. "Bold words for someone about to be eatin' dirt."
They make the first move. Stone cracks beneath their feet, the sound sharp and final, like the breaking of a guillotine. Chakra unleashes. Angry, corrosive, suffocating. It slams into him like a tidal wave, invisible acid that seeps into his skin and burrows into his every cell.
Akuto's breath catches in his throat. His fingers twitch. His knees lock. His heartbeat thunders in his ears, each beat getting louder until it drowns out everything else. His vision blurs at the edges. He can't breathe. The air itself feels tick, as though the chakra has stolen every ounce of oxygen from the room. His hands tremble, the kunai in his grip slipping slightly, and he doesn't even have the strength to tighten his hold.
Move. Move. MOVE! He screams at his body, but he's frozen, paralyzed by the sheer weight of the killing intent crashing down on him. His knees threaten to buckle. A bead of sweat slides down his temple, cold as ice, yet his body feels like it's on fire.
They step forward. The sound echoes through the cave like thunder. Their chakra lashes out— red, dense, and so, so angry.
Like a whip of raw malice.
A violent shiver races down his spine. He gasps for air, his chest heaving, but it doesn't come. His mind races— What do I do? How do I fight this? You can't fight this. You'll die here. You'll—
Another step. Akuto gulps hard, his body trembling violently. His muscles scream at him to run, but his legs refuse to obey. Chakra lashes again—
They collapse—
His body moves before his mind catches up. One second he's stuck in place, his vision blurred and his thoughts spiralling into chaos. The next, his arms are catching them as they fall.
The corrosive chakra vanishes.
Akuto gasps. His lungs finally dragging in air, and it burns like ice in his chest. His arms sting, raw and pink— they've been scorched by the chakra. Sweat drips down his temples, pooling at the base of his neck. His knees hit the floor. Akuto's breaths come shallow and ragged, and the cave feels frigid against his sweat-soaked skin.
By the gods, he thinks as his fingers curl tighter around the fabric of their shirt, his body trembling. I just barely escaped the wrath of a jinchūriki.
Of the Six-Tails, specifically. He thinks. Given that the Three-Tails should be sealed into Rin around this time; with Kannabi Bridge destroyed, and Obito already "dead" and Madara insistent on making Obito his ally— his pawn.
…so, Utakata?
Hardly any other jinchūriki would be this deep in Water Country.
Akuto carefully drags Utakata— who will stay Utakata until proven otherwise— into the passageway where he came from. It narrows for a bit, then widens into another cave. They are shrouded in darkness.
He feels around and, fortunately, finds relatively dry wood; probably about to be used by Utakata. With swift fingers, he forms the few hand seals for the Fire Release: Fire Starter Technique and lights the piled wood.
There's an unnamed family of jutsu designed for survival and the Fire Release: Fire Starter Technique is one of them. These jutsu are practical, efficient, and low-cost on chakra. The bread and butter of missions in hostile territory. Or circumstances like this. Fire to cook and warm, water to drink, earth to hide away tracks, movement to stay hidden.
The wood catches fire.
This cave looks much the same as the first one. Only, this one has more tunnels, though so narrow and tight Akuto would have to squeeze and crawl through and he's seen enough videos of caving gone wrong to know not to do that— especially since he knows no Earth Release techniques to save himself if he did get stuck. Which he wouldn't, because he doesn't want to tempt fate more than he already is.
Utakata's eyes flutter open. He coughs a few times.
Akuto pulls out his medical supply scroll and activates the diagnostic technique. Vivid images flash before him. Chakra swirls about chaotically, disoriented and dimmed by exhaustion. But it's more than just chakra exhaustion, apparently. Hidden beneath the jinchūriki's clothes are stab wounds, burns on his back, and multiple incisions— two of them pretty deep. And his ulna is broken. Now that Akuto is pretty close to him, he can see the physical signs as well: his arm's swollen and bruised, purple even.
"Well," Akuto says. "Don't you look like shit."
Utakata groans. "You're irritating, you know that?"
"Lucky for you, I've got healing perks."
"Shut up for a second, would you?"
Akuto complies but only and only because he needs to focus to not fuck up. He really doesn't fancy carrying a comatose Utakata on his back or accidentally releasing Saiken. He doesn't need another Incident.
He shakes his head. Focus, Akuto. He can't safely heal broken bones yet, sadly. But he can splint it, at least. The cuts and burns he can do— those injuries are common in Saigawa, too. Okan promised to teach him how to heal broken bones next time she's home. Still. The splinting'll have to wait until he can get strong enough sticks from the forest. But. He can give Utakata some painkillers. Can and will.
Akuto unseals his medical supplies and gets the painkillers and soldier pills. Is it risky to give Utakata soldier pills even though he is already suffering from chakra exhaustion? Yes. Is it needed to access Saiken's healing perk? Also yes. (At least, he thinks so. He has no idea if Saiken even has the same healing thing as Kurama, nor does he know why it hasn't kicked in yet if it does. Might be that Saiken's also low on chakra. He has to fuck around and find out, then.) Does Akuto prefer to keep giving Utakata soldier pills until they reach Kirigakure rather than deplete his own chakra and leave them defenceless? Absolutely.
He wordlessly hands the stuff to Utakata.
Next, he focuses on the deep incisions and stab wounds. He lifts Utakata's shirt. The incisions are pretty close to vital spots. All from the front— he fought his attackers. Some stab wounds mar his side, their edges red and raw. No pressure, right?
Akuto presses his palm against the first incision, his hand glowing a soft green. Slowly, carefully, he pushes his chakra into the wound, always making sure not to go too fast, too strong. He doesn't want to accidentally poison Utakata's chakra (which can happen easily) nor does he want to offend Saiken in any way, shape, or form. Quickly, the skin stitches itself back together. He moves to the other one.
This part is easy, soothing in its repetition.
As are the stab wounds. Utakata has five of them, three on his right side, two on his legs. Four of them are pretty shallow, like they were the price of being just a little too slow. Only the one of the leg is deep. (A sickening twip. Soft cries— terrified brown eyes— A spray of red—)
He shakes his head. They're healed within seconds.
Utakata sighs, long and shuddering, and his hands stop trembling. He closes his eyes.
"Turn onto your side."
Utakata does as told. The burn wounds look pretty bad. His back is a chaotic patchwork of red and pink blotching unevenly across it. Some places— all where his back curves into his abdomen— are only reddened and swollen, tender to the touch like it was kissed by the edge of a flame. In the middle of his back, where the fire jutsu must've hit, blisters swell, threatening to burst with every movement, leaking clear fluid that trail in sticky lines. A few already ruptured. Raw, weeping flesh is exposed beneath them, glistening wetly under the campfire light. They're hot to the touch.
Utakata flinches. Akuto removes his hand. "Sorry," he says softly.
He wrangles his chakra back to his hand. Pushes it gently into the wounds, carefully mending each burn. He looks around. Utakata must be wearing a change of clothes— no way his clothes weren't burned to a crisp with wounds this bad. And there— in the far corner of the cave, he sees the scraps of a nice enough looking kimono. Its edges are burnt and charred. Not much left.
Five minutes later, the only thing hinting at any injuries is a slightly pink back. He slathers some balm on it, tells Utakata to turn back around, and finally puts his arms in a sling. Only for now.
When he's done, his reserves are half-empty.
"How's that feelin'?"
Utakata groans, his eyes cracking open just enough to glare. "Better…" He pushes himself up, wincing. Grumpily he adds, "Thanks."
Akuto huffs, barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "You're welcome, Your Majesty. Try not to keel over again anytime soon."
He sits down cross-legged next to the pitiful fire, giving Utakata some space. He closes his eyes and focuses. His head starts to ache. Slowly, bit by bit, he can feel the soldier pill do its work and increase Utakata's chakra reserves.
"So," Akuto starts after a few moments of silence. ""What'd you do to end up here?"
Utakata joins him. "I was attacked—"
"Oh, yeah? Wouldn't've guessed that—"
"Shut up and let me finish."
Akuto holds his hands up in defence. "Alright, alright. Go on, Your Majesty."
Utakata rolls his eyes and exhales. His shoulders relax slightly. "It was a mission Shishō sent me on. Just recon— easy enough. Then five of 'em came outta nowhere. Didn't even give me a chance to figure out who they were or what they wanted. Just came swinging."
"Five?" Akuto whistles low. "Damn. Sounds personal."
Utakata scowls. "Maybe. Or maybe my face just pissed them off. Either way, they hit hard enough to knock me off balance— couldn't even call on Saiken properly." He pauses briefly. Shakes his head. "Managed to crawl here, and that's when you showed up."
"Guess you're lucky then, huh?"
"Hmm." Utakata doesn't elaborate, letting silence settle between them. The fire crackles softly, filling the silence. It's a comfortable one, surprisingly.
Then, without warning, Utakata asks, "You on a mission, too?"
Akuto tenses for a split second, caught off guard. "Yeah."
"What's the objective?"
Akuto hesitates, but there's no point in lying. "Tryin' to track down a stolen statue from the Three-Tail's temple."
"Supposed to, huh?" Utakata repeats, raising an eyebrow. "What's stopping you?"
"The jackasses who jumped me, got me stuck here patchin' you up."
Utakata glares at him, but there's a flicker of something like amusement in his eyes. "Fair. But you're not finishing the mission alone."
Akuto blinks. "What?"
"You heard me," Utakata says firmly. "I'll help. You patched me up— I owe you for that. Besides, we're both katō, right? You need the payout as much as I do."
Akuto stares at him for a moment, then huffs a laugh. "Bold of you to think you're storming anything in that state, Your Majesty."
"Then I'll stick to support." Utakata shrugs. "Doesn't matter. You're not shaking me until this is done."
Akuto grins, shaking his head. "Fine. But if you pass out again, I'm leavin' you behind. No debate."
"Sure you are," Utakata mutters, pushing himself to his feet with a grunt. He steadies himself against the wall, then nods toward the cave's entrance. "Let's move."
Akuto stands. "We're gonna need some sticks for your arms first. Can't have your bones settin' all wrong now, can we?"