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SASUKE: The Fanfiction

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Disclaimer, The blood clones don't have the sharingan; they possess all the DNA, chakra nature, and memories of the sacrifice used to make them. They are biologically their assigned gender. They can be likened to a vampire's thrall; meaning they have autonomy and are separate entities but are completely loyal to their creator.
 
041 - Among Us
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    • 041 - Among Us​



    LAND OF WAVES​


    In the heart of Wave's now bustling commercial district, amidst the labyrinthine streets lined with wooden facades, stood a discreet yet imposing building. Haruki, the lanky lackey of the greatest man alive, stood silently across this miracle before resolutely marching in. It had quickly become something of a ritual to observe a moment of respectful silence before entering; some claimed they did this to reorient their minds for the world within. Others did this simply out of reverence to its owner.

    For Haruki however, the office of the renowned business tycoon—and his direct superior—Jinrui Tanaka, was not a place one entered all willy-nilly. After all, one does not enter a dragon's lair, all willy-nilly.

    It was simply common sense not to.

    The building's elegant architecture—a testament to the craftsmanship of the era—exuded an air of sophistication. A pair of sliding doors opened to welcome him into a world where tradition melded seamlessly with commerce. The tatami mat flooring felt cool beneath his socked feet, and the soft light filtering through shoji screens cast a serene glow on the space within. Paintings depicting sweeping landscapes adorned the walls, while a delicate bonsai tree graced a corner, its branches meticulously pruned.

    Clerks and bookkeepers, dressed in attire that mirrored his master's sense of refinement, moved with grace as they attended to their tasks. The rhythmic sound of brushes meeting paper created a gentle backdrop, punctuated by the occasional rustling of sliding doors as clients entered and departed.

    Haruki walked into the designated social space, separated by a beautifully adorned shoji screen. Apparently, just behind the paper screen—soundproofed by Fūinjutsu seals—his master hosted a meeting. The lanky lackey sat patiently, waiting until a stately group exited with Master Jinrui in tow. Noble guests—local lords—dignified in their traditional attire, exchanged respectful bows with the Shinobi-cum-business man before taking their leave.

    "Come." Was all the boss said before disappearing back into the room?

    Haruki rose, exhaling as he followed, shutting the Shoji behind himself.

    At a low wooden table, Jinrui Tanaka sat in his impeccably crafted kimono, a glaring symbol of his status. A calligraphy scroll hung behind him, its brushstrokes embodying the essence of harmony and success. By his side, a gold-glided typewriter rested atop a ledger, a subtle allusion to the Shinobi's impossible financial success.

    Although a lacquered tea set occupied the centre of the low table—a clear invitation for the revered tea ceremony, a bridge between business and culture. A bridge that facilitated a delicate dance between tradition, commerce, and the cultivation of relationships that went beyond mere transactions—Haruki had no delusion of partaking in such a luxury at the moment.

    He was here to fulfil a much graver task.

    "Boss," he said, extending a scroll to his superior.

    Jinrui received the reports in his hand with a frown on his face.

    "...They turned us down?" he asked moments later as he rolled the scroll up, laying it gently on the table in front of him.

    "Yes, boss," Haruki replied carefully. "Our contact in the Land of Water said the Water Daimyō's stance on non-intervention in foreign politics remains unchanged."

    "Foreign politics!" The larger man scoffed. "We are asking for a partnership to stabilise the trade routes through his country and the fool spouts this bullshit? Forget him. Any update from the diplomatic team we sent to meet the new Mizukage? They ought to have finished grieving the fourth, no?"

    "Yes, boss. Kento and his team should have reached Kiri, yes. Although they haven't sent any message back so I can't say for certain."

    The boss chewed on the insides of his cheek as he digested the news.

    "...So, in summary, because of this fool's cowardice, we are still stuck with only the Suisen-Benisu-Frost chain, the Sekai-Sabaku sea routes, and a handful of lanes in the Nagi sea? It's been three weeks and we still haven't made any progress out of these regions. That's poor form."

    "...But boss," Haruki replied hesitantly, "we already have the majority of Gatō's assets, Wouldn't it be better if we consolidate our gains rather can continue expanding."

    Jinrui scoffed again in response. "Consolidate, he says. With the risk of important assets and routes falling into the grasp of our newfound competitors? We've already lost Yanwu and Sunafuki islands. Our access to the Glacier passage north and the dozens of lands beyond remains uncertain, nor we can't guarantee the security of our vessels should they attempt to venture into the Chiguri sea, and you are here suggesting we consolidate?"

    "...I spoke out of turn boss. Forgive me."

    Haruki winced as a tired sigh leaked from Jinrui's lips. "What about the agents from the Land of Fire? Have they started giving us any trouble yet?"

    "No, sir. They still seem to be taking a wait-and-watch approach, sir. Although, we had some troublemakers harassing our ships docked at the Land of Noodle. Apparently, some local lord had been intending to fill the gap Gatō left behind after his demise and wasn't happy to hear we beat him to it. We could attempt to bring him in as we did the one from Benisu?"

    "Yes, do that. Just make sure he doesn't cause any more trouble. We can't afford distractions. Especially not now; the Chunin exams would be commencing in a month and a half. We need to be prepared to move the moment an opportunity presents itself. Understood?"

    "Yes, boss!"

    ***​

    Shikamaru exhaled as he stood before a door bearing a restricted area sign.

    It was no big deal, he argued to himself, attempting to reconcile the fact he—a mere Genin—had, for the fifteenth time in the past seven days, been escorted by an entire squad of ANBU operatives to a restricted room in a secret underground facility that should not exist. The fact that he had been held in isolation—forced to undergo similar repetitive intrusive medical and psychological evaluations under constant surveillance—for the past three weeks, did not help ease his worries.

    The heavy steel door creaked as it swung open. On the other side, Shikamaru's gaze met his father's worried one.

    Opposite the Nara Patriarch were Inoichi and Princess Tsunade. In the centre of the room, Kakashi, his newfound comrade-in-circumstance, lay supine on a medical cot between the three. The masked shinobi donned a strange scientific ninja tool on his head. Shikamaru had long grown accustomed to seeing the device through which the Yamanaka clan head explored the psyche of his subjects. After all, since his arrival here, Shikamaru had repetitively found himself on the receiving end of the contraption.

    "He is here," announced one of the ANBU behind Shikamaru. The Genin looked around the room as Tsunade waved her hand, dismissing his escorts. Soft, diffused light emitted from a single fluorescent lamp, casting an eerie glow across the room and its matte stone floors. A small handful of medic-nin, dressed in white overalls lingered, crosslegged, in the shadows of the room, all donning contraptions similar to the ones worn by Kakashi and Inoichi. Thick black cords connected their devices to a mainframe that towered in one corner of the room; from the computer a single, slightly thicker cord extended out, connecting the Yamanaka Patriarch—and subsequently, Kakashi—to the network.

    "Come," the Senju princess said to Shikamaru, gesturing to another cot parallel to the one the masked, white-haired Jonin occupied. "Get in."

    Shikamaru looked to Shikaku. In response, the older Nara simply stared at him, his eyes squinted in silence.

    Assent.

    Shikamaru exhaled again as he made his way to the cot. He managed a stiff smile as Tsunade strapped one of the corded devices to his head. His heart sank slightly when she failed to reciprocate the expression, before turning to regard one of the screens on the table behind her.

    "...Still nothing," Tsunade said after a few minutes of silence. "The read-outs aren't displaying anything out of the norm. I can't find anything."

    Shikamaru tilted his head to look at his father. Grim. Shikaku's expression was grim.

    "Nothing at all?" the older Nara asked.

    "No," Tsunade replied. "It's as if it never existed. Shikamaru has no recollection of being terrified of the Uchiha boy; some envy existed before acceptance settled in, as well as self-doubt when comparing himself to Sasuke, but there is not a single length of memory suggesting he ever feared the boy."

    "But he did!" Shikaku argued, much to Shikamaru's resurfacing horror; an emotion which he promptly suppressed and pushed back into the crevices of his mind. "I showed you my memories, didn't I? He was terrified of the beast, so much so that for a while I was worried it would affect his prospects as a shinobi … That does not just disappear!"

    Tsunade sighed. "There is nothing there, Shikaku."

    The room lulled into a foreboding silence.

    "I still cannot find anything either," Inoichi said moments later, disengaging the scientific ninja tools connecting him to Kakashi. "No signs of tampering or whatnot … Although, I did notice an uptick in Kakashi's attachment to the Uchiha as well as a budding sense of disillusionment regarding the village's policies following his return from Wave. I am still not sure if I should take that as an indication of tampering or not."

    Another pulse of foreboding silence ensued. The arrayed medics in the background exchanged worried glances.

    "...So, theoretically, if what we are all most likely thinking is true, then Sasuke can seamlessly remove and modify memories… without leaving a trail? That's a level of Genjutsu proficiency that's simply unheard of."

    Everyone looked to Kakashi who had just spoken.

    "...Yes," Inoichi nodded stiffly, his face turning pale and expression distant. "Unheard of… but frankly, I am willing to consider anything as possible at this point."

    "There has to be limits to something like that!" Shikamaru interjected, feeling a dark churning in his guts. "Right?"

    "...There might be," Tsunade replied. "We still aren't certain if he could tamper with the memories of a Jonin-level actor. The ability could be more effective on weaker opponents and the inverse the higher up the power scale one goes. Kakashi's attachment and subsequent sense of disillusionment could simply be a result of lengthened exposure to certain psychological triggers completely unassociated with the Uchiha. We can't just make assumptions without any concrete proof."

    Shikaku scoffed in response. "In the same vein, we cannot be certain if Kakashi's mind wasn't simply tampered with. This could all be a result of that little bastard's second Mangekyo ability for all we know … If that's true, then anyone who has had prolonged contact with the Uchiha stands the risk of being compromised…"

    "...Even the Second Hokage?" Inoichi asked, his left brow crooked.

    "Possibly."

    "...This does not leave this room," Tsunade ordered moments later, her stern gaze panning across everyone in attendance.

    "But—"

    "I know more about the Uchiha's Mangekyo than you do, Shikaku," the Senju Princess interrupted as she glared at the man. "Ignoring the implausibility of a Shinobi as competent as this using an ability as self-destructive as a Mangekyo just to simply make your son more comfortable around him, have you thought about the consequences of letting a rumour—confirmed or not—like this leak?"

    Shikaku winced, suitably chastised.

    Tsunade sighed, as she massaged her temple. "...I understand the reason for your antagonism, Shikaku, but that does not mean I would just stand by and watch as you help tear the village apart from within. I might bear little affection for my status as a Kunoichi, but this village is still, first and foremost, my home."

    "...We cannot keep this to ourselves, Tsunade-hime," Inoichi said as he helped Kakashi to his feet. "To do so would harm the village even more."

    "Fine. Inform Lord Third. He alone and no other. Not my grand uncle, not the council, and especially not Danzo. I recommend that everyone who has had significant contact with the Uchiha should be monitored for signs of foul play, and those—"

    "Tsunade-hime!"

    Shikamaru's gaze swivelled to the entrance. There stood a lithe, dark-haired woman, leaning against the door, panting, her forehead beaded with sweat. Behind her stood a single ANBU operative.

    "What's the matter, Shizune?" Tsunade asked the newcomer.

    "Trouble, Tsunade-hime! Big Trouble!" the young woman replied, unable to articulate herself.

    "Compose yourself, Shizune!"

    The woman nodded, inhaling deeply before attempting to speak again. "...The Uchiha Clan… the massacre," she said. "Someone has been distributing scrolls claiming it was orchestrated by Lord Third and his Council."

    The room froze.

    Shikamaru paled.

    "What?" Inoichi and Shikaku exclaimed in unison.

    "When did this happen? Has the one responsible for this slander been apprehended?" Tsunade asked.

    The woman shook her head. "We can't. It's everywhere."

    "...What do you mean "everywhere"?"

    "The culprit gifted scrolls containing the supposed secrets anonymously to the Jōmae Village in the Land of Keys. The village, upon receiving the scrolls, proceeded to sell them to the Kumo, Iwa and Suna at the behest of the one who provided them.

    "Apparently, the Fourth Raikage reached out to Lord Third in order to negotiate a deal to keep the scrolls from spreading, but before an agreement could be made, both Suna and Iwa had distributed copies freely to as many people as they could reach. By the time our agents caught a whiff of what had transpired, the scrolls had spread as far as North as the Land of Iron, and west to the Land of Peas. It's everywhere Tsunade-hime."

    "...The scroll," Tsunade asked, "It's all just slander… right?"

    The messenger fell silent.

    "Shizune! Answer me!"

    "...The contents are still being reviewed by the Hyuga, Akimichi and Aburame clan heads, but what information they have managed to verify is all accurate … There is a very high likelihood that the contents of the scroll are entirely true… and the Hokage and his Council were indeed behind the Uchiha clan massacre."

    Although Tsunade's face had turned expressionless, Shikamaru could still acutely feel the anger and disappointment radiating off her. The two clan heads beside her wore disbelieving expressions on their faces. Kakashi sighed as he sat back into his cot, seemingly unwilling to involve himself in the matter.

    "...Belay my previous order," Tsunade said with clenched fists. "Not a word leaves this room. Not until I say so. Shizune—"

    "Yes, Tsunade-hime!"

    "Find Jiriaya and inform him that I wish to speak with him. Before that, get me a copy of that scroll. Now!"

    "Yes, Tsunade-hime!"



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    042 – When like minds meet
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    • 042 – When like minds meet
    LAND OF WAVES
    ​

    The night was draped in a curtain of stars, casting a luminescent glow upon the choppy waters that encircled the island nation. We stood at the forecastle of the vessel we rode peering ahead at the massive port nestled in between the beach and the rocky outcroppings that reached out into the sea.

    Last we were here, no such port existed.

    Yet now, even in the dead of night, ships of various sizes, adorned with dim lanterns, navigated the bustling bay, their hulls—bearing goods from distant lands—sunken well into their various waterlines, as they sailed in and out of a port that easily rivalled any we had ever seen or read about.

    As our vessel drew closer to one of the massive wharves that protruded out of the main quayside. The sails on our vessel were unfurled and gradually lowered. The ship glided to a halt, her wooden hull gently kissing the wooden structure on her port side. A figure on the wharf raised his hand, signalling to the men on board. The crew scrambled to moor the craft. A gangplank was lowered and we took our time to descend from the deck.

    Our yet-to-be-named blood clone trailed behind us as we made our way off the wharf. We crossed beneath a set of red Torii gates before entering the port city proper. Beneath our feet, wooden planks transitioned to cobblestone. Eateries, teahouses and sake shops lined the thoroughfares, boasting ornate carvings and intricately painted façades.

    We inhaled the savoury aromas in the air intermingling with the fragrances of jasmine tea, alcohol, and sandalwood incense. Our eyes blinked open, flickering about the sprawling market. Merchants hollered, pedalling their wares; silk, fine china, cinnamon, myrrh, fox fur, minx fur, lemon, oranges and mint. The list went on and on and on; endless.

    We forked a coin out of a purse hidden in our sleeves, tossing it into the straw hat of a cripple playing a shamisen. Pausing in front of a calligraphy shop we perused a few hung-up scrolls. One work, in particular, caught our attention; The Tales of Nüwa, its creator named it. An old hunch-backed foreigner of possibly Eastern origin shuffled out of the shop, a wet brush held in one of his ink-stained hands.

    "How much?" we asked gesturing at the scroll.

    "How much you think?" he replied in broken common.

    We stared at the scroll in silence for a few moments before sighing. "Alas, I cannot afford to pay its full worth," we replied. We reached into our sleeves for our coin purse, tossing the entire thing at the artist. He caught it clumsily, eyes agog.

    "This one owes you a favour," we added, pocketing the scroll before turning to leave. We passed a crowd gathered around a shrine erected in a tiny pagoda. About seven minutes we wasted watching an old lady tend a zen garden. Another twenty lost observing a theatrical performance on a noh stage.

    In the dead of night, Waves took on an ethereal glow we didn't imagine possible. Lanterns illuminated streets populated by white-faced geishas in resplendent kimonos. Beautiful.

    We looked up.

    The crowning jewel of the city we had been ignoring since our arrival now stood before us.

    A great two-hundred-meter-tall bronze statue crafted in our likeness.

    Or rather, the likeness of an extension of us.

    Jinrui.

    ***​

    "We like what we've done with the place," we tell Jinrui.

    The blood clone had brought us into a dimly lit room. The air inside was thick with the scent of incense, sake and tea; evidently, the meeting room was well-used. The shoji screen door behind us slid close soundlessly.

    We glanced at the blood clone inscribing additional privacy seals behind us before taking a seat.

    "Tea?" the clone asked it settled in a cushion across from us.

    "No," we replied. "Our plans need to be fast-tracked. The currents are shifting; we must seize the moment."

    "We noticed," the clone replied. "We have made preparations. We heard we lost an arm; has it been resolved?"

    We glanced at the crude wooden prosthetic we attached to our stump. It was disguised with a henge and puppeteered with chakra strings. "No," we replied, dispelling the henge and detaching the arm.

    "We assume it is not combat-rated?"

    "It is not. We assume an alternative is available.

    "Yes." The blood clone reached for a storage scroll on a shelf behind it, producing a much more aesthetic-looking, bone-white prosthetic arm. "The frame is made using spring wood from a thousand-year-old spirit tree and the chakra conduits are made from a special chakra metal alloy from the Land of Snow. The armour on its surface is crafted from bones harvested from one Kaguya clan that once bordered Kirigakure. The arm can be outfitted with poison, projectiles, as well as scroll cartridges to use techniques and seals on the fly. It also has a retractable blade made from a modified version of the alloy used for the conduits."

    A sliver of the clone's chakra leaked into the construct and soundlessly, a matte grey blade slid out.

    "Seems useful," we said as we received the arm before looking it over. "Very useful."

    "It ought to be; it did set us back thirty-nine million ryō after all."

    We nodded in understanding, turning the arm around for a moment before promptly attaching it to our body.

    "We would be sending a small delegate to Nadeshiko to expand our holdings on the island."

    "Reason?" the clone asked.

    "Logistics," we replied. "Our influence in the region must grow pronounced enough to ensure our kill chain remains unbroken."

    The clone nodded. "Understood. Any other information we should know?"

    "Tobirama was revived. And is now functionally immortal. Konoha possesses a Jutsu that allows them to revive dead sages. Worry not. We have already created and sent a clone ahead to Kirigakure to negotiate a deal that might help level out the playing field. It is not all bad news; we managed to steal one of the Hokage's keystone jutsus."

    We grazed our finger on the table, marking it with a modified copy of Tobirama's technique formula. "It is a teleportation technique. We confirmed with the archives. Apparently, the jutsu is called the Flying Thunder God Technique and was used extensively by the Second and Fourth Hokages."

    "We have heard of it," the clone replied. "Useful."

    "Regarding the negotiations with Kiri," the clone continued, "is there anything we can do to help?"

    "Yes. We would need funding."

    "How much?"

    "Enough to bribe a Kage."
     
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    • 043 - A Favour Between Friends
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    • 043 - A Favour Between Friends

    KONOHA​

    We blinked as we looked around at the forest around us. The area was overgrown due to a glaring lack of human traffic and as noisy as forests tended to be when they had been left alone long enough. Beneath our feet was a technique formula a few decades old; the rock bearing the seal had long been covered by a springy layer of moss at least two inches thick, yet the seal itself showed no noticeable degradation whatsoever.

    We rose and immediately oriented ourself north before stealthily blitzing towards the perimeter of what we assumed to be a training ground. In one bound we scaled the ten-meter tall steel fence that surrounded Training Ground Forty-Four before navigating towards Kabuto's domicile. A potent henge disguised us as one of the ANBU operatives we were more familiar with; ANBU number five. Our hair shortened slightly in length and lightened in colour until it assumed the appearance of Yūgao's distinct purple hair. Our eyes lightened from their onyx black to a warmer brown and our light pink lips darkened into a deeper shade of red as if smeared with lipstick. Our good hand formed a tiger seal as we moulded chakra over our disguise until it hardened into a solid replica of the female ANBU's porcelain mask; cat-like with three red stripes — one vertical stripe on the forehead and two horizontal stripes, one on each cheek. Our kimono was gone; in its place, we donned the standard ANBU uniform, with its black and grey flak jacket and metal arm guards.

    A discarded tree branch we found in a drain before sticking it to our back with chakra. The piece of driftwood was coated to resemble the Kunoichi's katana down to the number of weaves on the weapon's pommel and the grey scuff mark on the side of the sheath.

    Disguise completed, we traversed the rooftops of a crowded neighbourhood before dropping down onto the balcony of one of the apartments.

    "Kabuto," we called to the presence inside waiting in ambush. "I am coming in."

    "Yūgao-san?" the spy's shadow clone asked in genuine surprise. "What brings you here?"

    We let our Sharingan surface.

    "....Sasuke?" the clone asked.

    "Snake's testicles," we replied, speaking the code words as we tossed the clone a scroll. "I need you to pass that along to Orochimaru. It is tagged with a space-time ninjutsu that would allow me to teleport to his side once he receives it. Can you get it to him in time?"

    "...Yes," the clone replied. It paused for a moment before performing the seals of a summoning jutsu. There was a puff of white smoke and when the obfuscation cleared we saw a small snake curled up on the floor between us.

    "Give this to Orochimaru for me, would you? Also, inform him to expect Sasuke's arrival."

    There was a hiss and another puff of smoke as the serpent departed.

    "Has he gotten it?"

    Kabuto shrugged. "He should have."

    We nodded before using Flying Thunder God to return to the Land of Waves. We barely glanced at the yet unnamed blood clone who was assisting Jinrui in tagging all the vessels in the port with the modified technique formula before spiriting it away.

    The next moment we appeared in a damp, shadowy forest. The building to our periphery immediately caught our attention. It was built below a tree and had two markings on it reminiscent of a snake as well as what appears to be a snake's skull on the topmost part.

    "Where is this?" we asked, our gaze swivelling to meet the sannin's.

    "Otogakure's current headquarters," Orochimaru replied, his voice sultry and left brow quirked in surprise. "...You've been busy."

    Our gaze panned across the features of the four shinobi standing behind him before immediately dismissing them as any serious threat. Our lips curled into a smile as our attention refocused on Orochimaru.

    "I have a gift for you," we said.

    "Oh," the sannin replied, his golden eyes flashing in intrigue. "You don't say. Come in then."

    ***​
    Tayuya was not sure what was going on.

    The air pulsed with a sense of foreboding. Pale light cast eerie shadows on the walls. Orochimaru's gaze glinted with an unsettling mix of fascination and detachment as he leaned over a stainless steel table. A living, breathing cadaver lay on its surface, tubes and wires snaking from its body to various machines. With gloved hands, the snake-sannin carefully adjusted the position of a delicate-looking apparatus in the cadaver's open guts. He glanced at a complex diagram scrawled on a nearby parchment, then back to the subject.

    "Brilliant work, Sasuke-kun," he whispered much to Tayuya's surprise, his voice, smooth and chilling, cutting through the tension of the room like a knife through silk. "Brilliant work."

    Behind him, the Uchiha boy sat on a stool and watched, his expression bland; seemingly unmoved by the compliment. By his side stood a masked, dark-haired Kunoichi. Her facade was watertight, making it impossible for Tayuya to deduce her origin or ethnicity. The fact that she was dressed in a plain grey kimono of a similar make to the Uchiha's did not help much in that regard.

    Tayuya's attention returned to the Uchiha. She had heard much about him but unsurprisingly gave the matter little thought. It had once been easier to just assume the boy was trash much like the rest of the "prodigies" she had grown tired of hearing about. Now? Not so much. Not when she stood directly in his presence.

    Some tiny part of her still wanted to challenge the boy to a fight; to put him in his place and punch the smug entitlement out of his guts. The more sane parts of her suppressed those impulses entirely. She had seen the way the sannin looked at the boy. Like a delicious bowl of poisoned udon. Appealing, yes, but not exactly good for your health.

    Anyone who could cause the madman to reign in his worst impulses is not someone she was willing to cross.

    Tayuya's attention soon returned to Orochiamru's experiment. The sannin's fingers danced over the controls of an apparatus with a blend of medical precision and morbid excitement. Absentmindedly, he reached out for a boxy console covered with buttons and switches on an adjacent table. The cadaver twitched involuntarily as the machine whirred to life. A low hum filled the air and tubes began pulsing with a dim glow.

    "All vital signs seem stable despite the primary nervous system's completely inert state. Is it permanent or does the effect wear off?" Orochimaru asked, his voice tinted with wonder.

    "It's not permanent," came the Uchiha's reply from behind. "The jutsu's preserving effect wears off naturally after thirty-six hours. Aside from the lack of a soul, the body can be considered alive by almost any other metric. I examined the Living Corpse Reincarnation jutsu you attempted to use on me that time during the chunin exams and modified it a bit. The version I possess syncs perfectly with the Modified Blood Clone Jutsu. I am sure you would appreciate the ease of use and the lack of rejection a combination like this offers. With this, I have fulfilled my half of our bargain. I need you to commit your half."

    Wait. What?

    The sannin fell into silent contemplation. "...Thank you," he said.

    ...WHAT?!

    Tayuya's googled eyes panned from the sannin to the Uchiha in shock, then fear.

    He made the mad bastard thank him?

    Tayuya's gaze met that of the rest of sound four observing from the edge of the room. Subtlely all four of them edged away from the Uchiha.

    "Don't thank me," the Uchiha said. "I presume, from how much you've recovered after our last altercation you have a jutsu that grants you enhanced regeneration? I want it; it would take far too long to regenerate my missing arm using regular cellular mitosis, and despite the quality of this prosthetic I cannot gauge with enough certainty how well it would fare against a foe like Tobirama."

    "Regular human cells are quite limited in that regard," Orochimaru replied with an understanding nod. "The major drawback of regeneration techniques is that the body's cells are very limited to how many times they can divide themselves in one's lifetime, and by accelerating that division to recreate lost limbs and organs, one is basically shortening their lifespan. I assume prolonged usage is why you look so much older now. To circumvent that problem, I modified my body using Hashirama's cells, removing the limiters that are preventing infinite mitosis. Although that led to the small problem of cancerous tumours and unchecked plant growth due to wood release, I have found a way around it."

    "How long would the modifications take?"

    "Enough to regrow limbs overnight? About six months."

    "Too long. Could be useful in case I lose another appendage in the future, but is useless for my most pressing concerns. Either way, I need a sample of these Hashirama cells and your notes detailing the process of implanting them in the body. The prosthetic arm would have to suffice for now."
     
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    • 044 - Schooled
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    • 044 - Schooled​


    KONOHA​

    A Little While Ago…

    "I take you have no interest in this humble castle of mine," the Uchiha said gesturing towards the little hut behind him.

    Orochimaru smiled. "What makes you think that, Sasuke-kun?"

    "None have you made any attempts to neutralise my teammates, or at least hold them hostage, yet. You don't seem fools; had the hut been your target, I doubt you would have left them unmolested."

    "...You don't seem like you want to win either," the snake sannin replied. "Leaving weak links defenceless like that is an easy way to get eliminated you know."

    The boy shook his head. "Had you gone for them you would be dead already," he declared with all the intensity of one commenting about the weather.

    Mundane.

    Orochimaru's smile widened.

    "Beating about the bush like this gets tiring," the boy continued, brushing a strand of hair behind his right ear. "You want something, speak; if I deem it worth my time we might as well come to an agreement quickly. If not, I would rather dispose of you lot before you prove yourself a nuisance."

    The sannin tongue ran over his lips suggestively. He is so perfect, he thought to himself again.

    "Very well then, but courtesy demands a proper introduction, does it not?" Orochimaru replied reaching for the skin mask on his face. Slowly, he ripped the disguise off, his fingers digging furrows through the facade. Sasuke watched, his left brow quirked in an expression of blatant curiosity. The snake sannin tossed aside the disguise, letting it fall to the forest floor as he shook his equally lustrous mane loose.

    The Uchiha murmured something under his breath, recognition flickering in his gaze as he reached into the pouch by his waist. He pulled out a bingo book the next moment, flipping through it with practised ease.

    "Orochimaru," he drawled, expressionless. "Hmm… I wonder what an S-rank missing-nin from Konohagakure wants from little old me."

    The Sannin giggled with a hissing lilt.

    "You Sasuke," the sannin replied. "Or more accurately, your body. I want your body"

    The Uchiha frowned. "Do I have a bounty on my head?" he asked.

    "No, no, no. I need a vessel to replace my current one. I thought at first that I might need to wait a bit so you might ripen just a little bit more, but it turns out that's unnecessary. You are ripe enough as you are; a rather fortunate discovery if I might say so myself."

    In response, the Uchiha tilted his head slightly to the side, an imaginably vast, monstrous, shadow of a disdainful ego spilling out to infect his silhouette.

    Orochimaru blinked. The boy had nothing but a blank facade.

    "And for some reason, you thought yourself worthy of my vessel?" The Uchiha asked, his left brow rising in an expression of amused curiosity. "Orochimaru… I hope you are aware you are nowhere near my equal?"

    The sannin chuckled in response. "A bold statement from a nursling Uchiha."

    A pulse of silence.

    "...Oh?" Sasuke made a sound of surprise, realisation glinting in his onyx eyes. "...You've met the weasel. You've fought the weasel! Now I am curious; did you manage to fight him to a draw or did you run away from him with your scaly little tail curled up between your legs?... let me guess. The latter? Got your arse handed to you, didn't you? Nailed it."

    Orochimaru blinked.

    Sasuke reached out for a leafy branch, breaking it and twirling it between his fingers. "I can't believe the gall of that thing. Kills my clan down to the last man, then does a three-sixty and starts showing mercy to random miscreants? Where is the fairness in that? Where's the justice?" The Uchiha's irritated attention returned to regard the sannin. "Heh… as for you... Of course. It had to be the nursling. That's the only Uchiha you could ever handle, is that not? The weasel was out of the question that's why you came for me, the baby. And they say you are one of the three great sannin? I am rather disappointed. I am twelve, yet we are not even in the same league; before the Uchiha, you amount to nothing, yet you covet the body of its patriarch. You? A wretch like you? How disrespectful…

    "Let me guess, the weasel fought you using only genjutsu?... Oh, he struck you? With what? His fist? A slap? A kick to the face? A blade to the guts?... Ah, a blade it is then … but where I wonder? You know it's amusing the way the hair on your arms discharges static electricity every time I touch upon the truth; a rather sloppy tell for a shinobi of your calibre, don't you think?... You know what, forget all I had just said. I have a deal for you. Prove yourself capable of surviving the next three minutes and I will overlook your disrespect and even let you leave this forest alive. Deal?"

    Orochimaru chuckled in response. "You arrogant little—"

    The sannin leaned out of the way of a barrage of kunai that shot towards him. The projectiles followed a trajectory along a slant height towards his head, a bearing that made it harder to localise their perceptual coordinates quickly enough. A single kunai managed to stay in the sannin's cone of confusion long enough to graze his cheek, cutting a deep, bloody gash on the side of his face.

    He hissed, turning his baleful glare at the Uchiha.

    "Hidden Shadow Snake Hands!"

    A wall of constrictors shot out of his sleeves to wrap the boy in a death grip.

    Sasuke tilted his head, one brow still raised in surprise. 'You still haven't noticed it?—*tsk*—How disappointing."

    The sannin frowned. He touched his still bleeding cheek in confusion; the wound that ought to have healed immediately.

    "Kai!"

    The genjutsu broke, and Orochimaru found himself pointing an open palm at the genin, his summoned snakes nowhere in sight. His lackeys lay on the floor by his feet, their throats slit. Dead.

    "You didn't notice until the end?" the Uchiha asked, shaking his head in disappointment. "This is a waste of time. Just go," he said, raising to his feet to leave.

    Anger finally bubbled directly onto Orochimaru's countenance. "I will not take sass from you, welp."

    There was a blur and he appeared before the Uchiha. His hands wrapped around the boy's neck as he lifted him and slammed him violently into the trunk of the tree behind him.

    Orochimaru revealed his true form; a gigantic white snake composed of smaller white snakes spilt out of his maw. Enlarged as he was, he swallowed the young Uchiha with the intention of dragging him to a separate, mental plane to envelop his mind. But something was wrong.

    Something was very wrong.

    The sannin stared at the entity he invited into his mindscape in mounting horror. His eyes bled as foreign memories bled into his soul, forcing him to experience pure, unadulterated…

    E͈͙̻ͣ̂ͤp͍͚͎ͦ͑̚i̼͇̫͛̇̓p͍̬̩͐̓̏h̟̣͎͆͆̾ạ̟̱̏ͭ̚n̠̼̙̎̇͊y̱͇͙ͬ͂͒!

    Orochimaru witnessed the birth of existence through the lens of an entity completely removed from human understanding;

    The universe was much smaller then; all the matter in existence so much more concentrated. Denser and hotter.

    Warm.

    Comfy.

    Tasty.

    Back then, we were nothing more than a nascent star in its cradle. We fed. We grew. We grew. We grew. For aeons, we grew.

    Then we grew too much.

    Obese.

    Crushed by the gravity of our own weight, our core got hotter and hotter, desperately pushing outwards but to no avail. Too much mass. Too much pressure. Too much gravity. The balance impossible to uphold. It was killing us. It killed us. We died.

    We survived.

    Scarred and with a blackhole for a heart, but alive.

    We were too big to die, even as a cosmic parasite ate us from the inside out.

    For another aeon or so the balance existed. Then we came to an agreement with our heart demon.

    We merged. Our union was looked upon with disdain by reality. It rejected us. We rejected it. We died.

    We survived.

    We merged.

    A singularity.

    A naked singularity.

    We became—

    N̟͉̯ͧ͂̐o͈͚̞̓̔ͣs̳̤̪̈̋̆e̻̭̭̊̓́y̖̖̼͆̔̊...

    Ȑ̥̩ͬ͌ͅe̘̜͚͒̇̂ŵ͈̠̖͗̅i̹̖ͦ͌ͣͅn͙͖̜̓͌ͩd̯̲̣̅̿ͮ

    Ȁ̳̘̬̄ͨl̲̣̰ͬͩ̚t̻̞̪͂̓̈ë̜̳̫̇̈r͚̦͍ͪ̂̆

    Orochimaru blinked.

    "You didn't notice until the end?" the Uchiha asked, shaking his head in disappointment. "This is a waste of time. Just go," he said, raising to his feet to leave.

    Anger finally bubbled directly onto Orochimaru's countenance. "I will not take sass from you, welp."

    There was a blur and he appeared before the Uchiha. His hands wrapped around the boy's neck as he lifted him and slammed him violently into the trunk of the tree behind him. The boy's passive stare remained even as his body began to slough away in Orochimaru's grasp.

    "You never learn, do you?" Sasuke asked.

    Orochimaru blinked and found himself back where he started, his hand poised as if grasping someone by the neck … which in reality he had not done. The Uchiha remained seated where he was. Unmoved.

    Unimpressed.

    The sannin retrieved his arm.

    "Kai…"

    The third layer of the genjutsu broke. He blinked and looked around to see his lackeys still standing by his side staring blankly into the void as they repeatedly—systematically—stabbed every organ in the guts.

    Literal dead men walking.

    Orochimaru looked down at the kunai lodged in his chest, just a few inches from his heart. The pain echoed dully in his torso. Judging from the angle at which the blade stuck out from his body it was obvious the wound was self-inflicted.

    "Congratulations," the Uchiha said from his seat on the tree bough. "It's been three minutes; you get to live."

    "Three min—Ah… time dilation? You altered my perception of time? ... How many layers concurrently was that? Seven?"

    "Nine," The Uchiha replied. "You are still under the last two layers; friendly advice, you need to get that treated."

    Orochimaru looked down at the blade stuck in his chest. It wavered like a mirage before reappearing a few inches to the right, puncturing his lung.

    "You've proven yourself useful," the Uchiha continued. "I no longer have any interest in prematurely ending your existence. You can leave now if you want, I won't stop you. But, should you stay, I think I can find a way that we can both leave this place with a bit more than we arrived with."

    Orochimaru's attention was piqued.

    "...Go ahead. I am listening."
     
  • Threadmarks
    • 045 - Strategic Manoeuvering: War Prep
  • Threadmarks
    • 045 - Strategic Manoeuvering: War Prep {PT. I}​


    OTOGAKURE'S HEADQUARTERS
    ​

    "Are they reliable?" we asked the sannin, reviewing the list of names he handed over to us.

    Orochimaru nodded. "They are some of my best."

    "Can I see them then?"

    "Of course." The Sannin turned around, waving over the four ninjas lingering at the edge of the lab with his bloody, viscera-stained hand. The cell obediently approached.

    "This is Sound Four, originally Sound Five, the group currently serving as my elite bodyguard unit. Although all five are merely at the level of a Tokubetsu Jonin, working together they can threaten even a low-kage. If they all activate their curse marks and work together, a distracted or particularly careless Kage is also a viable target."

    "Six arms?" we asked gesturing with our chin at the fellow to the left.

    "Kidōmaru? I was experimenting with some biological modifications to see if having multiple limbs can allow the parallel use of multiple jutsus."

    "Did it work?"

    "No." Orochimaru shook his head in disappointment. "The human mind is incapable of controlling that many chakra processes and technique computations at once. And while the usefulness of the extra arms can be argued from a certain perspective, it wasn't enough to justify the associated drawbacks. A passable experiment. You seem unusually interested, Sasuke-kun. Do you want the Jutsu?"

    "Yes."

    "It will cost you though."

    "I have a few body modification techniques of equal value I am willing to exchange for it."

    "We have a deal then."

    "Good. The others?"

    "Jirōbō was, and still is, my most successful experiment on low-cost physical strength amplification. Tayuya is the unit's Genjutsu and Summoning expert, and the twins are arguably the most skilled in the cell. Well, while that title still belongs to Kimimaro, his illness has long rendered him less than reliable."

    "...How strong was this Kimimaro before his illness?"

    "About low-kage, why?"

    "If he is that useful, why don't you just kill him and bring him back using Edo Tensei? You claim to have some mastery of the technique, don't you?"

    The lab fell silent as the members of Sound Four exchanged horrified glances.

    "How could I not have thought of that?" Orochimaru muttered, his expression pensive. "Sasuke… I must say, you have a rather refreshing perspective."

    "What about the other two teams?" we asked, dismissing the empty praise.

    "Ah yes, Guren's and Arashi's cells. Tayuya, go find Guren and Arashi for me. Tell them to come with their full compliments."

    "Y-yes, Orochimaru-sama."

    …​


    We were perusing some of Orochimaru's notes when the redhead returned with eight shinobis in tow.

    To our surprise, we recognised one of them.

    "Mizuki?"

    The silver-haired man's eyes narrowed suspiciously as we observed him. "Sasuke? What are you doing here?"

    "I ought to be the one asking you that. Last I heard you had a seventy-thousand ryō bounty on your head; how are you still alive?" we asked, genuinely intrigued.

    Our former instructor's expression turned a tad uncomfortable. "Let's just say working for Lord Orochimaru comes with certain … benefits."

    "You seemed very much acquainted, Sasuke-kun?" Orochimaru asked looking between the two of us.

    "Mizuki taught at the academy for a while. Given the fact that he couldn't handle even Naruto at the time, I struggle to understand how he has survived this long with such a bounty on his head."

    "Ah," Orochimaru said, glancing at his pale-faced subordinate with fresh eyes before quickly dismissing him. "I see. Anyways, this is the other cell. Individually, they are a tad more competent than the two-fifths of Sound Four, but the synergy between the members of the unit leaves much to be desired. Still, they make up for the disparity through surplus numbers."

    Our gaze panned across the group in contemplation. "She must be Guren then?" we asked singling one out of the group. "The crystal user?"

    "Yes," Orochimaru confirmed.

    "Let me see those crystals of yours, Guren," we said, speaking directly to the kunoichi. One of her delicate eyebrows rose before the air surrounding us suddenly began to crystallise.

    "Impressive," we said, peeling off the ceiling behind her and dropping to the ground. Our sharingan surfaced as we walked past the young woman to the crystal pillar, running our palm down the structure's smooth, hard surface. "This nature transformation … I was doubtful at first, but this? The molecules are much too well-aligned for it to be Earth Release."

    "How do you think it was made?" the sannin asked. We turned around just in time to catch a strange glint flashing through his eyes. Our brows furrowed in a frown as we considered the question.

    "Despite the differences, its molecular structure looks a lot like Earth Release so it is safe to assume that Earth is a major constituent. To be able to rearrange the molecules in a manner that precise requires a medium through which the molecules can freely move around. Both Wind and Water are suitable candidates, although Wind might be far too energetic to work in practice, so Water it is. Once the molecules are all arranged in their proper positions what remains is to flash freeze the lattice; in this case, doing so would require a sudden infusion of energy into the fluid medium to excite it enough so it may cleanly escape the lattice structure, therefore hardening the entire broth into a crystal. That would be … Fire Release?"

    We pulled on our chakra, moulding earth and water into Mud Release before flashing it with fire. A shiny, yellowish mass formed in our palm.

    "Is that—"

    "No," we said interrupting the speaker. "The energy infused was not concentrated enough to allow the fluid medium to cleanly escape. It messed up the lattice on the way out, hence the mass is an amorphous solid, not a crystal." We looked up at the few confused stares in the crowd.

    "It's glass."

    We pulled again on our chakra, moulding earth and water into mud, but this time flashing it with the more potent Lightning Release. A mass of green formed on the glass in our palm.

    "Earth, Water and Lightning?" we asked, looking up to meet Guren's stupefied stare.

    "Heh! You actually did it?" Orochimaru chuckled. "How many nature transformations do you really know, you little smug bastard?"

    "A bunch," we replied vaguely.

    Content with the results we glanced down at the greenish crystal in our hand, reshuffling the molecular lattice a few times to cycle through several colours before settling on a pinkish tone similar to Guren's; the glass we turned clear a moment later. We toyed around with the clumps in our hand for a moment before flashing them with Lightning Release again. The lattice of the crystal broke down immediately due to how conductive it was, its extremely organized structure enabling vibrations to flow through it in the form of a wave.

    In comparison, the amorphous glass fared much, much better. It fared even better than standard Earth Release did.

    Nice.

    We dispelled the shadow clone trapped in Guren's crystal pillar, reviewing its' experience in the prison. With our analysis of the technique now complete, we freed ourself of the distraction as we turned to regard the rest of the cell. None of the other members had anything that particularly interested us so we quickly catalogued them before turning to face the Sannin.

    "I want to see the last cell."

    …​

    Team Arashi was a mild disappointment; they were easily the most disappointing of the three groups. They weren't useless, but they had no members particularly exotic like the rest did either. With a sigh, we focused our mind on a more troublesome issued

    "Even with aid from our friends in Sunagakure, we would need more bodies before we can attempt to take on Konoha," we told Orochimaru as we followed him down a flight of stairs.

    "More? " the sannin asked, incredulous.

    "Obviously. The fact that you can't summon the other two Hokages is a strong indication that Konoha is summoning their dead. Even on a small scale, a development like that would seriously threaten our chances of success.."

    The sannin stood in silent contemplation for a while. "If that is the case," he finally said, "then I suggest you find an old associate of mine. En Oyashiro. He is a discreet man in possession of a very special collection of… talents. And if the price he would be more than willing to join our merry band."

    "Can you reach him quickly enough?"

    "My summons can."

    We nodded. "Understood. So, where is this En Oyashiro fellow now?"

    The sannin smiled. It was a playful smile.

    We didn't like it.

    "Sasuke-kun," he tutted, making us contemplate reminding him of his fragile mortality again.

    "Have you ever heard of the Coliseum?"
     
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    • 046 - Strategic Manoeuvering: War Prep {PT. II}
  • Threadmarks
    • 046 - Strategic Manoeuvering: War Prep {PT. II}​

    THE COLISEUM​


    Constructed from marble and adorned with intricate carvings, the coliseum stood as a declaration of opulence and extravagance, its grand facade rising from the humble earth with a rather arrogant flair; a stark contrast against the natural beauty of the rest of the island's surroundings. Towering arches and imposing pillars supported the massive structure, casting shadows that seemed to stretch infinitely in the waning light.

    "Where is En Oyashiro?" we asked Orochimaru, peeling our eyes away from the sight.

    "Where I wonder," the sannin tutted in response before flashing us a placating smile and raising his hands in a calming gesture as he caught our dull stare. "Relax. Sheesh. I am not sure where he is at the moment, but this is about the only place that he'll show up. Although, he might not come if there's no shinobi he wants. Still, let's go in and see what we find."

    We stared at the sannin in silence for a moment longer before tearing our eyes away from him and flickering towards the building, our blood clone in tow.
    Inside the coliseum, a vast circular arena awaited, the marble floor carefully cleared of debris and prepared for the impending battle. The stands were a sight to behold, draped in rich fabrics and adorned with silken banners. Luxurious seating allowed the guests to recline comfortably in eager anticipation. Spotlights swivelled like sentries, painting phantom images on the masses as they rotated on their mounts. The atmosphere was electric, with hoots and rabid fangirling rippling through the crowd as a man—the host, we quickly realised—stepped forward.

    "Is everyone enjoying themselves so far?" he asked the guests with a fancy flourish, shouting into his mouthpiece. A crescendo rippled over the stands in response. "Ah, yes, of course you are! The last match was absolutely stupendous! Honours to the victor! Despair to the vanquished! Now, let the next match begin!"

    "YEAH!!!" came the response of a rabid audience.

    "As you know!" the host continued, "the rules are simple! Knockout! Winner takes all, including, of course, the loser!"

    We tilted our head, mildly intrigued.

    "The wealthy patrons here pit their shinobi against shinobi owned by others," Orochimaru supplied helpfully from the side. "The losing shinobi becomes theirs."

    Our gaze panned back to regard the host.

    "And now!" he declared. "Today's semi-final match!"

    We frowned as the crowd screamed.

    We disliked the noise.

    "Entering the blue ring, on behalf of President Mifune of the Silverfish Corporation, Watanabe, the Silver Surfer!" The host paused to let the hype build before gesturing wildly to the other entrance. "His opponent! Entering on behalf of Shin Oguri, The Severed… Sota!"

    The two opponents jumped into the arena. Watanabe wielded a writhing mass of silver that slithered on the floor between his legs. Opposite him stood Sota, a dark-skinned giant of a man. The two squared off, glaring at each other from across the stage.

    "All right!" the host said. "Let us begin! Ready? Fight!"

    "Orochimaru," we drawled, glancing at the sannin from the side of our eye, "you should know by now that I do not have time to waste on dalliances. Where is En Oyashiro?"

    The sannin smiled silently in response.

    Our gaze panned back to the stage where the giant stood choking his opponent into submission with one hand. The silver mass attempted a counterattack to no avail.

    "Tap out! Tap out! Watanabe tapped out! We have a winner!"

    Our gaze flickered from the scene as we scanned the stands. "What does he look like?" we asked.

    "Beige hair, a moustache, a goatee, and violet eyes," the sannin replied. "Has a tendency to wear baggy light brown tunics and large diamond-shaped sunglasses … You won't find him, Sasuke-kun. En Oyashiro is a hard man to reach; if you want to see him the best you can do is parade around something he wants."

    "For our next match, we have two special contenders—"

    We turned to face the sannin. "What's that supposed to mean?"

    Orochimaru chuckled, gesturing to the stage with his chin.

    "—In the blue ring, representing the ever-enigmatic En Oyashiro! Miura The Swift!"

    We frowned, intuition flaring. "It seems he took the bait," the sannin said with a smile.

    We didn't like that smile.

    "His opponent, representing the dreaded Lord Orochimaru! A rare specimen never before seen in these parts! Sasukeeeee… UCHIHA!"

    The crowd froze, falling silent for a moment, confused. Spotlights swivelled on their mounts to focus on us.

    The coliseum snapped.

    Ignoring the deafening noise, we turned to face sannin. "What did you just do?" we asked.

    "I—" he didn't complete the sentence. Orochimaru looked down in confusion at the blade sticking out of his left lung, inches from his heart; our blood clone stood behind him, the pair shrouded by the contrast inflicted by the spotlights above.

    Our gaze flickered down to the slave in the arena before panning across the mad audience bearing witness to this stain on our name. On the Uchiha name. We stood in silence, contemplating the idea of simply leaving.

    A few moments passed before we exhaled, the sound coming as a growl.

    "The next time you sully my image, doing something as foolish as pitting my noble self against mere slaves like this, I will end you."

    "T-try not to kill him," the sannin replied, coughing up blood with a mischievous smile on his lips. "Remember, we need every last warm body we can get our hands on for this plan of yours to work."

    We didn't reply, flickering into the arena below. Our perception scanned the coliseum to no avail. Too much clutter.

    There was no avoiding this.

    "FIGHT!"
     
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    • 047 - Strategic Manoeuvering: War Prep {PT. III}
  • Threadmarks
    • 047 - Strategic Manoeuvering: War Prep {PT. III}
    THE COLISEUM​


    "FIGHT!"

    Oyashiro peeked through a gap in the curtains at the dark-haired figure in the arena below. He had heard much about the child. Sasuke Uchiha. The Evil Flame … Second son of Fugaku Uchiha, the Evil Eye. Brother of the legendary kinslayer, Clan Killer

    Itachi … Sasuke of the Sharingan. The Child Kage. Second Coming of the Saviour. Lord Madara's Incarnate. The list of appellations went on and on.

    Endless. '

    Although it amused Oyashiro to no end, the boy had displayed such competence as to make some of his titles not appear too far-fetched. Fire Release. Water Release. Taijutsu. Fuinjutsu. Ninjutsu. Genjutsu. He is rumoured to have conquered them all, and to such a degree that a large part of Oyashiro wondered whether this level of mastery was simply a result of possessing the Sharingan. Still, another larger part of him expressed doubt at the thought of a thirteen-year-old, still wet behind the ears, possessing an estimated threat rating of, at least, S-Rank.

    The Merchant of Death chewed on the inside of his cheek as his gaze swivelled to regard the specimen's litmus paper for the day; a challenge to evaluate and put all those claims to the test. Miura was not the most powerful in his collection. No, that title belonged to another. Nor was he the toughest to put down; that title also belonged to another. The young man's talents laid elsewhere.

    Speed.

    A copious, disgustingly potent, amount of it. Sasuke was about to find out why the older boy was christened Miura the Swift.

    Impatient, the Uchiha struck first, apparently tired of waiting for his opponent to begin. To his credit, the boy was blisteringly fast. He crossed the entire length of the arena with what can only be described as a monstrous display of acceleration; much more than Oyashiro imagined himself capable of achieving. There was a blur barely perceivable by the human senses, a thunderclap of supersonically displaced air collapsing back into itself, and a bone-rattling, ear-splitting detonation as the Uchiha's fist expunged the existence of the concrete that made up the arena floor right where Miura nanoseconds prior.

    To Oyashiro's Ketsuryūgan reality appeared to, for a moment, stall. It behaved elastically, like a rubber band, gathering energy around the Uchiha who stood as the epicentre, before violently snapping back. The shockwave rippled across the coliseum with such force as to briefly lift some off their seats and send cracks spiderwebbing through every panel of ceramic in the vicinity.

    Oyashiro squinted through the billowing cloud of debris at Sasuke poised on one knee with a bone-white, armoured fist embedded in the powdered arena floor.

    Chakra Enhancement? Oyashiro asked himself as he stared at the shimmering layer of air coating the boy's body. The level of control required to infuse that much chakra in the body without ripping it to shreds was unimaginably precise but consistent with what the boy had been rumoured to possess.

    Either way, it wouldn't be enough to close the distance between himself and Miura. The older boy had reappeared at the other end of the arena behind the Uchiha. Oyashiro chuckled as he noticed the glint of horror that flashed through Miura's eyes. The Uchiha slowly rose to his feet and turned around to face the Swift Release user.

    "You are fast," Sasuke commented simply before tilting his head in an appraising manner. "Still very green though."

    As he said that, one of his hands forming a one-handed Ram seal, the floor of the arena shuddered before rippling like a giant water bag.

    "What's happ—"

    "Earth Style: Earthflow Mire Mirage."

    The Genjutsu hiding the terrain unfurled to reveal Miura standing knee-deep in a sandy mire. The older boy tried to flee but the chakra-infused dust created from the utter destruction of the arena's very foundations held on with a tyrannical grip, slowly, but surely, pulling him under.

    The Uchiha nonchalantly dusted his sleeves, before walking up to Miura, his stride leisurely.

    "You will forfeit this match," Oyashiro heard Sasuke say to Miura, "but before that tell me, how were you able to move that fast?"

    Miura glared at the slightly shorter boy, silent.

    The Uchiha smiled, pushing the point of a dull kunai in between a jugular vein and a sheet muscle in Miura's neck, his left brow raised in a silent threat. Miura's frantic gaze flickered to the event host but the man stood frozen, his eyes shuddering as he watched the scene in silence.

    Miura's gaze swivelled back to meet the Uchiha's placid one. "...I-I have a Kekkei Genkai."

    Sasuke nodded in response as he retrieved his kunai. "Forfeit the match," he ordered as he turned to leave the arena.

    "Don't forget to tell your master I will be expecting him, Miura."

    Oyashiro blinked.

    Well, that was anticlimactic.

    ***​

    "Oh, hello!"

    We ignored the arms dealer our gaze panning around the room he selected for the meeting. Judging from the number of chakra signatures lying in wait in the walls, it appears our friend here was a rather cautious fellow.

    Our attention returned to the man. "I am En Oyashiro," he said, extending a handshake. "Nice to meet you."

    We glanced down at the extended hand, Tobirama's insidious jutsu surging to the forefront of our memory. Of course, the Hokage's technique proved no issue to resolve in the end but we could not imagine ourself being lucky forever.

    Best not to take unnecessary risks.

    We walked past the man to inspect a painting hanging on the wall behind him. Oyashiro glanced down at his hand, his expression spaced out, before extending the ignored appendage to the Sannin.

    "It's been a long time, Mr. Orochimaru."

    The sannin wisely ignored the handshake as well. "It has," Orochimaru replied. "As you can probably already tell, I am not here for leisure."

    "Ah… what do you need?"

    "Mercenaries. Potent ones."

    "...When and how many?"

    "As many as you can discreetly provide within the week."

    "Such a short notice," the arms dealer mused. "Anything I should be worried about?"

    Orochimaru smiled in response. "None whatsoever."

    The two fell silent. We turned around to regard the arms dealer. "Are going to have a problem?" we asked.

    The blood clone standing by the door shifted subtlely in a warning.

    The silence dragged on for another two seconds before Oyashiro burst out laughing. "Of course not!" he declared as he made a waving gesture as if attempting to physically dispel the notion.

    We stared at him for another few moments before turning back to examine the paintings on the wall.

    "So?" Orochimaru asked.

    "Well, I have about thirty Jonin-ranked shinobi on standby."

    "We'll take those. Anything else?"

    "If you are willing to transfer Miura's ownership back to me I can consider leasing three more potent Kekkei Genkai wielders in exchange?"

    "Deal—"

    "That's not enough," we interrupted.

    "...That's my either stock," Oyashiro replied.

    "We are willing to pay for referrals," we tell the man. Oyashiro's expression turned contemplative.

    "On such short notice, it would be hard to reach most of my more reliable contacts," he said. "Although, I do have someone in mind that should be available."

    "Who?"

    "Kazuma, aka Furido. Former member of the Twelve Shinobi Guardians. He runs a solid racket and his four-man crew is made up of high-quality combatants. The weakest of his men is estimated to straddle the border between Jonin and A-Rank. The rest are firmly A-Rank shinobi."

    "How soon can you reach him?" Orochimaru asked.

    "Last I heard he was somewhere in the Land of Steam, so let's say three days?"

    "Get it done. Two-thirds pay now, the rest when our mission is complete."

    "Deal!"

    ***​

    It was morning on the other side of the Chigiri sea. The weathered, Flying-Thunder-God-marked merchant sloop we appeared on wobbled in the choppy, crimson waves. We ignored the bewildered cries of the vessel's crew as we turned to examine the encroaching coastline ahead.

    Apparently, even a literal backwater like Kirigakure can appear beautiful in the red light of dawn.

    Uhn, who would have known?

    "This jutsu you stole," Orochimaru said behind us, "it is really convenient. Would you mind sharing it with me?"

    "If you have something of comparable worth I am willing to trade."

    We ignored the smiling sannin as we leapt off the boat and jogged the remaining distance over the water to the coast. Reaching it, a group of masked, shadowy figures emerged from the mist to bar our entry.

    ANBU.

    One fellow, clad in a grey cloak and a demon mask, stepped forward. "State your business.," he ordered, his voice was cold and devoid of emotion. "If you have the necessary documents to be in here present them now."

    We ignored the group, letting Orochimaru deal with them. The sannin, his demeanour as slick as ever, offered a sloppy smile. "I am sorry," he began, "we have no such papers."

    The group tensed as recognition rippled through their facades

    We kicked the sannin in the shin.

    He sighed, turning to glare at us. Spoilsport, he muttered under his breath before turning back to face the uneasy ANBU.

    "We are here to see Mei," he groused.

    "Tell her Orochimaru seeks an audience."
     
  • Threadmarks
    • 048 - Strategic Manoeuvering: Ensnaring the Mist
  • Threadmarks
    • 048 - Strategic Manoeuvering: Ensnaring the Mist​

    KIRIGAKURE​


    In a dimly lit chamber beneath the heart of the Hidden Mist Village, the air was thick with tension. The walls of the windowless room bore the signs of age, their stones marred by the passage of time and the vile secrets they held. Mei sat at the head of an ancient stone table. Her dark blue dress clung closely to her figure, and her crimson hair flowed like a river of smouldering flames down her back. To her right, Chojuro, her timid, yet loyal bodyguard, and the wielder of the legendary sword, Hiramekarei, watched the proceedings with a vigilant eye. To her left, Ao, his singular eye hidden behind an eyepatch, exuded an aura of suspicion as he stared unblinkingly at the Sannin and his associate. Seated hunchbacked beside her was Elder Genji, his gnarled hands gripping firmly on his equally gnarled staff.

    Mei frowned as Orochimaru, the enigmatic Sannin, lounged lazily in the chair opposite her. She found his pallid skin and serpent-like eyes queer and, quite frankly, disgusting. The sinister aura that clung to him radiated palpably across the room further adding to her displeasure. At his side, his associate—quite the disheartening discovery—sat with a comfortable ease that mirrored the sannin. The Uchiha stared past a curtain of inky black hair, his bewitching onyx gaze locked placidly with her own.

    Much to Mei's surprise and discomfort, his presence elicited a shadow of deference from the Snake Sannin.

    Behind the two, a woman dressed similarly to the Uchiha stood stoically, her arms hidden by her flowing kimono sleeves as it rested over her stomach. The strange woman hadn't made a sound since the trio was first spotted and apprehended.

    "Why are you here, Orochimaru?" Mei asked, folding her arms beneath her bosom as she leaned back into her seat.

    "Me?" the sannin asked rhetorically. "Oh, don't mind me. Sasuke-kun just dragged me along to make sure you treat his proposal with the appropriate gravitas required of you. My purpose here is entirely ornamental."

    Of course, Mei did not believe what the sannin said, the lie much too blatant to even be considered remotely believable. Still, she did not express her true thoughts on the matter, simply turning her gaze to face the Uchiha, curious as to what malicious scheme Orochimaru was up to this time.

    "What is it you want, Sasuke-kun?" she asked letting her face assume a convincing facsimile of a smile.

    The Uchiha blinked once, tilting his head innocently to the side in a manner that if she were a younger, more naive Mei a faint blush might have threatened to overwhelm her features.

    She was more mature now so only a dusting of pink crept over her features before promptly fading away.

    "Mizukage," the handsome boy began, "what if I told you I could elevate Kirikage's economy to the rival and surpass Konoha's in the next nine months?"

    The room became still as every sliver of attention in the room seemed to converge on the Uchiha. Only the woman behind the boy remained unfazed. Even the sannin appeared surprised by the statement, forcing Mei to reevaluate her preconception of him as she could not reliably confirm if the snake was acting or not despite knowing fully well that he was.

    In response to the Uchiha's bold claim, Ao scoffed just subtly enough for his reaction to not be considered a faux pas. Elder Genji on the other hand had little consideration for that, smacking the butt of his demon staff on the concrete floor in an obvious display of disapproval.

    "Restraint. L-learn restraint. Y-you reach too high, boy," the wizened elder said, his voice stuttering from old age. Mei placed a consoling hand on the elder's staff, her eyes never leaving the Uchiha's placid ones.

    "If you told me that, I would tell you you are delusional," Mei said to the boy. "Or a liar."

    Surprisingly, the Uchiha did nothing but nod in response. "Kage," he spoke, turning a side-eye to the woman standing behind him.

    "Yes, Uchiha-san," the obvious bodyguard nodded, pulling a scroll from her sleeve before walking forward to hand it over to Ao who in turn handed it over to her. Mei frowned as she unfurled the document.

    "That is proof of my ownership of an exclusive defence contract covering ninety per cent of all the northern and central shipping lanes, ports and naval facilities belonging to the Jinrui Shipping Company for the next twenty years. You can have it verified if you want at a later time, but for the sake of our continued dialogue let us all assume it is authentic."

    For a few moments, the room descended into another lull of sobriety.

    "...That's impossible!" Ao stated with irrefutable conviction. The eyepatch-wearing shinobi turned to face Mei as he spoke. "Mizukage-sama, I believe it is time these criminals leave. Or better, are detained for attempting to swindle us in this manner."
    Mei stared at the document in stunned confusion, her disbelieving eyes flickering between the Uchiha and the documents he offered to her.

    "I hear from Jinrui that Kiri has been having issues securing a tangible defence contract with his company, something about the Water Daimyō meddling in a bid to keep the rebellious clans placated as well as keep The Mist from amassing wealth and possibly growing independent of his court. The contract in your hands covers assets outside the Land of Water's borders, hence beyond the Water Daimyō's ability to influence letting you circumvent all that."

    "...How did you get your hands on this?" Mei asked. The scroll in her hands, if in the possession of a state-like entity had the ability to elevate such a country's economic prowess to terrifying heights. Invaluable, yes, but otherwise worthless in the hands of a single individual.

    How did he get it?

    "Jinrui owed my clan a favour," the Uchiha replied without elaborating further.

    Mei stared at the boy for a long moment, before finding her voice again.

    "What do you want, Uchiha-san?"

    The boy's lips curled into a gentle smile.

    "Accomplices, Mizukage-sama," he said, his gaze still locked with hers.

    "I want accomplices."
     
  • Threadmarks
    • 049 - Trust Issues
  • Threadmarks
    • 049 - Trust Issues​

    KONOHA​


    As Tsunade stepped on the threshold of the inner council hall the world suddenly fell silent, sound-repelling seals bleaching the air of all unwanted disturbances. Crossing the threshold, however, the voices came to her, loud and angry. She ignored them as she navigated her way to her seat across the room. The meeting room was almost the same as it was in her memories; mostly unchanged if one ignored the additional furniture. Lanterns sat on the new, large circular table set before twenty-two seats; Lord Third sat solemnly on the seat directly facing the door.

    The meeting was rather rowdy, though Tsunade found that she was not surprised. It was hard to be when she could clearly see the distrust shading the faces of half the clan heads present. Everyone of importance was in attendance. Shibi Aburame, Chōza Akimichi, Hiashi Hyuga, Shikaku Nara, Daiki Fuma, Jiro Hatake, Tsume Inuzuka, Amagi Izuno, Mitokado Homura, Utatane Koharu, Stone Lee, Asahi Onikuma, Biwako Sarutobi, Danzo Shimura, Inoichi Yamanaka, Yamato Izumo, and Ichiro Suzumeno. Even Yakumo Kurama—the very young heiress to her clan—and that former Suna Kunoichi—Hakuto, representing the Hōki Family—were both present.

    Both girls sat watching the meet in silence; the former appearing entirely disinterested in the argument that was going on with the latter's face set in an uneasy grimace.

    Tsunade said nothing as she made her way to the empty seat beside Lord Second.

    "You are late," her undead granduncle stated, his tone devoid of emotion.

    "This is a shitshow," Tsunade whispered in response.

    Tobirama grunted, his eyes narrowing as he looked around the table. "True."

    The atmosphere in the room was rowdy and palpably tense, as the clan heads all tried to voice their differing opinions. Steel gazes bore into Hiruzen and what was left of his council; faces etched into rictuses of anger and suspicion. Tension hung in the air like a storm cloud, heavy and oppressive. The accusations, backed by irrefutable evidence, loomed over them like an impending tempest, and Tsunade couldn't help but hold her breath as the village's future hung in the balance.

    "Perhaps," Choza suggested, his loud, but calm voice cutting across the racket, " we should postpone the exams."

    Hiashi nodded in agreement. "I agree. Postponing the Chunin exams until this matter is fully resolved might prove wise."

    "...To urge we postpone the exam, is the boy really that much of a threat?" Ichiro the Suzumeno patriarch asked.

    "He fought Lord Second to a standstill," came Inoichi's tired reply. "He is dangerous."

    "I know," Ichiro replied, "I know. But, perhaps we are overreacting. The boy can't possibly be that—"

    Tsunade winced as her granduncle's baleful gaze swivelled to reduce the man into a stuttering mess. His terrifying, chakra-infused aura descended on the entire meet silencing everyone in attendance.

    "That boy," Tobirama hissed, "effectively killed me three times. Three times I would have died had I been truly alive. All in a span of fifteen minutes. He was able to match my speed. Despite being down one arm, he was able to contend with me in Taijutsu. I fled that battle in the end, fearing he would terminate my existence permanently.

    "Aside from Hiruzen, how many of you could claim to the able to do the same?"

    The room remained silent. No one spoke, most still frozen by the Second Hokage's baleful aura.

    "To underestimate Sasuke Uchiha would be the most foolish decision we could make."

    His piece said, Tobirama withdrew his aura and shut his eyes in a vain attempt to fade into the background.

    "...How certain are we that Sasuke would attempt to attack the village during the exams?" Shibi asked. Tsunade felt a slight shiver run down her spine as she picked up the faint noise of the Aburame's bugs chittering in the gourd he wore by his waist after being rattled by Lord Second's display.

    "About thirty per cent," Shikaku replied. "An informant in the Coliseum sent a priority message back informing us of sighting the Uchiha at one of their events seemingly in the employ of Orochimaru. Afterwards, the pair had a private meeting with the enigmatic arms dealer, En Oyashiro. Hours later, ANBU sleeper agents in Kirigakure also spotted the pair at the village demanding to speak with the Fifth Mizukage; they left a few hours later. Unmolested and apparently in a jolly mood."

    "Isn't the Coliseum on the side of the Chigiri sea from the Land of Water?" Ichiro asked. "To be able to traverse between both locations within a few hours should be improbable, right?"

    The room buzzed with whispers of agreement from the other clan heads.

    Tsunade hesitated for a moment before deciding to interject. "...If Sasuke is indeed allied with Orochimaru then it isn't completely improbable. A reverse summoning could easily solve the issue of distance. Rather than that, I am more concerned that Sasuke is associated with the Snake Sannin at all. More concerning in fact is how quickly their unlikely alliance seemed to come to fruition. Has there been any recorded instance during which the two came in contact?"

    "None that we are aware of," Inoichi said, shooting a pointed glance at Lord Third.

    Sarutobi picking on the insinuation shook his head. "There has been none," the wizened old man said, his tone fatigued. "It is worrying that Sasuke is associated with Orochimaru in any way; that is a proposition that does not bode well for the future of the village. Both are powerful, possess immense potential, and bear a grudge against Konoha. For this reason, I have deemed it unwise to postpone the Chunin exams."

    The room fell into a contemplative hush as the gravity of the Third Hokage's words settled in.

    "...What?"

    Hiruzen turned to face Tsunade who had just spoken. "If we can predict with some accuracy that he and Orochimaru would stage an attack on the village during the Chunin exams, then isn't this an opportunity to deal with both before they have time to become a greater problem than they are now? He has proven to act rather impulsively when it comes to matters regarding avenging his clan. His altercation with his brother proves that much, meaning we have some guarantee of forcing a confrontation on our own terms. Sasuke is still just thirteen. How dangerous do you think he would be when he is just a bit older and mature? We must act now if we are to safeguard Konoha's future."

    "...Respectfully, I don't think you have the right to speak on this matter, Lord Third," Tsunade replied, ignoring the one-eyed glare her granduncle shot at her as a hum of agreement rippled through the meet. "You and your council made the very decisions that culminated in this mess. Might I add, apparently, Danzo—again—would walk away with a barely smack on the wrist it seems after masterminding this entire debacle. Please, why is he permitted to attend this meeting?"

    "I am here representing the Shimura Clan, just as you are for the Senju, Tsunade," came the creep's bland, unremorseful reply. His voice irked Tsunade in a manner that she could barely comprehend.

    But before she could launch a scathing reply, a soft, calm, slightly bored feminine voice spoke up, preempting her. "Ignoring the matter of this villainous Uchiha and his equally terrifying, new-found ally, a possible invasion from another village an entire sea away, or Danzo's unethical presence in this meeting," Yakumo, the young heiress from the Kurama clan interjected with a slow blink of her eyes, "I am more concerned as to whether or not any more clans are slated to be killed off anytime soon?"

    The meet grew deathly silent at that.

    For minutes now, it had been obvious to Tsunade that the clan heads were unsure how to broach this very topic without violently overturning the boat. Though, apparently, the young heiress had no problem doing just that. In fact, it seemed to Tsunade that was exactly what she wanted.

    The uneasy silence remained until the girl spoke again. "Lord Third, perhaps it's time for a change. You've served this village well for a long time and it is time for you to rest. Let the clans choose a new leader, one we can trust. One who can unite us and lead Konoha into a more stable future, rather than wallowing in a pit of distrust as we are doing now"

    Tsunade felt an uneasy premonition bud in her heart as the girl looked around at the other clan heads gathered. Something about the way the child stared at the Third Hokage made her very uncomfortable.
    Seemingly oblivious to this, Hiruzen instead nodded slowly, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. "I am willing to consider stepping down from my position if that would appease the clans. I fully acknowledge my faults and my involvement in the atrocities committed during my tenure and have no excuse.

    "But first, we need to decide what must be done about Sasuke Uchiha. That is of utmost priority."

    Tsunade ignored the wave of arguments that erupted afterwards. For some reason, she just couldn't shake off the uneasy feeling she felt in her heart as she stared at Yakumo staring silently at the Hokage, a shade of loathing darkening the girl's visage.

    Just what is going on?...
     
  • Threadmarks
    • 050 - Trouble rears its pretty, little head…
  • Threadmarks
    • 050 - Trouble rears its pretty, little head…
    KONOHA​


    "Are you certain you want to do this?"

    Our gaze panned to regard Orochimaru who had just spoken. It was dawn and the breaking sun cast an eerie, dappled light through the cloud-stricken sky. The horizon bled dim crimson and the heavens above looked to have been set aflame by an impish deity, lending an otherworldly aura to the scene. Once upon a time, we might have simply enjoyed the scenery in silence…

    Now, looking down upon the village that took one of the only things we truly cared about in this accursed world, our heart burned with hate and a vile desire to taint it all.

    We spoke not to the snake sannin, instead taking a few steps forward to peer down Minato's sculpted forehead at the Hokage Residence below. Along the surface of the stone monument we stood upon, our sharingan could pick up the most recent layers of paint splattered over it to hide the worst of Naruto's misadventures. A smile crept unbidden onto our face at the thought. The bloody fool.

    "Why do you ask?" we finally replied to the sannin's inquiry. "Growing cold feet?"

    "I should be the one asking you that," Orochimaru scoffed in response. "We've been waiting here pointlessly for thirty minutes already. If I didn't know better, I would have assumed you wanted us to fail."

    We shook our head. "I am just curious... Nostalgic."

    "About?"

    "Nothing important, I guess."

    "...So?" the sannin ventured after a moment of silence.

    We smiled, electing to respond with action rather than words. This was the moment. The beginning of an end; we could feel it in our bones. In very our soul.

    Like an itch that just won't go away.

    "Hate," we whispered to ourself as we let our eyes pan across the scenery. "They scorned our hate. They took from us believing our hatred to be one lightly borne. Our hate? Our Hate! The bitter poison of our lost love… they scorned! Why? To not even once consider the cost? To choose the forfeiture of their very souls over a peaceful existence. To choose self-inflicted bondage to an unending cycle of suffering, a relentless wheel of retribution that knows no end.

    "Those who bear the weight of our hatred," we declared, centring ourself as we pulled on every ounce of our being, galvanising our chakra as we reached out to pull and plug in a tendril of reality in our existence, "are cursed souls indeed. Let their hearts be consumed by this insidious curse, for they foolishly sought the path to ruin. They have become slaves to the whims of our rage, prisoners of our very obsessions.

    "These eyes we bear—misty, tear-stained, ethereal orbs, emblems of our grief—once windows to our mortal soul… become crimson mirrors reflecting only the abyss!"
    Our already halved chakra instantly diminished as two-thirds of it evaporated with the activation of our left Mangekyo.

    "These eyes we bear—tainted, blood-stained, unholy things, emblems of our pain—once windows to our mortal soul…

    "Become HATE!"

    Sōzōamatsukami…

    Hateful Tapestry!

    In our vision, reality warped as chakra radiated from our form like a beacon to every sentient being within a mile radius of us. The world slowed, turning hyperdetailed as causation and causality became glaringly apparent to our senses.

    "What… what was that?" Orochimaru asked, his brows twisting into a frown. We ignored him, looking past the web of intangible red threads—connecting every living being that appeared in our line of sight—at the clustered knot hidden in the shadowed heart of the village. Glowing with a near-obscene glare, almost everything in the village had a direct connection to the figure at the centre of that ethereal knot.

    The source...

    Hashirama Senju.

    The name slid off our tongue as a low, sibilant whisper. We felt his attention swivel to focus on us almost as if hearing the call. There was a flicker then two others as the First Hokage suddenly appeared on the roof of the Hokage Residence before us, ferried over by his similarly undead younger brother with the Third in tow.

    "This is the child?" Hashirama asked, his gaze not leaving our form.

    "Yes," replied Tobirama.

    Hiruzen said nothing, eyes downcast as he was the morning after our clan was murdered at his council's behest.

    We looked between the three, allowing our lips to curl into a smile.

    "Hello," we greeted, waving at the Kages with our fake hand. "Just dropping by to settle an old debt; I hope you don't mind?"

    ***​

    Elsewhere.

    Sakura fiddled with a Kunai as she absentmindedly chewed on a Sando. She watched, gaze placid, as Naruto sparred with a clone. Her substitute sensei—the supposedly "Legendary Toad Sage"—sat on a tree bough, giggling to himself like the absolutely disgusting pervert he was as he scribbled into a tiny notebook in his hand.

    It was at times like this, when the world slowed to a crawl, that she acutely felt her beloved's absence.

    Sasuke, she whispered in the privacy of her mind as she bit into her sandwich, Where are you right now? What are you thinking about?...

    Do you ever think about me even a little bit?

    I hope you are doing alright…

    I miss you.

    She sighed as she threw herself back to stare at the reddish sky above. Life, she realised, was pretty dull without Sasuke in it.

    Heh, who would have known.

    "Sup."

    Sakura blinked.

    She blinked again, a smile crawling up her face as she stared at her beloved standing over her, his left brow crooked in that charming manner it tended to when he was about to scold her. Sakura giggled and a tear leaked from her right eye.

    "I am pretty pathetic," the pinkette said out loud as she stared lovingly at the illusion her mind had conjured up.

    The illusionary Sasuke standing over her blinked, before letting out an illusionary scoff. "What in the world are you mopping around for?" he asked, crouching down to bop her on the nose. "I thought you being the smarter of the two of you would be training. The exams are in two days and you are like this... Do you even want to make chunin?"

    Sakura giggled at the ticklish feeling on her nose before a realisation suddenly hit her.

    "...Wait. You are real?"

    Sasuke tilted his head as he stared at her. "I am starting to suspect you got dumber while I was away," he drawled, tilting his head to the other side.

    Sakura sat up with a start to see a slack-jawed Naruto and his clone frozen, mid-combat, in the middle of the training ground. Jiraiya on the other hand had moved from his seat on the tree to stand between Naruto and herself, his eyes set into a wary glare. Still in disbelief, Sakura swivelled on her seat to face Sasuke crouched behind her.

    "...Sasuke?"

    "Hai, Sasuke desu."

    "...What are you doing here?!"

    "I came to see you guys, yes. Why? You don't want me back?"

    "Yes! No! I mean, yes!" She was hyperventilating. "You have to leave! Before the village finds out you are here! Now!"

    Despite her alarm and to her utter dismay, her beloved remained unfazed, sprawling his legs out to join her on the grassy floor.

    "Don't worry," Sasuke said, placing a consoling hand on her shoulder. "This is just a shadow clone. I am not really here."

    Sakura exhaled a breath of relief. Then she blinked as a thought surfaced in her mind. "The village has declared you a traitor who wants to destroy the Leaf. Now that you are here, we should go find the Hokage so you can explain everything and—"

    "I am already speaking with the Hokage," Sasuke said, interrupting her. "Or at least, my main body is. Whatever misunderstandings about who betrayed who should be resolved in a few minutes. As for destroying the village, that is already a foregone conclusion."

    Sakura exhaled a sigh of relief. "Thank—wait. I don't understand."

    "Sorry, love. I am a bit short on time. We'll talk about this later."

    Sakura watched confused as her beloved rose from his seat on the floor and dusted the underside of his kimono before turning to face Naruto who was hidden behind the sannin.

    "What do you want with Naruto?" Jiraiya asked, much to Sakura's confusion.

    "Just a bit of chakra," Sasuke replied. " I won't hurt him, I promise."

    Jiraiya's eyes narrowed as he settled into a stance. "I am sorry, but I can't allow that. Yamato! Now!"

    A mass of wood erupted beneath Sasuke's feet, binding him and utterly restricting his motion. Sakura turned to the side to see Yamato-sensei, poised with his hands taking on a wooden appearance and texture outing him as the attacker.

    In response, her beloved simply smiled. "Violence right off the bat? We really should talk about Konoha-nin's manners. Sadly for you lot, I don't have time to talk right now."

    Sasuke reappeared behind Jiraiya, a wall of crystals sprouting into existence to separate the sannin from Naruto. Jiraiya leapt to avoid the surprise attack, skidding a few meters away, his hands flashing as he executed a jutsu mid-air. It was at that moment Sakura noticed the blue-haired woman standing opposite Yamato. Another black-haired one appeared behind him, both their hands a blur as they weaved hand signs at a pace faster than her eyes could track.

    "Summoning: Gama!"

    "Blossom! Crystal Release: Jade Crystal Labyrinth Technique!"

    "Fire Release: Great Fireball Technique!"

    "Wood Release: World of Trees Wall!"

    A cloud of white smoke exploded outwards, concealing the airborne sannin for a moment before suddenly dispelling to reveal an ox-sized orange toad with blue markings. The armoured creature skidded across the field, digging furrows into the soil as it crossed its armoured forelimbs in front of its face to block the barrage of poisoned Kunai that erupted from Sasuke's left sleeve. Meanwhile, on the other side of the battlefield, a wall of wooden branches grew out of the soil at high speed, interlacing to form a wide, net-like barrier that shielded Yamato from the black-haired Kunoichi's fire-style Jutsu. The shockwave from the resulting explosion sent dust flying into Sakura's eyes.

    "Thanks, Guren. Kage. You two keep them busy while I catch up with my ol' pal here. And Sakura, stay out of trouble." His piece said Sasuke turned as a dome of black crystals erupted around himself, Naruto and Naruto's clone, blocking the trio from sight.

    ***​

    "Rasengan!"

    "Now is not the time, Naruto."

    Naruto's eyes widened in shock as we caught his wrist, stopping his attack just mere inches away from dispelling us. The shock turned into anger then outrage as he struggled futilely in our grasp.

    "Sasuke!" he screamed. "What is wrong with you? Have you really just become an ordinary criminal like they all say you are? Stop this! Now!"

    We smiled at his naivety. "I am sorry, Naruto. I can't chat right now. I am a bit short on time you see," we told him as we plucked the swirling orb of chakra sitting dangerously in his palm. We took a moment to examine the jutsu before dispelling it.

    "Hey! Fox!" we called to the demon within him as we placed a palm on Naruto's abdomen. "Come lend me some chakra."

    "And why would I do that?" the transient existence of coalesced energy said in a comical attempt to be defiant.

    "...Would you rather I eat you instead?"

    The creature fell silent before utterly surrendering its chakra to our will. We pull on it, consuming the fiery energy as Naruto squirmed in our grip, his features taking on a few animalistic traits as the demon's essence suffused his being. The process lasted just a few scant moments before we released Naruto, his weakened form dropping to the floor like a puppet with cut strings. We glanced down at our body to see a cloak of yellow chakra, reminiscent of flickering flames, coating our form. A pair of phantasmal horns sprouted on our head and six magatama markings formed along our chest like a necklace.

    Exhaling, we released our grip on the crystal construct around us. Hairline cracks travelled through the dome before the entire structure shattered, revealing the outside world again to our senses. Just a few moments had passed since we erected the dome, yet the training grounds had been rendered near-unrecognisable by the battle outside. Our Blood Clone, Kage, and Guren were still locked in combat with the sannin and the Wood Release user. Already, the two women were on the back foot, just barely managing to keep their assailants at bay.

    "Kage, take Guren and redeploy," we instructed. The Blood Clone nodded, flickering to Guren's side before ferrying her away using Flying Thunder God Jutsu. We shot a side eye at the others in the field, before wordlessly dispelling ourself and transferring all other gathered chakra to the original.

    There was no point in engaging them any further. We trusted the effects of Guren's Jade Crystal Labyrinth to keep them contained for a while.

    ***​

    Hokage Rock.

    We guffawed.

    "Peace?" we repeated as we stared at the First Hokage in wonder. "For one touted to be the God of Shinobi you are quite naive. I don't care about your peace, your ideals, or your village, Hokage. Konoha took everything from me. Balance can only be restored when that debt is paid in full!"

    The Senju sighed. "Sasuke… we acknowledge the atrocities committed against your clan. We're willing to take responsibility and make amends. But revenge won't bring your clan back, nor violence won't lead to peace. It will only perpetuate the cycle of hatred and cost even more lives. Please, reconsider."

    "...Amends?" we muttered as we considered the Senju's words. "I only seek to exterminate the clans of all involved in the massacre of mine. The Sarutobis, Senjus, Shimuras, Utatanes and Mitokados. Only they have to die. The rest of the village can continue on as it always has. Are you willing? ... For peace?"

    The Hokage fell silent, his lips pressed into a straight line.

    Our eyes narrowed. We spoke, voice dripping with contempt. "The Greater Good… it's only good when the price has to be paid by another, right?

    "...I told you he was a lost cause," Tobirama scoffed. "The boy is far too gone, consumed by his hate, to ever be saved."

    "Sasuke." We turned to glance at Hiruzen. "Please! Destruction will only lead to more suffering!"

    We smiled, as we felt our chakra return, carrying with it the essence of the fox.

    It was time.

    "For every deed," we told the Kages, our gaze panning to regard the amassing ANBU and ROOT operatives creating a perimeter around us, "a price must be paid… You are mistaken if you think I would let your mistakes go unpunished. The price for taking my clansmen's lives is long overdue and I have come to collect.

    "Never again would an Uchiha's hate be scorned…"
     
  • Threadmarks
    • INTERLUDE (5)
  • Threadmarks
    • INTERLUDE (5)
    LAND OF EARTH​


    The mountains loomed tall and imposing, their jagged peaks clawing into the grey clouds that hung low in the sky above. Itachi sighed as slid past the forested terrain with uncanny ease; his stoic mask broken in his solitude.

    Near solitude. Tobi trailed behind a few meters away, babbling away, obnoxious as ever. It always unnerved him how easily the fellow kinslayer wore this mask named Tobi.

    The younger Uchiha came to a stop at the edge of a cliff. His gaze panned down to regard the crude shack hidden in the crevice of the valley below. He could sense their target's chakra from within; the fellow wrongly assuming he was safe this far out from civilization, unaware of just how desperately his enemies desired his demise.

    Distracted, Itachi made his way down the steep incline eager to quickly finish his task. He hadn't heard any word of his troublesome sibling for many weeks now. Scouring the mountainous expanse that was the Land of Earth for a single shinobi in hiding was a rather distracting endeavour you see. The absence of news regarding the little one did more harm to his health than the silly child's pervasive hatred or his insidious jutsu.

    In the turbulent depths of his heart, Itachi found himself torn asunder by the maelstrom of emotions that accompanied his little brother's relentless disobedience. Sasuke, a name that once held the promise of a bright future, now carried the weight of recklessness and defiance.

    Ah, young Sasuke, how far will you stray from the path I sought to set you upon?

    It was not merely disobedience, Itachi realised, but a reckless defiance that coursed through the child's veins. The boy yearned for power, for vengeance, for an ill-conceived notion of justice, and in his pursuit, he cast aside all wisdom, all caution. He plunged headlong into danger, heedless of the perils that lurked in the shadows as if he were invincible.

    Itachi sighed. Oh, how his heart bled when he faced the child, compelled to hurt him, to cripple him, to thwart his reckless ambition. The agony of that moment, the weight of the decision, bore down upon his soul to this very day. Itachi swore to himself had no desire to harm the boy, his dear boy, but the wicked child left him with no other recourse. He unleashed his firey curse on the boy, to limit him.

    To protect him from the abyss he was hurtling toward.

    Itachi grunted in annoyance as he skewered his target through the heart. His eyes glazed over as he gazed into his victim's eyes, the reflection of his own sorrow mirrored back at him. At that moment, he remembered the cost of his choice. he had become the instrument of his pain, a tormentor clad in the guise of a brother, and his beloved child, the recipient of his judgment.

    Sasuke, my dear brother, Itachi whispered in the sanctity of his mind as if the child might hear him, I did what I did out of love, out of duty, out of desperation. Please… forgive me.

    As Itachi severed the target's head to deliver to their employer for payment, he was reminded of the necessity of his actions. The path he trod upon, a path paved with shadows, cruelty and deception, is but a reflection of the path his child now walked.

    Their paths have diverged, and as much as it pained him, it might have been the right choice. Still, his heart ached as he contemplated the irony of it all. He, who has taken countless lives in service to the greater good, is forced to weigh the safety of his own brother against his potential. The wicked child. Silly little thing.

    Perhaps I should just leave him to his devices? The traitorous thought arose in Itachi's heart

    He is just a boy! Another growled in defence of his child, He knows not what he does, or what power he wields. Who will watch over him if not for you? Who will keep him out of the trouble he so desperately—

    Itachi turned around, his expression hardening suddenly. The air was still, pregnant with tension, as his crimson gaze caught a woman's lithe form standing alone on a rocky precipice.

    "Konan-san!" Tobi exclaimed stopping halfway through a rant Itachi failed to register in his absentmindedness. The older Uchiha waved at the woman in a rather exaggerated manner as he ran up to her.

    "We weren't expecting you," Itachi stated simply.

    The woman said nothing, cobalt eyes staring blankly at him as her azure hair fluttered in the wind. Itachi's thoughts raced like a well-oiled machine. Something was wrong.

    It was then he caught sight of the orange-haired, purple-eyed fellow standing in the woman's shadow.

    "Pain," Itachi intoned calmly.

    "You betrayed our trust," the man replied blandly as he walked past Madara who had tripped over his own feet before nearly hugging the blue-haired woman. Had Itachi not been aware of his true nature, he might have failed to notice the staged act for what it was.

    His Sharingan followed Pain's movement as he approached before coming to a halt a few dozen meters away. "I don't understand?" Itachi replied, his expression unchanging.

    "Konoha ordered the extermination of the Uchiha, am I correct?" said Pain.

    Itachi's swirling pupils grew still at that revelation.

    "Would I also be correct in assuming you are still operating according to Konoha's directive?"

    Silence.

    Pain nodded, his gaze unrelenting. "The Akatsuki is not an organization that tolerates deception, Itachi Uchiha. First Orochimaru, now you? It would be rather unbecoming of me to allow another traitor to go scot-free."

    "...How did you find out?" Itachi asked.

    "Everyone knows these days," Konan drawled from the rear. "Afraid your brother would find out? Don't worry he already has. The leaf has already declared him a traitor; surprisingly, the bounty on his head is just a bit higher than the one they issued when you exterminated your clan."

    For the third time that day, Itachi's mask slipped.

    No…

    "Scary," Tobi whimpered from his position face down in the dirt.

    Konan looked down to stare blandly at the man sprawled before her feet. "Will you intervene?" she asked.

    The Uchiha shook his head vigorously, his clay mask scrapping noisily against the gravelly floor. "Nope!" he replied, popping the "P" in the word. "Not my business."

    "No matter," Pain said, speaking directly to Itachi.

    "You are not leaving this place alive either way."
     
  • Threadmarks
    • 051 - Konoha Crushed {PT. I}
  • Threadmarks
    • 051 - Konoha Crushed {PT. I}
    KONOHA​


    "Orochimaru," the boy drawled as he pulled a tanto free from the scabbard tucked into his obi. In response, his partner shot him a cool side-eye. "Go find Danzo. I believe I can handle this lot on my lonesome."

    There was a pause, a beat of hesitation before the one referred to as Orochimaru ran his long serpentine tongue over his lips.

    "...Very well."

    Hashirama watched, befuddled, as the young Uchiha's partner sunk into the stone floor, leaving him behind.

    Alone.

    Surrounded by a full quarter of Konoha's entire ANBU force.

    Hashirama sighed. Truly, the line between confidence and arrogance is very fine, and the line between arrogance and stupidity even finer indeed.

    "If you ever paid attention in your history classes," The First Hokage said to the boy, "then you should be well aware that possessing the Nine-tails chakra means nothing right now. I will admit, it is impressive in and of itself that you managed to convince the Kyuubi to lend you some of its chakra, but, child, you must at least be aware…

    "Nothing will come from this foolishness."

    The Uchiha said nothing, silent as he twirled the short blade in his hand with a fancy flourish. Relaxed. A stiff breeze blew past, ruffling his loose silken mane and the voluminous sleeves of his Kimono. It was only at that moment, that Hashirama truly registered the boy's attire. Dark blue and high-collared in the manner the Uchiha were so fond of; a pair of Getas on his feet. The boy was very obviously a traditionalist.

    "I don't want to hurt you, child," Hashirama tried again, pleading; desperate to dissuade the child from this path of self-destruction.

    "It's pointless, brother," Tobirama interjected from his side as he unsheathed his weapon. "This one is beyond saving."

    A despairing sigh escaped Hashirama's chest. Where had they gone wrong? He wondered to himself as he called upon his chakra. To lose such a promising seed to the darkness? Words alone could not describe his pain.

    "Sage Art!"

    Dark markings appeared around Hashirama's face as Senjutsu chakra suffused his being. Opposite him, the flickering coat of fiery chakra that radiated from Sasuke's core stilled for a moment.

    That was the only warning either of them got before the boy moved.

    Hashirama sensed the potent chakra to his right before he ever saw the telltale flicker of the boy's lithe form travelling at transonic speed. He sensed it before he felt the sudden pressure of displaced air rushing out of the way; before the thunderclap of the resultant sonic boom reached his ears.

    Instinctively, Hashirama leaned out of the way of a slash aimed at beheading him, his eyes—for a split moment—meeting the young Uchiha's crimson ones. His chakra pulsed as he shrugged off an otherwise lethal barrage of Genjutsu.

    "Wood Release: Great Forest Technique!"

    Still off balance, Hashirama punched forward, his chakra stimulating the tissues in his fist to grow rapidly and lengthen at high speed before forking out into many branches. The tips of these branches transformed into sharp stakes that stabbed towards the young Uchiha. In response, the boy slammed his foot into the floor, a small wall of earth rising to intercept the stakes. The barrier detonated explosively upon contact to create a billowing plume of dust that blocked Hashirama's line of sight for a moment. A figure emerged from his right, only for the Hokage to dispel it and suddenly realise it was merely a shadow clone.

    Nearly blindsided, Hashirama leaned out of the way of another slash aimed at severing his head from his body before blocking a kick that propelled him a few dozen feet backwards with his forearms—his feet digging furrows into the concrete beneath him. Arresting his momentum, Hashirama charged back into the fray, his hands a blur as he weaved hand signs.

    "Wood Clone Technique!"

    Four clones peeled off his back as he caught up to Sasuke propelling himself off Tobirama's back with a kick before clothlining Hiruzen. The two were able to disengage only slightly bruised but the same could not be said for the ANBU operatives that tried to intervene. Already Hashirama could count five corpses.

    The fight was only three seconds in.

    Gritting his teeth, The First Hokage attempted to corral the boy away from the weaker combatants, his clones vectoring to force him on the defensive while his main body flanked from the right. Sensing his intent his fellow Kages flickered forth in search of an opening with which they might exploit.

    Drawing on his chakra, Hashirama weaved a seal before punching into the floor in the direction of the Uchiha. A bulge of earth travelled forth from his fist to explode as a deadly mass of roots seeking to skewer his opponent. A powerful torrent shot out of Tobirama's mouth at the Uchiha. A bolt of lightning shot out of Hiruzen's palm to travel along the torrent of water launched at the boy as it synergized seamlessly with the other Kage's technique.

    Sasuke vanished just before the lethal combination could connect, reappearing a few meters to the left.

    Was that—

    Before the thought could fully take hold in Hashirama's mind, Sasuke's crimson gaze swivelled to meet his. The expected barrage of genjutsu did not arrive. Instead, the boy's good hand formed a single one-handed ram seal as clones began to peel from his form, poised to race forward and engage his fellow Kages close up, possibly in a bid to prevent any further use of collaborative jutsu—

    Hashirama felt reality slow to a halt.

    Something was wrong.

    Something was very wrong.

    Milliseconds tick along as the Kage's eyes flickered about the battlefield in search of what made his heckles rise. Connected to nature as he was, he felt things most shinobi didn't. He knew at that moment something was not adding up.

    His gaze flickered to the clones still peeling off the Uchiha's form. Then to the embers igniting in the boy's mouth. Then to the single hand sign poised in front of the boy's chest. There was nothing inherently special about the sign. It was a simple, albeit non-standard, one-handed Ram Seal. The type used by experts as a shortcut to executing a Shadow Clone Jutsu or a Fireball Jutsu. But definitely not both at the same time.

    Yet for some odd reason, Sasuke's maw lit up like a live furnace as chakra kindled at the back of his throat.

    "Wood Release: World of Trees Wall!"

    Hashirama slammed his palm on the floor as he summoned a net-like wall of interlocking branches to block the sea of ignited chakra that spewed out of the boy's maw like Dragonfire. Then as if in mockery of his efforts, one of the boy's clones, still in the process of separating from its creator, reached up with chakra-coated digits to press on the Uchiha's abdomen.

    Then as if switching a dial, it turned.

    The sea of flames pouring out of the boy's mouth suddenly condensed, narrowing into a white-hot beam the thickness of a finger. As the beam took shape, there was a high-pitched, whining noise that grew in intensity, followed by an ominous crackling sound—akin to radio static—and an echoing reverb.

    Hashirama's eyes widened as the focused stream of volatile chakra chewed through his barrier in milliseconds.

    Oh—

    ***​

    Tobirama's eyes narrowed as Hashirama's torso was vapourised by the sudden beam that continued on to destroy a cluster of buildings in the distance. With that insidious play, Konoha's most potent combatant had just been put on a forced cool-down for at least two minutes. It might have seemed like a short period of time but at the pace at which this battle was going, two minutes was very long indeed.

    The boy had to die.

    Now.

    Tobirama slid under a slash that would have cut him in two before mostly tanking a flying kick from another clone to the shoulder as he raced for the Uchiha's real body. His hands blurred through hand signs before he spat out a high-pressure stream of water at his opponent. To his right, Hiruzen telekinetically hurled pressurised, chakra-infused roof tiles that exploded on impact at the boy.

    Tobirama's Water Severing Wave is countered by the boy's bastardised Fire Release variant while Hiruzen's barrage of high-explosive projectiles is intercepted by an Earth Wall erected by one shadow clone. A cloud of dust and steam obfuscates the battlefield but that did little to dissuade Tobirama who charges into the screen. Picking out the Uchiha via sound and chakra sensing alone he swings down in a bid to cleave the Uchiha in twine.

    In response, the Uchiha raises his bone-white prosthetic to catch the blade in its palm.

    "Tobirama," the boy drawled, a mocking lilt in his tone. "You never learn do you?"

    The Second Hokage tried to pull away, only to realise he had been caught again by the boy's pilfered Shadow Possession technique. Tobirama's gaze narrowed in suspicion. Wasn't he worried about being rendered immobile in a battle like this? It was then his ears picked up the sound of combat just outside the screen of steam and dust. The answer to his question came quickly to him.

    Clones.

    Another shadow clone stepped into view from behind the Uchiha's real—No!

    "I owe you a favour for last time," the second clone said. "I am sorry your current state won't let you enjoy it as much as I did."

    "Mutually Multiplying Explosive Tags!"
     
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