Chapter 7: A Ghost Among Shinobi

The riverbank lay in ruins, cracked earth, scorched trees, and a dissipating mist marked the aftermath of Vergil's clash with Kakashi and the ten ANBU. Yamato rested in its sheath, its master standing tall amid the chaos. Vergil's piercing blue eyes swept over the scene: six ANBU groaning on the ground, clutching wounds or shattered weapons, three slumped unconscious against trees, and one staggering to his feet, blood trickling from a gash on his shoulder. Kakashi, panting, leaned on his cracked tanto, his Sharingan dimming as chakra waned.

Vergil's lips curled into a faint, frigid smirk. "Relax, Copy Ninja," he said, his voice a blade of ice. "It was a jest."

Kakashi's posture remained rigid, his eye narrowing. He'd been outmaneuvered, toyed with, by a man who'd just humiliated eleven elite shinobi without breaking a sweat. The ANBU stirred, disbelief etching their masked faces.

Wolf spat blood, voice hoarse. 'A jest? You carved us up for laughs!'"

Vergil shrugged, his tone dismissive. "As much as that brat annoys me, I've no interest in wasting my blade on Naruto. Chasing children is beneath me."

An ANBU froze, his mask tilting. "Naruto Uzumaki… the Fourth's legacy?"

Vergil scoffed, crossing his arms. "You're only now grasping it? Pathetic. The boy's a mirror of Minato, golden hair, blue eyes, save those absurd whiskers. A blind fool could see it."

Silence descended, heavy and suffocating. The ANBU exchanged wary glances, their breaths uneven from the fight. Kakashi's expression remained a mask, but his mind churned. Vergil knew, a secret buried deep within Konoha's shadows, spoken with casual certainty.

Vergil stretched his shoulders, turning away. "This was amusing, but I'm done here." He cast a sidelong glance at the battered ANBU. "Keep shadowing me if you must. It's your duty, after all." With a flicker, he vanished, leaving the riverbank in stunned stillness.

--

The Hokage's Office

The faint glow of Hiruzen Sarutobi's pipe illuminated the office, casting long shadows across the wooden walls. Behind his desk, the Third Hokage sat, his weathered face etched with concern. Before him stood Kakashi, his headband lowered over his Sharingan, and four of the less-injured ANBU from the riverbank fight, Wolf, Bear, Owl, and Hawk. The other six were under medical care, their wounds from the battle, too severe for immediate debrief.

Hiruzen exhaled a slow plume of smoke, his gaze fixed on Kakashi. "He knew Naruto's parentage. That's what troubles me most."

Kakashi nodded, his voice steady but grim. "It wasn't a guess, Hokage-sama. He stated it as fact, absolute, unshakable. He even described Sensei's features in Naruto."

Wolf, one arm in a sling, stepped forward, his tone edged with frustration. "How does an outsider, no clan, no village, know a secret we've guarded for years? He cut us down like fodder, and now this?"

Bear, nursing a bruised rib, added, "He didn't even flinch. Ten of us, plus Kakashi, and he walked away laughing. That clone trick, splitting himself, I've never seen anything like it."

Hiruzen's fingers tightened around his pipe. Vergil's knowledge was a dagger in the dark, and his power, demonstrated by the injured ANBU's reports of blue fire and spectral blades, was a storm Konoha couldn't ignore. "You're certain of his words?"

"He mocked us for not seeing it sooner. He's either dangerously perceptive… or he knows far more than he should." Owl

Hiruzen leaned back, mind racing. An outsider piercing Konoha's deepest secret defied reason. He made his call. "I'll contact Jiraiya. He'll dig into this Vergil Sparda."

--

A Trail That Doesn't Exist

A messenger hawk soared from Konoha, reaching Jiraiya within a day. The Toad Sage abandoned his latest tavern haunt, tapping his vast network, spies in the Land of Fire, informants in hidden villages, even old gamblers who owed him favors. He scoured records, chased whispers, and interrogated shadows.

Two weeks later, a scroll returned, its message terse and chilling:

"Nothing. No birth records, no missing-nin reports, no trace of a 'Vergil Sparda.' No clan, no village, no past. He's a ghost"

Hiruzen read it in the dim light of his office, his frown deepening. His grip on the scroll tightened, the parchment crinkling. Every shinobi left a mark, a name scratched in a registry, a rumor of a fight, a footprint in history. But Vergil? Nothing. A phantom with a blade that split reality.

"This is no ordinary man," he muttered, setting the scroll down. "A ghost among shinobi."

--

The Council Meeting

The grand chamber of the Hokage's Tower buzzed with tension. Konoha's elite filled the seats: the Elders (Homura and Koharu), the Clan Heads, and Hiruzen at the head. The air thrummed with unease, punctuated by the soft groans of two injured ANBU, Owl and Hawk, standing as witnesses, their bandages stark against their black uniforms.

Hiruzen opened the meeting, his voice steady. "We have pressing matters. But first, Danzo, I know you've been waiting."

Danzo Shimura rose, his cane tapping the floor, his single eye glinting like a predator's. "An unknown swordsman waltzes into our village, cripples ten ANBU, and toys with Kakashi, one of our finest. Yet you, Hiruzen, do nothing."

He gestured to Owl"The guy carved through our forces with techniques we can't comprehend, blue fire, spectral blades, a projection of himself.

"My Root operatives searched every archive: no birth, no history, no origin. Nothing." Danzo

Shikaku Nara leaned forward, brows furrowing. "That's… unsettling. Even the most elusive ninja leave traces."

Inoichi Yamanaka nodded, his voice grave. "Missing-nin have motives, defection, revenge. But this Vergil? He's a blank slate. It's unnatural."

Tsume Inuzuka snorted, arms crossed. "He embarrassed Kakashi and the ANBU, sure. But my daughter's dogs haven't marked him as a killer yet, just a threat. Where's the proof he's against us?"

Hiashi Hyūga's pale eyes gleamed. "Power without allegiance is a blade without a sheath. We cannot trust what we do not understand."

Choza Akimichi rubbed his chin. "If he meant harm, wouldn't those ANBU be dead, not just wounded? He held back."

Danzo's gaze sharpened. "Or he's biding his time, learning our weaknesses. He knew the Uzumaki's lineage, a secret that could destabilize us if spread. We cannot afford naivety."

Hiruzen tapped his pipe against the desk, smoke curling upward. "What's your solution, Danzo?"

Danzo's voice dropped, cold and deliberate. "We take him. Lock him away. If he has no past, we ensure he has no future beyond our grasp."

The room chilled. Owl shifted uncomfortably, recalling Vergil's might. Hawk clenched a fist.

Hiruzen's eyes hardened, his tone unyielding. "You will not touch him, Danzo."

Homura and Koharu exchanged a glance but said nothing, their silence a tacit deference. Danzo's lips twitched, a smirk, fleeting and dangerous. "As you wish, Hokage-sama."

The council knew better. Danzo's retreat was a feint, a shadow coiling for its next move.

--

Meanwhile…

Vergil perched on a rooftop overlooking Konoha, the evening wind tugging at his coat. The village sprawled beneath him, lights flickering like stars against the dusk. He sensed the council's gathering, their fear, their plotting. His smirk faded, replaced by a glacial stare.

"Danzo," he murmured, his voice a low, lethal promise. "If you dare come for me, I'll end your schemes. This world will kneel to my blade."

Yamato rested at his side, its quiet hum a testament to the storm he could unleash. For now, he watched, a ghost among shinobi, waiting for the next move in this game of power.

Chapter 8: The Boy and the Devil

The Hokage Monument loomed over Konoha, its stone faces gazing down with silent judgment. A cool evening breeze swept the mountaintop, rustling the leaves and stirring the dust at Vergil's feet. He stood at the edge, Yamato's hilt cool against his palm, his icy blue eyes tracing the village below. Months in this world had sharpened his disdain, Konoha's hypocrisy, its fragile peace built on lies, grated against him like a dull blade.

He didn't care for the view. It was just another perch to watch the ants scurry.

A rustle broke his solitude. His senses flared, but he didn't turn, not yet.

"Oi, what are you doing up here?"

Vergil's gaze flicked downward, locking onto the voice's source: Naruto Uzumaki. The boy stood a few feet away, arms crossed, his orange jumpsuit a garish stain against the twilight. Those blue eyes, Minato's eyes, sparked with curiosity, tinged with that infuriating optimism Vergil loathed.

He turned back to the village, a faint tch escaping his lips. "Of all people…"

Naruto raised an eyebrow, unfazed. "Huh? What's your problem, huh?"

Vergil didn't answer. He stepped closer, deliberate and slow, the air growing heavy with his presence. Then, in a blur too fast for Naruto to counter, he seized the boy's collar and hoisted him off the ground. The blonde's legs dangled, hands clutching Vergil's wrist in reflex.

"H-Hey! What the hell, man?!" Naruto sputtered, voice cracking with shock.

Vergil's expression was a mask of ice, his grip unyielding. "I despise you."

The words hung like a guillotine. Silence swallowed the mountaintop.

In the trees, ANBU operatives, Wolf, Owl, and two others, watched from the shadows, their breaths held. They'd shadowed Vergil for months, but they knew Naruto too, years of guarding the jinchuriki had dulled their instinct to intervene. This wasn't the usual hate. This was… different.

Naruto's face twisted, sadness flickering in his eyes. His body slackened, the fight draining out of him. Why? Why is it always like this? Another stranger, another rejection, same old sting, same old wound he couldn't name.

But Vergil's voice cut deeper. "I don't hate you for the same reasons as the villagers."

Naruto blinked, startled, his breath catching.

"I don't care about the Kyuubi," Vergil continued, his tone sharp and measured. "I don't care about your 'curse' or the whispers they choke on in the dark." His eyes narrowed, piercing through Naruto's defenses. "I despise you because even though these people spit in your face, you grovel for their approval."

Naruto stiffened, a jolt running through him.

Vergil's words were a blade, slashing through pretense. "You stumble through this village like a desperate fool, begging to be seen by those who'd abandon you without a second thought. It's pathetic."

"T-That's not!" Naruto's fists clenched, voice rising in defiance.

"Not true?" Vergil scoffed, a cold edge to his amusement. "Do you deny it? That you'd bleed for their praise, even if they never give it?" He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a frigid whisper. "Have some pride, boy."

Naruto's jaw tightened, teeth grinding. He hated this, hated how this stranger's words sank into cracks he'd ignored, hated the truth he couldn't face. His mind roared, yell, argue, fight! but a whisper gnawed at him: Is he wrong?

Vergil released him, letting Naruto drop. The boy landed on his feet, stumbling back a step, eyes wide and stormy. For a moment, he stood frozen, fists trembling, searching for a retort that wouldn't come.

Vergil exhaled sharply and turned away, coat billowing faintly. "You're wasting your time. Seeking the weak's approval only makes you weak." His voice carried a finality, a dismissal that stung worse than a blow.

Naruto watched him go, the ANBU still silent in their perch. The wind howled, but it couldn't drown out the words echoing in his head. For the first time, a seed of doubt took root, small, sharp, and unshakable.

--

Hiruzen Sarutobi sat in his office, the crystal ball glowing faintly on his desk. Pipe smoke curled around him, the light casting deep lines across his troubled face. He'd watched the exchange unfold, Vergil's sudden aggression, Naruto's faltering defiance.

At first, he'd braced for the worst, a villager's blind hate turned violent. But Vergil's reasoning wasn't that. It was… something else.

He set his pipe down, fingers steepled. "This may be a problem," he murmured. Naruto's spirit, his unyielding drive to prove himself, had kept him alive through years of scorn. But Vergil's words weren't scorn; they were a challenge, a mirror held to the boy's soul. If that fire dimmed…

Hiruzen's gaze hardened. Vergil Sparda was no mere swordsman. He was a storm stirring Konoha's fragile balance.

--

Vergil walked through Konoha's bustling streets, his coat a stark contrast to the villagers' muted tones. His mind churned, Naruto's face, that flicker of doubt, amused him. Foolish boy. Break or rise, it's your choice.

A commotion ahead snapped him out of his thoughts. Three friends stood by a ramen stall, Ino Yamanaka flipping her blonde hair, Choji Akimichi munching on chips, and Shikamaru Nara slouched with a sigh.

Ino spotted him first, her eyes narrowing. "Hey, isn't that the guy everyone's whispering about? The one with the weird sword?"

Choji glanced up mid-bite, crumbs dusting his shirt. "Huh? Looks kinda cool."

Shikamaru's lazy gaze sharpened as Vergil drew closer. He straightened slightly, a rare glint of interest in his eyes. "Wait… that's him. Vergil Sparda."

Ino turned, hands on hips. "You know him, Shikamaru?"

"Not personally," he muttered, scratching his neck. "Heard Dad talking with Uncle Inoichi and Choza about him. Said some outsider carved up ten ANBU and Kakashi like it was nothing. No clan, no past, just appeared."

Choji paused, chip halfway to his mouth. "Ten ANBU? And Kakashi? That's… kinda scary."

Ino smirked, sizing Vergil up as he approached. "He doesn't look that tough. Bet I could take him."

Shikamaru snorted. "Troublesome girl. You didn't hear the part where he split a river with one swing."

Vergil stopped a few paces away, his smirk faint but cutting. "Eavesdropping on your elders, boy? How… quaint."

Shikamaru tensed, caught off-guard, but recovered with a shrug. "Not my fault they're loud. You're the one making waves around here."

Ino stepped forward, chin high. "So, what's your deal, huh? You some big-shot ninja or just a show-off?"

Vergil's eyes glinted, amused. "Neither. I'm a swordsman who finds this village's games… tiresome."

Choji tilted his head, munching again. "Games? Like what?"

"Like pretending you're warriors while cowering behind walls," Vergil said, voice cool and sharp. "Your fathers debate my shadow, yet here you stand, clueless, soft."

Ino bristled. "Soft? Watch it, pretty boy!"

Shikamaru raised a hand, cutting her off. "He's baiting you, Ino. Don't bite." His eyes locked on Vergil, calculating. "You're not here to play nice, are you?"

Vergil's smirk widened. "Perceptive. I'll give you that." He turned, coat swaying, and walked off, leaving the trio in a mix of irritation and unease.

Shikamaru watched him go, muttering, "Troublesome… Dad's right. That guy's dangerous."

--

Later that afternoon, Vergil lingered near the training grounds, Yamato resting against a tree as he sharpened its edge with a whetstone. The rhythmic scrape soothed him, until a familiar growl interrupted.

He glanced up, spotting Kiba Inuzuka swaggering over, Akamaru bounding at his side. Behind them trailed Hana, her three Haimaru Brothers padding warily. Kiba's grin was all teeth, but Hana's warm black eyes lit up when they met Vergil's.

"Well, well, if it isn't the village ghost," Kiba called, stopping a few feet away. Akamaru barked, tail wagging despite a low rumble in his throat.

Vergil set the whetstone down, smirking. "And here's the pup who barks louder than he bites."

Kiba laughed, unfazed. "Yeah, yeah, keep talking. Heard you messed up Kakashi and a bunch of ANBU. That true?"

Hana stepped closer, hands on hips, her smile teasing. "Oh, it's true. I've seen him spar, moves like a devil, cuts like one too." She winked, her tone flirty. "Right, Vergil?"

He leaned back against the tree, crossing his arms. "Only when the company's worth it, Hana." His smirk matched hers, a flicker of warmth breaking his usual chill.

Kiba groaned, rolling his eyes. "Ugh, get a room already. Sis, you're embarrassing me."

Hana swatted his head lightly, laughing. "Shut it, brat. You're just jealous he's got more game than you."

Vergil chuckled, a rare, low sound. "He'd need a century to catch up."

Kiba bristled, but Akamaru's playful yap cut the tension. "Tch, whatever. You're still weird, man. Animals hate you, but Sis keeps flirting anyway."

The Haimaru Brothers growled softly, their fur prickling as they eyed Vergil. Hana glanced at them, then back at him, her grin softening. "They're just protective. You're a mystery, Vergil, keeps me curious."

"Curiosity's dangerous," he replied, voice dropping to a playful edge. "Might get you burned."

She stepped closer, undeterred. "Good thing I like the heat."

Kiba gagged dramatically. "I'm outta here before I puke. C'mon, Akamaru." He stalked off, leaving Hana and Vergil alone.

Hana tilted her head, studying him. "Heard you're stirring trouble again. Naruto this time?"

Vergil's smirk faded slightly, his gaze sharpening. "The boy needed a mirror. He's blind to this village's rot."

Hana sighed, crossing her arms. "He's a good kid, you know. Just… lost sometimes."

"Then he'd best find himself," Vergil said, picking up Yamato. "I won't coddle weakness."

She watched him, a mix of fondness and caution in her eyes. "You're a hard one, Vergil Sparda. But I like that about you."

He met her gaze, a faint spark passing between them. "Careful, Hana. You might regret it."

"Never," she shot back, grinning, before turning to follow her dogs.

--

Night fell over Konoha, the monument casting long shadows. Naruto sat alone on its edge, staring at the village lights. Vergil's words gnawed at him"grovel for their approval," "have some pride." He kicked a pebble, muttering, "Tch… what does he know?"

But the doubt lingered, a splinter in his resolve. For the first time, he wondered if chasing acceptance was a cage he'd built himself.

In his office, Hiruzen watched through the crystal ball, his pipe cold. "A storm indeed," he whispered, the weight of Vergil's influence sinking in.

On a distant rooftop, Vergil perched, Yamato at his side, his gaze icy and unreadable. Konoha stirred beneath him, Naruto, the clans, Danzo's shadows. He smirked faintly. Let them dance. I'll cut the strings when it suits me.