Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Darkness. That is all I have ever known. Unable to open my eyes, unable to open my mouth to call for help. Far too weak to even move a muscle, I felt so alone in this cramped space, unable to shift more than an eighth of an inch in any direction. When I tried to reach out for an escape, I always felt someone else. Who is it? Why are they confined in this prison with me? Sometimes, I feel them reach toward me—a brush of the shoulder. What do they look like? What brought them here? What did we do to end up in such a horrid place?

I began to hear noises from outside. My ears finally began to pick up the slightest sounds. My head throbbed from the silence I’d endured for so long when my hearing was finally unmuted. A muffled feminine voice spoke an odd language every now and then, with responses from two young boys—one older than the other. At one point, a few voices sounded off, making me desperately want to cover my ears. A male voice said something that made the female chuckle lightly, and the older boy quieted the very excited younger one. It was as though a volley of cannons had gone off. I suffered through the sounds, and I could tell the stranger with me felt the same.

There were times when music would drift into the darkness—calming tunes that made me forget my worries, but only until they ended. Then that same female voice would speak something I could never understand, sometimes even the older boy. The voices… it was as though they were trying to comfort us, to tell us we were safe. What a lie. Yet, those voices were so kind, so assuring. I wanted to see the sources of those sounds—to understand what was going on, to know why I was stuck with someone for months in such close quarters. It sickened me.

Any attempt to escape was thwarted by an impenetrable wall, despite my greatest efforts, weak as I was. Yet, as time went on, my strength grew. My kicks and punches sometimes felt as though they tore through the wall—only for me to realize my foolishness. This was my prison, trapped with the acquaintance who had learned to submit to their fate. They had given up. I could feel it, despite never having met them.

I have decided that, after an unknown amount of months in this hellhole, I would finally escape—with or without the one with me. We’ve been through the same turmoils and pain. It is what has connected us this entire time. Both of us have felt what no one should ever feel. They feel broken, their aura lost and desperate. Our time here is coming to a close. We both knew it.

Before I broke through the wall, I made sure to put the person out of their misery. They were the best friend I ever had, even though no words were spoken, nor did we ever see each other. I made sure it was quick, finding a way to end their life despite the small space that nearly kept me from doing so. It felt like I wanted to shed a tear for them, to mourn that they would never see the outside world again—would always be stuck in this prison of darkness.

Suddenly, a blinding light shone on my face, and sounds more piercing than ever assaulted my ears. My eyes squeezed shut, and my head turned away. I felt two large things pick me up, like I was an object easily shattered. My voice returned to me, and I let out the loudest scream of warning I could manage, trying to fend off those hands that were wrapping me in something I’d never felt before. The sounds began to die down as I was set onto a soft surface. Then, that same kind voice whispered in my ear, trying to calm me before I was taken away by a pair of large yet soft things. The voice began to whimper, which turned into a pained scream. Another pair of things—smaller this time—covered my ears to block the noise. Then, the voice began to sob.

After a while, I was placed on that soft surface again, a warm liquid running down my throat. It was the only thing I remember tasting. The voice spoke softly, and another, deeper one responded. Those two young voices went silent, a soft crying filling the air as one tried to comfort the other. What did they mean? Why couldn’t I understand? Those thoughts drifted away as my body forced itself into sleep. For the first time, I welcomed its embrace.

The same rhythm repeated itself for a few days: the kind voices, the sweet liquid. Then, I was finally able to open my eyes. Above me were four people, their faces full of what I could only guess was a mixture of love and shock. The woman was most affected, tears streaming down her face. The man simply stared at me, disbelief clear in his black eyes. He opened his mouth, a sound coming from it. Then the woman said something back. I reached up to touch her face, wanting to know what her skin felt like. It was soft and comforting, the look in her eyes full of love. She shifted, allowing me to see the two boys before handing me to the older one. I didn’t make a sound as I was placed in his arms, a feeling washing over me like a wave. I felt safer with him than with the woman. His small smile, full of love, reassured me as he opened his mouth. Sounds reached me that I couldn’t understand but knew the meaning of. His look translated it easily. The boy next to him made a noise, and I was carefully given to him soon after. His smile was contagious, making me grin a little. The boy looked at the older one, who was also smiling, happiness shining through them both. Was this what a family felt like? I engraved their faces in my mind, never wanting to forget this day. Maybe, maybe the rest of my life would be like this. I laughed, knowing that would be the case. That one simple action drained me of my small energy reserve, and my eyes slowly shut. I stared at the two boys, never willing to forget the way they looked at me.

About three years passed, and my life was perfect with this family. Memories formed; I could tell who my family was and say their names, though with some trouble. I played in the water that fell from the sky… but one night, a sound woke me from my peaceful sleep—one unusual compared to what I was used to. I opened my eyes to see a foreign pair of hands reaching for me, picking me up. I tried to yell for help, but my voice wouldn’t work. Helplessly, I was taken through an open hole in the wall, glancing back one last time at my two brothers, who were sleeping soundly. To my dismay, my body forced me to sleep again, shutting my eyes off to the world once more. This world is cruel.

Chapter Text

This place of torment is my home—the only one I can remember, if you could even call it living. The ceiling stretches higher than my chakra can reach; even when I run up the walls, there’s no end in sight. I’ve only ever been allowed into two rooms: the training hall and my poor excuse for a bedroom—the latter being where I currently reside. On the rare occasions I tried to explore beyond them, I quickly learned not to, after the severe beatings it earned me.

I sat cross-legged on the cold stone floor, eyes closed, focusing on gathering my thoughts and clearing my mind. A deep breath sent a sting through my ribcage. I straightened my back, shoulders pulled tight, and felt liquid oozing down my side. With a thought, the wound sealed itself, letting me return to my inner world. But before I could, a sudden shock tore through my body, forcing a cry of pain from my lips.

Two figures dressed head to toe in black entered the room. They seized my arms and dragged me out the door—an easy task, given my small frame. Sometimes I wondered if they enjoyed letting my feet scrape along the floor, adding fresh scabs and bruises to the ones I already bore.

As always, they threw me onto the stone floor of the training hall without hesitation or shame. At least they hadn’t broken my arm on the way down this time. Unfortunately, I landed poorly, and the pain in my wrist and knee told me one was broken and the other badly bruised. I knew whoever was monitoring my progress must have laughed at the sight, while the masked ones grinned at my pain.

With a wince, I forced myself upright, refusing to heal. Healing now risked further injury, and the one in charge always knew how to inflict the most pain. So it didn’t surprise me when several more figures dropped from the ceiling, landing a few yards away, each armed with hidden kunai.

My ability flared to life without conscious effort, allowing me to read the levels of their chakra—immense, as always. What the overseer of my training was thinking was beyond me. My second thought was cut short as they attacked, nearly trapping me inside a barrier. Channeling chakra, I transported myself to the wall, hands already moving through the signs for a fire jutsu. But they had anticipated it, scattering out of range.

In a blink, I teleported again, this time watching one of them form a rapid sequence of hand signs. Without realizing it, I copied his movements at his blinding speed and unleashed the same jutsu simultaneously. A rain of jagged rocks materialized, crashing down on two of the attackers and skewering them before they could react. A smile tugged at my lips as both fell dead.

But dizziness washed over me, blurring my vision, and that was all it took for one of the others to strike me from behind.

I hit the floor hard, barely managing to keep my nose from breaking on impact. An instant later, seals flared around me, draining my chakra, leaving me surrounded and helpless. I clenched my eyes shut, unwilling to let rage consume me. Something snapped—then darkness claimed me.

When I awoke, I was back on my mattress, every muscle aching from the day before. I lifted my head just enough to glimpse the bandages wrapping my arms and legs, blood already seeping through most of them, before it dropped back against the bedding. I focused on healing myself.

It took time—too much time—before the pain subsided, and by then my chakra was surely depleted again. As I lay there, motionless, my thoughts drifted to the fight, to the hand signs I had copied. An earth technique. A killing blow, meant to cripple or destroy. It hadn’t even been that powerful, yet it had claimed two lives.

Two people.

The first I had ever killed.

And the joy it gave me—nothing else compared. I wanted more.

Chapter Text

Once again, I sat in my room, legs crossed and hands resting on my knees. The burns that had once consumed my body were now nothing but lingering scars from a few days before. It had taken a day or two for my voice to return—apparently, I had been screaming in agony after the seals were ignited. That much should have been expected. It was my failure for not reacting quickly enough. Another weakness for him to exploit. My pain gave him power over me—and I hated that.

The door opened, and two black-clad figures entered. Their masks were different today, as was their chakra. Just another way to toy with me, I supposed. Before they could grab me with their unnecessarily tight grip, I bolted through the doorway. Instantly, a surge of electricity ripped through me as punishment. The current tore along my body, the shriek of countless birds filling my ears. I refused to scream. My knees buckled, my breathing ragged. Then it stopped. One of them hauled me upright, ignoring the acrid smell of burnt flesh rising from my small frame.

A voice boomed through the silence—one I despised, one I had always wished to silence forever. It sent shivers racing down my spine, as it always did. That voice had haunted my dreams, forcing me to relive my worst pains. It came again, deeper, sharper. A blade pressed against my throat as my head was yanked back by my straight black hair. My eyes widened when I spotted a shadow through the wall, his chakra betraying him: a man with a cane, one arm raised.

“Jun.”

The single word made fury flood through me. A laugh rippled across the air, and then pain slashed across my throat. Warm liquid seeped into my clothes.

The other masked figure pressed a hand to my skin, closing the wound. A scar remained, faint but present. Tears threatened to fall, though none did, as I was hurled to the ground. My fists clenched, a growl tore from my throat. Again, the shriek of birds filled my ears. My fist erupted with electricity. Without thinking, I lunged at the one who had nearly ended me, a single thought in my mind.

Chidori.

They didn’t have time to react. My hand tore through their chest and burst out the other side. The sensation—their organs shredding and sizzling as bone cracked around them—was the most satisfying feeling I had ever known.

My breath came in ragged gasps. My power thrashed inside me, fighting to escape. A maniacal laugh burst from my lips and echoed through the chamber, burning itself into memory. Blood spattered to the floor, and impossibly, they were still alive. I gripped what I assumed to be a vital organ and wrenched my hand free, savoring the spray that drenched me. Acting on instinct, I seized one of their knives and slit their throat, my grin stretching wider as the blood arced forward.

In my frenzy, I had forgotten about the other one—the healer. The sound of their step back snapped my attention toward them. I spun, knife raised. Their body trembled, so unlike before. I stepped forward, hungry to carve them apart. To kill.

My vision wavered. I sucked in a breath—and drowned. Water filled my lungs, forcing a wet cough from me. My gaze dropped, and I realized I hovered just above the ground, suspended in a circle of water. I couldn’t breathe. Black spots crept at the edges of my vision. My body wouldn’t move. My chakra was gone. Death itself lingered in that silence.

All I could do was glare at the figure before me, praying they would fall to my hand.

And then, everything went dark.

Chapter Text

My eyes fluttered open, vision blurry. The ceiling above me seemed painted in shifting shades of grey and white, all rocking back and forth in a steady rhythm. It was almost comforting how the patterns passed through each other, shrinking with every cycle. When they finally met, the ceiling became the same one I had always known.

I tried to lift my head, but it felt far too heavy. I had no choice but to keep staring upward. Each shaky breath made my lungs ache. To my chagrin, memories began planting themselves in my mind, forcing me to relive them one by one. Every single one was a failure from the training sessions I had been forced to endure: being electrocuted more times than I could count, flames consuming me as I struggled against the seals that bound me… and now, the memory of my throat being slit—the cold knife gliding across my skin, parting flesh until blood poured freely.

My body shivered at the newest method my cruel overseer had devised to heighten my pain tolerance. How many times had he nearly killed me, only to drag me back at the last moment? My life had always been in the hands of a madman who wanted nothing but my suffering. But who was he really? Why was my torment his obsession? My jaw clenched, and immediately a wave of pain jolted through my body. Tears pricked at my eyes, but stubborn pride held them back. I could feel the bandages wrapped around me—some wound so tightly it hardly felt like I still had limbs beneath them.

With great effort not to scream, I forced myself to sit up. My arm convulsed with pain as I reached toward the wrappings around my legs. Fingers numb, I fumbled for the cloth until, with a weak tug, it tore. I watched as the bandage unraveled to reveal my ruined shin and ankle. The skin was split open in several places, fresh blood seeping from the strain of movement. Closing my eyes, I tried to focus, willing my body to heal. A faint green glow gathered around the wound, warmth spreading through it. My teeth clenched as a bone snapped back into place before the torn flesh knitted closed, leaving pale skin where there had been ruin.

For what felt like hours, I continued to heal myself, piece by piece. Each attempt left me weaker, forcing me to pause for breath and fight against the growing ache in my head.

At last, I went limp, falling back against the bed. Relief washed over me—I was no longer bound in suffocating bandages. Yet humiliation lingered. Someone had taken the time to restrain me, to make me as uncomfortable as possible.

Then realization struck. That man wanted to break me. To mold me into another obedient soldier like those who had hunted me time and again.

But a grin tugged at my lips. He thought himself the puppeteer, but he was still in the dark. And for the first time, I was the one standing in the light.

Chapter Text

The next few years went by faster than I expected, given the circumstances. My training had become far more aggressive, almost as if people were lining up just for the chance to fight me. It took me a while to learn not to show emotion with every kill, despite the growing joy I felt with each one. There was a freedom in ripping out someone’s heart or lung with pinpoint accuracy, absorbing their chakra like a sponge in water.

Over time, my eyes matured, able to track the slightest movements from multiple opponents before they struck. For weeks, no one had landed a single hit on me—my speed was simply too much for their weak minds to comprehend.

I had abandoned the use of jutsu altogether, realizing it wasn’t worth wasting energy on such trivial nonsense. Instead, I turned solely to martial combat, closing in on my enemies directly. The best part of it was watching their chakra freeze in fear, leaving them wide open for me to end them with axe kicks or swift punches to the throat and skull. Eventually—much to my annoyance—my opponents began to imitate my tactics.

One day, I was shoved into the training hall, my chakra drained to what felt like an all-time low. Instinctively, what little energy remained filtered into my eyes, letting me see every poorly hidden body lurking in the shadows. The one constant—always—was the same figure watching me from the high wall, his chakra burning in that familiar frame. Lightning coursed through my veins, flickering across my skin. I smirked, setting my gaze on the room full of enemies. The lightning cut off. A low growl of frustration echoed across the chamber. Then the fighting began.

They rushed me all at once, hoping to overwhelm me and split my attention. It didn’t work. With movements faster than their eyes could follow, I cut through them one by one, leaving a trail of broken and bleeding bodies. By the time they began to adjust, most were already dead or writhing on the ground.

For my own amusement, I crushed a man’s skull beneath my bare foot. The sharp crunch echoed across the stone floor as blood pooled outward in widening streams. My moment of fascination nearly cost me—two heavy strikes came from behind, aimed at my back and head. My body reacted before my mind did: a swift roundhouse kick to the abdomen sent one flying into the wall. The crash of rock and falling debris made me grin.

The rest blurred together. A kick here, a hand through a throat there. Screams followed me as I ripped off arms, gouged out eyes, and left behind only mangled corpses. When clarity returned, I was standing in silence, breathing steady, surrounded by a field of mutilated dead. My eyes went immediately to the wall, to the shadowed figure who always watched. Scowling, I turned and left, leaving bloody footprints in my wake.

Back in my room, the silence wrapped around me again. My chakra had returned, mending the minor cuts and bruises that remained. My thin, torn shirt was stained deep red, the blood seeping further into fabric already ruined. Rising, I stretched, joints cracking in a dozen places.

That was when the intruder appeared. They rose seamlessly from the floor itself, startling me for the first time in years. Their face was hidden behind a twisted wooden mask. I froze, waiting for an attack, every muscle coiled. But instead, the figure extended a gloved hand.

I glanced down. In their grip was a jar. Inside floated two eyes—familiar eyes that stared at me as though alive.

Pain struck me like lightning, forcing me to clutch my head. Those eyes weren’t just familiar—they were mine. A memory long buried clawed its way up, burning me from within.

“These belong to you,” the man said, his voice steady. “By birthright.”

Confusion twisted across my face. Birthright? What did he mean? My hands dropped limply to my sides as I realized I had fallen to my knees. My voice caught in my throat, coarse from disuse, unable to form the questions boiling inside me.

The single eyehole in his mask glowed dark red. And for the first time in years, I felt something strange—hope—in that red light.

“Take what is yours,” he said, snapping me from my thoughts. “And I will teach you its power.”

Something deep inside me stirred, a connection to those eyes I couldn’t deny. My entire being reached for them, as though they had always been part of me.

I gave a single nod, ready to accept whatever came next.

Then, my world went black.

Chapter Text

I woke to darkness. Not the kind that comes with closed eyes or an unlit room, but an all-consuming void that swallowed everything. My vision held only one color—black—stretching endlessly as far as my trained eyes could see.

Instinctively, I raised a hand to my face, fingers brushing against my eyelid. They were shut. Of course they were. I lowered my hand and opened them. Darkness again. A vast, endless expanse.

A sound stirred to my right—a breath I recognized. Familiar. Too familiar. I dared not move. Then, ahead of me, a faint glow flickered to life, taking the shape of a person seated on an unseen chair. Their chakra was immense, far greater than anything I had ever felt. It made me wonder what lay beyond my prison.

“Focus on healing yourself.” The voice was low, calm, commanding. The figure shifted slightly as the presence beside me moved. “They will return later. Use what you have now to your advantage.”

Then, without a sound, the figure slipped into the void and vanished.

Alone again, I blinked against the darkness, adjusting to the new set of eyes I had been given. I tried to rise, but pain flared instantly, a dull ache rippling through my skull. My chakra stirred sluggishly, then finally began flowing, mending torn flesh and soothing the pounding in my head.

I lay there for a while, thoughts circling endlessly. Who was that man? His chakra was unlike anything I had ever encountered. How had he found me? Why had he given me these eyes? What did he want from me? And his name—what was it? My fists clenched, frustration boiling. Nothing made sense anymore. What was beyond this prison?

The creak of a door broke through my thoughts. My eyes darted up. Two silhouettes filled the doorway, silent and waiting. Without a word, I forced myself to stand and walked through where I knew the threshold was.

The training hall stretched before me, but it wasn’t the same. No crowd. No overseers. Only the two figures at my back. My guard flared, instincts screaming like fire on my skin. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong. The watcher’s form—the man who always lingered—was gone.

A blast of air whipped past me. Reflexively, I leapt back, landing high against the wall. My gaze locked on the two figures below, their hands weaving through a complex string of seals. Power thrummed between them, a force ready to be unleashed.

Then the stench hit—blood, thick and putrid, seeping through the stone floor. Confusion stabbed at me. One figure grinned. The other muttered incantations beneath their breath.

My vision blurred. My body sagged. And in the haze, something monstrous appeared.

It was massive, armored in blood-red plating. Eight thin but lethal legs stabbed into the ground, pincers snapping with echoes that reverberated through the chamber. Above its head, connected by sinew and muscle, rose a blade sharper than anything I had ever seen—death in a single strike.

Its cluster of black, beady eyes locked onto me. Waiting. Measuring.

Blood dripped from my left eye as I stared back.

Without warning, the two figures beside it erupted into flames. Not ordinary fire—the blackest flame I had ever seen. Their screams clawed at the air, desperate and shrill. For a moment, I wanted to laugh. And then they were gone—scorched husks on the ground.

But the creature remained, unmoving. Watching.

Neither of us moved, predators locked in silent challenge.

Then it spoke.

“You are strong to have fought me this long,” it rumbled, voice deep and resonant. Its legs shifted, the great blade twitching in anticipation. “Why not give up?”

I growled, my eye bleeding freely now.

A sound rumbled from its throat—laughter. “Genjutsu does not work on me. Nor on you.”

It stepped forward, long appendage swaying like a pendulum of death. “What is your name, young Uchiha?”

The word struck me like a blade. Uchiha. What did that mean? Why call me that? And as for my name… I had none to give. I stayed silent.

“You have no name,” it said at last, surprise flickering in its tone. It shifted sideways, as if preparing to tear down the wall itself. “I am Takeshi. It would be mutually beneficial for you to form a contract with me as your summon. Those fools were at the end of their lives anyway.”

Slowly, I descended from the wall, my gaze never leaving its own.

“All will be explained in due time,” it promised. “Simply say my name, and we will be bound together.”

The word came from my lips before I could stop it. “Takeshi.”

The strength in my voice startled me. I had hardly spoken in years, yet the command carried authority.

Takeshi inclined his monstrous head, approval in the glint of his eyes, before dissolving into smoke that vanished as quickly as it came.

I laughed, low and sharp. At last, I was beginning to glimpse the world beyond this prison.

And soon, I would walk it as I pleased.

Chapter Text

I had been standing in the same spot for what felt like hours, savoring the thought of the reality soon to come. Everything I had been put through was finally nearing its end—I could feel it.

Footsteps echoed. My gaze snapped toward the sound.

A man, middle-aged by the look of him, stopped in the center of the room. For the first time, I saw what one of them looked like without the black garb. Brown hair streaked faintly green hung past his shoulders. His pale skin was marred with scars, one cutting beneath a pair of light, cold eyes. Every fiber of me screamed to kill him where he stood.

“Jun.”

That voice. The one I despised with every shred of my being.

“You have been corrupted by the outside world, haven’t you?” His tone made it a statement, not a question.

I clenched my fists but stayed silent.

The man tilted his head. “Do you know why I’ve kept you here your entire life?”

I met his gaze with pure hatred, unflinching.

“I wanted to shape you into the ultimate weapon for your village. A force capable of conquering any threat.” He clasped his hands behind his back, and my guard rose instantly. “I am Ka—the only shinobi who knows of your existence. Not even she knows of you. I was the one who personally brought you here.”

Before thought could catch up, fire flared into my hand, shaping into a blade that stopped just shy of his heart. For the first time in years, tears burned down my face—an involuntary weakness I couldn’t conceal from the monster before me.

“You must submit, Jun,” Ka commanded. “Just like you always have.”

Shock flickered across his face a moment before his body convulsed, sizzling with electricity coursing through him. He gasped for breath—only to be sealed within a cage of water. The terror in his eyes was delicious.

We both knew what I was doing. What I was going to do.

I released the prison only to engulf him in black flames, delighting in his shrieks as he burned. The fire receded, leaving him broken, trembling, barely alive.

I stood over him, pulling a hidden kunai from my clothes. With deliberate slowness, I pressed the blade into his side, savoring every flicker of agony on his face.

“Suffer me now,” I rasped, electricity surging through him once again.

His body collapsed, blood pooling at my feet, his skin nearly charred to ash. Panting with fury, I drove the kunai into his stomach, burying it until the tip struck stone beneath him. His near-lifeless eyes met mine.

He would not die without hearing my last words.

“I will destroy what you wanted to protect.” I leaned close to his ear, whispering, “You taught me that much.”

I rose slowly, watching the final spark drain from his gaze. Then, with one decisive stomp, I crushed his ribcage.

Panting, my body trembled—not from exhaustion, but from sadistic glee. My chest heaved with elation. A jagged laugh tore free, wracking me as I threw back my head, arms spread wide. He suffered. He suffered. He’s dead. He didn’t even fight back. Pathetic. Weak. Couldn’t even save his own life.

When had I last laughed like this? Not since the first time I killed.

My head lowered, black hair shadowing my eyes.

Then I noticed it. To my right—a door. One that had never been there.

I approached cautiously, every step ready to explode into violence. Nothing lay beyond but a staircase of smooth, unmarked stone leading upward.

At the top, I froze. Doubt gnawed at me. What if this was a trick? What if this was just another prison, another meaningless life?

I shoved the thoughts aside and pressed a hand against the door.

With a steady push of determination, it opened.

Chapter Text

A harsh light suddenly illuminated the world around me, making me recoil instinctively and shield my eyes with my arms. Minutes passed before I adjusted, lowering my hands slowly. A breeze ruffled my hair, carrying scents that drifted through the air. Green growths on thick wooden logs surrounded me, rustling softly and comforting me as the wind passed by. Beneath my feet, brown stone was dotted with green, spike-like protrusions. With each step, the surface squished slightly, but there was no pain—no blood.

A sound above drew my attention. Perched on one of the green-topped wooden logs was a small, innocent-looking creature, tilting its head to examine me. Its tiny, beady eyes glimmered in the light. Then, from its pointed mouth, came a sound—beautiful, delicate, unexpected. The short melody caught me off guard, and a tear slid down my cheek. The creature spread its tiny, armored arms and took flight, vanishing into the air, leaving me speechless.

I lingered for a few minutes, trying to collect myself. This was the world I had been torn from. I had barely glimpsed it before, and it was far more wondrous than I had ever imagined. I turned toward the place I had come from—a stone doorway in the middle of this paradise, a grim marker of death and suffering. My hand rose on its own, fingers outstretched. With a snap, the doorway was instantly concealed, covered in wood and camouflaged perfectly among the surrounding logs. I turned away, leaving my old life behind.

My legs carried me along tall pillars of wood and green, my eyes drinking in everything around me. The blue sky above, dotted with puffs of white, was soothing. A singular yellow light cast down over everything, bright enough to sting my eyes when I looked at it, confusing me slightly. The creatures of this world revealed themselves occasionally. One paused to watch me—a black-winged figure. We studied each other in silence before it flew away, its dark form stark against the vibrant surroundings.

I resumed walking once it vanished, a feeling I couldn’t name creeping through me—a gentle wave urging calm, urging me to relax. That feeling intensified as a large body of water came into view. The yellow light reflected off its surface, scattering color into the air. I approached cautiously, careful not to disturb its stillness.

Then I knelt, and my breath caught. A face stared back at me from the water. The right eye was gold, the left blue. A crooked scar ran from the inner edge of the right eyebrow, across the eye, down to the ear. Their shirt was shredded, revealing deep scars etched across their abdomen and chest—wounds too severe ever to fully heal. Pale skin made the injuries stand out even more. Muscles honed from constant use rippled under the surface. Jet-black hair rested on their shoulders, tips nearly brushing the water, and I could tell it would reach their waist from the way strands curled toward the ground.

And yet, it was their gaze that held me. Cold, distant, yet hiding a spark beneath layers of pain and apathy. Then their form shifted—something both strange and eerily familiar. Is this what their eyes changed into so often? Are they what allowed me to learn so much from the people I've killed? Takeshi's words rang in my head, "...young Uchiha." Are my eyes connected to that name?

And yet, it was their gaze that held me. Cold, distant, yet hiding a spark beneath layers of pain and apathy. Then their form shifted—something both strange and eerily familiar. Were these the eyes that changed so often? Were they what had allowed me to learn so much from the people I had killed? Takeshi’s words echoed in my mind: “…young Uchiha.” Were my eyes connected to that name?

I took a deep breath and touched the water’s surface. Cool. Another breath, and I dove in without thinking. The water embraced me, gentle and enveloping. I opened my eyes, looking up as the surface reflected countless colors. My mouth opened on its own, sending silent bubbles to the surface. My body went limp, arms and legs outstretched, moving rhythmically with the current. Breathing felt unnecessary, as if the water itself was protecting me. I closed my eyes, savoring the darkness.

Uchiha. If that was a name he knew me by, then others must have names too. The man who had kept me prisoner had called me something—but he had never mentioned this new one. Perhaps… it was time to choose my own. I scoffed, frustration coursing through me. As if I would know any. Masaru.

Takeshi’s voice boomed in my mind. My eyes snapped open. A tendril of chakra, unseen yet tangible, wrapped around me like fingers, pulling me from the water. I emerged, scanning for threats. My own chakra activated, breaking the grasp. I landed on my feet, ready to unleash a fire-breath jutsu.

“Don’t!”

My gaze flicked to the voice. A person with long, light hair stared at me, eyes colorless, gray like a dead soul. Beside them stood someone with unnaturally red hair, vivid against the landscape. Finally, a man with black, spiked hair tied up in a band, hands forming a jutsu. His shirt was green, pants black, eyes full of forced maturity and authority.

I canceled my jutsu and tilted my head, wet hair sticking to me. Surprise registered in his eyes; his hands faltered. The other two exchanged nervous glances. The man spoke first.

“Who are you?” His tone was stern, but curiosity and caution betrayed him. I ignored the question. Instead, I ripped a piece of my shirt and replicated the style of his hair. The three watched, confused, as I finished tying my own hair up—it almost reached my waist. Their chakra signatures were weak, far below the ones I was familiar with.

“Are you going to answer or what?” the man asked irritably.

I looked up at the blue sky above, raising a hand almost unconsciously. A smirk played across my lips as I made direct eye contact with him.

“Masaru.”

The long-haired girl relaxed slightly, though apprehension lingered. The man raised a brow, dropping his hands to his sides, one resting on his hip. Trust was not yet earned, and I didn’t blame him.

“So… Masaru,” the girl said, “why were you in that lake? You seemed like you were drowning, so Shikamaru pulled you out.” They exchanged looks again. She continued, hesitant as if walking on spikes: “If you don’t mind me asking… why are your clothes so torn?”

I lowered my hand limply, letting it sway at my side before stopping. My eyes closed briefly, fists tightening. I could feel their gaze on me, their bodies now forms of chakra—different from nearly anyone else I had seen, and harmless.

A fourth form caught my attention in the distance. Familiar. Powerful. The one that had changed my life. I opened my eyes, pretending not to notice, slightly turning my head away. I made it clear I wouldn’t answer. Their forms shifted subtly, silently planning, analyzing. I had seen this all before.

Chapter Text

 Their words were loud; I could hear every single one like a knife piercing flesh, breaking bone with how jagged it was. Should we trust him? He could be a spy for all we know. But he's obviously hurt! You think that matters? That's one of the oldest infiltration tactics in the books. Clearly he's not from around here. Maybe he's a missing nin? I doubt it. We'd have heard of someone able to cancel jutsus like that. How about we take him to Lady Tsunade? Surely she could help him. And put the entire village at risk? Heck no, Ino. What if we request she and Kakashi come instead? Maybe even having Naruto would be good. We're still a few days out, Shikamaru. Ino is right; it's not a bad idea. Team Kakashi is on a mission, so they're out of the question. Then shouldn't we get him tidied up a bit first, have him presentable for her? Like she would care. She's seen worse, what with her medical ninjutsu. Who should go then? You should. Explain everything; have her bring backup if she deems it necessary. Choji and I will be able to hold him off if anything happens.

They didn't trust me at all even though I had done nothing to them. Is that what this world was like? And what was a missing nin? Who were those people they had mentioned? My head began to hurt from the amount of information I had just gathered.

"I'm going to get someone who can help you, Masaru," the light-haired girl, Ino, said, straightening her kunai belt. "Please stay with my comrades until I return. They'll keep an eye on you so you don't hurt yourself again."

I nodded, still facing away as she left. Once she was gone, I sat at the water's edge, moving my fingers back and forth across its surface. What exactly were they planning with their leader? I scowled slightly, unaware that the water under my fingertips had begun to freeze. The two behind me stayed silent, watching carefully. The black-haired man memorized my every movement—just like that man, preying on my weakness at the perfect moment. Maybe I was jumping to conclusions. After all, these were some of the first people I had encountered outside my prison. Yet the only one who seemed to understand what I had endured was the man in the mask. Perhaps he could help me understand this world and its people.

I lay back, hands behind my head, staring up at the vast expanse of blue above me. What lay beyond it? Was it always blue? A group of black, winged creatures crossed the clearing, calling to one another in their strange language. A gentle breeze rustled the greenery, soothing me. My eyes closed, and soon I drifted off to sleep.

A strange noise woke me, alerting me to a potential threat. I stayed still, eyes shut, scanning for chakra, but found none. Slowly, I opened my eyes and was struck by the new beauty above me. The sky was dark, yet dotted with countless lights, each different from the next.

A flap of wings beside me caught my attention. I turned to see the same black creature I had encountered when leaving my prison. It tilted its head and hopped toward the woods, glancing back as if waiting for me. Without disturbing the others, I rose and followed it, curious about its destination.

Soon, the creature stopped at another small body of water, its surface glistening with the reflected lights. It flew away as I approached, revealing a pillar of wood and green above me. Something green fell in front of me, alerting me to a presence I could not yet see. I looked up, ready to attack—until I saw the familiar masked man lounging on a branch. He dropped silently to the ground, facing me the entire time.

"You’ve come in contact with shinobi of Konoha."

Shinobi. Was that what people in this world were called? And Konoha—was that where the three lived? How much did I truly know of this world?

"It’s also called the Hidden Leaf," he continued. "The place where you were born, where your parents were brutally murdered, and where you were kidnapped into your old life of pain. Let me tell you about this world’s pitiful existence."

The yellow light of the rising sun illuminated him as he spoke of my clan’s slaughter, the cruelty of every nation, his dream of eternal peace, the Tailed Beasts, and the Akatsuki working to capture the last five in order to achieve that peace. I clenched my jaw, fists tightening until blood formed.

This world was just another prison, with those in power harming anyone they pleased. The villages were no better than that man, using excuses to kill and torture under the guise of peace. Assassinations, kidnappings, infiltration, destruction—they were all guilty. To let anyone die for the sake of a village was disgusting.

I met the man’s gaze and said, "What would you have me do?"

Chapter Text

From everything he had told me, a few pieces of information stuck out more than the others: how I was a missing-nin from the Leaf Village, despite my existence being unknown; the demise of two of the most powerful members of our clan; how—even though I had done nothing wrong in this world—I would be hunted like an animal, tortured, interrogated, and locked away again; how the man before me was part of my near-extinct clan, the true leader of the Akatsuki, and how that fact had to remain secret; and finally, that he had a mission meant for me—to prove my power to the Akatsuki.

The man before me knew so much that I couldn’t yet comprehend. The way he watched me absorb his information was unsettling. Just being near him, I could feel the hidden, cold, murderous intent radiating off him in waves. It was as if he knew everything about me despite having just met me. Perhaps I was overthinking.

“Once you’re finished, come to our headquarters.”

I watched as he vanished into thin air, leaving only his eye behind. Silence settled around me, broken only by the distant breathing of the two ninja I had met earlier. I stood still for several minutes, weighing my options. Eventually, I turned and retraced my steps, enjoying the soft sunlight along the way. Thoughts clouded my mind, preventing the calm I wished for. Who was Team Kakashi? Such an odd-sounding name. A small group? And Naruto—who was he? Asking the two ninja would only arouse suspicion. So why was I going back? I paused, taking a deep breath to clear my mind, and then continued, determined to explore the rest of the world.

Time passed as I moved away from the forest. I knew that leaving the two behind, especially Shikamaru, would increase their distrust. Perhaps I’d even be added to the Hokage’s bingo book simply for refusing interrogation. What was their leader like? From what I’d heard, she must be trustworthy. Did everyone in Konoha blindly follow her, even to the point of self-sacrifice? The thought repulsed me.

Lost in my own thoughts, I didn’t notice the approaching ninja until it was too late. Four kunai embedded themselves in my body—two in my knees, two in my shoulders. My eyes widened as I saw explosive tags attached. Then I smirked, tearing the weapons free and pinpointing four of six heads nearby. Morbid pops echoed as their skulls shattered, blood spraying as my own wounds healed instantly.

A clone of mine appeared, lunging at one of the remaining ninja with a blade of ice as I turned to the other. He froze in fear, eyes wide, body trembling. One of my eyes began to bleed as I set him ablaze in black flames, his screams of agony filling the air. I turned to the most intact opponent—a mangled, bloody mess, face unrecognizable, head partially shattered from my assault. My clone vanished into a puff of smoke as I inspected their clothing, an odd shirt and trousers. Looking down at my torn clothes, I shed them and put on the garments of one of the fallen, feeling far more comfortable than before. A backpack caught my eye, lying beside one of the headless bodies. I approached cautiously and opened it, finding a few pieces of bread and a round red fruit. So there I sat, eating among the bodies without a care, watching the sun climb higher in the sky.

My journey led me to a ruined landscape: wooden pillars splintered and uprooted, the ground soggy as if a flood had just passed, though the water felt infused with residual chakra. A distant blast drew my attention. My body moved on instinct, and within seconds I arrived to witness several people battling a blue-skinned man near an extended body of water. His chakra was immense—the strongest I had ever seen, aside from Takeshi and the masked man.

A few others caught my attention, particularly a man with strange purple arms jutting from his body. My eyes shifted, analyzing every movement and jutsu I could perceive. The blue-skinned man wielded a bizarre sword, alive and jagged with teeth. Time seemed to slow as the purple-armed man gained the upper hand, yet the blue man refused to relent. His sword had saved him from a fatal blow moments earlier, and nearly all of his summoned creatures were destroyed, save for one hidden away. In what appeared to be a last-ditch effort, the blue man encased himself in a water prison, only to have three creatures kill him seconds later. I scowled, frustrated at the knowledge I had been unable to gain.

The three remaining fighters collected what they had been battling for, oblivious to their explosive chakra. The following blast provided the perfect distraction. I moved silently, stealing the sword from the odd man, careful to avoid detection.

Soon I was out of their range, unable to sense the strongest among them. I paused to examine the object in my left hand. It sniffed me, uncertain. In a blur, my right arm was reduced to a stub at the shoulder, veins severed, bone exposed and bleeding. I froze, watching the creature lap at the wound as its size doubled. Did it feed on chakra? After a few seconds, it reverted to its original form, satisfied. I fell to a knee, my arm nearly fully restored as my chakra surged to replace the sudden loss. A jagged, teeth-like scar marked the site of the bite. Once ready, I rose to my feet, feeling sharper, more alert than before.

Weeks later, I entered another forest near my destination. My decision to watch the fight had cost me a month of travel, yet I felt no regret. I had new abilities—and a new companion. Did it have a name? My thoughts turned to my objective, though it mattered little.

As I walked, a man in blue came into view. He was picking plants, one eye hidden by dark hair. He froze briefly, sensing me. His golden gaze met mine, glancing at the sword in my hand. We stood silently for a moment before he spoke.

“What do you want?” His tone was flat, already prepared for combat.

I took a few steps forward, hands behind my back, testing him. He grew restless, eyes narrowing with each second.

“Utakata,” I said, a slight edge in my calm tone, “you have something that interests me.”

He raised a brow, removing the strange pipe from his robe and blowing bubbles into the air, which reflected the sunlight in a dazzling array of colors.

“Whatever it is, you’re not getting it from me.”

I tilted my head, smiling slightly, and everything around us ignited. His eyes widened as the bubbles exploded, leaving a thick smoke between us. I watched his chakra form weave through the smoke, trying desperately to escape the growing flames. His endurance impressed me, lungs burning from the dense smoke.

Moments later, I used a shunshin jutsu to appear in front of him, Chidori at the ready. Instantly, he transformed into a purple and black creature with six tails, eyes white and menacing. He lunged, tendrils reaching for me like desperate hands. I barely moved aside, then shunshined again, landing in time to see a log burn from the acid he left behind. A strong wind blew toward him, obscuring me from view.

The monstrous form receded as the moon began to cover the sun, leaving the man bloodied, burns across his body, and ragged breaths. I knelt, observing curiously, while the sword in my hand sniffed him before retracting, clearly uninterested.

“Don’t underestimate your opponent, Saiken. As for you…” My voice trailed as the genjutsu ended and the sun reappeared. “Your sacrifice is not in vain.”

I lifted him and drew a kunai, focusing on the seal. In moments, I found myself outside a massive door radiating protective chakra. Inside, numerous chakra forms hovered, one suspended in midair. All of them were powerful, sure to give a challenging fight if I desired. One rose higher before shooting forward, revealing a monster that nearly stole my breath—the very creature the masked man had spoken of, meant to help secure peace. So far, it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

Chapter Text

The door opened, revealing six figures standing in place. Each wore the same black cloak adorned with red clouds, and each finger bore a unique ring—symbols similar to those on the creature I had seen moments before. Could they be connected?

All but two of them appeared as purple and black forms, semi-transparent yet somehow present, with only their eyes clearly visible. One was particularly peculiar: a purple, trap-like form with a head inside it. The cavern they occupied was spacious and dark, with a strange red structure where the creature had been moments earlier—almost like a gateway to an unknown world.

One figure with strange eyes—purple, concentric circles shrinking toward the center—turned toward me. Metal adorned his face, likely for some jutsu. Yet something about him felt incomplete, though I couldn’t name what. From his posture, I knew he was wary of the unconscious form draped over my shoulder.

I stepped forward, only to be blocked by the man with red eyes, anger directed at me and the clearly alive sword in my hand. The sword moved, its mouth and nose emerging as it sniffed the air, detecting his scent before turning toward me. Without thinking, I nodded slightly, wondering what it would do this time.

It bit my entire left side with a loud snap and crunch, immediately growing a quarter of its size as it chewed thoughtfully. The sound of crunching bone echoed in my ears, though no one else seemed to hear it. My side gushed blood, organs threatening to spill, hip bone splintered beyond recognition, blood dripping onto the cold floor. It licked the wound for a few seconds before reverting to its original size, consuming the blood on the floor in a single lick. My side healed within seconds, leaving a grotesque scar of jagged teeth marks.

The red-eyed man suppressed a raised brow, mildly shocked. A few others in the room reacted similarly, though to a lesser degree. I sat down, letting Utakata’s body roll beside me as my chakra quickly restored itself. The man raised his head, apparently confirming a suspicion, understanding my interest in what had just occurred. So far, none had spoken, keeping careful eyes on me—a reasonable caution toward someone unphased by such brutality. If I were still the old me, they would all be dead by now. Yet here, these people were the strongest I had encountered; their deaths would serve no purpose.

“Saiken.”

The man with eyes similar to mine watched me intently, more than the others, as I gestured at the body beside me. The purple-eyed man approached Utakata, inspecting his wounds before turning to study me with intrigue. His narrowed eyes betrayed his understanding: the injuries were self-inflicted. A silent command seemed to pass, and the red-eyed man lifted Utakata, placing him in the center of the room where the dead body had been. The man with a mouth on his hand grinned.

“What do you want in return for giving us the Six Tails?” I felt my eyes begin to change as I spoke. The words carried a weight, giving me a satisfaction far beyond my first kill—like reliving the death of that man all over again.

“To join you.”

In the corner of my eye, I saw the masked man watching, smirking beneath his facade. Some glanced at each other before turning to the purple-eyed man, who stood deep in thought. He gave a barely noticeable nod, drawing a ring from his pocket. Its center was orange with three black stripes, glinting faintly in the dim light as it rested in his outstretched palm.

“Welcome to the Akatsuki.”

Chapter Text

It had been a few days since I delivered the Six Tails. During that time, I meditated on what the masked man had told me about each member before I arrived here—their power, their motives, and why they had joined such a notorious group of killers. One of them intrigued me above the rest; his watchful gaze remained vivid in my memory. Perhaps he could provide insight into the Hidden Leaf from his time there, knowledge that might give me an advantage if the situation arose.

It irked me to know that their former leader had hired this group on multiple occasions, yet had presented himself as a protector, virtuous and righteous. Every day, he blinded his people with lies, truths that few discovered until their deaths. Yes, Itachi would surely assist me in understanding just how unworthy of existence that village was. Now that I had been partnered with him, I would have time to ask whatever I pleased.

My thoughts shifted to the group of missing-nin who were relocating for the next sealing of a tailed beast, ensuring no interruptions, according to Itachi. I remained still, enjoying the silence the chamber brought. The two who had been with me had departed on errands unknown to me, leaving me alone in the vast room to reflect. Most of the others carried surnames tied to their clans, like unhealable brands. The more I considered their desertion, the more I understood: the villages and their people were unworthy of such power, and each person was right to betray those who had betrayed them, shunning them entirely.

The sound of the stone entrance opening drew my attention as a single set of feet crossed the threshold. His chakra levels revealed him before he took another step—unmistakable power radiated from him. Itachi passed me, stopping a few feet to my side, arm tucked inside his cloak. His gaze fell on the motionless body in the room—and me. A shadow of realization crossed his face, as if he already knew what I had done to the jinchūriki. I wondered what his conclusion would be.

I tilted my head, curious, eyes shifting to the prone form before me. How much did the mysterious man beside me know about our clan? Did he derive enjoyment from anticipating what would come next—what would befall the innocent man trapped in his own mental prison, forced to endure the beast’s pain alongside his own? Part of me wished I could save the man, yet another part knew his death would bring him peace. What was it like, being allowed to die?

Everyone assumed their positions, the two of us taking our cues. The purple-eyed man, Pain, performed a jutsu reminiscent of the one used to summon Takeshi. The same creature from a few days prior appeared, eyes closed. Its form was brilliant—the culmination of this world before me—but hollow. My gaze shifted to Utakata, encased in a blue, translucent fog. His body rose into the air, the creature’s chakra siphoning from him into the open mouth of the Gedo Statue. The scene looked excruciating, as though limbs were being torn over weeks. Yet in this case, I had a feeling it would take days.

I tore my eyes from the suffering man to the being looming above me. One of its eyes steadily opened, absorbing more chakra; its gaze was malevolent beyond anything I had ever seen, yet strangely beautiful rather than frightening.

What I guessed were days later, the creature’s eye fully opened, causing Utakata’s lifeless form to collapse to the ground. The creature absorbed the last remaining chakra, closing its maw as power pulsed through the room. Just before vanishing, its bloodshot eye locked onto mine, as if peering into my soul. With a roar, it disappeared, leaving a veil of smoke that gradually dissipated. Why had it looked at me? Was it trying to communicate?

Several pairs of eyes rested on me before the members vanished one by one, leaving only Itachi and me in the chamber. A sudden, painful ache tore through my head as I dropped to the ground, nearly toppling under its intensity. I clenched my teeth and pressed my hands to my head, vainly trying to heal it. Then, as suddenly as it had arrived, the pain vanished, leaving me on one knee with a grunt. I knew Itachi had witnessed the exchange between me and the creature.

I forced myself upright, swaying slightly. Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes, allowing one to bleed. The sound of something burning caught my attention. It dawned on me: I had set Utakata’s corpse ablaze in black flames, devouring it hungrily, leaving only a pile of ash within a minute. With a hiss, I opened my eyes, blood flow halting as my gaze met Itachi’s. His eyes narrowed, masking surprise behind indifference. When he blinked, his form was unstrained, his chakra flow far better than moments ago. Could he have been…? No, I would have noticed when I first saw him. Yet the look he gave silenced my doubts. What exactly had that creature done to me?

“You have impressive healing abilities,” he said, body relaxed. “Before that happens again, let’s get you something so you don’t starve yourself to death.”

I nodded silently, feeling my eyes return to normal. A voice in the back of my mind warned me that this would not be the last time.

Chapter Text

It took a while to reach the nearest town, a small village tucked deep within the forest. The entrance was unassuming, hidden by several massive trees. We stepped onto the grounds side by side, our cloaks brushing lightly in the breeze. I immediately noticed the peculiar inhabitants—their bodies resembled wood, some even had hair like branches adorned with leaves. My guard went up; something about them felt off.

My eyes drifted upward. Ninja lay in wait among the trees, headbands marked with slashes over their village symbols. Who were they expecting? And why allow us to pass? My question was answered as some of the villagers acknowledged Itachi with respect. But what were they doing here? Were the people in the trees guarding them—or something more?

The two of us approached a small stand with an odd assortment of food, unlike anything I had seen before. Itachi handed five circular items to the person in charge, picked up a few for himself, and seated himself on a flat surface beneath a tree. Observing the passersby, he finally handed me something that smelled of meat and bread. I nodded in thanks and took a bite. The flavors reminded me, disturbingly, of when I had set someone aflame and bitten into their throat. Itachi’s keen red eyes studied me, silently trying to discern which questions were worth asking.

“Who are you?” he finally asked. The question didn’t surprise me; anyone would want to know. Yet I, too, had been wondering. My own name had been given by a creature I had known only briefly. Where was it now? I answered quietly, my voice strained, “Masaru Uchiha.” Could I truly trust him? Thoughts of the masked man and his assurances of shared goals calmed my doubt.

Itachi leaned back against the tree, his gaze contemplative. Something lingered on his mind, beyond the question itself. A refreshing breeze brushed my skin, breaking the silence.

“Samehada is fond of you,” he said, nodding to the sword strapped to my back. “He’s always been very picky with his wielders. Where did you find it?”

I raised a brow. The creature had a name? I shouldn’t be surprised; surely, everything in this world had a name. What made me special to it—my chakra, perhaps?

“From an odd sword man. Blue man killed self.”

Itachi leaned forward, exhaling a deep sigh. Had that man been important to him? Minutes passed before he asked another question, one I knew he had been holding back. Did he wish he had found me sooner?

“Where have you been hiding?”

I tilted my head in confusion. Wasn’t it obvious?

“I wasn’t. Kidnapped, tortured, raised to be a secret weapon for the Leaf.” My throat ached from speaking so much, yet my chakra healed what wasn’t broken. “Escaped not long ago.”

A faint scowl crossed Itachi’s face, barely perceptible, tempered with a flicker of regret. I adjusted my new cloak, noting the red clouds stitched along the fabric. Were they a symbol of remembrance? A warning to onlookers? Itachi followed my gaze.

“Red moon,” he said quietly. “For the blood spilled in Amegakure during the war years.” I unconsciously combed my hair with my fingers, recalling the history he had just referenced. Another reminder that this world desperately needed peace—one that seemed perpetually out of reach.

Soon after, we set out on an assassination assignment for an anonymous employer. To my annoyance, even the messenger did not know their identity. That meant nothing to me; I could trace the line to the very top if I wished and determine whether their jutsu were worth my attention.

Our target hailed from Sunagakure, a missing-nin who had killed at least two hundred people, leaving corpses scattered with body parts missing, perhaps for later consumption. I found it baffling that no one had caught him—or even tried. The messenger had instructed us to keep the mission secret, to avoid alerting the village’s leader. From what I knew of him, he was far too soft, protective to a fault, letting killers escape without concern. Despicable.

We arrived at a suspiciously empty area, the target’s last known location. I closed my eyes, immediately detecting a lone chakra figure at the center, seated with legs crossed, hands resting lightly on his knees, as though oblivious to our approach. Itachi remained back, deeming him too weak to oppose the two of us. Samehada sniffed the air, recoiling as though offended by the scent.

I opened my eyes and stepped forward, ready to confront this man whose aspirations mirrored my own.

“They were weak. They deserved to die,” the man said, revealing himself. “You seem the kind to agree.”

Before I could respond, kunai embedded themselves into my torso. “Shame you have to die so young.” I tilted my head, unbothered, watching as my clone vanished into thin air. The man whirled around to be met with my eyes as his world melted around me.

I took a step forward, drawing a kunai from its hidden pouch beneath my cloak. The man didn’t move; didn’t even breathe. Without hesitation, I severed his arm. He froze in place, tears streaming down his face, frozen in raw terror.

“Your jutsu are… fascinating,” I said, my voice cold as he collapsed to the ground. “Do show me more.”

The world around us seemed to pulse, the dead landscape dissolving into the twisted corridors of his memories. He screamed in agony as I tore through his mind, uncovering not only his abilities but the abilities of others he had encountered.

One boy in particular caught my attention—bright blue eyes, hair the color of sand. There was something about him, a fragment of light in the darkness, that made me want to protect something… though what it was, I could not name.

It's a genjutsu, one designed to control another. Takeshi's distorted form flickered beside me, the man's screams having died out. It would seem this one was used to affect those with your eyes. My brows knitted together. If that was true, then who was it intended for? Takeshi splintered away as the world snapped back to reality. The man who had killed so many lay dead on the ground, limbs sprawled in multiple directions, mouth agape in mute agony, eyes wide with unexplainable horror. Another pulse shot through me, forcing me to my knees. My head throbbed like it had after sealing the Six Tails, only far worse and prolonged. Samehada nudged my side, a small comfort against the pain.

My vision splintered, eyes bleeding, and—like last time—the body before me ignited in black flames. This time, I restrained the blaze, leaving the torso and head untouched.

A sharp pain in my leg yanked me fully back to reality. My hands dropped to my sides—one landing on bone, the other on my mangled limb. I glanced down. My entire right calf had been bitten off. The crunching sound echoed in my ears. Samehada. Once again, it had siphoned a large portion of my chakra through my flesh. Perhaps it was best to let it continue; my chakra levels could become a hindrance if unchecked. Keeping the creature with me was prudent.

Itachi entered my vision, expression calm, though something lurked deep within the black of his eyes. What troubled him? Was it how the creature on my back interacted with me? Or the memories it had resurfaced of his former Akatsuki partner?

Before I could ask, a strange creature appeared nearby, carrying our promised compensation in its maw. I stretched out my hand as it dropped the pouch, then dove for the corpse, consuming it in one gulp. It glanced at us once more before disappearing. What an odd world.

Chapter Text

Our next mission took me by surprise. We were told to go to Iwagakure. It took us many months of traveling to arrive, having to avoid major routes and cities to stay undetected. Several clones of mine were sent ahead, each containing a fraction of my chakra in case a fight became unavoidable. What fascinated me was that Itachi had also sent out scouts in the form of flying creatures, which I learned were called crows. I wondered what else he had up his sleeve.

The sun was just setting as we found a well-hidden cave, camouflaged by moss and greenery. I stepped inside without regard for the traps set up—one foot was chopped off at the ankle. I hissed as I dropped to a knee, forcing my chakra to heal the sudden wound. A form appeared in my vision: a man wearing magenta pants and a shirt with a strange headpiece covering part of his face. His eyes were hardened yet kind, as if his life had been nothing but pure hell. He stood above me with his arms crossed, watching closely as my foot regenerated, leaving only a barely visible scar. Itachi remained back, clearly unnoticed by the man, who looked down on me as though I were nothing but trash.

With a growl, I rose to my feet, and the cave crumbled around us, leaving us exposed in the open forest. My Sharingan activated as he began forming intricate hand signs with lightning speed. To my interest, molten liquid spewed from his mouth and shot toward me. I dodged as a volley of molten rock bombarded the area. With a scowl, I raised my hand, stopping the rocks inches from my face as they hit an invisible wall. He had no time to react as I counterattacked with blades of water, one piercing his side to my satisfaction.

What happened next made me stifle a laugh—he went into form two, his body engulfed in molten liquid like a shield. Did he really think that would help him? Clearly, he hadn’t noticed my eyes—or didn’t know what they were. I struck him in the abdomen, blowing him back while ignoring the searing pain radiating through my arm as he crashed through trees. He tumbled to the ground, coming to a halt about thirty seconds later. I pursued him relentlessly, unwilling to let him leave my sight, as my newest wound slowly healed. A slight twitch of his finger was all I needed to know. I axe-kicked his spine, hearing a satisfying crack accompanied by a howl of pain. I knelt beside him and rolled him over face-first as the last of his power drained from his body. He made the mistake of looking into my eyes, immediately being thrust into an all-new world of hell.

His memories were fascinating. As I delved deeper, I entered the mind of the Four Tails. I was thrown back by the sorrow it held, the countless jutsu it had witnessed over its vast lifetime. I laughed with glee the second time I discovered such amazing abilities. The tailed beasts were a treasure trove of techniques, ones far beyond human comprehension. Hours seemed to pass as I lingered in their minds before stepping out to see Zetsu take him away, his broken form wracked with pain. It made me scowl, knowing I had once again harmed someone forced into a terrible life. Still, I was grateful for his sacrifice.

Itachi came into view, raising his hand to signify that the sealing was about to begin. I nodded, ready to take another step toward the elusive goal of world peace.

Chapter Text

I created a barrier to hide us from onlookers, completely concealing our signatures. After all, the next sealing of a tailed beast would occur soon. We quickly took our positions, preparing for the long process. Moments later, I was in the cavern, the unconscious Three Tails below me. So one of our members had captured another not long before the Four Tails, who lay prone as if waiting for his ultimate demise—not that he had much of a choice.

As for the Three Tails, it was far bigger than I had imagined, its body comprised mostly of a tough, spiked outer shell. Without realizing it, I had entered its mind through a glance into its barely open eye, immediately being thrown into a landscape of countless memories. I watched its most recent one: a fight between the man with the mouth on his hand and the masked man. Explosions filled the memoryscape, causing the surface I stood on to shake. Every once in a while, I saw another explosive jutsu performed, until it ended in black.

The memories went further back, and as I pushed deeper, more powerful abilities were revealed to me, including its own. A man in red armor forcing it from its home using a massive wood jutsu was the last thing I saw before being forced from its mind. Who had that man been? Why did he think he was allowed to strip this creature from its home? A low growl entered my thoughts—after all, this creature and I shared the same pain of being taken from our home and family. At least he was able to attain peace through death, and through it, peace for the world.

I came back to reality as some of the last remaining chakra left its body, leaving only a trace behind. I raised my head, noticing a member missing from our group—the one with the mouth on his hand. Was he killed by this creature? I would have seen it from his memories. Besides, that man was more than capable of holding his own, making it highly doubtful—even without going through memories. Something else, then; someone else had taken his life. Someone I had yet to come across, one whose power I wanted to witness for myself.

My thoughts ended as the creature was fully sealed into the Statue, not even its body remaining in the chamber. Immediately, we moved on to the next sealing, which took about a week to fully complete.

Soon after, the members flickered out one by one to missions of their own. The purple-eyed man stayed longer than the others. To my dismay, the pain in my head suddenly returned, causing me to fall to my knees where I stood, still connected to the Gedo Statue. Pain watched as I clutched my head, the agony having intensified from not a few weeks before. I returned to my body in the small cave I had created, realizing I was on my side and curled in a ball. It was pathetic—being so weak as to give in to a pain such as this.

It didn’t make sense, the increasing pain from the time I had made eye contact with the Gedo Statue. Did it do something to me that I couldn’t fight back from? Or did it want to awaken something inside me? As I focused on the possibilities, the pain began to subside, the dark walls coming into focus, along with the silence. I leaned up slowly, clutching my right side unintentionally as the last of the pain went away. Itachi came into view, what seemed like genuine concern on his usually unemotional face.

“That’s seven times in several months.” He said with a brow raised.

I grimaced, clenching my teeth as I looked at my blood-covered hand. A smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth, Samehada extending in front of me like it was trying to tell me something. The smell of blood filled the air, the source obvious to me from the red smudge on a few of Samehada’s scales. Unsure of myself, I extended the bloodied hand, hoping the creature wouldn’t eat yet another limb and leave another grotesque mark. To both our surprise, it nuzzled against my palm as if content for a few moments, until it reverted back to its other form. Why did it do that? Why suddenly act like it cared for more than just my chakra?

“Konoha.” I said with a questioning tone, causing my partner to ever so slightly lower his head.

“Man, red armor, took Isobu.” He sighed, clearly thinking of the right words to say. He knew far more than he let on, far more secretive than I initially thought. What did the Leaf do to him before his defection? Just how much guilt did he bear on his shoulders?

“That was the Leaf Village’s first Hokage, Hashirama Senju. The Three Tails was meant to be a sign of peace to Kirigakure.”

Hashirama—no better than the monster who had taken me from my home and family when I was still an infant. Hashirama, having no care for what would happen to the creature who just wanted to be left alone—exactly like the monster who tortured me every day for his selfish goal of me becoming the perfect guardian for the Leaf. Was the current Hokage the same, willing to trade an otherwise innocent life for her own selfish desires? Were all of the Kage like that? Furthermore, were the leaders in that village the same corrupt, self-centered fools?

My nails dug into my palm until I bled, to the point where Itachi grabbed my wrist and tightly squeezed it, the wound healing in seconds from my chakra. The look in his eyes was angry and frustrated, clearly finished with my actions.

“What’s wrong with you?” He asked sternly, directly looking into my eyes.

What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with this world, Konoha’s unworthy leaders who put themselves above their people, who lie and deceive to make their people believe in a false peace? With those who allowed our clan to be massacred out of fear of their overwhelming power?

I ripped my wrist from his grip with a snarl, wishing nothing more than to mutilate someone undeserving of life.

“They will all die,” I growled, “and I’ll make sure they suffer like I did.”

Chapter Text

I was left to my own devices soon after my outburst, forced to clear my mind of emotion and look at things as they truly were. Akatsuki’s members were dwindling exponentially, the sealing process taking longer with each one lost. A feeling of dread passed through me one night after the sealing of the Four Tails, almost like we were two of four remaining members. My mind went to the fools known as the Kage and their bloated egos. From rumors spreading around, there was to be a meeting of all five Kage in a few weeks—a meeting meant to decide the future of the five elemental nations. Yet, as I thought of ways to calm myself, there was one feeling that wouldn’t go away, like someone I knew was about to die.

My Sharingan activated, and I followed Itachi’s trail, dread spreading through me like a virus. He had taught me so much about this world, about himself, and about how unjust his life had been. His memories… part of them had been blocked beyond repair, with one major theme—someone by the name Sasuke, his only little brother. Regret and love were intertwined when he thought of him, like an unbreakable skull protecting the brain. What was that like, to have a brother? A family?

My actions that had led up to Itachi leaving began to weigh me down. What was this feeling called… regret—that’s it. But why would I regret being what I am? Perhaps I could ask him once I made sure he was safe. His loyalties to the Leaf confused me beyond anything I had known thus far. Having loyalty to people who betrayed him made no sense to me, especially for someone as smart as he was. Was it due to being born there? Plenty of missing nin had abandoned their villages, so what made Konoha any different? Was it due to him having been a captain in the Anbu? That wouldn’t explain his unwavering beliefs about his home village, about why it was so special.

My thoughts were interrupted when two forms came into view—one very obviously Itachi. The other was also an Uchiha, from his eyes… perhaps that person was the brother, Sasuke. I cloaked myself completely and stood still, able to hear Itachi’s every word. Every one of them chilled me to the bone as he bled before his brother, who looked on in complete hatred.

“Do you remember when we were young, little brother, the perfect night?” Sasuke stayed silent, chakra barely contained as he went in for an attack, only to be blocked and parried. He skidded a few feet before coming to a halt, a small trace of dirt in the air.

“We were very young; Mother had given birth to a child.” Sasuke’s eyes widened, confirming his brother’s suspicions.

“Mother let us hold him soon after he was born, one at a time.” A trace of a smile slid across Itachi’s lips, laced with regret and guilt. “I remember… he just stared into my eyes until I gave him to you. You were so excited to have a new little brother.”

My breath caught in my throat, and a tear ran down my cheek. How did he know of my earliest memories? His Mangekyō had already been activated; his twin had been killed in the womb. He had the mostbeautiful Sharingan I have ever seen. No, he couldn’t have known about that. How could he have known?!

“Then he vanished one night and was never found. I’m sorry for keeping this from you.” By that point, Sasuke had been cornered by a massive creature made by Itachi’s eyes—Susano’o. The creature melted away as Itachi slowly moved forward. He was about to die.

The pain in my head forced me to the ground as Itachi said four final words, words that were said as my forehead split open, pooling blood: “His name was Masaru.” Itachi poked his brother’s forehead before falling to the ground, the last of his life gone from his body. Sasuke fell out of exhaustion and landed next to his brother, unconscious.

I screamed out in agony. Something was growing out of my head as my brother’s words echoed in my mind. All this time, he had known exactly who I was without ever telling me. Didn’t he know that I had wanted, one day, to find them—to be a family again—that I had clung to those memories like a lifeline? Was that why he had been so careful with me, so protective? Blood clouded my vision, the agony more than I could bear. With one final glance at my brother’s body, I collapsed, ready to embrace the darkness that overtook me.

Chapter Text

I awoke in a dark room, unable to see a thing. Even chakra was hidden from me. My mind jumped to the last thing I remembered—the betrayal of my brother for not telling me the truth when he had had so much time to do so. Could it really be betrayal if he had thought it was best, if he knew I was there when he had told his brother about me?

Something brushed my hand—a hard, scaled thing. Samehada. It always knew when I was preoccupied with my thoughts, when I needed to be lifted again. Its presence reminded me that it was loyal to me, even if that loyalty extended from my feeding it. I took a deep breath, letting my thoughts flow as they came.

“I see you’re awake.” A voice broke the silence, one I knew all too well. “If I hadn’t found you and Sasuke, you’d be dead from blood loss.” My fingers twitched. Did he know the truth about my family as well?

“Whatever happened in that battle, it woke up a completely new Sharingan in you. I’ve never seen one like it before.” A new Sharingan?

“Rest, you need it. There’s something I’d like you to do when you’re healed.” The room went silent again, only for him to reenter from where he had just come.

“I see you’re awake.”

What is going on? The same scene played over and over, each time ending the same way as he vanished from the room. A voice entered my mind—welcome in my current predicament.

You’ve gained a power that no human has ever possessed, one only I am capable of—Ōtakemaru. I’m sure you’ve figured it out by now.

I needed to stop this loop, yet what confused me was how his voice kept talking as everything around me repeated countless times.

You must control it or be stuck here forever in these moments. You are the only one who knows of this repetition, the only one who ever will know. Focus.

I took another breath, feeling blood drip down my head. Ten, twenty, thirty times he came into the room—and then stopped. Was I free?

I forced myself to sit up, senses returning slowly but surely. A chakra form to my left caught my attention—the same from earlier: Sasuke. He was different, more powerful in his eyes. They were Itachi’s. With effort, I stood, Samehada leaping into the holder on my back without hesitation just before I walked through the wall. When I emerged on the other side, I immediately felt as though fire had burnt me, yet nothing happened. Amaterasu was somehow nullified—was that the power of my new Sharingan?

The teenager before me watched with wary eyes, unsure of himself despite his demeanor.

“So you’re who he talked about.” He said, hurt hidden beneath years of hatred. I nodded, leaning against the wall. This person was my brother—a concept that would take a while to get used to.

“I remember your eyes.”

He did?

“You were fascinated by the two of us, wanted nothing to do with our parents.” He tilted his head, hair shifting slightly to the side. “I expected you to be younger, not my age.” I raised a brow, knowing exactly why my body had changed—the amount of time I had been stuck in that loop had altered me in more ways than one.

I took a step forward with an extended hand, aware that he would notice the grotesque scars. He hesitated before extending his own, and as our hands connected, a volley of memories pelted my mind. They revolved around one thing: to kill his brother for killing his clan.

What? I let go and stumbled back, gripping my head. He wouldn’t have done such a horrendous thing without reason; it was to protect his brother, I knew. I scowled, hating that damned village even more. Sasuke had the same reaction, unfortunately having been forced to see my life and earliest memories. The look of utter hatred deepened, the need for destruction stronger.

“I will destroy the Leaf.”

We said it simultaneously. I grinned; we were so alike and so different, forced into a reality where we had no choice but to defend ourselves—or die. Where mercy was a weakness, friendship a hindrance.

What intrigued me about his memories was that same blue-eyed boy, who I now knew to be Naruto, the jinchūriki of the Nine Tails. The masked man, who had told me in secret that his name was Obito, walked into the room with purpose. His closed hand opened to reveal the red ring that Itachi had worn the entire time we had worked together. Sasuke took the ring with determination, putting it on and holding his hand up to look at it—a reminder of his brother. Obito watched for a moment before speaking.

“Take care not to lose this at our next objective. I do believe it’s time to make an appearance with our new organization.”

Chapter Text

Once we were ready for our mission, we left the confines of the dark area and stepped into the light of day. Three people were standing outside—two males and one female. The first man had orange hair, his posture radiating calm. Yet there was a monster in his eyes, one that yearned for bloodshed. The soft smile that crept onto his lips when he saw Sasuke revealed how protective he was, willing to go to any lengths for him.

The other male had blonde hair and purple eyes; strange, sharp teeth showed when he smiled brightly at Sasuke’s appearance. Still, he glanced ever so often at Samehada, clearly coveting it for himself. The female had striking red hair and unusual eyes; she seemed to be shivering, unwilling to look at me. Sasuke raised a brow at her.

“This is Masaru, a new member of Taka.”

He ignored her predicament, not batting an eye. Instead, he rested his forearm on the hilt of his blade, the orange-haired man raising a brow at his words, while the blonde gave a toothy smile. The redhead nodded, arms crossed, trying to stay warm.

“What’s wrong, Karin?” the blonde asked, scratching his head. She opened her mouth to respond and then didn’t, her words caught in her throat. The man looked at me and playfully said, “She’s a sensory type. I’ve never seen her react to anyone like this.”

In response, I hid all of my chakra, causing her to take a deep breath of relief. Even Sasuke relaxed slightly, his shoulders visibly less tense. Sensory… she must not be the only one with that capability. I knew from now on I would have to conceal my chakra completely to stay hidden from others of her kind. How many were there?

Their conversation became a mostly muted noise as I thought of how negligent I had been in this world—not taking into account trackers and sensory types, and how many already knew of my existence. I would never make that mistake again.

Soon, we arrived at our destination. Sasuke agreed to be the only one to reveal himself. If I could sense his chakra, what would it feel like? We took our positions. Sasuke almost immediately cut people down with his blade. I crouched on a wall, invisible to the eye, watching him slay one weakling after another. Why they even bothered to fight was beyond me.

As I watched my… brother kill without mercy, I began to reflect on the injustice he had been forced into, the reason for his hatred. We were alike, born into a world where so few cared for our existence.

Several pairs of footsteps caught my attention, headed toward us. I looked in their direction and was taken aback by the sheer power of one, then immediately disappointed at the anger radiating from him. One of the Kage—lightning-centered power and brute force. I smirked. He would be a fun little battle should my brother need my assistance.

The next few minutes passed quickly, resulting in Sasuke using his Susano’o to defend himself. The Raikage went in for a strike as his defense faltered for a split second—Sasuke was running out of strength, though he dared not admit it. I propelled myself forward and landed between the two, arms outstretched, taking the brunt of the massive attack. Lightning coursed through me like blood gushing from a severed vein. Surprise registered on the man’s face. He had no idea of my presence until now; not even his sensory type had been useful. He noticed the sword on my back, seething at his presence. Samehada wasn’t pleased at all.

I snarled as his arm tore through my abdomen, ripping through organs and breaking my spine, stopping just outside my back. Sasuke stood motionless for a split second before leaving with Karin to reach his objective. He must have thought I would die. The monster before me recovered from his shock, thinking he had killed me. How wrong he was.

Red and black coated my hand as I slashed off his arm at the elbow that had pierced me, a smirk tugging at my lips. The man stumbled back, gripping his bleeding wound in sheer agony.

“Fuujin.” The blood-red and black crept up his arm into his shoulder as I ripped out the half of his arm inside me and tossed it aside, my body healing instantly from the chakra he had given me.

“A forbidden and forgotten kekkei tota from an extinct clan—all five natures. Incurable.” I stepped forward, watching the once-powerful man collapse into nothing but a lifeless shell, his eyes turning grey. That man had really been a leader? He was weak, unworthy of his title or life.

A movement to my right caught my attention. A young man with red hair and a strange device on his back had been watching me, his expression showing helplessness as the once-overpowered man fell. I tilted my head, then tracked Sasuke’s chakra, leaving him to fight another day. Something about him—perhaps his pain, or the look in his eyes of years of rejection—made him worthy of life and another day.

Two forms nearby in a hallway made me nearly stop in rage. Sasuke struggled against a chakra figure, a fog surrounding him. His Susano’o was fading rapidly. I could tell he was in pain despite his composure, unwilling to relent. I pointed at him and saw a small portion of chakra in the form of a person—the chakra I had stolen from the dead Raikage—rush into him, reviving his power as he braced for another attack.

“I can use three chakra natures,” the woman in blue said, preparing an attack meant to kill my brother. I body-flickered in front of her, pure rage in my eyes, slashing her across the torso with the same technique from earlier. Frost permeated the walls, the temperature in the hallway dropping sharply.

“I can use all five,” I said through gritted teeth as she stumbled backward, clutching her wound. Her eyes widened when she saw me make eye contact.

“Impossible,” she choked out, falling to a knee, panting heavily. I growled, letting my chakra leak out for a split second. She froze in utter fear, suddenly terrified. This leader of theirs had pretended to be so high above others because of her supposed power—no better than the man I had killed moments before. She was pathetic, weak, and blind to her own delusions of grandeur.

“Fuujin.” Just like the Raikage, she went still, her eyes turning grey, horror plastered across her face. I didn’t hesitate, conserving her chakra for my brother, who had nearly reached the room holding the Tsuchikage. To my horror, he was caught in a sphere I knew all too well. Time slowed as he vanished from my sight, the old man victorious in his murder. My only living family had been killed before me—all because he wanted to force these pathetic leaders to open their eyes.

Just as I was about to use my Mangekyō on him, the masked man appeared, Sasuke slung over his shoulder. His next words filled me with pride as I body-flickered next to him, once again hiding my power completely. Those remaining all took a step back, the two Kage shaken to their core. Yet it was the red-haired one who seemed about to break. I wasn’t surprised. After all, he had seen the damage my one technique had done to two of his comrades, and the scar on me that would have killed anyone else.

I listened intently as the masked man explained his Eye of the Moon plan. Sasuke was sucked into his alternate dimension, presumably to heal alongside Karin. The plan was far more intricate than I had imagined—captivating. I lifted my head slightly in agreement when he said there was no hope in the world. He was right. Only the strong deserved to live; to attain peace, there had to be complete unity. Those who denied that need had to die. A smirk played across my lips as he declared the next step for the world:

“I hereby declare the start of the Fourth Shinobi War.”

Chapter Text

What was it like to have someone—a person who could be trusted with everything, who looked out for them no matter the cost? To have a friend to turn to in one’s darkest days, in complete torment? To be raised from that darkness into the light? Surely many people had that certain someone in whom they put complete trust, willing to go to the ends of the earth for them.

But what of the others? Those who give their trust only to be betrayed, humiliated, broken? Those are the ones fortunate enough to be exposed to reality—learning that no one can be trusted, no matter the cost. That only they can rely on themselves for meaning and affirmation. That true loyalty begins with unwavering loyalty to no one but themselves. Once obtained, would they be stronger and wiser than everyone around them?

So which one was I? Was learning of my brothers the turning point of my old ways, or did I simply learn to trust them due to shared blood? Was I willing to forsake my undying loyalty to myself to protect someone I barely knew? Or was it something more—loyalty extending to a part of me I had only recently discovered? Sasuke felt like a missing piece in my life’s unfinished puzzle, opening a path that could change my future in several unforeseen ways.

Itachi had done the same, opening my eyes to this merciless and selfish world. He had taught me to rely on myself, to keep myself in check despite wanting to kill anyone who got in my way. If not for him, I would have let my emotions rule me rather than logic and intuition—being blind to my own needs, unable to perceive things for how they truly are. Letting my power rule over me rather than me over it, becoming an unstable fool unable to grasp my place in the world. In the short time we had known each other, he had taught me more than he knew. I hoped that one day I would be able to express my gratitude.

I was interrupted from my thoughts as Obito and I appeared atop a stone sword on the long structure called Samurai Bridge. A deceptive aura approached, accompanied by two others—one of which interested me greatly. A growl rose in my throat, only to be silenced by Obito’s raised arm. His stern gaze told me everything I needed to know before I cloaked myself completely, chakra and body, despite wanting to ask my burning question.

“He’s fine; Karin is healing him as we speak. There’s something I need you to do while we wait for his return.”

Anger filled me when a man appeared, flanked by two guards, oblivious so far to our presence. I quickly phased to the other side of the bridge, anticipating the upcoming battle. The man with gauze over his eye remained unaware of Obito’s presence for only a moment, one of his guards sensing my temporary partner almost immediately as he rose from the ground. The leader retreated slightly to prepare his technique, not even watching as his guards were taken completely by surprise—I had knocked out the blonde sensory type.

The other man, wearing an odd mask, wasn’t so unfortunate; he had yet to be sucked into my hidden dimension. He remained still, trying to locate my position—but it was futile. I appeared directly in front of him, inches from his face, and looked into his eyes. I was impressed when he struggled momentarily before giving in; no one had fought my power successfully until now. His ability—strange creatures called nano bugs—consumed much of his memory, especially since his kind were rare even within his own clan. I smirked before leaving his mind, sending him to my dimension as I knocked him out.

The look of shock on the last man’s face was amusing. I could almost hear him wondering what had happened during those few seconds, where his two expendable guards had gone. He was shaken—though not visibly—by my sudden appearance, by the power leaking out of me like blood from an open wound. Beautiful. Threatening.

A wild grin spread across my face as my brother appeared next to Obito, fully rejuvenated and ready to kill.

“I’m fine on my own,” he said, stepping forward with hatred radiating from his being. He was different; I had never seen him so consumed by hate, not even when he fought Itachi. Pure, unadulterated hate—similar to what I felt toward the monster who had kept me prisoner my entire life. Yet it did not compare to what he felt toward that teen, Naruto; the need to kill him outweighed even the man before me.

The two of us body-flickered a safe distance away atop the sword again, out of sight from any potential onlookers, with a perfect view of the battle. As the fight continued, I became increasingly impressed with his power; his Susano’o became full after the monster said something to him. The monster below uncovered one arm to reveal several Sharingan, each in near-perfect condition. Rage boiled within me, despite Obito lowering his hand in a silent command to calm down.

I was glad he did, for the man used a technique that repeated endlessly. Sasuke, I knew, had the advantage, tricking him again and again into using stolen eyes that could not be used again. At one point, the man uncovered his right eye, drawing Obito’s immediate interest.

To my annoyance, once Karin had healed my brother, the monster somehow took her hostage. The look in Sasuke’s eyes and his crushing words to her revealed truths I could not help but admire. Even Obito seemed proud as she fell, slowly bleeding out.

I could barely restrain myself from laughing as the pathetic man slowly ran, my brother stalking him like a predator tailing wounded prey. After about a minute of tormenting him, we descended, completely blocking his path. Fear gripped him.

“I’ll be taking Shisui’s eye.”

Recognition twinkled across the monster’s face as he looked at me, almost as if he knew me. Then a devious smirk appeared—a smirk I wanted to rip from his face.

“Ka kept me updated on your training. Shame you killed him.”

If not for Obito restraining me with a raised arm, I would have torn him apart—a death more agonizing than that man’s prior torment. He pulled down his shirt to reveal strange markings; my body moved instinctively out of range. It happened before I could think: the eye was destroyed, and the man was dead. Obito silently fumed beneath his calm facade, while Sasuke took a well-earned breather.

It couldn’t end like this. That eye was essential to the Eye of the Moon plan; fate would be changed for the good of the world. I felt my forehead begin to bleed—they both noticed immediately. Then the eye on my forehead opened: Ōtakemaru.

The three of us stood around the man, blocking his path.

“I’ll be taking Shisui’s eye.”

I shot forward, phasing through him just as he prepared a destructive technique. My hand tore the Sharingan from its socket as I skidded to a halt, taking all of his chakra. Blood dripped from my forehead, partially blurring my vision, as the man clutched the empty socket—only to be pierced by my brother’s Chidori, finally ending his existence. His lifeless body tumbled to the ground.

My eyes drifted to the eye in my hand, silent thanks emanating from it. Obito outstretched his hand as I gave it to him, wondering what he would do with it as a sharp headache pulsed, blood wiped away with a single lick from Samehada’s tongue.

A pair of desperate footsteps caught my attention. Obito and I, having left the area, looked toward the end of the bridge. A pink-haired woman in a white cloak had landed there. Who was this? Their next interaction confused me—had they known each other? Sasuke positioned himself behind her, ready to strike if necessary.

Not surprisingly, the young woman hesitated, refusing to kill the redhead, proving Sasuke’s suspicion that she was nothing but a liar, not genuine in her claim to follow him. As he moved in, the sound of thousands of birds filled the air. A flash of white appeared above him, and, without thinking, I jumped to intercept him, forcing him back with a powerful kick. I stared him down, partially turned away from my brother, arms raised, growling:

“Don’t intervene.”

The next sound I heard was flesh ripping, followed by a grunt of pain. I saw the body fall in my peripheral vision, the horror in the man’s single eye. A chakra form blinked out of existence—one with untapped potential, much to my dismay. If only she had meant her words. The look in the white-haired man’s single eye told me enough: that girl had been important to him, like my brother was to me.

I jumped back and landed next to Sasuke, raising my head in silent question, concerned that my brother was hurting more than he let on. My head began to throb even more, chakra healing what didn’t need to be. Samehada curled around my torso, hissing at the stranger before us. It earned two surprised reactions—the least from my brother, who only stood still, shock and grief intermingling in the man before us. I smirked, ready for the upcoming battle.

Chapter Text

As the two silently stared each other down, I noticed something peculiar. A human-shaped form made entirely of chakra leaned against the side of the bridge, arms crossed, one eye glowing gold and the other light blue—just like mine. Its presence was cold, ruthless… and beautiful. It stared at the man in the white cloak as if ready to kill, then sauntered to Sasuke, resting a softly glowing hand on his shoulder. The effect was immediate; the stolen chakra from the man flooded into him like a waterfall, rejuvenating him for the next fight.

“…a lot of guys who feel the way you do. But it never ends well. Let it go. You’ve got to forget about revenge.”

To my amusement, Sasuke laughed—a sound so foreign for one so serious, booming in mockery of those words. Then he stopped.

“Itachi, my mother, my father… my entire clan—bring them all here to me! Do that and I’ll quit right now.”

The hurt, anger, and betrayal in his voice made me want to lash out. I hated knowing there was nothing I could do for him. He glanced at me as if to make sure I was still there, as if I would abandon him in this state. I would never do such a thing. The man noticed the interaction.

“I don’t want to kill you.”

A wicked grin plastered itself on my brother’s face, an insane gleam in his eyes—a feral animal finally set free.

“Do you really think you could kill me at any moment you wish? Stop acting like you’re still my sensei. Go ahead and try something if you like. I’m just itching to kill you, Kakashi.”

So this man had been a friend of his, a leader of a small squad. To think he could lead a team of people with such diverging interests was beyond me. Yet every word he had spoken thus far was laced with regret.

“Now I understand what the Third went through.”

He removed his cloak, determination sparking around him, and uncovered his other eye—a Sharingan I had seen many times before. It couldn’t be. How had he attained it? Was it stolen, like the ones the monster took from fallen Uchiha? That wouldn’t make sense—he was still alive. It had to be something deeper, darker, a secret devastating to his mind. But why was it given to him…?

“You’ll be able to tell him that yourself once I’m done with you.”

Sasuke charged with his Chidori, intent on killing his former sensei, throwing kunai and shuriken. The man made an earth-style mud wall before jumping out of the way in surprise, landing in the water below to regain his footing. My brother followed, murder the only thing on his mind. Something in the back of my head urged me to leave a clone for Karin—she would be important in the future. I did so, stepping over the edge, feet sticking to the side of the wall before standing still, cloak billowing in the sudden wind.

Sasuke’s Susano’o activated, and Kakashi’s eyes widened. That man wouldn’t have a chance to use his own. Using the creature looming above him, Sasuke aimed his bow and fired. The impact sent water flying into the air, creating a short rain; remnants of the shot lingered in its barely visible chakra. Sasuke panted. Why was he panting?

What happened next was expected; the man used his stolen Mangekyō to save himself.

“Sasuke, listen to me. More than just your clan is in you, more than just your hatred. Look deep inside your heart… one more time.”

Sasuke placed a hand on his hip, smirking as the blood from his eye began to dry. I suppressed a laugh. What kind of fool thought he could save him? My brother would never be tricked by that cursed village again. We had sworn to destroy it together.

“Are you really still going on about that?”

The man lowered his head slightly, a serious gaze entering his posture.

“I think deep down you know the truth.”

Sasuke’s face went flat, waves of anger radiating off him. What had they done to him? How much torment had those poor excuses for humans put him through?

“All the laughter. Not one of you wasn’t laughing.” He balled a fist, stepping forward, voice raised. “Itachi sacrificed his life, and you’re still laughing. Cackling together like fools! You’re just ignorant of everything!”

His Susano’o entered its final stage, letting out a bellow of rage. “I can hear nothing but contempt and jeering in your voices. I want to change those voices and laughs to screams and wails of misery!”

I grinned. Sasuke laughed again as the creature roared. “How about it, Kakashi? Can your borrowed Sharingan extinguish a power like this?! Now I’ll show you the difference between the real thing and a fake.”

I didn’t know his Susano’o was about to peel away into nothing, leaving him defenseless. I tried to move, but my body wouldn’t obey. My brother clutched his eyes in pain, having overused his power. For the first time in years, fear welled up inside me. Had I done something wrong? Had I not given him enough power?

The strange glowing form next to me shot down silently as I stood frozen, shaking. Even Samehada rubbed against me, trying to comfort me, reassuring me he would be okay. The glowing being stepped in front of Sasuke, arms outstretched, glancing at me for confirmation. I released a breath I didn’t realize I was holding, relieved.

Then, a flash of yellow behind my brother—a motion too fast for the naked eye. I mirrored the creature’s stance, blocking what would have been a devastating blow. A kunai raked across my throat, releasing blood into the water below. Moments later, I healed, ready to kill more than ever. That human—no, less than human—had just tried to kill him.

A quick look of astonishment crossed my brother’s glazed-over eyes before hatred replaced it.

The person with yellow hair jumped back, skidding to a halt on the water’s surface. My eyes narrowed at him: the teen with blue eyes and yellow hair. The same one my brother hated so much—Naruto Uzumaki, jinchūriki of the Nine Tails. How I wished to rip him apart.

Chapter Text

The three of them glared at each other until Kakashi body-flickered next to Naruto, my stance relaxing ever so slightly. We remained in the shadow of the bridge, they in the light, each aware of the precariousness of our situation. One glance at my brother told me his chakra levels were low… as were mine. Was that a drawback of Ōtakemaru? Did the two before us know who I was?

I heard Naruto murmur something to his sensei about someone named Sakura—the girl Sasuke had killed. Devastation washed over his features as his knees buckled, nearly collapsing if Kakashi hadn’t caught him. Tears streamed down the teen’s face. How important had that girl been to him? Watching him, I was reminded of my younger days, when I would cry at the smallest hurts, even a mean glare. Over time, the tears had dried, silenced by relentless agony; even my silent wails in the supposed privacy of my room had stopped. No one had cared—until Obito appeared.

So was Naruto’s grief, his tears, a deep-rooted loss, irreparable? Had I unknowingly felt the same about Itachi when he died, the grief too much even for a single tear? Why hadn’t I cried for him? Was I truly incapable of sorrow? I tilted my head as the teen wiped his tears, Kakashi’s own held back through gritted teeth.

“Why?” Naruto asked, fists balled, voice trembling.

Sasuke smirked.

“She was useless and annoying.”

“Sakura was our teammate!”

“Former teammate. Same goes for you two.”

I lowered my head, listening. He truly was ruthless.

“And by the way, Kakashi, Danzo—the one who manipulated my brother without a second thought—is dead.”

Why the surprise? That man’s fate was always to die by my brother’s hands, not some self-sacrificial, pathetic route. One less corrupt leader in a corrupt world.

My head began to spin; the chakra figure beside me trembled, on the verge of collapse. We needed to leave soon, though Sasuke, I knew, had no intention of doing so. I took a deep breath, focusing on the bridge above us, its swaying edges coming into sharp view.

A realization struck me: how I felt wasn’t due to overuse of my power. Flashbacks to my prisoner days surged—nearly killed on a daily basis, blacking out each time. I grimaced, foolish for not seeing it sooner. I had been careless.

“…I will destroy the Leaf!” His words muffled, distant, like sinking in an endless lake. “That’s my destiny!”

Everything moved in a blur. Obito appeared between us, aware of our predicament. Naruto’s anger surged, blood clouding my vision… then black.

When my eyes fluttered open, I was lying on a cold, hard surface—metal or stone. Why had my cloak been removed? A sharp pain shot through my head; I gripped the slab beneath me as it groaned in protest. Blood slowly dripped from my forehead.

A form came into view, white and purple blurring together, stars dancing across my vision. I closed my eyes, yet could still see it—a figure sitting, waiting. Another figure, wearing a strange mask, entered through the floor, clearly displeased with me.

You died, Masaru, before you could heal. Takeshi’s voice whispered in my mind. Your body isn’t used to this trauma anymore.

My breath caught. I died? That brat had killed me?

Be careful with Ōtakemaru. Overuse… and you won’t recover.

“Tell us, Masaru,” Obito said. Were they talking to me? What had they said? I raised a brow and opened my mouth. Nothing.

Sasuke leaned forward, elbows on his knees, saying something I couldn’t hear, before pointing at my forehead with a scowl. Did he want to know?

The glowing figure entered my peripheral, hand hovering above my neck, nodding slightly as my throat cleared.

“Ōtakemaru,” I said quietly, my body beginning to chill. Then a voice, not mine, spoke through me, shocking the three of them—especially the chakra figure, which recoiled as if struck. Takeshi.

Masaru is the only human capable of using it. Be grateful he’s on your side.

Sasuke growled; his Chidori flared. Obito lowered his head, preparing. Did they think I could be stopped in this condition?

You wonder, Uchiha, about the origin of your power. Humanity has lied to you; no human could create such an intricate masterpiece.

My arm moved of its own accord, one finger pointing to my newest eye.

Do not let his gift be destroyed.

I coughed blood, grimaced, then felt my body heal completely. My arm fell to my side, vision flickering black before returning. It felt like an eye meant to remain hidden from the unworthy.

With effort, I pushed myself up, arms trembling slightly. My black hair had loosened, falling over my face. I remembered the day I had first met a team of Leaf ninjas, my futile attempt to mimic their hairstyles. I must have seemed a lost, oblivious child. No wonder they hadn’t trusted me.

Obito handed me a long Akatsuki scarf. I took it, contemplating its use. After a moment, I tied it around my forehead, lifting my long locks like before. The extra fabric intertwined with my hair, barely noticeable except for the clouds embroidered on it. I exhaled, chest rising and falling. The room went silent aside from our breathing.

Thoughts clouded my mind, preventing even a moment’s meditation. Since when had I been unable to? What had changed? Emotions, foreign and unrelenting, had infiltrated me like water filling my lungs. I clenched my jaw. I needed to push them back, remain focused and ruthless as always.

Yet glancing at my brother, watching me with poorly hidden worry, I realized it would take far longer to become what I once was.

Chapter Text

                    One week earlier

I appeared next to Karin as the original stepped over the edge of the bridge. Would I ever return to him? With a sigh, I turned to the dying girl and knelt beside her on my left knee, a green aura surrounding my right hand as I placed it over her. She coughed up blood as her body slowly repaired itself, eyes shut tight. Did she know who was healing her? Did she care? I gritted my teeth, attempting to banish thoughts from my mind. My purpose was to heal her, no more and no less. A simple clone was made for one thing. Yet as I watched the girl suffer from the effects of betrayal, I wondered if that was true.

An explosion below me made my body go rigid; it was all I could do not to check what had happened, to make sure the original was safe. Who was I kidding? Of course he was. He always would be.

Karin began to stir, too pained to move. What was that like? She slowly opened her eyes and immediately recoiled as she saw who I was. I held back a chuckle at her situation; I could almost hear her thoughts, wondering why the enemy would heal her. Little did she know she never was—my only reason for being here was to ensure she survived. I leaned back on my heel, forearm resting on my knee, watching as she tried to make sense of the situation. Could she tell I was a fake?

“Their power… they don’t have enough for another fight.” I knew it too. The original had used too much.

“Why… why save me?”

I raised a brow. Wasn’t it obvious?

“You have something that will benefit Masaru one day. He finds you intriguing.”

Realization dawned on her face. Now she knew I wasn’t the real one, just a disposable copy. Not that it mattered. The original needed to be the only version of himself, rarely requiring any of us.

As I felt a blade cut into my throat, I thought of how lucky I had been to experience even a little of the world. Then I disappeared.

Present day

I opened my eyes to a new set of memories, ones I hadn’t expected. A metallic taste entered my mouth. How long had I been biting my lip? And when had I begun to feel pity, especially for those beneath me? I sat up slowly and was greeted by a white, disfigured creature, food in hand. With a nod, I took it and ate, not bothering to check for poison. Obito wouldn’t be foolish enough to harm me anyway.

As I chewed, I couldn’t help but wonder about Sasuke—whether his power had returned to normal. I clenched my fist. What had happened back at the bridge had been my fault. I should have realized we were at our limits. How much power did Ōtakemaru require? Did it relate to the forbidden technique as well?

The door to my room opened, revealing a man in a deep purple cloak and a white mask resembling a strange Sharingan that covered most of his head. To my surprise, it had two eye holes, and as I looked into the left one, I recognized Obito. A strange sword rested on his back—useless as a weapon, surely intended for something else. I tilted my head curiously as he leaned against the wall, arms crossed, deep in thought.

Without warning, he used Kamui on both of us. I barely had a chance to get to my feet as I entered his dimension, leaving Samehada behind to my chagrin. It was vast, littered with platforms and countless pits as far as I could see. As I scanned the area, my eyes landed on a single form bound to the ground. Their headband sparked my rage—a Leaf ninja. I balled my fist again, still tasting blood from before. Was my chakra still that low, even after a week?

“Do with them what you wish,” Obito said, standing back as if to watch me.

I lowered my head and approached the terrified person. Fear radiated from them—pure, unadulterated fear—as I placed my hand in front of their face to use a simple technique. Nothing happened. Out of chakra? In frustration, I grasped their head, covering their eyes as I squeezed in anger. I had limits, but had it always been like this?

My hand began to glow faint gold. The person screamed in agony. A twisted grin spread across my face as a faint buzz emanated from them. A shock ran through me, forcing me back as they slumped to the ground, blood gushing from where their head had been.

A small form next to me caught my attention—not human. Grateful, childlike, it bowed its head before walking straight through me, back where it belonged.

Another person entered my vision, then another. How many had Obito brought here against their will? The thought vanished as I moved to the next person, blood trickling from my mouth. My eyes glazed over with a growing hunger for power. Nearly insatiable. No one mattered—they were pawns in a larger game, disposable without thought.

Another wave of chakra surged through me. A shock, a muted pop reached my ears, barely registering—like the muffled screams of a hidden torture. My body moved on its own, focused on one thing. Something splattered across my face and body. Warm, smooth… and sweet. A tough outer shell cracked, revealing a soft substance between my fingers.

A glowing figure appeared next to me as another shell cracked, blurred like everything else. It pulsed with raw power. Familiar power. My breath caught—bridge memories flooding back. It was mine, undeniable. It placed a hand on my wrist, stopping me, faint and cold, signaling I had enough chakra.

I realized I was in front of Obito, hand outstretched, the rest of his world dead, corpses littering the ground. My legs gave way; I fell to my knees, vision and sensation returning. The figure knelt beside me, hand on my shoulder; I stared, wondering why it cared. I didn’t care if Obito saw.

Clenching my teeth, I looked at myself—eyes widening at the sheer volume of blood covering me. My arms were drenched in crimson. I could feel Obito’s gaze, ready to defend himself if necessary. Would I have killed him if that figure hadn’t stopped me?

A wide grin spread across my lips, followed by laughter, the same cold, merciless laughter I’d known in prison. This world was different—I could kill any shinobi I wished without hesitation. Had I… lost it?

Chapter Text

The two of us left his dimension soon after, my chakra quickly restoring itself to normal from the many people I had killed. The moment my feet landed on the cold floor, Samehada lunged at me, giving me barely enough time to dodge as a few of its scales cut my left cheek. To my surprise, it was Obito they were after. The man stood still as it flew through him and landed with a hiss, its scales like spikes as it bared its teeth.

I took a step forward, hand outstretched, ready to lose another limb if it meant Samehada knew it hadn’t been betrayed. Obito’s body flickered to the other side of the room, and he watched as it seethed for a few moments.

You left me! a voice in my head roared.

It could speak? If I had known sooner… I took a deep breath, forcing down my guilt as I responded. I would never purposely leave you behind. You have my word.

It shuffled up to me and bit off a finger, blood oozing for a few seconds before healing. Its scales retracted as it climbed onto my back, where it belonged—its home, alongside me.

“I have a mission for you. Sasuke has left on his own,” Obito said, gaining my attention. Sasuke was already healed? How injured had he been from his fight? Anger started to boil inside me, but it was cut off by Obito’s next words.

“I want you to go to the battlefield and learn from the kekkei tōta users. Consider it a stealth mission. And before you go, take this. You no longer need the one I gave you.”

In his hand was a ring similar to the one I was wearing. Its center was blood red, a mark on it that looked ominous—死神. Did that mean something specific? I took it from his palm and gave him the one I wore, wondering when it had been made.

“You’re fully connected to the Gedo Statue. Under no circumstance can you lose that ring. I’ll summon you when you’re needed.”

The landscape was destroyed. Corpses littered the ground, some freshly killed, others stiff and cold. I stood amidst the battle, watching as people who didn’t seem to have life of their own—summoned by a forbidden technique—attacked weaklings who promptly went on the defensive. A few clones of mine were spread across the battlefield, watching and learning.

Every former Kage impressed me with their power; their capabilities were fascinating. One caught my attention in particular as I hovered above the ground, observing every move. Then someone appeared—someone who had matured beyond the last time I saw him. Gaara. They fought as if their lives depended on it, speaking to each other as if they were long acquainted. Time passed, and the man was sealed within sand shaped like a female. The redhead’s tears made me realize he had just fought his father. Would I have the same reaction if I fought my brother to the death? I forced the thought from my mind as I turned to leave, the collective gaze of myself and my clones straining under the flood of information.

I dispelled my clones and landed on the ground, careful not to disturb the wounded around me. To my surprise, the young man turned directly toward me, readying his sand as if to attack. I clutched my left eye, feeling blood on my hand. Why now, of all times? Had I been in full view of him? Had I failed my mission?

A strange feeling washed over me, one similar to what I felt before Itachi died. Without thinking, I turned right and ran as fast as I could, allowing my chakra to boost my speed. I passed many fallen people, even some as they were sealing a few reincarnated ninjas—I killed them as I went by, no one knowing what had happened other than a few threats now free to continue their carnage.

As I ran, I came across a familiar pond, its surface partially covered by a barely visible layer of frost. A chill ran up my spine, causing me to shiver. This was where my new life had begun. A quick glance into the water showed me what my Ōtakemaru looked like before I forced myself to continue toward where I was being drawn.

Within minutes, I reached the outskirts of a large city with odd carvings of heads in the rock looming above it. I followed the trail, ignoring the stares of the citizens. A few wore headbands with a swirl—I restrained myself from killing every Hidden Leaf resident. That could wait. A few bold enough to challenge me quickly cowered under a hateful glare. I could only imagine what their leader was like.

Soon, I arrived at the entrance to a cave. Pure, familiar power radiated from within. I stepped inside without cloaking myself, only to see a man, snake-like, standing as if in a daze. Then I saw them—my brothers. Itachi smiled at me sadly as he began to wither away, speaking to Sasuke in words I couldn’t hear. A bright light filled the cavern as he disappeared, leaving the two of us in silence. Had he known what I wanted to tell him? Was that smile one last apology, one last way to show he cared? My left eye bled slightly before I felt it change, as if witnessing my eldest brother for the last time had altered it.

Sasuke turned to me, tears running down his face, an expression akin to discovering a new place in the world. Surprise flickered across his features before he smirked.

“Looks like your Sharingan upgraded, brother.” He clenched his jaw before continuing. “I will protect what Itachi fought for.”

Anger coursed through me, though I didn’t show it. He wanted to protect the same village that had betrayed him, that had tortured the both of us? The same village that hated and betrayed us?! We made eye contact, a tear of rage falling down my cheek, as a single word popped into my mind—one I never wanted to use on my only brother, one I knew would change his destiny forever and for the greater good: Kotoamatsukami.

His demeanor changed subtly, amusement flickering across his face. He chuckled lightly, making me nervous that it hadn’t worked.

“Who am I kidding?” he said with a grin. “The only way to protect them is to annihilate them completely. Their screams of agony will be like music to my ears.”

Chapter Text

What was this feeling? Did it involve what I had just done to my brother? Why did it feel like what I had done was wrong, like I had completely changed his fate? As if I had torn him away from a future full of happiness in place of one he was destined to have—one that he was worthy of? He had to complete that lifelong mission of his: to destroy what had taken everything from him. Why change that?

My body instinctively moved in front of him as a wall shattered nearby, forcing me from my thoughts. A few pieces of rock embedded themselves into my arms and torso. My jaw tightened in pain as blood dripped onto the floor. Two forms entered my vision, ones I recognized immediately. A deep breath escaped me as Suigetsu and Jūgo stepped through the hole.

Without paying them attention, I began to remove the shards and let them fall to the floor, my wounds healing slightly slower than usual as the three conversed. How much chakra had I used to reach this location?

A rolled-up scroll in Suigetsu’s hand caught my attention. My brother took it and opened it, a smirk forming almost immediately. I could tell Suigetsu grew uncomfortable from that single small act.

“Looks like we have a change of plans, brother,” he said, the two exchanging confused glances. I raised a brow, curious about the odd markings on the scroll. It’s a summoning technique. Samehada hissed to me, its scales ruffling in excitement—one meant to change the course of the war in that boy’s favor. My eyes widened at the thought. Suigetsu pointed at my eye as if in mock surprise, his face deadly serious. “Well, that’s new.”

Our short mission returned us to the same cavern, Jūgo carrying the body of someone who would revive an important person. I watched with interest as the jutsu was performed. A strange person rose slowly from the body, their black hair covering their face. Suigetsu immediately moved to the other side of the room, as if afraid, while the rest of us stood and waited.

The person stepped forward once, an unnaturally long tongue flicking from his mouth. He straightened and made direct eye contact with me, grinning almost like a predator. My eyes narrowed, my body readying for a fight.

“You have a very unique kekkei tōta. To be able to copy other kekkei tōta is unheard of.”

What?

“That’s not important at the moment,” Sasuke said, crossing his arms. Their conversation muted as my thoughts ran rampant. Is that why I had been tasked with watching the most powerful on the battlefield? Why was I so valuable to Obito? Was I being used as a pawn this entire time to curve the tide of the war?

Relax yourself, Samehada said. You’ll know soon enough.

Before I knew it, we were headed back to the Hidden Leaf Village, our cloaks hiding us along the way. We ended up at what I was told was the Uzumaki Shrine in the dead of night. All five of us entered, my guard raised exponentially in this deplorable village. It was all I could do not to turn around and slaughter everyone like I desperately wanted to. I would have time for that once the war was over. Killing the weak who didn’t deserve to live was nothing new to me.

Hand signs were quickly formed by the odd man, though no words registered. Perhaps… perhaps a slaughter was what I needed to better myself, to become what was necessary in this war. Once I got to the battlefield, it would be a killing spree for me.

Again, I was interrupted from my thoughts as four people were created before me, their skin cracked in places. Each was so different, so despicable for deciding to be the head of a corrupt village—willing to sacrifice its people, to murder them in cold blood.

One of them made my blood boil, my anger barely contained. His red armor, long black hair… Hashirama, the First Hokage. I hated him. All of their words were muted, his smile and laughter hiding his true nature—ruthless toward those he deemed tools.

I felt a pair of eyes on me, watching. One so full of contempt for my clan. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, allowing myself to hear their words now that I was focused.

“Young man,” one of them said. I turned my head slightly to the right in his direction, only just realizing I had been digging my nails into my palms, drawing blood, as per usual. His eyes were piercing blue, like the clear sky with the sun shining, his hair a field of gold shimmering from that same sun. Minato, the Fourth Hokage. His expression was kind, paved with hidden regret that no one else saw. Why was he looking at me like he cared? As if he pitied me?

The two on my left only showed poorly hidden disdain, especially the one with facial markings—Tobirama, the Second Hokage, Hashirama’s brother.

“What’s your name?”

I gritted my teeth, jaw tight. My right eye flickered to my Sharingan for a split second before reverting to gold. The one next to the man in red armor glared at me even more.

“Masaru Uchiha,” I said, fighting back my anger once again.

The oldest man’s eyes widened briefly, slow enough for me to notice. The blonde raised a brow, obviously recognizing the oddity.

“What’s wrong, old man?” Guilt. That was it. Shame. Regret. What could he regret so deeply that he died with it, unable to forgive himself? That no one else knew about? A choice that ate him alive, perhaps told only to a trusted few?

Suddenly, it dawned on me. I began to seethe, chakra leaking for but a second. Everyone went rigid—but Sasuke. Hashirama’s silly demeanor vanished, replaced with calm, battle-hardened seriousness, as if ready for a match that could end in bloodshed. Not that he could touch me, let alone hurt me.

“You knew, didn’t you?” The old man didn’t look at me, eyes averted. “You did nothing to stop them.”

I continued, gaining everyone’s attention. My heart raced, my body rigid. “You gave the order, didn’t you? To have me taken from my home? Raised by a maniac who tortured me—all in the name of making me a slave to the Leaf?!”

I felt a hand on my shoulder just as my Amaterasu almost activated. It was Sasuke.

“He’s going to suffer with what we’ll make him do. Calm down, brother.”

The Hokage all gasped. My mind reeled as I closed my eyes with a nod. A barely audible huff came from my left; Orochimaru was clearly fascinated by the new information. Minato raised his brows, trust broken like a skull crushed underfoot.

“The Uchiha curse of hatred has taken you over, hasn’t it?” Minato said dejectedly. Tobirama scoffed. “Obviously, Fourth. He’s one of them.”

In a split second, I stood in front of Tobirama, arm through his torso, forcing myself not to waste chakra.

“And you’re a corrupt Hokage who gave the order to separate my clan due to fear of our power and the false assumption that one of us had summoned the Nine-Tails. Pathetic.”

His memories were clear as day—it was his doing that made my brother kill my clan. The next second, I stood beside my brother again, calmed from having harmed the fool. The poor excuse of a human. His brother looked at him, displeased, jaw clenched, eyes sorrowful. Minato seemed regretful—not for what he did, but for what had been done by someone else.

Would he be willing to change it all? As if he had heard my thoughts, he slightly nodded without realizing, confirming my suspicion. Were we connected somehow? The thought didn’t make sense. He meant nothing to me. I couldn’t help but eye him a second longer than I should have, watching him closely. This man… it seemed he was one of the few who deserved to live. Unfortunate he wasn’t alive.

Orochimaru spoke of the beginning—Phase 1 of our plan. Only three of us would partake in the bloodbath. There was one thing I wouldn’t allow: Minato to join us. He didn’t deserve to be crushed by taking part in the destruction of what he cared for.

Chapter Text

All of us left the room and ended up atop those same stone faces. The cool air was welcoming against my skin; I could feel my hair swaying in the breeze. I ignored the sudden ruckus behind me as I spoke words filled with bloodlust, knowing the Third would be crushed to the point of no return:

“Orochimaru, the Third will be the one to destroy the Leaf alongside a clone of mine and Sasuke’s. We’re needed to turn the tide of the war, after all.”

My clone appeared next to me, possessing only one percent of my power. “Reduce this village to dust. Leave no one alive.”

The battlefield was in ruins once we arrived, the three Hokage sealed for use later. A roar permeated the air, sending chills down my spine. Somehow it reminded me of a time more than a year ago when I had recently entered this new world. I grinned in anticipation at the thought of seeing it again. Would it remember me?

The blood everywhere made my bloodlust grow, and my chakra suddenly surged exponentially. My clone executed its task efficiently—and then I gained its memories: people begging for mercy who didn’t deserve to live, the few remaining shinobi slaughtered, their chakra absorbed by me, the Third mindlessly killing and destroying. These new memories were intoxicating. Something in me snapped, as if the second-to-last cord of sanity had been broken. Perhaps that was why my chakra had returned.

A strange purple monster not far from me caught my attention; an unknown, unspoken voice urged me toward it.

“Cover ground by splitting up. Let’s kill everyone who gets in our way. Orochimaru, wait for my signal to summon our Kage.”

I ran toward the odd purple creature, Sasuke close behind. Why follow me? Then I realized he was heading to someone specific—a long-time rival—before changing course to stand next to Obito. It was clear that he and Naruto were staring each other down.

We arrived at the battle between the now-unmasked Obito and several others covered in orange chakra. One person in particular was the same scum who had dared to hurt my brother, the one in control. Without thinking, I shunshined to the purple creature—the Eight Tails—and landed on top of it, placing a hand on its head before shunshining next to Obito. I felt strange, as if my power had somehow improved with that single act. Obito smirked darkly. I wasn’t surprised.

A voice behind me caught my attention, filled with authority and power. “Who might you be, young Uchiha?”

I turned to see a man with long black hair and red armor, holding Obito’s odd weapon. His eyes mirrored mine, Sharingan activated. I answered flatly, uninterested in formalities. Behind him, the statue that held most of the tailed beasts roared as a black ball formed in front of its mouth.

The man lifted his head in interest as I turned to face my countless, mostly weak enemies. A few caught my attention, piquing my curiosity about their power: Naruto, the Nine-Tails glaring at me; two men in green; the Eight-Tails and its jinchūriki. I tilted my head, ready to fight them all.

The man in red stepped between Obito and me, Sasuke on my left. The power I felt from all three was undeniable as the black ball above us shot forward, fragmenting into smaller balls each moving in different directions. I watched in fascination as the orange chakra dimmed, people displaced in time as if everything had sped up. I didn’t realize I was hovering above the ground. The statue behind me exuded different, more potent energy. My brother and Madara were on the battlefield, killing mercilessly. Obito fought Kakashi, and just as a black ball from the statue neared the ground, he locked eyes with me.

A volley of memories entered my mind, forcing themselves past my walls into a place I didn’t recognize—a place tied to me. I watched as he visited my prison multiple times when I was young, unconscious from wounds. He took me from that prison into the real world for one reason only: to make physical contact with as many tailed beasts as possible. A white Zetsu held me the entire time. I had been there when the One-Tail was sealed, unconscious, then brought back until another beast was to be sealed. Somehow, I had made contact with the Third despite being fully aware of myself when I had been with Itachi.

His voice echoed in my mind, filling me with doubt and rage: “All that’s left are Eight and Nine. The plan will be set in motion soon.”

Why had he taken me without telling me? Why not rescue me from that dreadful place? Was I a pawn the entire time? The rest of his memories were full of betrayal and pain, of using others for his own plans. Of Kakashi killing the one he loved. Not that it mattered now. I had a new mission—one that involved the final beasts.

I returned to reality, impaled with several swords, blood dripping to the ground below, Samehada growling in anger. My blurred eyes focused on a man with odd coverings over his eyes, a powerful entity within. He watched in stunned silence as I pulled the swords out and threw them to the ground, wounds healing instantly. Had he really thought he could kill me?

Lowering myself to the ground, dead eyes fixed on him, I felt the fear radiate off him. He wasn’t my target. Nor did he have time to react as I rushed forward, Samehada in hand, teeth bared. I left a clone in my wake and appeared behind him. He would die here and now.

The creature inside him took full form as my clone and the real Samehada tore chunks of flesh from his body. His roar of pain made me laugh. What a shame that he was willing to protect his host. I jumped back and dispelled my clone, power brimming inside me once again. My hand, bearing the new ring, raised without my realizing it as the beast’s chakra flowed into the statue. No one would stop me—not even the most powerful being on Earth.

Three clones appeared around us, keeping the lowly shinobi from interfering. Those foolish enough to challenge me were killed almost instantly. Two individuals were especially adamant about reaching me. They wore similar clothing, held similar power, their brows unnaturally thick. Many wanted to stop what was inevitable. Most died to my amusement.

“You will not take him!” The older of the two in green shouted. “Our youth will stop you!” the younger yelled.

I raised a brow through one of my clones. Suddenly, they exploded with power, as if a wall holding it back had broken. I clenched my jaw—one more minute. I summoned five more clones as two were somehow defeated. Who were they? Time seemed to slow as the two doubled their power, their forms glowing. I scowled. Thirty seconds later, another clone fell, their power returning to me, stronger than before. Ten seconds passed. Another clone down. Were they attempting to weaken me by overloading my clone technique? They spoke the words “Seventh Gate.” Another clone fell. Three, two, one.

I turned to them and grinned maliciously as the last of the Eight-Tails’ chakra entered the Gedo Statue. They had failed. I saw it on their faces—the jinchūriki collapsed, dead. They stood in defeat and shock as I knelt before the body, closing his eyes.

“Thank you for your sacrifice,” I whispered as the body was set alight in black flame. Samehada nudged him one last time before the corpse was completely engulfed.

Did I truly do the right thing? Were the deaths of innocent people, forced into solitude, worth it? My eyes trailed across the battlefield to land on Sasuke. I knew the answer. Nothing would change what had been done. All I could do now was collect the final piece and finish the plan, whatever the cost.

Chapter Text

I rose to my feet, prepared to battle the two in front of me. Their power decreased by the second, clearly having used too much against my clones. My hands rose to my sides as I took in the sounds of death, the cries of pain, the pungent smell of blood. Comforting.

A few muted words passed, my body moving on its own to dodge an attack. A grunt of pain, a snap. I came back to reality to find myself between two people—one who had appeared without my knowing. The blonde who had killed me, who had tried to kill my brother. The younger one in green had been moved a short distance away to heal his broken leg and arm, blood slowly oozing from his shoulder. I licked my lips, tasting unfamiliar blood. He had potential beyond what he knew. Shame he was an enemy.

I turned to Naruto, anger radiating from my being; I could feel myself on the brink of losing control. A third person appeared beside me, placing a hand on my shoulder.

“He’s mine, brother,” Sasuke said, activating his Susano’o. I grimaced slightly, his glare keeping me from giving in to my urge to strike. Naruto looked shaken, as if the creature inside him prevented him from breaking. It was curious how, even in his state, he refused to make eye contact with me—like the fox had somehow warned him of me.

I raised my open left hand to the sky, watching in my peripheral how the bright figure next to me did the same. My chakra—the one thing that would never leave me. With a smirk, we clenched our hands at the same time, lightning flashing instantly. A voice spoke in the back of my mind, words I couldn’t understand, almost like a foreign language.

Minato appeared next to me as the other three spread across the area: Hashirama and Tobirama amidst the strongest of the Allied Forces, the Third among those he had once held dear. Laughable. His soft gaze widened at the sight of Naruto, his only son, who wasn’t moving an inch. Even the fox was stunned.

“Dad…?” he said, tears falling. I tilted my head before snapping my fingers. The man vanished in a flash, reappearing seconds later to take out the man in green. Minato seemed secretly grateful not to have to kill him, giving an unspoken thanks as he rose to his feet. He stood for a second, his cloak moving in the sudden breeze of a nearby explosion.

As Sasuke attacked Naruto out of nowhere, I had the chance to observe the man who had given his life for his son, for an undeserving village. No one dared approach us as I shunshined next to him, ready to answer his burning questions.

The man took a deep breath, looking up at the dark sky. Rain clouds finally released their volley, crying for those who had been killed.

“Why do you leave only me with my will partly intact?”

I exhaled without realizing I had been holding my breath. That wasn’t what I expected. Why ask that?

“You’re the only one worthy to keep it,” I said. His face softened, a small smile playing across his lips. His eyes held pain he never deserved, hidden beneath kindness few others in this world possessed.

“That’s not the real reason, is it? You have the ability to copy kekkai tota, yet you prefer to use me. Why?” My face twisted in confusion. Why had I done it? The more I dwelled on it, the less it made sense. Why leave just him? Why give him hope, as little as it was, to leave him with his thoughts, to be able to speak with those around us? I bit my lip, drawing blood again—a habit I’d learned to anchor myself in reality. But what was reality? With my power, reality could be anything I wanted it to be. This war could be over, this world under a guise of peace of my making. But what was peace? A concept I had never had the privilege of learning. This man before me… could he be—

An explosion to my left yanked me from my thoughts, far too close for comfort. Minato jumped aside just as another explosion went off nearby, the intense heat burning my skin before my Susano’o activated. Both of us searched for the source, eyes resting on a single red-clad figure in the distance. How? How could he have been freed from control? Minato scowled, ready to fight to the death—and so was I. Was that what he wanted?

An enormous wooden creature appeared on the battlefield, its skin now marked with strange patterns. I glanced at Minato before sealing him back into the scroll I had stolen from Orochimaru, not wanting the already-dead man harmed. Then, with anger I had restrained for years, I stepped forward, Susano’o fully formed, hands outstretched in confrontation. Three clones appeared around him, all with activated Susano’o, while a fourth stayed near my brother to ensure his safety. With a growl, I charged, my clones each using techniques that would render his chakra useless.

The first was Toyokumono, a long-forgotten technique that temporarily increases maximum strength twentyfold. The second, Uhijini, a forbidden method that stops time momentarily for one person while allowing them to feel pain. The third, Suhijini, another forbidden technique, converting all of one’s chakra into searing agony. He was done for.

With a crack of my index finger, my clones and I tore through the enormous wooden being as if it were nothing. My Susano’o shredded it, stealing immense chakra, leaving it to vanish. The shock on the man’s face, his eyes wide and mouth agape, made me chuckle. The man once known as a god among shinobi was nothing compared to me.

He barely had time to dodge a midair attack before countering. We landed across from each other, my clones having served their purpose as chakra filled me once again. Our hair flickered in the gust of wind from another explosion aimed at the useless people on the battlefield. The man coughed up blood, clutching a hole in his ribs. How could he still fight?

The answer came as his less-than-human brother appeared beside him. Pathetic. I laughed as the First fell to a knee, blood dripping onto the ground. Orochimaru would suffer for turning them against me—not that their presence had been necessary. My laugh died down to a tsk of annoyance as a smirk played across Tobirama’s merciless gaze, like he had found a way to defeat me.

I took a step forward, then fell to my knees, coughing up blood. Samehada hissed at the man, my Susano’o flickering briefly. My left hand went to my right waist, feeling nothing there. I groaned as the wound healed seconds later, leaving another scar. The chance of a corrupt man like him defeating me was impossible.

“You truly think you have a chance?” I said huskily, wiping the blood from my mouth with my right arm.

The next moment happened in less than a second. He didn’t have time to react, despite being known as the fastest shinobi to live. My entire right forearm tore through his ribcage, chakra figure entering him completely. My arm was coated in a mixture of Fūjin and the nano-bugs I had obtained weeks earlier. I grinned wildly as most of his body crumbled to ash.

“Oyamatsumi,” he gasped, chakra pooling into me, his soul being pulled from his body like flesh torn from its host. His refusal to leave his body made it all the more satisfying as his eyes widened in fear.

“Who are you?” he asked, gasping for air, suffocating in agonizing pain. It didn’t surprise me. Having a soul ripped from one’s body was the most excruciating pain imaginable.

Chapter Text

I remained standing as the monster crumpled to the ground, grasping at his chest as if searching for something no longer there. His breathing was labored, blood pooling from his mouth, his reanimated skin slowly withering away. A sick satisfaction filled me as he fell to his side, pain wracking his features. Pain he deserved.

He looked at me with hatred and disgust, mouth agape as if to speak, yet only a gurgle escaped. A chuckle left my lips as his body went still, wasting away before my eyes. Only a few sorrow-filled sobs reached my ears before the First foolishly tried to rise, poorly attempting to fight the inevitable.

I looked to the sky as rain began to fall. The cold droplets against my skin were refreshing, a flash of lightning splitting the clouds as thunder drowned out the sounds of battle. It was beautiful. The rolling clouds, the sudden bursts of light across the darkened sky—despite it still being day—felt almost like an omen, a herald of victory. A tear rolled down my cheek, washed away by the rain. For a moment, I was reminded of my life as a prisoner, trapped in gray, dull days of suffering and loneliness, never knowing the simple beauties of the outside world. The storm held secrets, mysteries that no one would ever see.

But my reverie was cut short. A grunt, the clink of metal, drew my attention. With a hiss, I struck, severing his legs with two spikes of an unnamed jutsu. I laughed as his jaw clenched, eyes squinting, breath hitching—his legs flying before disintegrating into the rain. When he looked at me, it wasn’t with anger, but with sadness, regret. As if he bore responsibility for what the village had done to me. I growled. I didn’t need his pity. He deserved death, for starting a selfish village that destroyed its own.

I stepped forward, cracking my knuckles, preparing for his unceremonious end. But for reasons unknown, my body froze, as if caught in an unseen trap. I clenched my jaw, eye changing as I laughed maniacally while the First was engulfed in black flames. Nothing would stop this—his death, his suffering, his soul consumed like his brother’s.

I raised my head and froze. Madara stood before me, arms outstretched. My Susano’o flickered, my eye bleeding. Rage surged. Why had he betrayed our agreement? Wasn’t I essential to his plan?

Then the rain stopped. Silence fell. Beside him, Naruto stood in sage mode, power radiating from him. The need for retribution in his eyes was nauseating. And near him… my brother. Our eyes met, tears refusing to stop even as I stood silently. He simply rested his wrist on his katana handle, watching me with pain-filled eyes.

I went numb. A tingle spread through my feet until I felt nothing. All I could do was stare in disbelief. Why? What had changed? Had my genjutsu failed? He looked regretful, like he had broken an unfixable trust. In my peripheral vision, Minato stumbled, a Sharingan glazing his eye. Was that why my brother had turned against me?

“We can fix this, brother,” he said cautiously, stepping forward. I was so transfixed on his words, on the hope they might be true, that I didn’t notice the two in green joining them.

“You turned against me,” I whispered, tears halted as feeling returned. Rage coursed through me. “What is there to fix?” A hollow chuckle escaped, eyes glazing over. Something inside me snapped; my body reacted unnaturally. My arms darkened with strange markings, my breathing quickening.

“People like you, who seek only destruction and pain, could never have been happy,” Naruto said, tears streaming. “You never knew friendship or family. I’m sorry… but I swear I’ll save you!”

I stiffened. A blast of pure chakra radiated from me.

“Never knew family…” I whispered, swaying, hand clutching my left temple. “Never knew happiness… your village took that all from me!” I yelled, arms raised in wrath. They tensed, readying for an attack, yet Sasuke remained unmoving, Sharingan fixed on me. Why?

“You tortured me every day, killed me, left me to rot in a world where I was alone!” My Susano’o roared, deafening and pure. My body shook, numbness returning. I locked eyes with Naruto; he flinched at my gaze.

“I don’t need saving. This world deserves to die.”

Chapter Text

   I staggered for but a moment before attacking the four with my Susano'o, avoiding Sasuke to the best of my ability. My thoughts raced, unable to grasp how all but one being had betrayed me. Madara retaliated with a blunt strike from his Susano’o, forcing me to step back slightly. We exchanged blows repeatedly, my mind hazy as chakra seeped from my skin like blood from a wound. The air grew ice-cold; our breaths visible in the once-humid air—but I barely felt it as I broke through his Susano’o and impaled him with a Fūjin-infused kunai. My breath grew labored as he melted before my eyes, less than half of his body remaining. Could he not feel pain?

A slicing sound drew my attention, warmth running down my side. My eyes widened; the two in green stood behind me, arms through my sides, one through the spot where my heart should be. My Susano’o tore them from my form and lifted them into the air, crushing them slowly as I sank to a knee. A glowing hand over my chest drew my attention; my body was reconstructing itself. For the first time, I was grateful my heart resided within my chakra figure. Had my Susano’o faltered? Had they exploited a weakness? Or was it something more?

With a snarl, I leapt toward Madara, too fast for anyone to react. My hand pierced his upper chest; Oyamatsumi activated. When had I breached his Susano’o? Did it work on others as well? His chakra pooled into me as his dead eyes stared straight into my nonexistent soul. He leaned forward, calculating, body withering away.

“Takeshi. Wasn’t expecting to see you again.”

My head throbbed violently, like an explosion within, as his body melted. Warm liquid rained onto me, groans of immense pain cutting off alongside a flood of new power. I gazed upward. The two in green were nothing but bloody messes, lifeless in the grip of my Susano’o. A drop of blood slid beneath my right eye, tracing a path of what they had felt before death.

A scream of agony reached me, registering faintly as an ineffective attack brushed against my guard. Samehada curled in front of me, eyeless gaze questioning. Tendrils of black spread across my arms, torso, and legs, claiming me. What was this black?

A muted caw echoed.

“It is now that you choose your destiny, Masaru. One chance to alter your path, if you wish.”

Takeshi’s voice was steady, unwavering. I drew a deep breath, Rinnegan activating, pushing everyone yards away. The newest bodies were sent airborne before Minato guided them to the ground. Determination burned in his eyes, deadly and renewed. Naruto and Sasuke mirrored that resolve. Minato placed a hand on his son’s shoulder, holding him back with care, and I realized what the markings meant. My brother’s gaze flicked behind me before he spoke.

“Masaru.”

I locked eyes with him, breath visible in the cold of my chakra. “Do you truly believe I would betray you?”

The question hit me. Did I? We had trusted each other after Itachi died, an invisible bond formed. Could it vanish, erased by pain and time? Or was it a bond too intricate to break, no matter the suffering? Had my reaction to Itachi’s death felt like betrayal? And now… had my only other blood turned against me?

I averted my gaze, opening a hand dripping with the blood of those I had killed. What was this feeling? I lifted my head, shaking slightly, hair falling on my shoulder. A tear rolled down his cheek; he knew me, how I am versus how I was. The only one who understood my past, my trials, and my ascent. That was why I knew—he would never betray me. We were too similar.

The hairs on my neck stood on end, a presence behind me I could not see. My body froze, anger nearly clouding my judgment, as I forced my gaze through my chakra figure. For the first time, my blood went cold. Those eyes… they would have bored into a soul if I had one, asking a question while already knowing the answer. How could he look directly at my Susano’o? Was I afraid? Was this what it felt like to confront him? Would he end me, the world’s greatest threat? Or negotiate, knowing his nature?

I fell to my knees, vision returning. Father and son had tapped into a power unfamiliar, eyes altered. Still, Sasuke watched me with eyes full of love and concern. Both of us knew—he could never kill me.

Chapter Text

I sat on my knees, movement impossible, my mind spinning with the question of why I deserved this fate. Was it my conviction, my insatiable bloodlust, or the countless lives I had taken? Could I blame my prisoner life for turning me into this monster? My breathing grew shallow as the world shifted around me, the moon turning a bloody red. Despite my Susano’o being active, I could not move. This world wasn’t real; a genjutsu meant to trap and torture. But why? Pain was nearly meaningless to me. All I could do was focus on maintaining my guard, my body the only line keeping anything else out.

Tears of regret and anger welled as a man materialized from the crowd, one arm hidden in his cloak, skin flawless despite the reanimation jutsu. His eyes were stern, calculating, revealing his hesitation to approach me.

“Is salvation impossible for me, brother?” I asked softly, my voice echoing in the silence. “Did I make you proud when you left us to our own devices? Was destroying the Leaf the last thread of hope you had for me?” I stumbled forward, blood seeping from my arms and legs, desperation searing through me.

He stayed silent, watching, waiting. A raspy chuckle escaped me as I wiped my brow with a bloody hand. My eyes changed. Reality snapped back, my brother forced from my Susano’o, guilt etched in the furrow of his brow. I took a steady breath, my chakra figure grasping its chest momentarily. Two consecutive thumps made me realize it was my eldest brother who alone unsettled me. I scanned the few standing before me, all ready to die for this battle, all willing to risk their lives.

“Do you truly want your stories to end here?” I asked softly. Samehada curled around me. “I do not wish to kill the lot of you. Only one.”

Naruto growled, the fox within resonating with him. I fell to a knee, blood dripping, a shock of frustration tightening my chest. You can’t kill them. You won’t be able to because I won’t let you. Samehada surged forward for a chunk of chakra, but I used Oyamatsumi instinctively. Tears streamed as the creature dissolved, never having betrayed me until now. Was it fear, or true betrayal?

The influx of chakra was staggering—generations of power, coursing through me. Scars vanished, wounds healed. I rose slowly, arms limp, vision clouded, moving almost on instinct as I repeatedly attacked the fox boy. Neither he nor his father could match my speed. Had my brothers been fighting? Emptiness. Had Itachi been imagined? Loneliness. Did they care? Betrayal.

A scream tore through my ears, sand briefly obscuring my vision. Another strike, and another. I leapt back, breath ragged.

“Stop this, Masaru!” Gaara’s calm voice reached me, teeth clenched, hand clutching the wound where my arm had been. “If you continue, you will die.”

Death already knew me. Blood seeped from my mouth as the world muted, spotlighted around me. A being appeared, neither male nor female, silent but commanding. Eyes cold yet kind, old yet young, black robes flowing with long black hair. Curiosity compelled me to step forward.

Instantly, chaos erupted. My body fought instinctively, ignoring injury. My chakra figure’s gaze met mine, a third eye forming on its forehead. Desperation radiated from it—wanting to keep me alive. Shouts from Itachi reached me, but it was too late. I was thrust from the world I knew, taking one last glance at the creature, a silent farewell.

I landed inside my Susano’o, Samehada coiling around me. I gripped the hilt, already sensing confusion from my opponents. Blood dripped from my forehead, a costly drawback of my power. My chakra figure stood beside me, hands over its ears, overwhelmed by sound. Suddenly, my chakra drained, blood spurting from my mouth. Samehada buzzed with power before replenishing me—not enough to go berserk, but enough. Its size decreased, like a balloon deflating.

I rose, leg restored, chakra colder and deadlier than before. I reached out to my chakra figure, expecting the familiar grasp—but instead felt a small, hesitant hand, childlike and unsure. I squeezed, pouring strength into it. Relief flooded me as the figure grew to match me, a perfect reflection—deadly, cold, whole.

With clarity, I rushed father and son. They tried to strike, failing. I spun, releasing a shockwave that lifted them into the air. Using my Rinnegan, I drew them in, my chakra figure targeting the fox boy with pure hatred. Minato shunshined before him, arms outstretched, but my attack tore through him like paper. I hovered, eyes wide, as his face softened despite the pain.

“I always knew you could be better, Masaru.” His Sharingan softened. My chakra figure vanished into me. Horror struck as Minato fell, Naruto rushing after him like a desperate child. Sage mode gone. Tears streamed from Naruto as he caught his father, holding him like life itself depended on it. Silently, I lowered myself, watching. I had barely known Minato, yet Naruto’s grief was real.

“You have so much pain…” he breathed, failing to hide his own. “I’m so sorry.” His apologies meant nothing—they never mattered—but his presence did.

“Don’t give up on yourself,” he continued, voice softer, almost fading. “You don’t know better than to kill without mercy… but you can have redemption. Your past doesn’t define you. I can tell… you feel it. It’s in your eyes… as you cry…”

I stumbled back, burned by the words, cold tears streaking my face. Guilt, loss, anger—all at myself. My chakra figure collapsed to its knees, silently crying.

“Masaru… can you hear us?”

“Little brother?” I gasped, swaying, hands steadying me. My brothers were there. Concerned. Present. Not alone. My chakra reached toward Itachi and Sasuke, chest opening to reveal my beating heart—slow, agonizing. Fear surged; I refused to die for nothing.

“After everything I’ve done,” I whispered, “the least I can do is exchange a life for two.” My heart slowed, seconds slipping away. “Be a family, Itachi. Sasuke.”

My heart stopped. Itachi became whole through the technique, Minato revived. Life for life—the dead who had given me life. Eyes closed, I finally allowed myself to relax. Neither brother shed a tear, though both seemed on the edge. I became smaller, fourteen again—a child in his family’s arms. As the black overtook me, I realized how much I loved them. Learning to love… had it changed me?

Chapter Text

I was going to have two more siblings soon. Despite my training at the academy and with Shisui, I did my best to ensure I’d be there when they were born.

The day came faster than we’d expected. Sasuke was brimming with excitement, as was I, as we waited to meet the two newborns. In fact, I had to calm my little brother down so he wouldn’t be too loud and upset the twins. So, I’d taken him to my room and waited. Our mother’s screams of labor filled the house, but we didn’t mind. At least I didn’t. They came and went like a pulse, steady, almost ceremonial, and I couldn’t help but listen to them. Briefly, I glanced at my little brother and saw the worried expression on his face, how he twiddled his thumbs anxiously. Someone his age shouldn’t have to feel that way about anything. Not with me as his older brother to keep him safe from such things.

When the midwife came into our room and brought us to our mother, we were ready for anything. I could tell something was wrong by my father’s grim look—the shadow that fell over his face, the way his lips formed into a flat line. He was putting on a strong front. One I was all too familiar with. My eyes shifted to my mother, who held a baby in her arms close to her chest. He was stunning, but in a way that made the air feel heavier, colder. His pale skin and stillness made him look less like a child and more like… I didn’t know.

I felt myself relax when my new brother was placed in my arms, swaddled in blankets to keep him warm. The snow outside blanketed the house and streets, as winter was in full effect, but the chill I felt came from him.

“Masaru.” My mother croaked out. Her voice sounded hollow, like naming him drained her. Masaru… it was perfect. I gently rested my pinky finger into his tiny hand. He grasped it with a strength that made me freeze. Then his eyes opened. The Mangekyō Sharingan stared back at me, unblinking, unhuman. His gaze didn’t just see me; it reached inside me, measuring, analyzing, as though he already understood my mind. I smiled, though the warmth I expected never came. I was proud—but uneasy, too.

Then we were both ushered out of the room after the midwife took Masaru; my mother began to give birth to our second newest sibling—a sibling we’d never meet. A sibling, we’d come to find out, born dead, the umbilical cord wrapped around her throat. My mother’s shrill wails of sorrow reached my ears, and I immediately covered Sasuke’s ears to shield him from it. I had to protect him from such sorrow until I couldn’t any longer.

Three years later, everything changed. I couldn’t forgive myself for what happened. Sasuke, Masaru, and I were sleeping in the same room for the first time at my request. He’d always been a heavy sleeper—or perhaps he only pretended. A creak stirred me in the night, but I ignored it, assuming the house shifted. How wrong I’d been. A deep wrongness pressed into my chest. I shot upright, drenched in sweat, my gaze falling on the empty cradle. The window was open, the night air warm, but Masaru was gone. Was it my fault?

It had been years since I’d heard anything about my missing brother. Since his disappearance, I’d made many achievements as I tried to push him out of my mind. But he was like a shadow that clung to me, a whisper in the wind that spoke my name when no one else was around. That’s why it came as a surprise when Pain informed me of a spike in chakra where many were known to travel: the forest of Konoha. Why there of all places? My curiosity got the better of my judgment. I sent a crow to the location to scope out the area as I sat quietly, watching intently through its eyes.

I saw him then, after a while of waiting. My brother looked horrible. Looking through the eyes of one of my crows, I watched as he drifted through the trees, his movements jerky, uncertain, like a puppet testing its strings. He looked around in confusion—at the trees, the sky, the sun… how he winced as he stepped onto the grass, almost like he expected it to sear him. Like he had never touched the world before.

His clothes were stained with years of dried blood, torn so thoroughly they dangled loosely over his emaciated yet somehow strong frame. His vacant expression was a hollow mask that barely shifted. His gaze landed on my crow. Our eyes met. Recognition. The crow tilted its head as I mused, thinking of any possible solution to give him hope—hope that would show him this world wasn’t anything like the one he grew up in that had made him as he was now. So I had the crow sing. The tune was one I used to sing to him when he was a child. I watched as tears fell down his face, but even those tears slid too slowly, like he was forcing his body to remember how to cry.

I left him to process, letting the crow fly off. Against my better judgment, I landed among the leaves to hide myself and watched him again. He turned to the stone doorway and used Wood Style to completely hide it in the existing foliage. That style wasn’t common… how could he have learned it? His chakra didn’t just radiate—it pressed on the air, smothering it.

After seeing him for the first time since our childhood, I made an effort to keep an eye on him through my crow summons, convincing myself he needed my protection. He didn’t. Not in the slightest. That single fact was proven to me multiple times: when he easily stole Samehada right after Kisame was murdered, when he killed four ninja far too easily, when he took down Utakata without so much as lifting a finger, and when he walked into our base with him on his shoulder like the adult weighed nothing.

His genjutsu was incredibly powerful, his physical strength incomprehensible. We all stood in silent disbelief as the sword ate part of his body in a grotesque manner and let out a satisfied sigh, the wound healing faster than any medical ninjutsu I’d ever witnessed. His request to join the Akatsuki made my heart drop, but there was nothing I could do to stop him lest I reveal my connection to him.

If the villages caught onto him and tried to take him as their own, they’d be annihilated—I knew that. If any of us, even at full power, tried to take him down, we’d be slaughtered. For the first time, fear crept into my heart for the child who was my youngest brother.

A few days later, I approached him outside the stone door. He hadn’t moved. Or perhaps he moved too subtly to notice. His stillness radiated purpose, predatory yet controlled. I stepped inside, stopping a few paces away. It was instantly apparent he’d used Tsukiyomi on the jinchūriki, keeping him inside an illusion for days now. But how was that possible? How had he learned the technique? His Sharingan remained unblinking, unnervingly calm. When he tilted his head, just slightly, it was like the smallest motion carried intention—a child imitating human curiosity, unsure but precise. A lump formed in my throat. He seemed so innocent in his curiosity, but I could feel the edge of menace sliding just beneath the surface. 

The sealing of the jinchūriki took a few days, as expected. When it was done, my eyes shot to my brother when the Gedo Statue looked at him. The moment it did, he began to scream in agony, clutching his head while falling to one knee, his movements almost too graceful for the level of pain he must have been feeling. What was happening? I watched in outward disinterest until he stood again. Then my head shot to where the corpse of the jinchūriki was lying. Suddenly, it was engulfed in the flames of Amaterasu, the fire so deep in color it sent a chill down my spine. Then we locked eyes, his gaze as cold and unblinking as always, but now sharper somehow.

“You have impressive healing abilities,” I said, forcing calmness to seep into me. “Before that happens again, let’s get you something so you don’t starve yourself to death.” His movements toward me were fluid yet impossible for anyone his age—like a shadow stretching across the room. I was grateful his body was no longer so thin and frail; he’d obviously been eating since his escape. It was one less thing to worry about at least.

After being partnered with my brother, I’d requested he wear an Akatsuki cloak. How he wore it was… oddly normal, not at all what I was expecting. We made our way to a small village in the middle of nowhere after that. The residents didn’t care about who we were, just that we had currency to pay for what we wanted.

I kept an eye on him as we ate without making it obvious, the seats we’d taken crafted with fine workmanship. He was a conundrum—it was like he’d never had meat and bread before. Had he? He ate carefully, almost unnaturally so, placing each bite with precision. My thoughts made it difficult to focus on anything but him. Would he answer my questions, or remain silent like he had been for a while now? With a soft sigh, I decided to see where it would go.

“Who are you?”

It took him a few minutes to answer, clearly thinking hard about something. Did he trust me? Was he wary of my intentions? The stillness of the pause, the way he considered the words, made the silence oppressive.

“Masaru Uchiha.”

Without even realizing, I leaned back against the tree. At least he was willing to talk.

It didn’t take long for me to say something else.

“Samehada is fond of you,” I said, nodding to the sword tucked into his back strap. “He’s always been very picky with his wielders. Where did you find it?”

Of course I knew already… so what would he say?

“From an odd sword man. Blue man killed self.”

I leaned forward with a sigh, trying to wrap my head around how it would have been possible for him to so easily take the sword from the Eight Tails. I noted his fragmented speech, mechanical phrasing. He was a child forced to become a weapon. I remained calm, planning how to guide him without intervention. He shifted his weight ever so slightly.

“Where have you been hiding?” I said under my breath, despite already knowing the answer.

However, I wasn’t expecting him to answer so readily.

“I wasn’t. Kidnapped, tortured, raised to be a secret weapon for the Leaf. Escaped not long ago.”

The way he spoke was like he’d never really been taught how. The pause between his words stretched unnaturally. I hated myself after all these years for not waking up when I heard that odd sound. If I had, this future of his wouldn’t have happened. Moreover, I might have taken him under my wing, brought him out of the village for his safety, and asked someone I trusted to care for him.

I was broken from my thoughts when I noticed him playing with his cloak for the umpteenth time. He tugged at it almost absentmindedly. Did he want to know what it represented? I raised a brow in feigned curiosity to hide my amusement, to hide how quickly I’d grown fond of him. Despite what he’d gone through, despite what he was capable of, he was still a child in my eyes—one who knew so little of the world.

“Red moon,” I started as I turned to look at him, “for the blood that was spilled in Amegakure during the war years ago.”

He didn’t answer as he took in the information. I’d have to get used to that.

The two of us were hired for an assassination assignment from an anonymous source soon after we left the small village. A bird summon delivered the message before flying off, clearly uninterested in remaining for long. The target was suspected to be from Sunagakure—a mass murderer who had slaughtered people during the night, tearing them apart before fleeing. Gaara had let the criminal go in order to protect his people, a wise act in the face of someone so skilled in his work.

On our way, we didn’t talk much. He mostly stayed quiet aside from asking about the wide world, about the leaders and their roles within the different villages. About me and our clan. I told him what I thought was best for him to know at the time. It was obvious he didn’t understand clan connections or the possibility of being related. Somehow, that eased my tension. Perhaps it was best he didn’t know just yet.

The two of us entered a clearing after learning our target’s last known position. For the sake of seeing my brother’s power for myself, I stayed behind. It was over before it began: Shadow Clones, Tsukiyomi, Amaterasu. I watched, evaluating and noting patterns. His cruelty was methodical, not impulsive. Every movement carried intent. I watched as he fell to his knees in agony, setting the corpse alight once more with Amaterasu. My heart pounded as Samehada bit off a chunk of the body, seemingly to pull him back into reality.

How had he obtained a different set of Uchiha eyes? It shouldn’t be possible for him to regularly use such powerful genjutsu without repercussions. Little did I know I’d soon see some of his full power firsthand.

When it came time for him to fight the Four Tails in Iwagakure, motion carried the echo of my own style when I was younger—but perfected, controlled in impossible rhythm. His body moved as though rehearsed in silence for years. Did he remember seeing me train all those years ago?

The fight was over in minutes. The surrounding area was destroyed, and I realized he’d barely used any of his power to defeat the Four Tails. His power was far beyond what should be possible. Could I really protect someone with so much power and hatred?

After the sealing of the Four Tails, my concern rose to an all-time high. After every sealing, my brother’s pain grew more and more until it seemed like he could barely take it.

“That’s seven times in several months,” I said calmly. Even Samehada seemed concerned for his safety. Then his voice cut through the silence.

“Konoha. Man, red armor, took Isobu.”

I couldn’t help but sigh, knowing that he knew far more than he let on at this point. Did he know I’d slaughtered our village? It wouldn’t surprise me. So I told him the truth.

“That was the Leaf Village’s first Hokage, Hashirama Senju. The Three Tails was meant to be a sign of peace to Kirigakure.”

The look of pure hatred and rage that filled his face was nothing short of surprising. I never understood why he cared for the creatures. The sound of nails against stone reached my ears, and without thinking, I grabbed his wrist and scowled, anger flashing over my face for the first time since I’d worked with him.

“What’s wrong with you?”

My eyes widened imperceptibly as he tore his wrist out of my hold with a snarl.

“They will all die, and I’ll make sure they suffer like I did.”

I knew exactly what he meant. His hunger for peace, the way he pursued it, was relentless—but all wrong. Every movement, the tilt of his head, the faint twitch of a finger, was deliberate, too controlled. He lingered in the shadows, unblinking, measuring me as though reading my thoughts. Fear and awe coiled in my chest. I understood with certainty what I had to do next.

I knew I was going to die soon. My fight with Sasuke had gone according to plan. Masaru had followed me, had heard my words about the brother we’d lost that fateful night. About him. If they were both going to hate me for it, so be it. If they were going to hate Konoha and the other villages for it, so be it. At least I was going to die in the presence of my brothers.

Chapter Text

Our mission from Lady Tsunade was nothing really. Just go to one of the many forests near the Hidden Leaf and relax. None of us knew why. But with respect for the Hokage, we listened.

It was boring doing nothing. And yet we walked slowly and chatted away like always. Especially about Asuma-sensei—our laughter echoed between the trees and up into the sky as the puffy white clouds rolled by slowly. Ino was playfully pushing Choji when movement caught my eye. Immediately I stopped and hid behind a tree to watch, my teammates doing the same.

In front of us was a pristine pool of water glistening in the sun—and in front of it was a sight that made my blood run cold. Even Ino and Choji had gone rigid. A boy crouched at the water’s edge, his body twisted unnaturally still, as though he had been frozen mid-movement. His clothes were shredded, stiff with layers of dried blood that clung to his frame. The putrid stench clung to the air, and I covered my nose to keep from gagging. His hair was long, matted, its color almost hidden beneath the crust of blood, strands hanging in curtains across his face like a mask.

Just who was this kid? What village was he from? Was he even human? The pressure radiating off him made my chest tighten; not even Naruto’s full power compared to this. My own body locked up as I watched in silent horror. Without warning, the boy tipped forward and fell face-first into the water, no hesitation, no attempt to resist—as though the act of drowning was deliberate.

Only when he disappeared beneath the surface did I realize I’d been holding my breath. The trickle of sweat down my temple felt like fire. Had I really been that terrified?

“Tell me I’m not the only one who saw that,” Choji whispered in uncertainty.

We all knew we had. There was no need to answer.

“We’ve got to assess the situation,” I said softly, eyes locked on the pool as it darkened into a murky, reddish brown. Bubbles rose occasionally, but nothing else. Seconds dragged by. Was the boy drowning? Or… was he waiting?

“It’s been almost ten minutes,” Ino said quietly.

My eyes widened, alarm jolting through me. Had it really been that long since he vanished beneath the water? I forced myself forward, hands forming the seals for Shadow Jutsu.

“Stand back. We don’t know what this person is capable of.”

I cast my shadow across the pool and dragged him out. For once in my life, I regretted my decision. He didn’t collapse on the ground, gasping for air, as anyone else would. He landed silently, perfectly balanced on his feet, his body loose yet predatory, like a wild animal ready to strike. The technique had simply broken against him.

His eyes… gods, his eyes. Empty, pale things that scanned us with the cold detachment of a predator appraising prey. Every muscle in my body screamed at me to stay still.

Ino jumped in, desperate.

“Don’t!” she shouted, her voice cracking.

The boy didn’t move. His gaze slithered over us, measuring, dissecting, as though deciding how best to end us. My spine locked, but I forced myself to speak.

“Who are you?” I asked, keeping my voice firm.

Slowly, with an unsettling mimicry, he tore a strip of his ruined shirt and tied his soaking wet hair back the way I wore mine. The deliberate act made my stomach twist. He didn’t answer.

“You gonna answer or what?” I pushed, my tone sharper.

He didn’t care. His body sagged slightly, like a puppet with cut strings, yet every motion carried a strange precision. Then he lifted one hand to the sky, the movement unnervingly slow, like a marionette tugged upward by invisible threads.

“Masaru.”

His voice was wrong. Too deep, too seasoned, carrying a weight no child should ever have—a voice that had crawled through fire and come back hollow. Twisted apathy flickered in his expression, as though life itself had nothing more to offer him.

It took everything in me not to falter as I rested my hand near my kunai. Not that we could defend ourselves if he decided to strike. I wasn’t even sure anyone could.

“So… Masaru,” Ino said carefully, “why were you in that lake? It seemed like you were drowning, so Shikamaru pulled you out.”

Her words felt small in the silence that followed. Masaru didn’t answer. He turned his head away with mechanical indifference, as though our presence was beneath his notice.

We huddled together, whispering quickly but knowing he could hear every word.

“Should we trust him?” Ino asked, her voice trembling.

“He could be a spy for all we know,” I said bluntly, crossing my arms.

“But he’s obviously hurt!” she protested.

“You think that matters? That’s one of the oldest infiltration tactics in the books.”

“Clearly he’s not from around here,” Choji muttered, rubbing his temples. “Maybe he’s a missing-nin?”

“I doubt it. We’d have heard of someone who could cancel jutsu like that.”

“How about we take him to Lady Tsunade? Surely she could help him,” Ino offered.

“And put the entire village at risk? No way. What if we request she and Kakashi come instead? Maybe even Naruto.”

“We’re still a few days out,” Choji reminded. “Ino’s right—it’s not a bad idea.”

“Team Kakashi’s on a mission,” I muttered, frustration weighing down my words.

“Timing couldn’t be worse.”

“Then shouldn’t we get him tidied up a bit first, have him presentable for her?”

A grin tugged at the corner of my lips. “Like she would care. She’s seen worse with her medical ninjutsu.”

“Who should go, then?”

“You should,” I told Ino. “Explain everything. Have her bring backup if she thinks it’s necessary. Choji and I will keep an eye on him.”

We all knew it was a lie. None of us could fight him if it came to it. But it was better than admitting the terror curling in our guts.

Ino turned back to Masaru, forcing a smile though her hands shook as she adjusted her kunai belt.

“I’m going to go get someone who’ll be able to help you, Masaru. Please stay with my comrades until I get back. They’ll keep an eye on you so you don’t hurt yourself again.”

He didn’t look at her. He gave only the faintest nod, his dead eyes fixed elsewhere, like he was listening to voices only he could hear.

As she left, Choji and I froze. Masaru had wandered back to the pool, crouched at the edge, dragging one pale finger across the surface. Wherever he touched, the water froze solid, ice spreading outward in jagged veins.

The breath caught in my throat. Just how much power did he possess?

Chapter Text

A chill ran down my spine. Something felt wrong. Terribly wrong. As I ran through the woods toward Samurai Bridge, I couldn’t shake the sense of an enormous presence of chakra hidden within the mist rising from the waters beneath it. Everything else—the trees, the path, the rushing wind—blurred. The destination mattered. Sakura had come this way, I knew, toward a presence I couldn’t put into words. Was she safe?

I tore through the trees and into the open. Sasuke stood behind Sakura, lips moving in words I couldn’t hear. She stared at an injured woman lying in front of her, kunai gripped tightly, while Sasuke’s palm hovered over her back in preparation for a strike. Was he convincing her to attack, or was there another plan I couldn’t see? I didn’t wait to find out.

With a burst of speed, I leapt, chidori sparking in my hand. I closed in on Sasuke within seconds. I wasn’t going to let them hurt each other—not again. But just as I reached striking distance, a force slammed into me, knocking me back.

I regained my footing and locked eyes on someone I’d never seen: a boy, no older than sixteen, pale as porcelain, clothed in a strange Akatsuki-patterned cloak with odd clothes underneath, Samehada strapped to his back. His hair was long, black, tied simply, yet everything about him radiated quiet danger.

I dropped into an offensive stance, ready to strike again—until his words stopped me.

“Don’t intervene.”

His voice was calm, deliberate, deeper than expected. Movements stiff, precise, puppet-like. Hollow. Collected. Dangerous. And his eyes—Sharingan. Cold, lifeless, yet carrying horrors he alone had seen.

But it wasn’t just his eyes. I scanned him. His chakra—immense and controlled. That alone marked him as a potential killer capable of overwhelming almost anyone. His body was relaxed, yet perfectly coiled, ready to respond instantly to the slightest threat. Every motion efficient, every muscle accounted for.

Samehada. The blade wasn’t simply a weapon—it was an extension of him. Reactive, sentient, attuned to its wielder’s chakra. For Masaru to carry it meant mastery—or an instinctive bond that amplified his already monstrous reserves. He could likely sense chakra fluctuations, absorb attacks, and strike with near-perfect timing.

Landing gracefully next to Sasuke, Masaru positioned himself perfectly to react to any incoming threat. Protective. Calculating. Ever watchful.

The faint smirk tugging at his lips told me he knew the stakes, and he was ready. Confidence, not arrogance. Knowledge born from survival, hardened over years I could only guess at.

“…lots of guys who feel the way you do. But it never ends well. Let it go. You’ve got to forget about revenge.”

I didn’t expect Sasuke to listen. I didn’t expect mercy. Our clash was inevitable.

We fought on the waters below. My attention split between Sasuke’s attacks and the boy on the bridge. Not a twitch, not a breath wasted. Samehada shifted faintly on his back, almost alive, restless. Every motion of his cloak, every adjustment of stance, gave me insight into how he could react to anything I did.

The tide turned in my favor as Sasuke overextended. This was my chance.

But the boy acted instantly, pressing back against Sasuke to protect him. Instinct, not hesitation. Years of surviving alone, years of reading and controlling threats.

Then—the sound of a throat being slit. Naruto appeared, kunai dripping with blood, eyes blazing. He skidded to a halt. The strike should have been fatal—but Masaru straightened, coughing blood, his wound closing as if it never existed. He should have been dead.

And yet he stood, calm, collected, expression unchanged—as if pain were irrelevant.

I flickered to Naruto’s side, ready to shield him.

“Is Sakura okay?” His voice cracked, dragging me back. I shook my head.

“She’s gone.”

Naruto buckled, silent tears streaming. I caught him, my eyes never leaving Sasuke and the boy. Sasuke waited, hand on his hip. Masaru remained inscrutable, radiating quiet menace. Dread pooled in my gut. Whoever he was, he wasn’t just another ally of Sasuke’s. Eyes like that, chakra hidden beneath the surface, Samehada in hand… he was a storm waiting to break.

Back at the Leaf, I buried myself in the Uchiha clan’s records. A second survivor shouldn’t have been possible. They’d all been killed. Hours stretched into exhaustion as scrolls piled high, each one a dead end. Birth records. Death records. Nothing useful. Something was missing. But what?

I pressed on. At last, a detail surfaced: eleven years ago, an Uchiha toddler had been kidnapped during the night—or so the theory went. My breath caught when I saw the family’s names: Fugaku, Mikoto, Itachi, Sasuke. And the boy—Masaru.

A third son.

There was little else recorded, and that in itself was alarming. Who would be reckless enough to steal the child of the Uchiha clan head? Whatever the case, the boy had simply vanished. No battle. No witnesses. Just gone. It was as if he had been erased from history.

I combed through everything related to the Uchiha around that time. Masaru disappeared from every record; even the Anbu archives offered nothing. Was this a coverup? I tapped the desk, frowning. Something about these documents didn’t sit right—information appeared to have been deliberately tampered with. The disappearance of the clan head’s son should have triggered immediate alarms throughout the village.

If only the Third were still alive… perhaps he could have shed light on the mystery of Masaru. I hated to consider the possibility that he could have been involved.

If Danzo were still alive… maybe he could have offered some insight. Even scraps of information might have helped explain Masaru’s disappearance.

And of course—Itachi Uchiha himself. Masaru’s eldest brother. If Itachi were still alive, he would be the only person capable of shedding real light on this. But approaching him wouldn’t have been simple. Surely he would have remembered details about his youngest brother, regardless of whether he’d have been willing to share them. I sighed softly. There had been reports of two Akatsuki members here and there, one having been Itachi. And the other? The descriptions fit Masaru more or less on the dot. He had been working with his brother for however long I didn’t know. Would he have known Masaru was his brother? Would he have feigned ignorance?

It felt like any of my potential leads were dead or missing. All I knew was Masaru was seemingly back from the dead, and he was a force to be reckoned with. I’d have to inform Lady Tsunade as soon as I could.