SASUKE: The Fanfiction

[Ravenaelwood]

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PROLOGUE
KONOHA​

SOMETHING in the way we existed—forgotten, discarded beings, bare to the core as souls lost to the Styx—changed. Our perception, catatonic, locked against the emptiness of the void; a flare of desperation for a not-second 'til a kindling of reality emerged again. Calming. Our memory laid bare; a flimsy string stretched unto infinity. Our core—our heart—without a pulse; eroded; nonexistent; then not; the cycle unending; until it was not.

Then, of course, our body was bound to the harsh geometry of language; our existence a singularity for the first time in what felt like aeons; leaving behind the structureless non-sequitur of meaning with which we roamed freely through open planes devoid of colour or concept. Awareness came as a blow to the soul; we vividly remember the first conscious moments of our mortal life filled with a feeling of near-perpetual dread and existential angst. Long before our untempered vocal cords could form coherent words; before the fuzzy haze in our vision cleared; before the turbulent ensembles of emotions that assailed us on a near-constant basis disappeared. A myriad of questions swam through our mind even as our human guardians—ginormous as they were back then—made nonsensical noises at us from where they were poised at the edge of our crib.

Why? We would cry out, fearful gaze roving the world around us. Who? What? Where?

In those moments in which our physical vulnerability became most apparent, we would wonder what resistance our feeble form could present in the face of the hostile universe around us. For a long time—at least until sheer rationality won out—the loneliness, despair and feeling of insignificance were utterly maddening, slowly chipping away at our feeble mind, syphoning at its core; eroding our s͚͍̘̠̖̣͙̰̖a̺͈͕̜͎ͅn͎̞̯̖̦i̟̫̹̼͍t̞̯y̱ͅ.

Then we felt it. A killing intent. An aura so sinister, so cruel, so malicious, that it eclipsed everything else we've felt since assuming our mortal form. In our heart rose a soul-stirring horror. Then we laughed, much to the surprise of our older sibling who cradled us in his protective embrace. It amused us to no end, how low we let ourself fall. Such a minuscule existence frightened us; were we so weak as to succumbing to fearing our own mortality?

Our fears dispersed, leaving us weary, listless and confused. No longer caring about our imminent demise or bodily harm did we discover the potent essence of ennui; the mortal's perception of time utterly torturous. With time though, we grew larger and stronger and soon found ourself capable of some locomotion, serving the purpose of granting us a limit of autonomy. It was then, upon crawling out of the confines of our parents' domicile, our gaze no longer clouded by fear, did we first truly notice the full extent of the world we found ourselves in; a rather unremarkable sight it was; disappointing.

But despite our failed expectations—not that we could say for certain what said expectations were—we did truly appreciate its beauty, the apparent simplicity of it all; bewitching in a myriad of simple ways. Hours a day we would spend pondering on matters of the mundane from our post on the tatami mat by the door, Mother having left the shoji open for our convenience; her caring, ever-watchful eyes trained on us from the periphery of her vision.

We grew larger still and soon graduated from watching great swathes of trees sway hypnotically in the breeze, and clan members busying themselves with training and mundane work to occasionally shadowing our brother, Itachi, on minor errands out of our clan's district into the village. Other times we went on aimless strolls up the mountainous height that was the Hokage rock. On such trips, we would sometimes pause to marvel at the anomalous gravitas and sense of sobriety the distant skyline had on us. It was only then we realised that despite the might of our collective consciousness, we were but an insignificant speck in the heart of an organic machine, tumbling along amongst its many, many gears. The mortality of our physical form fully ensured this. We could feel it, the inability of the human mind to even begin to properly host our ego. Our consciousness. It felt… restraining.

Every day, tens of thousands would tend to the contraption that was this village, living and toiling in it, serving the mechanism of the burgeoning metropolis, making it bigger, better, story by insignificant story and idea by Jejune idea. On the days we toddled not on our brother's trail, or spent hours staring in a ponderous haze as the world went through its phases, we pilfered father's extensive collection, scouring through a myriad of scrolls in a never-ending quest for stimulation. In our free time, we would find ourself fixated on the oddest of things; the erratic flow of traffic through the clan's district; the way the northern winds ruffled the iridescent plumage of ravens perched on the powerlines above; the twisting haze suspended in the air following the execution of a fire-based jutsu. Even the rivulets of sauce flowing down the length of a noodle hanging from a pair of chopsticks possessed the capacity to so fully enthralled us.

With time, life grew busier. Between training with Father, Brother and Shisui-kun, and attending the academy, we possessed less time to simply ponder in solitude, a distraction we had grown rather fond of. By the age of six, we had fully come to terms with the ineptness of the common man; any conversation we might have with most likely destined to be tedious and dim-witted, with social relations, in general, appalling and rote; both early tutelages in the recursive nature of the human experience.

Despite it all though, despite life's many flaws, despite the multitude of fears that plagued our early life, and despite our recurring bouts of existential angst, we cherished our new existence; above all, we cherished the people in it.

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[Ravenaelwood]

001 - Our Blood
KONOHA​

THE pain slowly seeped in, despair following closely behind. Rage came after, coursing through our veins as a writhing stream of corrosive chakra. We looked up, a shuddering exhale escaping our lungs as realisation dawned on us. A malevolent desire burned in a corner of our mind as a cold dark flame, scorching the very fringes of our being.

"...Why?"

The question slithered out of our maw as a guttural exhale. The accursed weasel remained silent, crimson eyes staring blankly at us. Itachi … We always wondered why Father named him after such an ignoble creature; tenjō no kotowari o shōakuseshi hitomi; heavenly eyes that see the truth of all of creation without obstruction. The myths of the Mangekyō's divine clairvoyance probably weren't myths after all.

"Why?" we asked again, our mortal form struggling to express the full extent of our ire; a splitting headache; a certain hollowness in the guts, afflicting us as a daemonic malediction. A pounding at the nape of our neck, and then something hot, like the sparks of a nascent flame, shooting up our spine and concentrating behind our temple. A warmth unlike that of tears wriggled and squirmed within our eyes. The world coloured red and the sparks became an inferno, enveloping our entire body. Our eyes, the core of the blaze, burned hot like magma.

"...Curiosity," the beastly thing replied, its gaze unflinching. "I wished to measure my vessel; my worth."

Our breath caught. A soft chuckle escaped our maw; laughter; cackling. "Your worth?" we asked releasing Mother's cooling fingers from our grasp. Woe onto us, stalwart lover of mortal things. The foul thing we once called brother stared blankly at us; we stared back with a hopeless heart and hollowed soul.

Our eyes itched as two lines of hot, viscous tears flowed down our cheeks. Our intent heaved, heeding our call; the universe heaved back in protest. They were not coming back. Not Mother, not Father, not Oba-san Uruchi with her penchant for gifting snacks nor her genial husband. Nobody. They were gone. Forever.

Clawed fingers struck forwards, the air screeching as it was parted cruelly by our chakra-coated digits. With a harsh crack, we disintegrated a wooden pillar across the room. Itachi stood to our right staring down at us. Mockingly.

"Baby brother," it said, "you're weak. Pathetic. Do you wish to kill me? Settle for hating me instead … Hate me, and live like the failure you are. Continue clinging unto your worthless existence for as long as you can; this little I grant you for the sake of my own amusement."

We were upon him the next moment, fist shooting towards his forehead; the weasel, true to his name, flickered for a millisecond before reappearing at the exit. Our gazes clashed and only then did we realise the extent of our folly. Crimson spun, twisting, morphing as it birthed a three-bladed shuriken.

"Tsukuyomi," the weasel whispered. The world around us sloughed off, melting as if drenched in acid, to leave behind a perverted replica of its essence.

"Kai!" We resisted but the Genjutsu refused to dispel.

"Sasuke!" We swivelled on our heels to see Mother on her knees, Father by her side, his countenance solemn. "Run—" The weasel struck; blood gurgled past Mother's parted lips; a crimson line formed around her pale neck; her severed head slid to the ground with a morbid thud: Father's followed immediately after.

We blinked, struck senseless by the inexplicable suddenness of it all. A cold gasp; we blinked again, eyes watering as we fell to our knees. Lies. A clinical portion of our ego reminded us. They were already dead. Then, mockingly, the bodies disappeared, replaced by another caricature.

…He was toying with us, we realised.

***​

How long has it been?

"Pathetic."

How many times had it been now?

"Sasuke! Run!"

"Mikoto!"

We weren't sure, but did it matter?

'...measure my vessel; my worth,' he said. 'Curiosity,' he called it.

Steel.

Blood.

Bile.

Tears.

The spiralling crimson orbs.

Rinse.

Repeat.

…

Repeat

Repeat

Repeat

Endlessly, the caricature played. With a hint of dramatic flair, it evolved with each new iteration; mocking us; mocking our inadequacy; our resolve. But the first memory remained; the original untainted by his filth. The swaying—ruined—Uchiha logo hanging from Oji-san Teyaki's vandalised senbei shop; the cold corpses, young and old, littering the district streets; rivulets of the noblest blood pooling in the gutters. Our parents; murdered by a weasel.

The Weasel.

The door opened and in came a figure in white. Beautiful as mortals went. Dark-haired and lithe, the woman—a nurse, we realised after a moment of observation—stood frozen halfway into the room with a tray of medication in her arms.

"...Otousan," she whispered, quivering under our gaze. The tray and its delicate contents slowly slid from her hands, and with a metallic clatter and the tinkling peal of broken glass, it hit the ground. We stared into her eyes, her soul, for a moment—our reflection haggard. Undignified—before looking away.

"Leave me."

The nurse fled from the room.

A masked figure donning a flak jacket—ANBU—jumped onto the window sill in a display of superhuman agility as he drew a kunai from a pouch attached to his thigh.

"Sasuke?"

"I said, I want to be left alone," we croaked, voice hoarse. We had been screaming, we realised. The rage still simmered within us, unabated, but we were far too exhausted to continue expressing it.

A brief pause.

"...Very well," the ANBU said into the ensuing silence before leaping away.

***​

"Sasuke."

"Yes?" We replied, blinking away the haze in our vision.

"Are you listening?" the Hokage asked staring down at us.

"Yes."

"...Sasuke-kun, your brother, Itachi—"

"Murdered my clan out of curiosity; 'to measure his vessel, his worth,' he said."

"...Has been placed in the bingo books," the Hokage continued after a momentary pause, "as an S-rank criminal, to be brought in dead or alive."

A pause

"...Is that all?"

"Itachi will face justice for his crimes, Sasuke-kun, I assure you that."

"...And how do you expect me to believe that?" we asked, tilting our head in curiosity as we turned to face the man. "You failed to protect my clansmen from his wanton lust on Konoha's soil; how do you expect me to believe you are capable of bringing him to justice? What use is the fanciful Kasa you wear on your head if even an entire clan is not safe in your care?"

The Hokage grimaced; we looked on, expression morphing into one of disappointment. The man disgusted us. His attitude, so replete with self-righteousness and hypocrisy. Undignified. Spineless. Weak…

Pathetic.

"You need not worry yourself, Hokage-sama," we tell the senile, old thing. "I will sort this matter out myself."

"...Forgive me, Sasuke-kun," Sarutobi said with a sigh, eyes downcast, "I wasn't strong enough. I know you must be feeling hurt but remember, it doesn't matter what you do; if you live and die as you like. However, no matter what road you end up taking, again, remember, the village always comes first."

I wasn't strong enough. The words stung. With a painful exhale, we ignored the Kage, turning away to look out the window at the rainstorm brewing outside. The air was thick with the scent of cleaning solution, ethanol, and rain—undertones of copper and salt.

It tasted of blood. Our blood.

 

[Ravenaelwood]

002 - Uchiha
KONOHA​

The boy is a threat. He possesses the Mangekyō. As far as I am aware, his brother had not awakened it until he was twelve; he is just six.

Danzo…

He is a risk to the village, Sarutobi!

He is a child.

Exactly why he must not be left to possess such power!

What would you have me do?

…The boy cannot be left with those eyes; we must seize them. I have seen him; the anger that burns in him is one that can only be quelled in blood. We cannot—must not—let that seed germinate!

…I still vividly remember your obsession with Itachi. Every time you came over, you ended up talking about the boy. What's so different now? I daresay we should be glad we have him; a shinobi shaping up to have twice the genius Itachi is can only be a boon to the village. It would be utter foolishness to cripple him out of blind fear. Talk less of his brother's reaction should he find out we did such a thing.

This is different! Utterly so! Even Itachi would understand the risks of leaving the boy as he is!

…First, you have his brother massacre his clan. Now you desire to cripple him for crimes he has yet to commit? You are so hasty to sentence him, Danzo. Why? Does the boy terrify you?

…You would risk the village's future to shield an Uchiha spawn? Tobirama-sensei would be disappointed in you, Hiruzen.

***​

TIME, ever the swindling crook. He steals the trustfulness of youth, changing it for the bitter truth. Joys he steals and also tears; pilfers hopes and filches fears. It's been three weeks since the… incident; the medical-nin in charge of our case suspiciously reluctant to have us discharged. The trek home was irritating; we could hear them; the peasant folk; their miserable attempts at being discreet failing quite reprehensibly; some in pity, others in gloating schadenfreude. We committed those faces to memory. At a few foolishly whispered words the urge to wring necks rose in us but we stomped the feeling down. We knew they were watching; the ANBU. They always are; unless, of course, during a massacre that is.

The bustle of the village we shed behind us as we slipped into the haunting bubble of silence that was our clan's district. Segregated from the village and banished to the outskirts as it was, the Uchiha compound was devoid of life. At the sound of cawing overhead, our gaze flickered upwards towards a mundane crow perched on the powerline above. In a blur, our left hand flickered and the despicable creature exploded in a shower of iridescent feathers and viscera as a kunai shot through it.

We huffed in annoyance as we watched the projectile disappear into the distance. It would probably be a pain in the backside to retrieve. That was impulsive, we thought in annoyance. A horrible trait to possess as a ninja. Father had long drilled that fact into us. To forget his teachings at such a time … We shook our head, ridding ourself of the thought. Now was not the time; our attention returned to the present. As promised, the bodies had been cleared out, the only reminder of the weasel's rampage being the occasional bloodstain or vandalised property. As we walked through the empty walkways and vacant cobblestone roads a sense of melancholy befell us. They were gone, we remembered. For good.

Our clan's legacy was now our's to care for and protect; all attempts by Sarutobi to forsake this responsibility and accept a domicile governed by the treacherous village we will continue to thwart mercilessly. Those unworthy Konoha dogs were not to be trusted with anything. Not now. Not ever.

***​

Time, ever still the swindling crook. He steals our hope, our daring bold, leaving nought but wisdom's yellow gold. A week goes by. Then another following the charade that was the funeral service prepared in honour of our clansmen. With a sigh, we drop the wet rag we held into a bucket by our feet. The tin container jiggled noisily as we carried it to a nearby drain, the bloody water within swaying with a soapy swish. Our gaze flickered to what had previously been a bucket of water and cleaning solution. Red. It was tinged with the overwhelming red that seemed to be the hallmark of our clan. Red blood, Red eyes. Red fan. Red fire.

Red.

Pathetic—

The metal handle in our palm snapped spilling the contents of the bucket onto the floor. We stared at the flowing liquid for a few moments in stunned silence before sighing. Hunger, some part of us rumbled. With another sigh we discarded the shorn metal band and cleaned the mess before returning to our pare—no, our domicile to have breakfast. even though the sun felt hot on our back. It was already late noon. The perfect time for the first meal of the day, it seems.

With somewhat of a lazy, undignified shamble, we entered the kitchen and began looking around for anything and everything that might still be edible. After a few moments of searching, we came up with a bowl of hoshiume-dried plums from three days ago. It had signs of mould on it. In one of the lower drawers, we found a carton of milk that might or might not be good, a half-eaten, palm-sized senbei sitting on a covered plate on the kitchen counter, and a box of raw soba noodles in one of the upper drawers. Disappointed, we tossed the dried plums, bowl and all, into the sink, filling it with soapy water. Taking a bite from the desiccated cracker we flicked the cooker's dial a few times to confirm if it still had fuel. It did.

Twenty minutes later, we dropped our spoon in the empty bowl before us and drank the last droplets of milk in the carton. The meal could at the very best be considered edible with its strong, earthly tones and mushy texture; nothing like the way mother used to make it. The milk was still good. Maybe. We were not certain. Then again, we did not care as long as the hunger was sated. We tidied the kitchen, making sure to reorganise it exactly the way we met it.

A few minutes later, we sat at our favourite spot by the exit watching as a sapling swayed, its leaves rustling with the gentle breeze. In silent meditation, our mind achieved clarity. We could feel the muted aura of their life force. Suppressed, like a dim flame in the dark expanse of the void. We could hear them, Konoha's watchdogs; their relaxed breathing and decelerated heartbeats served to make detecting them all the more difficult; Jōnin, most probably. One to our left in our periphery and the other directly in front, hiding in plain sight. For what it was worth, even the weasel held our sensory skills in high regard. Father could find no higher praise to describe our talent at it.

With time and practice locating them was getting easier, and faster, but only by a little. No matter how talented we were, they were still more experienced after all. Regardless, this had to be done; if we ever truly desired to find the answers we seek we needed to be beyond the reach of Konoha's scrutiny.

***​

We loathe remembering the rush of pride we once felt at being accepted into this… institute of learning. Now that we look back we realise the academy offered little that our clan did not already offer in surplus. In terms of knowledge, there was little we did not already have or could not acquire from our archives. Everything from the history of the shinobi world continuing from the Sage of Six Paths. The alliances, treaties, and laws of uniformity among the different lands. Fundamentals, advanced techniques, practical strategies in fighting. Theory on physical ninja arts, kekkei genkai. Introduction to chakra. Tailed beasts, ninja beasts. Even an overview of sage barriers and natural energy fundamentals sat tucked away in Father's study. At least they did until the Hokage had the ANBU "relocate" almost everything for safekeeping until he was certain we could safeguard the secrets they contained on our own. Thankfully, we had long memorized the texts. Our losses would have been unimaginable otherwise. Training partners the academy did offer as replacements now that the ones we had previously were all now dead, but the offer in itself was a moot point given our reluctance to expose ourself to further scrutiny. Yet that didn't mean attending the academy was destined to be a waste of time. Our goal here was simple: Intelligence exfiltration.

Whispers ran amok and numerous eyes waxed over our groomed form as we crossed the threshold into the classroom. For a few seconds, the mutterings continued, slowly pittering until an uncomfortable silence finally descended on the class. Our gaze panned around at the gathered assortment of children, noble and peasant-born alike, as we carefully catalogued each and every one of them, sorting and ranking by estimated importance and potential. Most names we did not know, having never bothered to find out in the first place. They were just that unimportant in the grand scheme of things. Now? Not so much. A few were rather easy to deduce though; one Hyuga, an Inuzuka, an Akimichi, and an Aburame.

Our gaze subtly increased in intensity as we glanced at the instructors in front of the class. As usual, the two had snuck in while the students were distracted. "Ahem," the one to the left with a scar across his face said, clearing his throat as we made our way towards a vacant bench. "Uchiha-san, I am glad to see you back here with us. For the duration of your stay here at the academy, I will continue to be your homeroom teacher and he would be my assistant"—the scarred one gestured towards his grey-haired partner. "As before, you can refer to us as Iruka-sensei and Mizuki-sensei respectively, or simply, sensei. Understood?"

We let the question hang in the air for a few awkward moments as we took our time to settle in before replying with a curt nod. "...Yes. Sensei."

"...Good. Now, if you don't mind, please reintroduce yourself to the class."

Our gaze panned around once more at the students observing in silence, not once pausing on a single figure. They all knew who we were. There was not one student who could claim to be ignorant of our identity. "Uchiha," we said simply, letting the weight of the word permeate the atmosphere as we turned to look out the window.

"Sasuke Uchiha."

 

[Ravenaelwood]

003 - Assassination
KONOHA​

"Uchiha Sasuke," Iruka called, and we stood up and proceeded to the front of the classroom. "Here you are. You did very well." A large circle was drawn around the score "100" at the top of the page we were handed.

"Once again, you're the only one to get a perfect score on the test. Keep up the good work!"

Hearing this, our classmates devolved into an undignified, rambling mess as if they expected anything less. We bowed slightly to the teacher and then returned directly to our seat. Three weeks had passed since we resumed studying at the academy; eight since the weasel's rampage. Though, we had yet to stumble on any particularly valuable pieces of information. A few tidbits here and there we did find of course, but nothing substantial. The lack of significant progress was disheartening, but not unexpected.

Once Iruka managed to settle the rabble, class resumed and the man began a long, unimportant rant about Konoha's history. We paid attention of course, solely for the purpose of cross-referencing what information he fed us with what we already knew. Similarly, we discretely observed the rest of the class, the noble scions most especially, in hopes of gleaning parasitic data from their reactions to the lecture. This wasn't the first time we would be doing this, and over the past few weeks, we had observed a few minor discrepancies that might, or might not, prove important in the long run.

The final bell ran, signalling the end of the last class of the day and we spent a few moments sorting and archiving the data we had gathered. The human mind being what it was necessitated we wrote down the vast majority of the data we gathered before it was inadvertently wiped from organic memory. The notes were encrypted of course, in a tri-layered, multi-structured code we devised using four distinct root languages that we invented for this sole purpose. Should we ourself attempt to decipher this code with only fundamental knowledge of the components that went into its creation, we estimate expending between six to twelve years before making any significant progress in that regard. Essentially, for most, it would be an uncrackable cypher, and for the obscure minority that could possibly decrypt it, it would take far too long for it to be worth the effort.

As we packed up our belongings in preparation to return to our domicile, we noticed two auras lingering in the periphery of our vision. Three if you included the third standing farther off as it observed the two observing us. We recognised all three without having to turn around. The most valuable of the bunch was the third standing farther off. Naruto Uzumaki, A.K.A. The Demon Fox. Information on the child was vague and unreliable at best, but from what we knew he was some Nine-Tails fellow, an apparently malevolent being of unimaginable power trapped in human form.

The other two were Ino Yamanaka—the only child of the Yamanaka Patriarch, Inochi Yamanaka—and Sakura Haruno, daughter of a non-shinobi, merchant family. Passable skill for a child her age, but a civilian nonetheless.

Being observed wasn't particularly strange, given how often we found ourself subjected to scrutiny. What we found strange was the fact that the three seemed to be approaching us for whatever reason. Three weeks since we resumed school and we still had not had anything resembling a conversation with any of our classmates. They naturally hesitated in the face of the outstanding grades we got in each and every one of our classes. All of them had turned ever-so-timid in our presence, apparently intimidated even when that wasn't our intention. We desired to befriend a few, the nobles most especially. Even though people tend to subconsciously radiate information even whilst engaging in the most mundane of tasks, the value of said information could at best be debated. Mining data through dialogue would be so much more efficient. And easier if we possessed a tangible hold on the flow of the conversation. But we knew they were watching. ANBU. They always were. At least one was always within earshot of us. We knew that much given how proficient we were getting at sensing their auras. Actively trying to befriend anyone would set off more alarm bells than we were comfortable with. Or worst, leave us vulnerable to being fed malicious data via proxy should they discover our true intentions. This was a risk we weren't willing to tolerate.

"Being a shinobi requires patience and foresight, especially when engaging in activities as delicate as espionage and counter-intelligence." Paragraph one, page three of the "Introduction to Information Warfare", volume thirteen, by Uchiha Koyoharu. Finally, the two girls approached us.

Is our patience finally paying off?

"Uhm," the civilian girl, Sakura, began, "You're Uchiha Sasuke, right?"

We turned to face her, one eyebrow raised curiously. Her face flushed red with a furious blush which turned angry as her supposed rival smacked her on the back of the head.

"Duh, Forehead-chan!" the Yamanaka girl all but shouted as she grabbed Sakura's collar. "How many other Uchihas do you know to attend the same classes as us!"

"Ino-pig! Mind your business!"

"Girls," we called, ignoring the sting that came with the callous reminder of our clan's demise. "Relax." The two immediately fell silent. Then their eyes widen like saucers as they apparently realised that we were actually talking to them.

"What do you want?" we asked, hoisting our bag on our left shoulder.

"Uhm." it was Ino's turn to start stammering. We waited patiently as she tried to articulate herself. "Are you going home?"

We stared at her for a few moments in silence, watching as her face blushed so hard she nearly sweated blood. "Yes?"

"Uhm." We glanced at Sakura who had spoken but seemed stuck on that particular syllable. The two girls glanced at each other, then seemingly coming to a truce they turned back to face us. "Excuse me!" the two said in unison, bowing before turning around and scampering off.

Guess not.

With a subconscious sigh, our gaze flickered towards the demon container in the rear, but he simply pointed at us from where he stood yelling some gibberish about a rivalry between us, and him becoming Hokage. His outburst lasted only a few moments before a group of girls rose to pummel him into silence. We cast one last glance at the assorted mortals in the room before leaving in disappointment.

***​

After a quick stop at the farmer's market, we returned to our clan's district carrying a bag of groceries. As per usual, a gloomy silence haunted the domicile and the sterile scent of soap and cleaning solution hung heavily in the air. We had long grown to appreciate the solemn ambience; in a way, it reminded us of a more peaceful time, a time when mortal emotions had no hold on us.

With a mental sigh, we pulled off our leather sandals, replacing them with a pair of indoor slippers as we entered the house. It was spotless of course with not a thing out of place, or a sign that anything had been tampered with. But snooping around without being detected was a generic skill amongst all competent shinobi. We entered the house with the assumption that it had either been investigated, or worse, bugged. The groceries were placed on the kitchen counter to be sorted later. We hung our school bag on the stand by the door to our room before entering to freshen up. After a shower and a change of clothes later we were back in the kitchen attending to the groceries.

It was peaceful and quiet. We liked it like that. Of course, we could hardly claim to be alone; an aura lingered just at the fringes of our perception in silent observation. We recognised her; it was ANBU number five again. She was here two times last week before disappearing for a while. Guess she's back again. It wasn't all bad, we supposed. At least our ANBU intelligencers were the quiet sort of neighbours, even if they didn't pay for spending the night on our property and were nosier than we would have liked.

A small flock of sparrows chirped noisily on the fence outside. From the garden came the dry sound of the bamboo rocker arm of the shishi-odoshi clacking against a rock. The trickling noise of water filling the decorative garden implement filled the silence following each clack. At that moment, two unknown auras appeared in our field of perception. One confronted our ANBU friend while the other made a beeline towards us.

Barely a moment had passed since we perceived the interlopers when a blur smashed through our window, its long fingers curling around our neck. In a puff of smoke, the attacker—an auburn-haired, amber-eyed, masked fellow in a short red kimono and black jacket—found himself holding onto the mopstick we substituted with. By then we had jumped out the damaged window, racing through the streets of the clan's district in the direction of the village. We skidded across the concrete floor on a layer of chakra, angling ourself so as to let a kunai from the side shoot past our head. With a kick, we righted our inclined body, but our assailant had already caught up, standing across from us.

Good. We were far enough now that it was less likely the fool damaged our home.

Our hands blurred through a series of hand signs, and with a guttural exhale we launched a fireball at the attacker. The inferno tore the street, shattering windows and toppling electrical poles. Almost instinctively we formed a tiger seal, flickering unto a rooftop. The unknown shinobi stood where we were just moments ago, stabbing his kunai through the head of our afterimage. We stared at him, our Sharingan flickering towards the shadow of a smile forming in his eyes. "Got you, you little bugger."

We jumped to the side a moment too late, eyes flickering towards the shinobi's main body on a nearby rooftop as the mud clone down on the street melted away. The fellow stood legs apart, his hair badly singed and fingers entwined in the technique-specific hand seal of the Yamanakas. A pulse of foreign chakra entered our body. In our mindscape, a figure appeared. He looked around for a moment before seemingly deciding he had better places to be as he turned tail, his ego fleeing back to his body.

"Sōzōamatsukami," we whispered before the fellow could break eye contact, a line of bloody tears running down our right cheek.

 

[Ravenaelwood]

004 - Patriarch
YOMI'S DOMAIN​

THE air was thick with a heavy mist, obscuring our view of the world around us. The sky above was a bleak shade of grey, the clouds so thick that they seemed to press down on us, suffocating and oppressive. The trees that surrounded us were bare and twisted, their branches reaching out like skeletal fingers. The ground beneath our feet was slick, and the sound of our footsteps on the wet crystalline floor echoed eerily in the stillness.

There was a deep sense of foreboding that hung over the scene as if the world itself was holding its breath in anticipation of some great tragedy. The silence was only broken by the occasional crackling of bare branches, adding to the gloomy atmosphere. In the desolate sky, a great fractal Mangekyou hung like an august moon, peering through the thick fog as it bathed the world in a reddish tinge. As we walked through the desolate landscape, we felt a sense of unease settle into our bones. It was as if the world around us was conspiring to make us feel small, a mere blip in the grand scheme of things. Insignificant.

The gloom of the scene was almost palpable, weighing heavily on our chakra. The world around us spun. We knew what was happening, but that knowledge did nothing to ease the unease that was gripping us. Under the celestial gaze of our Sharingan, our thoughts became jumbled and confused, and we couldn't seem to focus on anything. Our mind was racing, filled with images and scenarios that only increased our anxiety. It was like a never-ending cycle of fear and panic that we struggled to resist—

"Kai!" Yomi shattered like a broken mirror releasing us from her cruel grasp. Uncontrollable. Unfeeling. Unstoppable. There was no place for the living in the land of the dead, she reminded us. We looked inward, feeling for our chakra and wincing as we perceived the amount of damage we had wrought on our chakra network with just a single use of the technique.

Our breath came in ragged gasps, chest heaving with the effort of staying on our feet, movements slow and laboured. We caressed our face, wiping away the line of blood that dripped freely from our left eye, staining the ground beneath our feet. The light in the eye felt dimmer, weaker, somewhat. Truly, she was a cruel, selfish mistress. We sought so little, yet she took so much in return.

We could feel our strength waning, but it wasn't over yet. We delved into our mindscape, sensing for our assailant's partner. He was fleeing, apparently having realised his partner's failure. ANBU number five chased him for a while before suddenly stopping, a mass of corrosive chakra blocking her path. From the opposite direction came the chakra signature of a group of newcomers. ANBU, most probably, likely having noticed the inferno blazing through the outskirts of our clan's district. Our good eye panned to our accursed assailant, one that forced us to resort to taking such drastic measures. Our face a mask of pain, we hopped towards the man where he lay on the rooftop, falling to our knees by his side.

We tore off his mask before locking our good eye with his catatonic ones, Sharingan flaring with malice as we placed his broken mind under a Genjutsu. Without a will to stop us, we puppeteered his psyche, forcing some semblance of sentience unto him.

"Why do you want me dead?" we asked.

"Ugh…" his reforged mind moaned back in response. This would be harder than we projected, we suddenly realised. Yomi had claimed her dues and her greed seems to know no bounds; all that was left of our assailant was but a tattered soul in a husk of meat and bones.

"...Who sent you?" we tried again, moulding more chakra into the Genjutsu construct that puppeteered the fellow's psyche.

"...Dan—," the husk began before we lost our grip on the construct; the shinobi's face went slack, his tongue lopping out to reveal a strange seal in the shape of three solid lines and two broken ones extending from the back of the organ to the tip. The seal seized the corpse's entire chakra network, inadvertently dispelling the Genjutsu. We looked down at the body, feeling a cold rage simmering at the sight. The fellow's mind was already on the precepts of collapse; any more meddling of that scale would simply cause it to collapse completely. With a sigh we attempted to erase the fellow's memory of our fight, failing spectacularly at cleaning the sections that contained the echoes of Yomi; instead, we simply sealed the thrice sage-damned thing before hopping down from the rooftop to lean on a nearby wall, kunai in hand.

"Always on time, ANBU-san," we say with a lilt as we turned to face the new arrivals, ANBU number five had at some point joined them. She stood in the rear looking a bit worse for wear. "Always on time."

***​

The council hall was empty save one ANBU who watched us warily. Word must spread fast amongst their ranks given the amount of apprehension with which he beheld us. We sat on a waiting bench, by a thick double door to our left. The door had an intricate leaf pattern carved underneath a thin layer of lacquer. Despite its pristine appearance, it was probably as much of a relic as some of the council members themselves were. Lazily, we dragged our gaze to the open window, watching as the sun slowly climbed up the northern slope of the cloudy sky.

With a sigh, we closed our eyes, leaning back to feel the cool touch of the wood-panelled wall on our back. The hall was near completely silent. Silent enough that we could listen past the cool morning breeze. Past the soft chittering of squirrels in the distant trees. Past the soft thud of a nut falling from the canopy. There, hidden beneath all that racket was a soft, slow heartbeat. Rhythmic, gentle and distinct. A ninja. Another a few paces behind them. A few more in the distance; about five in total.

We opened our eyes at the sound of a door opening. Another ANBU walked out of the halls' inner chamber, looking at us. "Come," he said simply before turning around to return.

We rose to our feet and followed. As we reached the threshold of the inner hall the world suddenly fell silent. Sound-repelling seals for soundproofing, we observed. It was similar to the ones in our district's inner sanctums. Crossing the threshold, the voices came to us, loud and angry. Our eyes panned across the room, Sharingan taking and processing every detail before instantly fading out. It was a large, but sparsely furnished room; lanterns sat on a large and long table set before nine large chairs; Sarutobi sat on the largest, Danzo Shimura, Mitokado Homura, Utatane Koharu and Shibi Aburame on his right in that order, and Inoichi Yamanaka, Shikaku Nara, Choza Akimichi and Haishi Hyuga on his left, also in that order.

We abruptly realised the council had fallen silent as all nine council members sat staring at us incredulously.

"What?" we asked.

"You see what I mean!" Koharu shouted, pointing a boney finger at us. "He has no regard, no respect for the council or the Leaf! Accursed Uchiha spawn!"

We were confused. Seemingly noticing our confusion, Sarutobi sighed, rubbing his forehead.

"Do you not know it is a breach of social conduct to display a Kekkei Genkai in a gathering such as this one, Sasuke-kun?"

"No, Hokage-sama, I am just six so I hope I can be forgiven for not being aware of this fact as I have no one to properly instruct me on such matters. Also, I was very recently attacked by a Jōnin-ranked member of the Yamanaka clan and only barely survived; I hope you can forgive me for being cautious, Hokage-sama."

The hall fell silent again.

"...Are you certain of the veracity of these words, Sasuke-kun?"

"Of course, Hokage-sama," we said, turning to face Inoichi. "The fellow performed the technique-specific hand seals used for executing the Mind Transfer Jutsu. And as we all know only people belonging to the Yamanaka Clan are taught this technique. I wonder what my Uchiha clan has ever done to offend the Yamanakas so for them to so openly desire to assassinate its patriarch."

"Patriarch!?" Koharu squawked in disbelief. "The gall!"

"Am I not the oldest living male member of the Uchiha Clan? By duty, custom and tradition, I am the Uchiha Patriarch.

"Your vile brother lives, boy," the accursed hag sneered. "You are no patriarch."

We stared silently at the woman for a few moments before looking back to Inoichi. "Mind yourself, Koharu. I tolerate you only because of the seat you hold in this council. But please do not forget, my noble clan's matters are well beyond the onus of your post."

The woman snapped but we had already tuned her out, turning to stare silently at the Yamanaka patriarch. The man stared back, his gaze cold. "We have no standing conflict with the Uchihas," he said finally after Sarutobi succeeded in silencing the old hag. "Fuu's decision was entirely his own."

"Does the Yamanaka clan disown him then?" we ask.

"...Yes."

"Then you would have no problem if my Uchiha clan deals with what remains of him as we deem fit?"

"Fuu would remain in the custody of the ANBU division until further notice," Sarutobi interrupted with a tired sigh. "This matter would be investigated further. You may return to your domicile, Uchiha-san."

"By your will, Hokage-sama."

As we rose to our feet, our gaze panned across the assembled councilmen, pausing for a moment on Shimura's oddly withering gaze. "...I would advise this incident not to repeat itself," we said to no one in particular as we turned to leave. "I would hate to have to kill any more of Konoha's shinobi to make the world understand that the Uchiha clan would not be snuffed without dire repercussions."

And on that note, we departed the council presence.

 

[noternest]

Hot damn that's intense. I hope we get an interlude of their reaction to that.

 

[Dromeosaur]

That was perfect. I love the way you portray the scenes and emotions in them.

 

[Ravenaelwood]

Hot damn that's intense. I hope we get an interlude of their reaction to that.

Click to shrink...

I can see to that...

 

[Ravenaelwood]

That was perfect. I love the way you portray the scenes and emotions in them.

Click to shrink...

Thank you. Glad you liked it.

 

[ScissorSlipper]

Hmmm I hoped that an eldritch collective would respond differently than the many human iterations of Sasuke in fan fiction. He still responded with grief and terror to the betrayal, his... Lack of social understanding is also not a new trait for Sasukes, and he is.. somewhat more bold. Although I like the way his eldritch perspective was written, I think it could be used more. His background could be swapped with a slightly AU human Sasuke and his actions and character would still make sense.

And as a last thing, I know this is meant to be a serious fanfiction and I don't think thatll change, but I also think a humorous take on these Uchiha obstacles could've worked too.

 

[Ravenaelwood]

005 – Six Years Later
KONOHA​

"...From this day forward, you are no longer mere students of ninjutsu, but full-fledged shinobi," Iruka said from where he stood at the front of the class. "But amongst the ranks of the shinobi, you are mere novices," he continued. "The lowest of the low. Your greatest challenges all lie ahead. The next step is the assignment of official duties to you all on behalf of our village. We will begin by dividing you into three-man cells. Each would be monitored by a Jounin, a more senior ninja who would guide and coach you as you become familiar with your various assignments."

We leaned back into our seat observing as the classroom grew abuzz with feverish whispering.

Iruka cleared his throat and the class slowly grew silent. "I made the selections so that each cell's abilities would be roughly the same," he said, inciting another round of whispering. It took longer to subdue the class this time around, and when Iruka finally succeeded in doing so he pulled out a list from which he began listing the team compositions.

"...Next, cell number five. Haruno Sakura, Uzumaki Naruto," —the demon fox jumped from his seat hooting in celebration— "and Sasuke Uchiha." Our gaze flickered towards a now jubilant Sakura. She caught our stare, flushing to the neck as she hurriedly comported herself. Beside her, the Yamanaka princess sulked, a despairing expression on her face. It mirrored the one Naruto wore upon hearing our name listed for the cell. The boy, in his immaturity, held a grudge against us; probably as a result of how quick we always were to dismiss his rather outlandish ideas.

And as expected, the demon fox spent the next few minutes in protest at our placement in the same himself. Unbeknownst to him, we would rather have the strange creature within arm's length. For research purposes if nothing else. If half the rumours we've heard about the boy over the years were true it would be a very profitable endeavour indeed.

Our attention spanned back towards Iruka as resumed his instruction on our next course of action. "...introducing your ninjutsu instructors this afternoon," he said, "until then, you are dismissed."

***​

Are these his notes? Are they all handwritten?

Ah… Yes. All two thousand, five hundred and seven-two of them.

But… the penmanship … It looks typed out. Everything. Not a misshapen character anywhere. What do these even mean? I am having problems making sense of the cypher.

If you could do that at a glance I would be impressed. The intelligence division has been struggling to crack the code for nearly six years now but cannot boast of having made any significant progress. In fact, they suspect he modifies the cypher every few months just to keep things interesting. Inochi claims his analysis team has a running grudge against the boy; they want him in their ranks, but cannot, fearing the risks that such a decision would entail. Apparently, such conflicting opinions make them very uncomfortable.

…I see.

Kakashi, the decision to make you the boy's Jounin-sensei was unanimously made by the inner council. Not only as a tutor, no. But rather as a… supervisor. A handler.

A spy.

…Yes.

…They don't trust him.

…

I understand, Hokage-sama.

…Thank you. What's more, you will be overseeing Naruto as well. Best of luck.

…I will do what I can.

***​

"Our teacher is late!" Naruto proclaimed, poking his head out the window in search of our instructor. "All the other teams have already gone off with their Jounin-sensei. Even Iruka-sensei has gone!"

"Hey! What are you up to Naruto!" Sakura shouted as the boy started scribbling some nonsense on the board. We ignored them in favour of observing the aura we just perceived. It rapidly approached the classroom before stopping just outside the window. For a few curious minutes, the Jounin, our new sensei apparently, waited outside. Then as spontaneously as he arrived, he entered the classroom.

Our left brow rose as we turned to regard the man. He had a unique appearance, to say the least. Spiky silver hair oriented to his left. Dark grey eyes—one of which was concealed by the headband he wore crooked on his forehead— and a dark-blue cloth mask covering the lower half of his face. The mask overlapped seamlessly with the bodysuit he wore underneath his shinobi garb. He leaned against the windowsill, his posture lazy and relaxed.

"Yo!" the man said in greeting. What a strange fellow.

***​

"Now, I would like you all to tell me a little about yourselves," our Jounin-sensei said leaning against a metal railing.

"Like what?" Sakura asked.

"I don't know. The usual?"

"The usual?"

"Yes. Your favourite thing… What you hate the most… Dreams. Ambitions. Hobbies. Things like that. The usual."

"...Why don't you go first?" Sakura ventured.

"Yeah!" Exclaimed Naruto. "After all, we don't even know who you are!"

"Oh… me? My name is Hatake Kakashi. I am the kind of person who doesn't like talking about his likes or dislikes. My dreams for the future are none of your business… but anyways, I have a lot of hobbies."

"…"

"Now, it's your turn," Kakashi continued, gesturing towards Naruto.

"Uh? Me? Right! My name is Uzumaki Naruto! I like instant ramen! I like Ichiraku ramen even more! What I hate is the three-minute wait after I pour in the boiling water. I dream of one day becoming Hokage!"

A look towards the Jounin as he turned his attention towards us. "You?"

"My name is Uchiha Sasuke."

"..."

"...Is that all?" Kakashi asked, filling the ensuing silence.

"That's all that matters," we tell him. Quid pro quo. Not that we intended to give him any accurate information about ourself even if he had done so himself.

"O…K. And finally, the young lady?"

Sakura perked up at the request, eager to volunteer information. "I am Haruno Sakura. My favourite thing is… well, it's not a thing… It's a boy… His name is…" she glances at us, blushing. "My dream is…" she glances again at us, blushing further. Then her face clears up as she continued. "I hate Naruto!" she growls glaring at the boy who wilts underneath her gaze. Then the next moment, she was a blushing mess again. "My hobbies are—"

"Enough!" Kakashi interrupts her. I stared at the girl and her blush deepens even further. Pitiful thing. Her hormones were making a mess of her brain. What a dreadful feeling that must be.

"I believe we all understand one another," Kakashi said, wrangling the conversation back on track. "Formal training begins tomorrow. Our first project would be a survival exercise. Remember to come prepared."

"Survival exercise?" Naruto asked, perking up. "Our school days were filled with survival exercises. This would be easy!"

"Oh." Kakashi's gaze turned predatory. "But you'll have to survive against me. It won't be your typical practice exercise. In fact, the test we are about to perform has a seventy-two per cent chance of failure. Should you fail, you would have to hand in your headbands and return to the academy for further training."

Sakura and Naruto turned pale at those words. We watched Kakashi with one brow raised in amusement. 'Bluffing already, are we?'

"In any event," the man continued, ignorant of our thoughts, "we'll meet tomorrow morning on the practice field so I can evaluate each and every one of your skills and weaknesses. Bring all your ninja tools and weapons. And don't have breakfast beforehand… unless, of course, you would prefer throwing up."

The Jounin reached into his flak jacket and pulled out three scrolls before handing them out to us. "The details of your assignment are in these scrolls," he said. "Memorize it.

And don't be late."

 

[Ravenaelwood]

Uhm... We have a Patreon... It's a bit small. Still growing. Just six... now seven chapters ahead, but it's there. Anyone who is interested...
patreon.com/ravenaelwood

 

[LokKi]

Good start, will eagerly await for more!

 

[Ravenaelwood]

006 – The Bell Hunters {PT. I}
KONOHA​

The Next Day.

"YOU ARE LATE!" Naruto declared, pointing an accusing finger at the newcomer. Sakura stood off to the side pouting in disapproval. We stared at Kakashi as he sauntered into the clearing thirty minutes later than the agreed-upon time. Our Jounin-sensei had a penchant for arriving late it seems. Of course, the silver-haired shinobi had arrived a bit earlier than he let slip, about ten minutes ago, during which he simply hung around, observing us in silence. But that didn't change the fact that he had indeed arrived late.

"Good morning, class," the man said as he approached. He gestured us over, pulling out a scroll from his flak jacket before laying it down on one of three conveniently situated stumps in the clearing. His hands flashed through a series of hand seals and the storage scroll exploded in a puff of smoke to reveal an alarm clock and three bento boxes.

*ping*

"I have set this alarm to go off at noon," Kakashi began. "I have with me here two small bells. Your task is to steal these from me before the timer sounds. Anyone who fails doesn't get any lunch. Instead, you will be tied to this tree stump where you will watch as I eat your lunch in front of you."

Both Naruto and Sakura flanking us paled at the older shinobi's declaration. "So that's why you told us not to eat anything," Sakura said, in despairing realisation. "...But, I am on a diet. I haven't eaten anything since last night…"

Kakashi's eyes squinted as he smiled at her. "No problem. All you need is just one bell… apiece. But, since there aren't enough bells to go around one of you is definitely headed for the stump!"

Kakashi leaned back, straightening his pose as he dropped the intimidation act. It was effective of course. Both Naruto and Saukra positively quivered in their sandals despite how hard they tried to hide it. "You may use any method in your arsenal," Kakashi continued. "Come at me with the intention to kill or you will never stand a chance."

"I won't lose!" Naruto shouted, almost as if to reassure himself.

Our Jounin-sensei stared at the blonde for a moment before shaking his head as he reached into a pouch by his waist. His hand came out clutching a small orange book with the words "Make Out Paradise" written in a gaudy font on the cover.

"Go," Kakashi said, announcing the start of the exercise.

~KAKASHI~​

"The basis of all shinobi art is to become invisible. To lurk in the shadows and strike when the enemy least expects it," Kakashi said, flipping through the pages of the booklet in his hand. His gaze flickered up to regard Naruto and, surprisingly, Sasuke still standing in the field across from him. Both boys had made no attempt at concealing themselves. "I presume Iruka had taught you both at least this much, no?"

"Haha!" Naruto guffawed, knuckles stuck to his waist in what the boy must have assumed was a heroic stance. "Who cares about all that? It's time for the match to begin!" he declared.

"Match?"

"Yeah! A real match worthy of the greatest warriors! Our battle shall be LEGENDARY!"

Kakashi resisted the urge to facepalm. He turned his gaze towards the Uchiha scion. The boy stood stoically in the field, his eyes half-lidded and arms dangling loosely by his side. Relaxed. Sunlight glinted off the metal headband on his forehead. A stiff breeze blew past, ruffling his overgrown hair and loose kimono sleeves, his aura tranquil. "What about you, Sasuke," Kakashi called to the boy. "Are you also waiting to engage in some "legendary" battle against your Jounin-sensei?"

"Oh," the Uchiha replied, seemingly distracted, his half-lidded gaze flickering to meet Kakashi's. "No," he said. "Unfortunately, I am not interested in that."

"...Then why are you here?" Kakashi asked, confused.

"...But, I am not here?"

"What do you—" another stiff breeze blew through the clearing and Sasuke—or rather his clone—dispersed like a puff of smoke in the wind.

For a split second, Kakashi froze. '...He's gone', the Jounin realised abruptly. A subtle chill ran down his spine and his alertness cranked up to eleven. The boy left and Kakashi, his Jounin-sensei, failed to notice when. The copy of Make Out Paradise in his hands snapped shut with a clap. A few seconds later, Kakashi realised he had instinctively retrieved a kunai from his pouch. Embarrassed, he surreptitiously returned it.

"Stop ignoring me," Naruto said, launching a flying kick towards Kakashi's head. The Jounin leaned to the side letting the boy's attack sail past him. "Ah," Kakashi said rubbing his head, "sorry about that."

Naruto huffed in annoyance before he began to form a series of hand seals. "Kage Bunshin no Jutsu!" the boy shouted as he completed the technique. In a puff of white smoke, fourteen physical copies of Naruto manifested and began racing towards the Jounin. Kakashi, still subtly scanning the forest shrubbery for any sign of his missing pupil glanced at the approaching Narutos. "Let me teach you your first ninjutsu skill," he said, diverting a portion of his attention away from his search towards his other pupil. "Taijutsu; the art of the trained body!"

The next moment the barrage of orange-haired boys in jumpsuits reached him. Kakashi reached out with both hands, grasping the ankles of two Narutos, and plucking them from the air. The Jounin swung his arms to the side, using the clones to bludgeon two others out of existence. Leaning aside, he dodged the attacks of four other clones. His attention flickered towards the original Naruto attempting to sneakily flank him from the left. He punched out, dispelling a clone before letting another latch onto his left arm.

"Hehe," the clone chuckled as it held down Kakashi's arm. Another leapt, wrapping itself around his right leg. "Got you!" the first clone said as the original Naruto raced towards the Jounin from behind, arm pulled back to deliver a punch to the back of his skull. "This is payback for ignoring me!"

The arm struck, knocking out one of Naruto's clone and dispelling it. Kakashi who had substituted his way out of Naruto's binds snuck up into the forest canopy in search of the still missing Sasuke, leaving a confused, orange-haired genin behind in his wake.

 

[Ravenaelwood]

007 – The Bell Hunters {PT. II}
KONOHA​

It had been thirty minutes and Kakashi still hadn't found any trace of his missing student. It was as if the boy had disappeared into thin air. After a while, the Jounin stopped searching for him though. There was no need to he remembered. Sasuke still needed to retrieve one of the bells to pass the test, and given both bells were currently on his person the young Uchiha would eventually have to come out of hiding to steal one.

Kakashi glanced at the Naruto clone that made its way towards the trap he had set under a tree a short distance away. The Jounin could not be sure if it was intentional or not, but using the clone to retrieve the bell which was serving as bait was a stroke of genius as far as the airhead, Naruto, was concerned. As expected, the clone bumbled towards the bait with zero regard for the trap lying beneath it. Moments later the Genin clone found himself summarily caught and hoisted up by a foot into the air.

"Ack! What the heck?" Not-Naruto exclaimed, dangling from the booby trap. Seeing this, Kakashi revealed himself, sauntering towards the careless Genin. "To be caught in such an obvious trap, Naruto… Stupid."

"Hey!" the orange-haired boy exclaimed in protest as he struggled to reach for the bell just outside arm's length of his fingers. Kakashi shook his head as he bent over to retrieve the item. Purposefully, he left his back exposed in hopes of luring Sasuke out of hiding. His attention panned around in search of the stealthy genin as he rose to regard Naruto's clone once more and continue his lecture.

"Shinobi read the hidden meanings within the hid—" For the second time that day, Kakashi found himself frozen. Dangling in the air across from him was a clone of Naruto staring at him with a pair of Sharingan spinning in its eyes. Kakashi lept back a few dozen meters, ripping away the headband concealing his own Dojutsu. With a few sporadic bursts of chakra, the Jounin dispelled the Genjutsu the Genin was skilfully trying to worm into his psyche.

"Useful, isn't it," Not-Not-Naruto said as he fluidly slid out of the booby trap suspending him in the air, the sole of his feet soundlessly hitting the forest litter. "That Sharingan serves you well. I can see now why the Hokage remains adamant about not returning it to my care for proper disposal. It would be a great loss to the village if you ever lost it."

"...Sasuke."

The Genin didn't respond, simply reaching into the pouch by his thigh to retrieve a handful of shurikens, arm blurring as he lobbed them at Kakashi. The Jounin dodged the barrage before raising his forearms to block the flurry of kicks that were launched at him from mid-air. Kakashi leapt back another handful of steps as the Uchiha scion reached for the bells by his waist. Behind him, he heard a rustling in the leaves. Leaping up into the canopy Kakashi dodged the kunai trapped he inadvertently triggered during his retreat.

Predictably, another flurry of kunai shot out in the canopy above, their trajectories intersecting in a skilful attempt to cut him off. Kakashi subconsciously formed a tiger seal, launching himself out of the way at superhuman speed as chakra imbued his muscles. He hit the floor skidding, eyes flickering to meet Sasuke's. The boy's Sharingan remained active even as he lobbed another barrage of kunai in the Jounin's direction. Kakashi twisted out of the way, nearly missing the explosive tag wrapped neatly around one of the projectiles.

An explosion rocked the forest the next moment and Kakashi found himself tumbling through the air, only just barely avoiding the detonation. He hit a tree feet first, arms swinging out to lobbed cords of wire strings that immediately attached themselves to trees, creating a screen of booby traps between himself and the younger ninja. Hopping back a few dozen meters and leaving a minefield of traps in his wake, Kakashi glanced back at the aftermath of Sasuke's assault. A pillar of smog rose from the location where his explosive tag went off. Immediately, Kakashi scanned the forest for his students' locations; Naruto and Sakura were a distance away from their battleground, thankfully, with Sasuke again, lost to the void. The Jounin cast a glance at his waist, relief flooding his chest at the sight of the bells still attached to his person. It would have been a rather embarrassing ordeal to find them missing.

"...This was a terrible idea," Kakashi sighed, whispering to himself.

***​

Periodically cycling his chakra, Kakashi watched the young Uchiha standing across from him. A stiff wind blew by, tossing the boy's long silken hair around. "Tired?" Kakashi asked, one hand resting on his hips. The Jounin himself was starting to feel a bit fatigued as a result of the Genin's relentless assault. He was well aware of his status as a non-Uchiha and how that would translate in regards to how he would utilize his Sharingan. The strain from keeping it active for the past few hours was starting to get to him, but he had little choice in the matter. Either that or risk falling victim to the boy's own Sharingan. A dreadful thought indeed.

"Yes," the Genin replied. "You? Keeping your Sharingan active for so long must not be very chakra-efficient for you either, Sensei."

"Cheeky brat." Sasuke smiled in response but did not move from his spot. "Aren't you going to going to try to steal a bell from me again?" Kakashi asked. "Or is it that you have given up?"

"I might in a moment. If I deem it necessary."

Kakashi's right brow rose in curiosity. "Necessary? What are you waiting for?"

"Naruto."

"...Naruto?" Kakashi repeated, baffled. "Why are you waiting for him?"

"He hasn't found his bell yet."

The silver-haired Jounin froze, then sighed, cycling his chakra again to dispel any Genjutsu that might have been cast on him. At the same moment, Sasuke's Sharingan faded out and the bells that rested by Kakashi's hips disappeared from his perception.

"...You bypassed my Sharingan?" Kakashi asked.

"Yes."

"How?"

"I am better at using the Sharingan than you are, Sensei."

"...Since when?"

"A while ago. It was harder than I expected even taking into account your Sharingan. Troublesome thing that habit of yours is; always cycling your chakra. But after the Genjutsu took hold, the matter of distracting you, while I knocked the bells off for the others to gather, proved much easier."

"...But you have no bells of your own. You've failed the test. I hope you remember the consequences of failing the test."

"I do," Sasuke said, nodding. "I might have failed the test, but the overall objective was achieved regardless so it matters little. A moot point you might say."

"...You had breakfast before coming today, didn't you?" Kakashi said, squinting at the Genin suspiciously. "Even though I warned you not to."

"...Yes?"

"And of course, you aren't worried about being sent back to the academy … You were never worried about being sent back to the Academy."

"..."

"Well then," Kakashi sighed as he trudged away in the direction of Naruto and Sakura's auras, "let's go."

"...This was a terrible idea," the Jounin sighed to himself again. "A terrible idea I tell you."

 

[Dromeosaur]

That was weird. I liked it! That said, you do have a threadmark missing on part 2.

 

[LokKi]

Eldritch Sasuke is very good at mind tricks. Can't wait for some existencial horror genjutsu!

 

[Ravenaelwood]

008 – Family Secrets
KONOHA​

It's been several months—nearly half a year—since our first exercise with Kakashi. Apparently, our performance was so far from the Jounin-sensei's expectation that the man was conflicted as to whether or not to continue as our instructor. Thankfully, the Hokage was able to talk some sense into him and prevent him from doing something foolish.

Contrary to our earlier expectations, we would very much prefer the shinobi remained within arm's length of us for the foreseeable future. A Sharingan capable of resisting the influence of our own for as long as his did, despite not being in the possession of its original owner, could not be just any ordinary Dojutsu. Keeping an eye on it could prove to be a rather prudent decision in future.

During the weeks following the exercise, we were issued our first missions. D-rank, of course; all of which would have proven absolutely useless had we not required a plausible excuse to interact with Konoha's civilian social infrastructure, as well as, the more valuable members of its mundane populace. Even with Kakashi's strict supervision, and the oversight of our, secretive but perpetually present ANBU watchmen, profiteering from this windfall didn't prove to be much of a hassle.

Over the years we had perfected our mastery of subtle Genjutsu, a technique that had long proven itself indispensable in our arsenal for soliciting confidential information discreetly. It was, to an extent, effective even against Jonin as our experiments with Kakashi during the bell test had proven. Though, in hindsight, our decision to so blatantly experiment on the shinobi was a poorly thought-out one. We could see the phantom of an invisible hand guiding us away from more lucrative targets, evidently in response to our strategic blunder.

It was fine though. The losses weren't that important in the grand scheme of things. These days, very few things truly were. We wiped the last smudges of dirt from the kitchen cabinet before putting aside the cleaning supplies we had been using. We washed our hands before drying them with a thick towel as we leaned against the exit in scrutiny of our work. That was the last of our chores for the day.

Content with the spotless nature of our domicile, we made our way for the bathroom, only exiting the cubicle nine minutes and thirty-four seconds later. Changing into a fresh set of clothes took exactly five minutes while combing out the knots in hair took another seven. For us grooming was a slow, methodical process. A ritual.

Unlike most, we were not just representing ourselves; we were the face of the Uchiha clan, hence, it would be dishonourable of us to let our appearance be anything but impeccable.

Exiting our domicile, we stopped by the Naka Shrine to pay our respects. Inside was a Mitamaya bearing a stone tablet engraved with the names of every single one of our lost clansmen. It's been a year since we last performed these rites. From the sleeve of our kimono, we retrieved a Fūinjutsu scroll. Tossing it into the air, we bit the tip of our left thumb before letting our hands flash through a series of hand signs. The falling scroll unfurled as it descended, revealing its blank inner surface over which we painted a few kanji characters with blood. Our chakra churned and the scroll exploded in a cloud of white smoke as the technique took hold, erecting a barrier within the shrine. Immediately, the ANBU at the fringes of our perception disappeared, the barrier isolating us from the outside world.

Thankful for the hard-won reprieve, we knelt before the stone tablet, a lit incense appearing in our right hand as we whispered an orison in honour of the fallen. The prayer lasted only a few minutes after which we rose and made our way towards the seventh tatami mat in the room. We carefully folded it aside and underneath was a perfectly mundane-looking stone tile. We knew better than to be deceived by appearances though. Our hands formed the snake seal, Sharingan whirring into place as we performed the Naka Shrine Pass Technique.

We felt a steady drain on our chakra as Fūinjutsu seals formed on the floor. The floor rumbled as the stone tile rose, revealing itself to in fact be a stone slab about two meters thick. The slab levitated into the air and beneath was a flight of stairs leading beneath the shrine's very foundation. We descended into the darkness, moulding our chakra before attributing elemental fire to its nature. We raised a hand, a small flame appearing in our palm before splitting and shooting towards a pair of torches at the end of the room.

The secret chamber was a small cubicle with a pair of our clan's signature uchiwa[A.N.: fan] painted on the opposite wall. Beneath them was a blank stone tablet. Heeding our summons, our Mangekyō, for the first time in years revealed itself, and under its divine light, the stone tablet's message was illuminated.

"Seeking stability, one god was divided into yin and yang, these opposing two acting together obtain all things in creation…"

Yes, we hissed in the privacy of our mind.

We had waited many, many months. Patiently. In preparation to see what lay in this room. Thankfully, we were not disappointed. Not in the least.

 

[Ravenaelwood]

Check out this story from Sir Moneyballs the Third
Ghost - A Naruto Fanfiction
It's not as new as SFF but the book is pretty great. Do give it a read

 

[Kaliedo]

This is such a weird concept and I love it.

 

[Ravenaelwood]

009 - Team Seven
KONOHA​

The stone stab descended behind us sealing the stairway to the hidden room. With a smile, we unfolded the tatami mat from earlier, returning it to its original location. We paid our respects one last time, bowing towards the Mitamaya. All things being equal, we would return in a year's time for the next rites.

Our hands flashed through a series of hand signs, dispelling the Fūinjutsu barrier we had erected, and at that moment, the outside world came rushing back into our perception. Our ANBU friend was still there, although he had company now. Two more ANBU had joined him in silent observation of the shrine. This little expedition of ours would have no doubt sent alarm bells ringing throughout Konoha's upper echelon, but it was definitely worth the risk.

We put the ANBU spies out of mind, relegating them to background noise, as we had long grown fond of. Our Chakra churned as we flickered away in the direction of the Mission Assignment building; Kakashi and the rest of our team, no doubt on their way, or already, there as well for our scheduled meeting.

Halfway there though, we perceive a trio of chakra signatures that caught our interest.

"You three, halt!" we said to the unfamiliar shinobis. Our gaze flickered to their headbands. It was engraved with a symbol resembling a lidded hourglass; Sunagakure.

"Yes?" one of the ninjas, a redhead just slightly shorter than we were, grounded out. His voice sounded like gravel being ground together, and hanging across his back was a large clay gourd almost as tall as he was.

"State your business," we instructed the boy. "What is a group of Suna-nin doing in Konoha?"

Of course, we didn't really care what their business was in the village. Or rather, we did care, but only for the sake of being privy to the information itself. Any reason that would justify foreign shinobi being allowed into Konoha was one would prefer to be aware of.

"Weren't you informed?" Our gaze flickered to the girl who had just spoken. She was pretty enough, with teal eyes and sandy blonde hair, which was gathered into four consecutive pigtails. On her shoulder hung a light purple-coloured garment that extended halfway down her thighs; a scarlet sash wrapped around it at her waist.

"We are genin from the Village hidden in the Sand," she said, retrieving from his pouch what we immediately identified as travel papers. The other two also pulled out theirs, flashing it at us. "We are here for the Chūnin exams."

"A week early?" we countered, our eyes flickering from the documents to meet hers.

"Yeah," she said, twirling a lock of her hair with her left index finger. "We thought to go sightseeing for a bit before the exams start. You know, get to know the place … Hey! Maybe… you could show us around? You seem to be the reliable sort."

"Ok," we agreed easily, much to the girl's—Temari, as was on her papers—surprise. "Meet me at Yakiniku Q's BBQ saloon at five-thirty today. I should be free. I am Sasuke by the way. Sasuke Uchiha."

Without waiting for a response, we flickered away. A minute later we arrived at the Mission Assignment Building two minutes late. Naruto and Sakura were already waiting. Kakashi, predictably, was nowhere in sight.

"Ah!" Naruto said, pointing a finger at us, a victorious smirk on his face. "You are late!"

"Sorry," we replied, noncommittal. "I wandered a bit from the path of life."

"Ugh," Orange jumpsuit recoiled in horror and disgust. "They are multiplying!"

"Hi, Sakura," we greeted the girl.

"H-hi! G-good morning, Sasuke. How was your night?"

"Fine, thank you."

"..."

"...Uhm."

"Yes, Sakura?"

"I-I made you dumplings."

"Oh, thank you," we replied, receiving the bento box she extended towards us. We opened it, taking a sniff. It wasn't poisoned. Good.

"Hey! I want dumplings too!"

"Shut up, Naruto!"

"...Here have some."

"I don't want any of your stinky dumplings, loser!"

Sakura smacked the demon container on the back of the head. "I made those, fool!"

***​

Kakashi arrived about seven minutes later. "I have recommended all three of you for the Chūnin exams," the Jōnin told us after he succeeded in settling Naruto and Sakura, the two naturally vexed at his persistent tardiness. "You all have to fill out these applications. If any of you don't wish to compete, the exam is entirely voluntary. You need not turn in those application forms unless you want to. If you do, report to room 301 at the academy by four PM next week Tuesday. That's all. Enjoy your break."

We received one of the sheets of paper and looked it over before turning back to face our Jōnin-sensei. "But, Sensei," we said before the man could disappear again.

"Yes, Sasuke?"

"I want to take this exam," we said, "but you haven't taught me anything in particular since I joined the team. At least I am aware you have been helping Sakura with her Genjutsu and Ninjutsu, and Naruto with his Taijutsu and Chakra control via water-walking. But you haven't taught me anything I haven't already mastered on my own yet."

The Jōnin stilled. "...We'll sort that out at a later time, Sasuke. Just do your best!" came his vague reply, the Jōnin scampering off before we could say anything else. Coward.

 

[Kaliedo]

Out of curiosity, Is it just me or has Sasukes character had a sudden shift in personality with this chapter?

Oddly extroverted is as close as I can think of to describe it.

 

[Lagoon12002]

Out of curiosity, Is it just me or has Sasukes character had a sudden shift in personality with this chapter?

Oddly extroverted is as close as I can think of to describe it.

Click to shrink...

They might actually be in a good mood after checking out the Slab and uncovering its secrets. Knowledge seems to be one of the few things that this entity has in high regard.

 

[LokKi]

So, skipped the Wave country arc? Then the team 7 weren't at any of C rang missions? That's makes them liability at exam, imo.

 

[Ravenaelwood]

So, skipped the Wave country arc? Then the team 7 weren't at any of C rang missions? That's makes them liability at exam, imo.

Click to shrink...

Ripple effect. The likelihood of Naruto being in the Hokage's office at the same time Tazuna brought in his mission request after all the major changes that had happened over the years is infinitely close to zero. There would be consequences though. Zabuza and Haku are probably still on the loose. Tazuna's fate is unknown and his village... Let's just hope Gato tripped down a flight of stairs and broke his neck or something. They would be f*cked otherwise.
And yes, they would be a liability. That's the point. If they managed to carry their own weight things might just get too easy for MC. I don't want things to get easy for MC; the story won't be any fun that way.