Poor shade: why are you torturing yourself so much?
Also: couldn't you close your eyes? It should help!
 
Since he can ghost items with his chain, if he takes an omnitool with him, would he be able to use it on physical items, like say hacking a computer, or would it only work on other ghosted things?
 
30
Chapter Twenty-Nine

"Commander Shepard, I heard you were dead," Garrus said, and that was the first thing I actually heard once the shock of 'guts and glory' subdued.
"The reports of my death are greatly exaggerated," I mumbled, still half-dazed, and quoted Mark Twain.
"Shouldn't pay attention to gossip," Shepard opted for saying, before sparing a glance my way.
What was she looking for? Oh, right.
"Garrus Vakarian," I grunted out.
"Garrus," Shepard said and nodded. "So, you're Archangel?"
"Well, after you didn't take me up on my offer in the presidium to join you, I had to do something with my life, so I thought 'why not go to Omega and clean the house'? Better go big or go home..." he chuckled, the Turian making a short chortle sound as he did. "Seems like there's a lull in their attack, but it won't last."

"They're planning to infiltrate from below," Shepard replied.
"Ah damn, I should have checked the basement better. There's an emergency shutter that might work...but I don't work well at short distance."
Shepard grinned and pumped her shotgun. "I do. And by the way, I help you out of this, you're recruited for an extremely important mission."
"I suspected it was something of the sort," Garrus said, "Commander Shepard wouldn't bother for anything else."
"Miranda, stay with Garrus," Shepard said, "Jacob, you're with me."

I remained silent. There wasn't anything I could suggest here, the mission was pretty straightforward and linear; there wasn't any way I could help, and frankly, I wasn't in the mood for helping -even if it was nigh impossible they might need help.
Jacob was quick and precise, not as precise and quick as Shepard, but good enough that when he opened fire, he meant to kill and usually managed.
I watched quietly. There was...less brutality in Jacob's kills than with Shepard.
Shepard made gory messes, while Jacob's were cleaner.
They were...ah, his bullets had to be incendiary. There was no blood gushing out from the holes because they burned to a close. They left behind neat corpses.
Funny how I realized only then there was a difference between a neat corpse and a messy one.

The shutters were closed, with much rejoicing from my inner voice as the slaughter came to an end.
And then, finally, the mercenaries tried their last ditch effort.
But it didn't work.
Shepard didn't even have to dirty her hands.
The Mechs' targeting parameters had been altered, but they hadn't been weakened at all. With their shields up, their armor and their weapons, the moment they turned on they began a slaughter of blue suns, eclipse and blood pack so great that the rest of the mercenaries still alive began to high-tail it.
If they had had a gunship, they might have stuck around, but a very loud explosion overheard just as the mech went rampant...told me the trap had worked.

There would be no gunship, no more attacks...and no Garrus with scars.
I had just changed a very minor thing of Mass Effect Two.

This didn't make me feel any better.

The Normandy's space shuttle arrived to bail the group out, and as we did leave, Garrus began asking questions.
Funnily enough, Shepard delegated Miranda on answering, as she said absolutely nothing more, and kept glancing my way as if waiting for answers I could not give.
"Just don't act like an ass when you talk with him," I deadpanned. "It's not difficult."
She still kept glancing at me.
"What is it now?" I sighed. "You know, you can always wait until we're on the Normandy to finish whatever conversation this is about."

Shepard grumbled, but didn't say a word until we finally reached the Normandy, and from there...she high-tailed it straight to her quarters and closed the door behind her.
"I was trying to point out you could near your ear to my helmet, because I had deactivated the audio feeds," Shepard hissed.
"Oh," I blinked. "Sorry. Didn't realize that."

Ka-chink.

The hell.
Even a 'sorry' warranted it now?
"Can Garrus be trusted?" Shepard asked next.
"Yes, yes he can," I said. "His old team of Omega was betrayed by a guy he'll find more about later, and when he does, he'll want you to aid him in killing him."
"Sounds like an easy thing to do," Shepard grunted.
"Yeah, I expected you'd say something like that," I sighed.
"You know, I was wrong," Shepard suddenly said. "You can't be secret services."
"You still think I am? Come on," I grumbled.
"Well, whatever you are, you're clearly quite weak when it comes to blood and corpses."
"Ah, so you noticed that, uh," I said. "Well, sorry Miss Guts and Gory, but what can I say? Not everyone's at ease in a shower of innards."
"That Vorcha was looking for it."
"You used your shotgun to impale him from the balls, aim upwards, and then opened fire. No. He wasn't looking for it. You wanted a shower of guts and you got one. How you even manage to still be alive without following...what is it you soldier have, 'trigger discipline'? Discipline? Do you even know the meaning of the word?"
"There was no risk involved," Shepard said, and I snorted.
"Of course, because he was the last one, unarmed, and wounded. You merely took pleasure in killing him in the messiest way possible, for no other gain. You know, I would have understood if you had killed him like that first, to scare the rest. Psychological war, I understand. Blood spraying around to scare the allies, I get it. But there were only three people there. I wasn't looking. Jacob looked, but didn't want to, and the one woman who pulled the trigger was smiling and laughing like a two-credit junkie getting her addiction fixed!"

Shepard tried to pull the chain.
Fortunately for me, nothing happened.
"There is a fixed distance between us that I cannot exceed. As long as I don't, you can't use the chain to physically coerce me, and even if you do pull it, I can always keep on elongating it." I drawled.
"Compensating for something?" Shepard retorted.
"Really? The Great Commander Shepard goes for dick-length jokes? I expected better from you. Each link is forged from a sin you committed, you know?" I offhandedly remarked.
Shepard stopped pulling.
"Are you serious?"
"No...I'm just...yanking your chain."

I snorted and then began to laugh.
"It's not...that was...horrible," Shepard snarled, trying her hardest to keep a normal face, even as her shoulders trembled softly. "Horrible."
"You tell me," I shrugged.
"So, my road to redemption and saving the galaxy also passes through not making gory messes on the ground?"
"Yes, that would be very, very nice," I deadpanned.

Shepard snorted. "I've got to ask: why are you here?"
I shrugged. "Good question."
"Well?"
"Well what? I don't have an answer to that," I said. "One night, I went to sleep in my bed. The next day, I was on another world, in this form. You're not the first one I'm trying to help, and you're not the first one that will suffer when I leave."
"Wait. Wait a tick. You're leaving?" Shepard asked.
"Can't say more than that, or the rules change," I sighed. "Better this way. You won't have to suffer me for all of eternity, and heck, depending on how things go I might be gone by next week, or the next few minutes."
"Uh, interesting," Shepard acquiesced. "So, what are you? A dead soul?"
"I am a Super-Imposed Interdimensional Traveller," I said. "At least, that's the definition I gave myself. There...hasn't been any indication, any warning, any message sent my way so...I'm working on assumptions."
"If you assume, you make an Ass out of you and me," Shepard replied calmly.
"Really?" I sighed. "Anyway," I dismissed the issue with a hand wave, "Who am I or what I am isn't important."
"I tend to think it is," Shepard deadpanned. "The future of the Galaxy rests in my hands because I'm Commander Shepard. What do you have on your side that makes you fit for the job?"
I blinked.

Fit for the job?
She was...questioning whether what I did was...right or not.
And...I could see the logic in it.
I had been going around the worlds trying to fix things, but I was doing it...without following any type of reasoning, or order. I wasn't forced to fix the world. I could let it run its course.
"I've seen how everything ends and begins," I said in the end. "I have seen action and reaction, cause and effect. I have seen heroes rise and villains fall. I have seen the fabric of the universe you inhabit and the tropes that compose it. I am not fit for the job, but I can do it. Just like you. Frankly, they should have taken someone else to do the job, but you were the one chosen. You keep on...fighting that, in your head. Every single time you make a decision, you're fighting yourself. You're trying your hardest to prove they did the right thing making you a Spectre, isn't that right?"
Shepard bristled. "You're talking like my psychiatrist after Akuze. 'Were you perhaps trying to prove something, Private Shepard?' I survived. I was the only one of my company of fifty that survived, and all that bastard wanted to know was if I had survived because I wanted to prove something to the higher brass!"
"I highly doubt a psychiatrist would say something as crass as that," I deadpanned. "I think what he actually said, and what you misinterpreted, was that you always wanted to prove something to yourself. You survived because you wanted to prove to yourself that you could," I said calmly. "You survived the attack on Mindoir because that deep fire inside you demanded your survival. I cannot understand, Shepard, but I can empathize."
"I don't need your sympathy," Shepard growled.
"Nor am I offering it," I drawled back. "I can understand where you come from, but I will not watch a spoiled child hurt those around him when a couple of slaps will set him straight."

"Come again?" Shepard blinked.
"You stopped being a scarred soldier the moment you became a commander, Shepard," I hissed. "The moment they gave you men under your command you should have been with them, at their side. You sacrificed them like they meant nothing, you 'got the job done' all right, but you stopped eliciting my sympathy in that moment. There is no sympathy in me for you right now, because you don't deserve it. In the future, who knows, you might. But right now I feel only disgust in your regards. We can banter, we can talk, we can trade jibes and bad puns, but I will never feel sympathy for a brutal slaughterer with no remorse or conscience."
"They called me the Butcher of Torfan, and I find it amusing a guy who can't stand the sight of corpses would dare to speak this way to me, you know?" Shepard drawled. "If you were here in the flesh, I'm pretty sure you'd choose your words more carefully."
"Ah, Shepard...and what if I didn't?" I retorted.
"Then I'd hit you."
"And what if I still didn't?"
"Then I'd hit you again, and again."
"And in the end, what if I still did not yield? Would the great commander Shepard bash my head against the side of the room, the floor, and then what, space me?"
"Yes," Shepard nodded. "To all but the last. I'd keep on hitting you."
"So you'd be no better than a batarian slaver breaking in their new slaves."
And to that, Shepard stopped.
She literally froze on her spot for a moment.
"That's not..."
"That is," I stressed, crossing my arms over my chest. "That is precisely what this is. Let me guess, you met with one of those who were captured, right, on the Citadel? Maybe she was even a childhood friend, who knows. And she had a gun pointed to the side of her head, and she wanted it to stop. She didn't even remember her name, did she?"
Shepard was actually having troubles breathing.
"And what did you do, uhm? What did you do when you saw someone broken, when you saw someone so utterly broken they wanted their masters back?"
"Just what are you," Shepard whispered. "What are you, you damn fucking bastard!" she howled and tried to grip my neck, but merely went through me. "WHAT ARE YOU!?"

"If I presume correctly..." I said calmly, "You shot her down."
Shepard's shoulders trembled.
"You see Shepard, this does not amuse me," I said. "But the only way to build on occupied land is through destruction. Your mind has infrastructures on it, broken, hazardous infrastructures, and it is high time they leave the place. They placed a mad dog on this job, but what the galaxy need isn't a mad dog. What they need is Commander Shepard. You're good with a gun, but take that away and what are you, uh?"
"I'm a Spectre-"
"You aren't, not any longer. Declared dead. Funny how being a Spectre was so in before and now it no longer is. And you know why? Because you chose a human controlled council, and because of that they won't believe you on the Reapers, they won't help you and you won't become a Specter until Earth is charred to dust by the Reapers' first wave of attacks!" I snarled at her.
"And bam!" I clapped my hands together, "You'll get the title of Spectre back, but it will hold no meaning any longer! The Reapers will advance, consume, devour, modify! Men, women, children! You think I'm pathetic for feeling sick at the sight of corpses!? Who is the sick one between us two!? Do you feel nothing at the sight of a husk made of a child, uh!? Is there even a shred of humanity left in you, or is it all gone, because you're not human, but merely 'Commander Shepard, help me or I'll gore the shit out of your corpse' !?"
"Keep your moralistic judgments for those who want to hear them," Shepard hissed out through clenched teeth. "I cannot be broken by the likes of you."
"Oh Jane," I shook my head. "My poor, poor child."
"Stop with the condescending tone! I am not Jane to you and I'm not a poor child!" she shrieked.

"You are already broken," I deadpanned. "What I'm doing? I'm putting the pieces back together with glue. Let me see if I can guess the great train of thoughts that is 'Commander Shepard'."
Shepard brought her hands to her ears. "Not listening! Not listening! I am not listening!"
"Earth was a shitty place, but Jane Shepard had a nice and happy family. She was a bit of a tomboy, always playing with the other kids in the sprawl, always going back home with scraps and wounds. Her parents loved her very, very much, but they knew that if they stayed on Earth, she'd end up in a street gang, maybe the Reds. They couldn't have that."
Jane Shepard stopped walking in circles, but still held her hands to her ears.
"So they decided to sell everything they had and start a fresh, new life on Mindoir!" I exclaimed, "And for a while, everything was happy. That really was a good period of life for Jane...until at sixteen, the Batarians arrived and started killing or kidnapping people to resell as slaves. Shepard's family died, and she enrolled in the Alliance's System Fleet for a chance at revenge. Or maybe was it because you wanted for it to 'never happen again'? No, I'm pretty sure it's because you wanted a chance at revenge, deep down. You're such a festering pool of hatred, you can't feel anything else. And you did it. You passed the tests, became a grunt soldier. And then they sent you on Akuze with fifty other people. An entire marine unit, all made of people that knew each other, had bled together, had toiled together, all friends, maybe, all with dreams and hopes..."

And I clenched my right hand firmly to a close. "And they all died, all of them, from the first to the last," I hummed. "But Jane Shepard didn't. She didn't, because she was the very best of them all. Out of fifty, she alone reached the extraction point. She, alone, survived. She no longer had a family, she no longer had friends, and now, she no longer had a unit."
I sighed. "What a sad, sad story. But now, sadness becomes anger. It becomes an angry story, a disgust filled one. Instead of accepting the pain and growing from it, Shepard lashed out against it. She demanded everyone to be as strong as her, as powerful as her, as quick minded, quick witted, precise as her. She could do the job, so why couldn't the others? She was assigned men under her command. But she didn't treat them as human beings."
I neared my face to hers. "Human beings break, don't they? And they die. Or they are lost. Or they are enslaved to the batarians and go mad and you have to mercy kill them. No, Commander Shepard wanted people who were as strong as her by her side...and guess what, the world isn't Commander Shepard."
"Stop talking," Jane pleaded.
"And so they died. They died but Torfan was taken. And when it was done, when those who remained where shell-shocked by the brutality and the slaughter, when one fourth remained, and Jane Shepard already thought 'yes, I can make them friends now!' reality hit Jane Shepard like a bag of bricks." I shook my head. "Nobody wants a Commander that sends his or her men to death. You scarred them, hoping to make them like you, but they weren't like you. And they hated you for making them like you, didn't they?"
"Stop talking. You weren't there. You can't know."
"And that's not all," I whispered. "No, Commander Shepard's tale has her become a Spectre! Here comes the chance of changing everything! Here comes the chance of proving what she's worth! But no, no! She can't fuck it up! She's fucked up everything until now, so this one thing, she's got to make it work!"
"Why are you doing this to me?" Shepard pleaded, but I pushed on.
"And that's why, that's why you didn't take Garrus -he didn't follow the rules. Why you killed the Rachni -they were a threat. Why you killed Wrex -he was a problem. Why you gleefully went on a rampage of death. To make your point valid. You stopped Saren, didn't you? You did what you could to make people like you, and wonders! They didn't. You tried so hard, didn't you? And they didn't want you. You were the child nobody wanted to talk to, nobody wanted to play with, and that nobody would have ever loved."

And I took a deep breath, and brought a hand to my forehead, exhaling loudly.
"And I am sorry."
Shepard looked at me, unsure.
"I am oh so sorry, my child."
"I am not-"
"You are," I said quietly. "I got it all right, didn't I?" I whispered. "Every bit of your backstory, of your background, every single one of your reasons, I got them right, didn't I?"
Shepard grimaced, and then nodded once.
"I should have gotten something wrong," I whispered. "But I didn't. I was guessing, Jane. Each step, each word, I was guessing, and yet I was right. Do you understand what I'm saying? You are my child because I created you."

"I-I...I don't understand what you're trying to say."
"A character is defined," I said, "By what is written. Take a story book. The Charming Prince is charming because he has a pointy sword and a horse, and fights off a dragon to rescue a princess. He embarks on a quest, but where did the prince come from?"
Shepard remained awfully quiet as he spoke. "It's never said, isn't it? The prince was born of a King and a Queen, that's logical. He's a prince. But what were their names? What were their names, Shepard?"
"I don't know?"
"See. That's what I'm talking about. That's precisely what I'm talking about. It's never mentioned. You can put 'John and Jane' 'Jacob and Miranda' 'Hululu and Hulula' and it won't change a thing. But...to get it right, on the first try, without knowing...your background, your backstory, your origin, they bear a mark I would recognize anywhere."
"What do you mean?" Shepard asked, trying to keep her voice sure. "That it was planned?"
"No more than a story is, Jane, no more than a story has the main character face trials ahead to grow up and mature. You still don't get it? You're too perfect. Your life's shit, but you're too perfect. You never miss a shot. You're never wounded."
"I died," Jane flatly said.
"That was a Game constriction."
"A what?"
"Not important now. What is important is that you are my child. My mind-child, my brain-child."
"Because you knew all of my life?"
"Because I know your motivations, Shepard. I know what you want to do now and I know why. I know what you harbor and what you wish for. I know that if anyone at all hugged you in this precise instant you'd start to cry like a broken toddler-doll."

Shepard bristled. "That's a lie."
"Is it?" I remarked. "I am thinking it's exactly what would happen, hence, unless I'm mistaken, it's what you're feeling."
"This is so screwed up it's not even funny," Shepard said after a moment. "It's got to be something else. I mean, you don't look older than me, you can't have..."
"A week later," I said. "A month later. Years later. They're what? Three words? Two? Decades later. That's two words. And what happens in the middle? Hand wave it away. Tell me every single day of your life from birth to death. It's an impossible task, and they're not important. That's the gist of it: it's not important. It would take me...five minutes, max, to come up with someone like you."
"Look here now," Shepard mumbled. "I am not a five-minute thought! I am a real person, and-"
"Oh, I never said you weren't Jane, I just said you are my brain child made manifest."
"You've got to have a screwed up sense of imagination to conjure up someone like me."
"All for the masses' entertainment. Do you know how much people would love to see a 'tough and strong and bloodthirsty' woman break down in tears? And I play to their expectations. I play so much to their expectations that they don't even realize I'm doing it. Until I strike hard and fast with some sort of new ground..." I slowed my breath down. "Like...you know...something like this."
I shrugged slowly, very slowly. "I know this entire thing has been engineered by something beyond my control, for reasons beyond my understanding...I understand this, I get this, but...it's not fair. What happened to you is not fair, Jane, and I am sorry."

Shepard began to laugh bitterly.
"You are sorry?" she asked. "You are sorry? You come here from nowhere, insult my pride, insult my life, smash and trample everything I believe and am, all for your own conceited sense of justice, and then you tear me apart and you expect me to believe you? You expect me to take your 'sorry' at face value? You expect me to have listened through all this tripe, all this judgmental sermon, all this crap, all to hear you ramble on and on about some bullshit 'five minute imagined thing' that I should be? You're mad. I'm not imagined. You can conjure any naked Commander Shepard in your head that you want, but I'm not them. I'm not. I'm real. And you weren't there. You weren't there on-"
"On the mud of Torfan as we fought through the lines of Batarian slavers," I said softly as Shepard spoke.
"You weren't there on Mindoir when the slavers descended, when the Batarian's knife dug deep in my mother's neck," Shepard spoke at the same time as I did, and her eyes were wide and she wanted to scream, but she couldn't stop. "And you weren't there when my father screamed and they hit him again and again on the ground until he stopped twitching, and you don't know what it feels like to watch a child's charred corpse on the ground hit by Batarian's lasers, and you don't kn-STOP SPEAKING!"

I grimaced.
"They're mine," Shepard whispered. "They're mine. All of them. They're my thoughts, my memories, my recollections."
"And they are my ideas," I said calmly. "They are my ideas. You drew the short end of the stick, Jane, but..."
"Are you god then?" Jane asked softly. "Is this what you're trying to tell me?"
"No, of course I'm not god," I deadpanned. "If this were Evangelion, I'd go on a long rant, but thankfully it's not so I can merely say: not touching that argument with a two-thousand mile long pole of Adamantium."

"I'm...false," Jane whispered. "I'm what? A story character? A...you spoke of a game," so she was a keen listener after all, "I'm a game character?"
"No," I drawled. "In, shall we say, 'countless realities' you are nothing more than bits of coding, of zeroes and ones. In here, in this world, you are real. You are a human, you have real emotions. You. Are. Real."
"But..."
"Countless realities. Countless. Infinite. In one you've got blue hair, in another red. In one your family's alive, in another they're dead. This one...you are precisely as I would have imagined you, if I ever wrote a story with a Renegade Shepard."
Jane clenched her fists.
"I want to punch you hard on the face."
"I am not responsible for your state. Even without me, you would still have existed. Don't mistake cause and effect. It wasn't me thinking of you that created you. I just had a thought one day, and you are just so casually a Shepard that fits the bill of what I thought. With countless infinities, it is easy to find the right one, provided you can access all of them."
"So, if I'm...like the one you imagined, what happens next?"
I sigh.
"This is my greatest shame...but you get a happy ending."

There was silence. It was long, and stretched. And it was awkward.
"What...did you say?" Jane asked softly.
"You get a happy ending," I said quietly. "It's...it's embarrassing to say but...you get a happy ending. All my stories do. I...I can't stand tragedies."
"You."
"I."
"You."
"I," I nodded softly.
"You can't stand tragedies."
"Uh-uh."
"W-What about...my family, that's..."
"A background never exposed to the reader unless warranted. More than a few lines are sufficient to deliver emotional turmoil, connection sometimes, and usually make the reader think 'Oh my god, that poor woman, I can empathize'. Empathy with the protagonist is a desirable trait."
"I-I...I am not a character to empathize with!"
"Not with that attitude, you're not."

Jane gripped her neck with her right hand. "But...do I have free will?"
"Of course you do."
She blinked. "What?"
"Free will isn't something I, or God-Author, can control. Of course...think of it as a train floating on tracks. The moment you decide to do something, then you do that. If it's entertaining for the masses, then the 'train' stays on your track. The moment you do something the readers wouldn't like, like, say, claim how beautiful and loving Reaper Sex is, the 'train', that is the Author, merely writes of how you kicked Krogan asses, and it's no longer 'your' story, but the story of a Shepard who, instead of talking of Reaper Sex one night, spoke of Krogan butt-kicking."
"I'm confused," Shepard mumbled.
"Don't think about it then," I shrugged. "But it doesn't matter at the moment. What matters is that you don't need to worry about that. You're free to do whatever you want to. Take a gun, point it at your head, pull the trigger and die. It's no longer going to be your story that the Author will follow. Simple as that."
"Why not?" Jane asked.
"Because you're what makes a story interesting," I said. "The Protagonists make the story interesting, the supporting cast helps them, and the antagonists defy them."
"I...I think I'm going to have a headache," Jane said, and slowly sat down on her bed's edge. "It's...too much."
"You're the first one I've told this about anyway," I replied. "It might be a good thing, or a bad thing."

"What do you mean?"
"There's this thing called 'Meta'. Imagine playing a game of blackjack while knowing the cards the dealer's going to deal. You're cheating with knowledge you aren't supposed to have."
"But you do have this knowledge," Shepard pointed out. "Maybe because you're meant to use it?"
"If that's the case," I snorted, "I don't understand. This could be a scientific experiment, a test, or a mere shit and giggles thing. But I can't understand why I'm not told the who. I don't have an overarching plot, an evil enemy antagonist to fight off...and this scares me."
Shepard didn't speak, still lost in her own thoughts.
"Because it means my enemy is something I can't fight. And the unknown...oh, how we fear the unknown..."
"You know," Jane said suddenly. "Brain child of yours or not, there's one thing I think you'd do better to know."

I raised an eyebrow.
"You sound like such a pretentious bastard with all your 'I know' or 'It's like this' or when you blabber on about this shit. Keep it to yourself, and do the world a favor."
She fell with her back against the bed.
"And stop being such a jerk, Brain-Daddy."
I blinked.
"The hell did you just call me?"
"I'm your brain-child, so that makes you my Brain-Daddy. Now, if you're done going through the middle-age crisis..."
"You rebound surprisingly quickly," I muttered.
"It's a requirement of being a brain-child of yours, apparently."

I snorted.
I chuckled.
"Well, that's good to know, because you see-"

Ka-chink.
Ka-chink.
Ka-chink.


"The moment you trust me," I whispered, "Is the moment I disappear."

Clunk.

And then there was only darkness.

//Got that. Got him? Got him!
 
Damn my heart with a rusty spoon that was amazing.

The crescendo of feels was done masterfully.

Now, you're going back to Naruto, right? That will be even more.
 
So incredibly meta. And Shepard is right, shade in this story is incredibly pretentious. And rather arrogant, too.

He's not a character I particularly enjoy reading about, but the plot interests me, and I like the clash, so I guess I'll keep reading.

EDIT: He also seems really weird to me. His thought pattern seems locked onto his assumptions, no open-mindedness at all.
 
So guys, with how Shade's been traveling here popping in and out of different settings. You think the passing of time has been one for one for each setting? Or do you think time will have passed differently form verse to verse?
 
Maybe time doesn't pass at all, and he appears immediately after he left. Wouldn't that be a twist? All that angst, for nothing.

After all, he's skipping universes with each jump. Something like time and causality is hardly an obstacle to overcome.:p
 
31
Chapter Thirty

I was in the dark.
Both literally and figuratively.
I tried to move, but couldn't.
"This is the most pathetic loading screen I have ever seen," I drawled out in the end.
//It's funny.

I froze.
I literally froze.
I froze and looked around in the deepest pits of the darkness I was in.
"I-Is someone there?"

//...

The darkness was taking longer than normal to recede. I didn't...get it.
"Anyone?" I tried.
I felt the cold of the slab of metal I was on.
My skin was starting to fill with goosebumps, and I began to softly grind my teeth. I tried to move, but there was something holding me still on the slab.
I couldn't move.

"I know there's someone out here in the dark," I said.
//The room isn't dark. The visual sensors are closed.
"What?" I mumbled. "Visual sensors? My eyes? They aren't closed. I can...feel them?"

//Shut up. Don't break protocol.
//Why not? It's not like anything can be done about this.
"I'd...I'd really like some answers, if possible," I said.
//Denial of answers increases stress. Remain silent. You know nothing of the Project.
"Project?"
//You're the one delivering information. Continue. Data Retrieval must continue.
"Data Retrieval?"

And then the darkness disappeared.

The village of Konoha greeted me.
The sun was high in the sky. The city was bustling with life, and...I was in Konoha.
I could feel the sun on my skin -unless it was an illusion- and I could feel the breeze -unless, again, it was an illusion.

"Teacher Shade!" the high-pitched scream broke me out of my thoughts near-immediately, as a blond boy flailed his arms around beneath me. I looked down and blinked.
"Naruto," I said. "Why are you wearing a trench-coat?"
"Cool isn't it?" he replied with a snicker, showing off a white leather trench coat with a flame etched on its back. "They sell these in shops!"
"They do?" I blinked, and then shook my head. "Wait. How much time passed?"
Naruto frowned, "Uh, a few weeks, teacher Shade. Where did you go anyway!? You know you scared the crap out of me when you disappeared like that!"
"How's the Academy going?" I asked.
"Oh! It sucks! It's like they think we're retarded or something! Just because we didn't pass the last chunk doesn't mean we don't know stuff! And you know what? Screw it! I've been playing hooky and working on my own on what you told me!"
"I didn't tell you much did I?" I asked. "Did you manage the Rasengan?"
"No Teacher," he grinned. "But now that you're here you can finish teaching me!"
I nodded softly.

This...was problematic.
I wasn't hearing any 'ka-chink' sounds. So...what next?
What, exactly, was going to happen next to make me travel once more?
And if I did travel...then the next world was going to be Shinji's once more, wasn't it?

"So, you filled the balloons with water like I told you?" I asked, and Naruto nodded.
"Yeah! But then I got sort of stuck. So I started putting chakra into it!"
"Somehow, I suspect your answer to everyday's problems is 'Put more chakra into it'."
Naruto chuckled. "Yeah, something like that."
"Well," I looked around. We were in a not-so busy street, and the sun was high. "You have some balloons with you?"
"Not a problem teach," Naruto replied. "I always carry a couple of them around to fill with paint, so...oh! By the way! I asked Sakura out!"
I looked at him. "Like I told you to?"
"Well, she was all mopey because she had failed and Sasuke hated her -stupid bastard thinking it's Sakura's fault they failed! But as they all failed, I have them in class this year too! And so I managed to go and watch a movie with her! It totally-wasn't-a-date, though." Naruto made a lopsided grin. "It was nice."
"Any plans on doing it again?" I asked offhandedly.
"Ah...no, teacher."
He grimaced. "I know why people don't like me, so until they stop looking at me and seeing the Kyuubi, it's better this way."
"Uhm," I turned thoughtful. "How badly are they treating you?"
Naruto shrugged. "Not any worse than before. It's just, it's one thing when they look at you and you're alone, it's another when you're going to the movies with someone."
"Oh, did she notice?"
"Nah, I'm sure she didn't," Naruto grinned. "But anyway, teacher! Let's get going!"

And Naruto dashed.
I sighed and followed him as we headed for the hot spring area. Well, we did need to fill the balloons with water.
"Now," I said as Naruto finished filling the balloons with water. "There are two ways to go at this. The easy, and wrong way, or the correct, but long way. The first is something that will enable you to master the Rasengan in a week, but will drastically reduce its fighting potential. The other will give you a weapon you can use at the snap of a finger, so strong it can kill a man in a blink without him ever realizing what happened."
Naruto frowned. "Why is that?"
"Because to learn the first, Kage Bunshin is a required technique," I drawled. "To learn the latter, Kage Bunshin is once again required -only to shorten the time to learn it- but it's not used the same way as you might think."
"Duh! I want the more powerful one!"
"All right," I sighed. "So, if I'm not wrong, the seals for the Kage Bunshin are...sort of like this," I made a cross sign with both hands.
"Only that?" Naruto asked, perplexed.
"It's a forbidden technique due to the chakra usage," I said. "And they might be slightly off, but it should be correct in principle."
"You're the teacher," Naruto said, and then began to pour chakra into the hand seal.
"Kage Bunshin No Jutsu!"

Nothing happened.
"It takes you a hour or a little bit more to learn it," I said. "Get to it."
"Kage Bunshin No Jutsu!"
It took Naruto a couple of hours.
And he changed the way the hand seals were halfway through, acting by instinct.
He...he actually found the correct hand seals by repeated trial and error.
"Now...I'm impressed," I muttered as I watched two Naruto look at each other and mimic each other's movements.
"Cool! I don't need a mirror any longer!"
"That's not how it works," I said. "Now, when a Shadow Clone disperses, the knowledge it has acquired ends up becoming yours. Now..." I looked at my chain, it was still tied to the 'original' one.
"Hey boss," the clone said, "I can't see and hear Teacher Shade, what's he saying?"
"Uh? Well..."
"Make him disappear, and then make more when I tell you to."
"All right!" Naruto nodded, "You...well, you didn't hear him, but he said to disappear because he'll tell me, and then I'll create you again."
"Oh, all right," the Clone-Naruto said, and popped away.

"Wow," Naruto mumbled. "It's so strange! I mean, I know I saw you talking to me, but I also know I was talking to thin air! That's...way bizarre!"
I shrugged. "Don't tell me."
"Well, what do I have to do now teach?"
"Now, you have the ball filled with water, and you must pour chakra into it until it explodes."
"Uh...I already did that by chance!" Naruto sheepishly said.
"Oh?" I raised an eyebrow. "Well, that's good. Then...second thing, you must pour that same amount of chakra, but avoid the ball's explosion by making the chakra spin in your hand."
I made a movement with my finger. "You must make the chakra spiral as it rises, and then ensure it also presses downwards once it reaches the top, basically, a spiral that must give birth to a sphere."
"Uhm..."
"You flush the toilet, don't you?" I said calmly.
"Duh!"
"And when you do, the water spins in a specific direction, right?"
"Uh-uh."
"So..." I drawled.
"Ah!" he clapped his hands excitedly. "I get it!"
"Good. Now, using two hands would make it easy to master, but you mustn't."
"Aw, and why not?!"
"Because it's the wrong way of doing it," I said. "Sure, it is a way, but tell me, what is more powerful? A handshake that can immediately become a mean to tear a man's limb off, or an attack that takes time to be prepared? A flawless rasengan is created in an instant, making it a technique meant to catch the enemy by surprise."
"Uhm...but I've got all those strong shinobi coming for me, right?" Naruto said, "And there's...the old man."
"Don't worry about that," I replied. "He's not going to die provided things go on a different path. Now that I told you the how...time to practice."
And Naruto did.

I think one of the passages involved a rubber balloon, while Naruto merely had bought plastic ones. Still, this simply meant that Naruto's rasengan would have less chakra than normal...and maybe, it meant it would be more easily controllable when he moved on -he could always increase the amount of chakra later on, making 'Bigger' Rasengans as he went along.

"Uh...How many clones should I make?" Naruto asked, stopping himself from doing the technique.
"Twenty," I replied dryly. "I'm pretty sure you can make up to one thousand, but I don't think they'd work well for prolonged amount of times. So, stick with twenty."
Naruto nodded. And then frowned. "I'm going to run out of balloons quickly if I train this way."
I hummed. "When that happens, you'll have to make do without. It's going to increase the time required, and it might make the technique a bit wrong at first...but think about this: your father didn't have these tricks, and he created the technique from mimicking the demons' spheres. So, you're following on your father's footsteps."

To those words, Naruto gave me a lopsided smile and grinned, brightly. "Yeah, you're right teach. That's so cool."
And then he finally began.
Predictably, he finished the balloons within mere minutes. His clones popped, and he made others.
He continued like that even without balloons, the chakra exploding when uncontrolled and hurting his hands -or making his clones explode- but he didn't stop.
I blinked when I saw the first dribbles of blood.
"Hey," I said. "It's enough."
"Nah, I can still go on," Naruto replied with a twitching smile. "This is nothing."
"You could let your clones do it for you," I retorted. "There's no need to do it yourself."
He shook his head. "It's one more. And I don't pop like them. I'm making progresses anyway, teach. I've got it lasting a minute now! I'm close to getting it to a stable form."
He ground his teeth and gripped his wrist with his other hand, before starting to spin the chakra in his open palm.
Even in Canon he worked on the Rasengan until he fell unconscious, but back then, it was to prove to Tsunade he could do it in a week.
Here...

Here he was working hard because the future demanded it.
The clones did help, but eventually even he had to give up on using them, and for the last stretch he went at it with his hands turning raw from the force of the chakra.
"Enough!" I barked, floating straight into his face making him yelp and jump a bit back.
"Teach! I nearly had it!"
"Enough!" I repeated. "We started with the sun high and now it's going down. It's enough for today!"
"But...But what if you leave again?" Naruto asked. "It sucks! I should train while you're here, right?"
I sighed. "Naruto," I said softly. "It still doesn't mean you should hurt yourself doing this." I floated near. "Lift your hand...see? You dug into your own palms, Naruto."
"Dad probably went through the same things," Naruto replied. "I mean...he might have, but maybe he was smart so he found a way around it."
"I don't know, but what I do know is that he'd be proud of you anyway," I said.

"Uh-uh," Naruto nodded numbly. "Well! How about ramen!?"
"First," I said, "You should bandage your hand," I added. "Or it will hurt like hell when you grab the chopsticks."
"Yeah, right," he sheepishly said. "Hey, maybe I should ask Sakura! She might even spoon feed me!"
"Just where are you getting these ideas, Naruto?" I said. "That's not how it works."
"What? It's not like that!?" Naruto mumbled.
"Unfortunately not," I replied, shaking my head lightly.
"Damn," Naruto mumbled. "Uh...how long are you sticking around this time?"
"I don't know," I replied. "I'm not in control of when I leave, Naruto."
"That's got to suck," Naruto said after a while, as he began to walk back home. "You could help me cheat during tests, and then I'd get better grades!"
"You don't really need me now that you have the Kage Bunshin," I said. "Just have them study in your place. If fifty of you read the same book, you're bound to memorize it eventually."
"Urgh..."
"Naruto," I said. "Discipline isn't always required, but some tiny smudges of it can go a long way. You're a genius in your own right; think what a little bit of discipline could do. You'd probably become the top of the class."
"Really?" he asked.
"Of course. Think about it. Everything Sasuke has, it's because of the potential in his eyes. Take those away and he's nothing. Everything you are, is because of you. Even if they took away your eyes, you'd still fight, wouldn't you? That's what he'll never have. His mind is set on killing his brother, and he'll never grow out of it until it will be too late for him," I sighed. "And then there the fact that having the sharingan simply means getting powers after powers at a random snap of the fingers."
"That's so unfair," Naruto mumbled.
"You tell me," I grumbled.

Something felt off however.
I couldn't place it, but something felt off. Terribly off.
It was as if I had my finger on it, but couldn't quite place it.
There was something off.
That was all I could remark on it.

//Preparations are done. You don't say. Quiet.
 
Ah, Naruto the one character in fiction that can take a shit ton of horrific revelations and yet continue going forward with a smile on his face.
So Shade realized with Shepherd that whatever back-story details he made about her that fit the narrative became true.
Does this work on the other characters?

"Well its obvious Naruto that your dad kept a secret vault containing his famous jutsu's under his house."
"Awesome lets g-AHHHHhh."
"Though it also makes sense that he layered it in complex traps and puzzles..."
 
32
Chapter Thirty-One

"Naruto, what did you do to your hands?" Ayame asked, and Naruto sheepishly looked sideways.
"Nothing much! I was training hard like always and I hurt my hand."
"Naruto," Ayame slowly shook her head, with a small smile on her face. "Really, you should know better."
"It doesn't even hurt anymore," Naruto was quick to add, "But it's not like I could waste time!" he grinned.
"Ah, it's good to see my favorite client back in high spirit," Teuchi said from his spot. "Did you ever manage to find out what happened to your teacher?"
I blinked.
Naruto sheepishly looked at his ramen cup.
"Uh-uh! He had a very urgent mission to go on to, but he came today and showed me another cool technique!"
"Remember the Kage Bunshin is forbidden," I said. "Kakashi Hatake knows it, so I don't think it's that 'prohibited', but it still is found on the forbidden scroll of seals, so take care not to mention it. Just like the Rasengan. What they don't know you can do can become a card to play further on."

"I'm glad," Ayame said, and then she added teasingly, "And about Sakura? How's it going? Did she fall for your charms?"
"Big sister Ayame," Naruto whined. "It's embarrassing."
"Oh now, it's just some teasing, Naruto," Ayame said with a light giggle.
"Ah, to be young," I sighed. "To be young and in love," I sighed again. Naruto whined harder.
I chuckled.

After dinner, Naruto walked back home, with me floating behind him.
I didn't know how long I was going to stay, but I was going to milk it for all of its worth.

Naruto sat down in his apartment and grinned.
I 'floated' in front of him, making it look as if I was sitting down too.
"So, tell me! Where have you been until now?"
I sighed. "I've seen three other worlds, completely different from this one. Met three other persons, all with different problems. And...I'm trying my hardest to help them all."
"Like you've been helping me?" Naruto asked.
"Yeah. I hope everything will turn out fine," I said. "By the way," I remarked. "You know what, I think there's some great potential you have that we can expand on."
"Really? What is it?"
"Element manipulation."
"Uh?"
"Would you like to shoot invisible blades off your fingertips?"
Naruto's eyes widened. "That would be so cool!"
"Good to know. Well...this is in case I disappear and you finish mastering the rasengan, so remember this...or maybe write it down."
Naruto nodded, and hastily grabbed a scroll and a...brush and an ink pot.

I took a deep breath, and then began. "First things first, your affinity is to 'Wind'. It's a good, if not excellent attacking technique. It's strong against Lightning and Weak against Fire, but here's the fact: you've got a lot of chakra. And by a 'lot' I really mean you've got a lot. That's why, you're perfectly on your way to learning and mastering all elemental chakra types, given enough time."
"Uh, really?" Naruto asked.
"Yes," I nodded. "It also helps that...well, you're sort of predisposed for it."
"I...am?"
"Yes, but that's an even longer story, and a bit problematic. I'll explain more once I finish wrapping my head around it, but for the moment...suffice to say that as long as you work hard enough, you'll manage everything."
Naruto grinned. "So...what's this about taking notes, teacher?"
"Well, to begin with, in order to learn how to manipulate wind, you must imagine two circular patterns in your head, both going in opposite directions, and both forming a very thin dividing line between one another," I said. "That is the edge of the wind, the 'cutting power' so to speak. The first thing is to learn how to cut a leaf, so you'll find plenty around Konoha. The second is to learn how to cut flowing water, but before that we'll do a checkpoint and try to cut still water. If that works, we'll try and 'extend' the range of cutting from the hand to a distance, and then we'll increase it further to acceptable lengths for combat."
Naruto scribbled down dutifully.
"Now," I continued, "Here are the important things you must remember, but you must not write down."
Naruto frowned, but nodded.
"Shimura Danzo's a wind affinity user in Konoha, but he's also the one who ordered the Uchiha execution-"
"What!"
"Quiet, Naruto," I hissed, and Naruto brought a hand to his mouth.
"And he's got the cells of the first Hokage inside him, coupled with Sharingan all brought up to the Mangekyo level and that can be sacrificed to alter or rewrite reality as he sees fit," I continued.

Naruto's eyes widened. "Really?"
"Yes," I sighed. "It can even be time-triggered to allow one to return to life after enough time has passed."
"You're joking."
"Nope."
"I want the sharingan too!" Naruto grumbled. "I'd have all the ramen in the world then!"
I sighed.
"That's what you'd do with reality-altering powers?"
"Uh-uh! Ramen for everyone! And I'd become Hokage."
"Yeah, the second one's more in line with it."
"So...how do I get the sharingan?" Naruto asked.
I looked at him. "You don't, Naruto. Unless you manage to pluck an active sharingan eye into an eye socket of yours and hope for it to root, you're not going to get one."

"Damn, it figures," Naruto grumbled.
"Your dreams of altering reality and having ramen everyday are now thwarted, my young padawan," I said with a light tone. "We'll have to plan for world domination then."
"Really?" Naruto asked, blinking.
"No. It was a joke."
"Oh," Naruto frowned. "I don't get it."
"Doesn't really matter. Anyway, you should go to bed. There wasn't anything else to tell you, and tomorrow's another day."
"I want to stay awake," Naruto whined. "You still haven't told me more about the other worlds you went to! Come on! I'm curious!"
"Naruto," I sighed. "Well, why not."

And so I spoke of the tall towers of Tokyo-Three, and of the city of London, and I spoke of Omega. I didn't tell him about the time, or about the others, but I did give a general picture of what the other worlds were like...and, predictably, Naruto slumped asleep soon after I spoke of the very large Omega, a village dug into the rocks of a mountain flying in the air.

As Naruto slept, I hummed and took out my bloc notes.
I had heard enough to understand there was some sort of 'Data Retrieval' going on, but that was all.
That and the fact I wasn't actually 'Alone in the Dark'.

But if that was the case, then my 'music' meant absolutely nothing. I didn't have a God-Author subtly whispering things at me, and I didn't have a subconscious suggestion delivered to me through the songs of my Ipod.
This had to be hard-coded science. Maybe this was a virtual reality, a sort of 'Sword Art Online' only made in order to observe, rather than interact with.
Hell, maybe I was going at this wrong and all I had to do was to stay put and quiet, rather than try to form bonds or breaking them.

Oh, maybe that was why I disappeared once the bond was formed.
This wasn't only about them. Maybe this had to do with me too.

Like...Star Trek had that prime directive based on 'Non-Interference', and I was interfering.
Then again, there was no proof either way.

The village of Konoha, at night, was very peaceful.
It was also very boring.

I plucked the Ipod into my ears for just a song, and then sighed.

No music came of it.
I frowned.
The battery was deader than dead.
"I...really?"
I quietly moved to my bloc notes.
Each and every page was black.
Covered in ink.
I couldn't write on it.

I was...without music, and without something to write on.
Well, no, the latter was easily remediable, but...what was the point if I couldn't carry it to the next world?
I moved around, and finally proceeded to pull a deck of cards from a cupboard -I knew Naruto had one somewhere- and began playing solitaire.
It was better than nothing.

I played solitaire for three hours.
Do you know the definition of Madness? It's doing the same thing again and again expecting a different result. But do you know what the thing is that can send a man mad? Isolation.
Naruto was sleeping. My only contact with the world was gone. I could 'close my eyes', but without the pleasant lull of music, no, precisely because I was without it, I couldn't even let my mind wander in places that didn't turn me into a sodding wreck.

Naruto slept peacefully instead, a smile on his face.
He was such a lucky kid.

The morning came all too late in my meager opinion, but this time, a loud series of knocks forced Naruto to gasp and jump from his bed.
He gave me a quick look, appearing happy I was still there and then quietly tiptoed his way to get into his clothes.
I frowned, and then floated out of the door to check.
Iruka Umino was knocking furiously on the door.
"Naruto! I heard you moving! Open the door you brat, you've been skipping school too long!"
Naruto slid open the window of his apartment, and then jumped out of there.
Iruka was not stupid.

He dashed straight for Naruto in mid-air and tackled him.
Only, the tackle ended up in Iruka grabbing a smoke cloud. I frowned, and then looked at where my chain was pointing. So...Naruto had already decided to use the Kage Bunshin as a mean of distraction?
Good boy! Smart boy!
Whoever thought Naruto was stupid deserved a pitchfork from an angry 'Konoha Mob' up his own head. The kid was great. I hadn't even thought about suggesting it, but he was doing great.
I floated right by Naruto's side, as the boy rushed in the opposite direction of his house -and the academy- and I sighed. "You really shouldn't be skipping school, you know," I drawled.
"Bah, it's boring!"
"Yes, but you could send a Kage Bunshin in your place."
"I don't want to remember boring stuff!"

I quietly brought a hand to my face. "Fine. Try not to get noticed as you reach the training grounds. Use a combination of rushing in alleys, using Henge to change your appearance, and then rinse and repeat a few times while heading in a precise direction...then use a Kage Bunshin with a Henge and go in an opposite one, while keeping your real self under Henge heading straight."
"Uhm...Teacher Shade? Why would I do that?" Naruto asked, puzzled.
"In case Iruka starts trailing you. Once you're done, ensure your Kage Bunshin that reaches another training ground reverts to your 'form' but does not pop away. You, instead, remain in the Henge and practice kunai throwing until I tell you so."
Naruto nodded, satisfied, and did just that.

I wasn't sure if Iruka was going to catch the trail or not, but I didn't need to worry. Iruka merely found Naruto's clone in the training ground, and then proceeded to 'pop it' by mistake while trying to punch his head.
Naruto winced in the midst of kunai throwing.
"Now, concerning your Henge. Make yourself older and with a chuunin flak jacket and a forehead protector on your head," I said, "And turn your hair dark. Yes. Like that. Make your jaw a bit more squared, and your nose larger and broader. Good. Stop like that. Perfect. Now, a goatee? Excellent!"
Naruto grinned. "And now, take on a sour face, like Sasuke's, yes, exactly. Return to throwing kunai now and put strength in it, as if you were angry about something. And whatever happens, don't use the 'Teacher' on Iruka when he arrives. Don't call him by any name to begin with, because you're a chuunin who doesn't know him."

Iruka flickered in the training ground a few minutes later.
"Excuse me sir," Iruka said. "Have you seen a student of the academy-"
"You said something?" Naruto gruffly said, turning to stare in the eye Iruka.
"I'm looking for a student of mine, blond hair, blue eyes, always running around screaming."
"Haven't seen him here," I said, and Naruto caught the drift and replied with my words. "I'll send him your way if I see him, man."
"Thank you, sir," Iruka replied, and then rushed off.

I gestured at Naruto to resume kunai throwing.
A few minutes later, and I gave him a nod. "All right, in the future, we'll need to find you a better place to train though, like an empty training ground or an abandoned one."
"Uh-uh," Naruto nodded. "So! Twenty Clones coming right up!"
Under my watchful gaze, Naruto continued training.
His one-handed rasengan reached the three minutes mark by the time lunch came around, and when the day passed and the night fell, the rasengan was at its ten minute mark.
Which was reasonably more than what Naruto had ever shown to need as 'time' during the usage of it, but he needed to make it 'stable'.

"Then let's finish this. Try it on a tree or a rock," I said, and the remaining Naruto grinned, before launching himself forward rasengan in hand.
The rasengan ripped through the tree Naruto had chosen with ease, as if it had been made of thin paper.
The chakra sphere disappeared as the tree rumbled but held, a large concave section now dug into its bark.
"Good. Remember, the Rasengan kills people. Don't use it unless you're facing an enemy."
Naruto nodded. "Yes teacher."
"Now, food, rest, and repeat tomorrow."
Naruto grinned. "Sure thing teacher!"

And inwardly I sighed. Thankfully, I could play a lot of card games against myself during the night -there was a lamppost outside Naruto's house, and my chain reached all the way there.
So as Naruto slept after a dinner of ramen, I proceeded to sit down, or 'floating inches away from' the ground, and took out the 'pulled' deck of cards.
"This time...let's try and play blackjack."
And then I frowned. "IF I play blackjack alone, I'm the House or the unlucky sod?"
I sighed.

//Data retrieval is proceeding slowly. Toying with probabilities has a limit. You cannot take away what has not been given.
 
Jeez Shades a better teacher then...
Well everyone.

He figured out how to get Naruto to pay attention; don't go into specifics.

So is the Hokage just content to let Sasuke and Naruto repeat a year?
This always surprised me, both of them have huge potential yet no one takes them under their wing.
Then again its not war time so maybe they don't mind keeping their childhoods intact for a little longer.

//Data retrieval is proceeding slowly. Toying with probabilities has a limit. You cannot take away what has not been given.
Is the ominous voices harvesting Shade's misery?
This is gonna be one of those things that when it gets revealed I'm going to go "Oh, I get it!" then spend twenty minutes rereading all the chapters in a new light.
 
... You know, I'd rather you used either a simple 'Ayame' or 'Ayame nee-chan' if you have to. 'Big Sister Ayame' seems very ... off.

Also, nice to know he's at least begun to notice how many assumptions he made.
 
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