Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

     Sasuke sat in his darkened bedroom, the wooden floorboards cold beneath him. His arms rested limply on his knees, his hands trembling slightly as they hung lifelessly in front of him. His onyx eyes were empty, staring downward, unblinking, at the cracks in the wood. The moonlight filtered weakly through the window, casting long shadows that seemed to stretch and distort around him, enclosing him in an inescapable abyss.

     He thought he was strong.

     After all his training, after all his determination, after everything he had endured—he had truly believed that he had grown. He had convinced himself that he was no longer that helpless child, that he had closed the gap between him and Itachi. But that day at the inn had proven otherwise.

     Sasuke’s breath hitched. His fingers curled into trembling fists.

     It had happened so quickly. One moment he was lunging at Itachi with everything he had, and the next, he was overpowered—again. His wrist twisted, his arm snapped like a brittle twig, and he was reduced to a writhing mess on the floor. The pain had been overwhelming, but the humiliation had been worse. Then came the suffocating pressure of Itachi’s fingers around his throat, squeezing, lifting him like he was weightless, like he was nothing.

     “Why are you so weak?”

     The words reverberated in his skull like an inescapable curse.

     Then the world had dissolved into a nightmare. The bloodied corpses of his clan surrounded him, lifeless eyes staring into his soul. The metallic stench of death filled his lungs, suffocating him. His parents lay before him, their faces frozen in a final moment of fear. And then Itachi, standing amidst the carnage, his Sharingan spinning, cold and unfeeling.

     “Foolish little brother…”

     The illusion had played on an endless loop, dragging him through the massacre over and over again until his mind shattered under the weight of it. Itachi had discarded him like he wasn’t even worth killing, leaving him with nothing but torment.

     Sasuke exhaled shakily, his fingers digging into his knees. His body ached, not just from the wounds but from the unbearable weight of his failure.

     He had thought he could fight Naruto on equal footing. But on the hospital rooftop, when he had aimed his Chidori at Naruto, expecting to put an end to their ridiculous rivalry, Kakashi had stopped him with a single hand. Effortlessly. As if Sasuke’s strength was nothing. Naruto had grown stronger—probably stronger than him. The thought alone was infuriating. Hadn’t he always been ahead? Hadn’t Naruto always been the dead last, chasing after him?

     And then the Sound Four had come. They had beaten him without breaking a sweat. They had crushed his pride, shattered any remaining illusion that he was strong, and yet they had extended an invitation—to Orochimaru. To power.

     Sasuke’s breathing became uneven. He clenched his jaw, pushing himself up. His legs felt weak, but he forced himself toward the bathroom. Each step was heavy, but the weight wasn’t physical. It was everything—the pain, the humiliation, the sheer helplessness that clung to him like a curse.

     The faucet groaned as he turned it on. Cold water gushed out. He scooped a handful and splashed it onto his face, letting the chill bite into his skin, ground him.

     Then he looked up.

     His Sharingan had activated.

     Sasuke’s breath caught in his throat. He stepped back, staring at his reflection, watching as the three tomoe spun slowly in his crimson irises. The sight sent a chill down his spine. His hands trembled as he reached up, gripping the bandages wrapped around his arms. He pulled at them, unraveling the layers, revealing the bruises, the cuts, the evidence of his repeated failures.

     His eyes remained fixed on the mirror.

     Memories swirled like a storm—his father’s cold disappointment, his mother’s gentle yet helpless smile, the villagers’ murmurs comparing him to Itachi, the suffocating expectation, the pitying looks, the pain, the loss.

     Itachi’s voice whispered in the back of his mind.

     “You lack hatred.”

     He clenched his fists. His nails dug into his palms.

     The mirror changed.

     It wasn’t him anymore.

     It was Itachi.

     Sasuke stumbled back, his breath quickening. His heart pounded against his ribs, rage boiling beneath his skin, clawing at his insides. Before he realized what he was doing, his fist flew forward.

     Glass shattered.

     Shards rained down onto the sink, onto the floor, onto his skin. He barely felt them. His chest rose and fell rapidly as he stared at the fractured mirror, his reflection fragmented into a thousand broken pieces.

     Something glinted in the dim light.

     A large shard of glass lay in his palm, stained crimson.

     Drip.

     Drip.

     Drip.

     Blood trickled down, splashing against the white porcelain sink, seeping into the cracks of the shattered glass below.

     Sasuke exhaled shakily. His grip on the shard loosened.

     He stared at the blood.

     Weak.

     He was still that same weak little boy. The one left behind in the dark. The one never strong enough to protect anything. The one always reaching, always falling short.

     But not anymore.

     His fingers tightened around the shard again. His bloodied Sharingan burned in the reflection.

     Not anymore.

     The first thing Sasuke became aware of was the cold.

     His body felt stiff, his limbs unresponsive. His vision was hazy, his breath shallow. The dim morning light filtered through the small bathroom window, casting an eerie glow over the scene.

     His arms were drenched in red.

     Sasuke stared down at himself, barely registering the blood that soaked his skin, smeared across his hands, dripping onto the floor in thick, slow droplets. His fingers clenched weakly around a jagged glass shard, its edges gleaming with fresh crimson. He could feel the dull ache beneath his skin, the deep stinging in his forearms, but it all felt distant—muted.

     Did he pass out?

     His mind felt foggy, the events of the night before slipping through his grasp like water. He remembered the mirror shattering. He remembered watching the blood drip. And then—

     Nothing.

     Had he really been that weak?

     A voice in his head clicked its tongue in   disappointment.

     “Pathetic.”

     Sasuke flinched. His breath hitched in his throat.

     Then another voice whispered.

     “You think you’re strong? Look at yourself.”

     A third.

     “No wonder Itachi didn’t bother finishing you off.”

     More voices began to murmur, overlapping, filling his head with a chorus of contempt. They multiplied, whispering, taunting, growing louder, growing unbearable—

      Sasuke’s hands flew to his head. His fingers dug into his scalp as he squeezed his eyes shut, his breath coming in sharp gasps. The whispering continued, growing more distorted, more venomous, pressing in from all sides.

     “Weak.”

     “A disgrace.”

     “You’ll never be enough.”

     “Just give up.”

     “You lack hatred.”

     Sasuke gritted his teeth. His heart pounded violently in his chest.

     And then—he moved.

     With a sudden burst of motion, Sasuke slammed his head against the bathroom wall. A sharp crack echoed through the small space. The pain was instant, a blinding shock that rippled through his skull.

     Silence.

     The voices stopped.

     Sasuke let out a shaky breath. His body trembled, his vision spinning slightly from the impact. Slowly, he peeled himself off the wall, staggering slightly before catching himself. His arms were still bleeding.

     He had to clean himself up.

     With slow, deliberate steps, he exited the bathroom and made his way toward his medical kit. His fingers were unsteady as he broke open the container, pulling out disinfectant and bandages. He didn’t flinch when the alcohol stung against his wounds—he welcomed the pain. It was grounding.  It reminded him that he was still here.

     His eyes flickered to the clock. It was time to meet his team.

     Sasuke exhaled quietly. His body felt heavier than usual, exhaustion weighing down on his muscles like iron chains, but he still moved to his dresser and pulled out his usual outfit. His hands worked mechanically, discarding his bloodied clothes and dressing himself without much thought.

     He hesitated only briefly at the thought of grabbing something to eat.

     No.

    He wasn’t worthy of food.

     Without another glance back, Sasuke exited his home, heading toward the training grounds.

     As expected, Kakashi was late.

     Naruto stood a few feet away, pacing back and  forth with his arms crossed, his expression twisted into a mix of frustration and impatience.

     “Unbelievable! He’s late again!” Naruto huffed. “How does he always manage to top his own record for tardiness? Does he even take this  seriously?”

     Sasuke barely reacted. He had long stopped expecting Kakashi to arrive on time. He had long started wondering if their sensei even wanted them as students in the first place. Maybe this was all just a formality—train them up, make sure they pass the Chunin Exams, then leave them behind. Maybe they weren’t even worth his time.

     The voices stirred again, muttering, whispering.

     “He doesn’t care about you.”

     “No one does.”

     Sasuke stiffened slightly, his fingers twitching. His head felt light. He barely even noticed Sakura approaching him.

     “Sasuke-kun?”

     He blinked. The voices cut off.

     Sakura was standing in front of him, her emerald eyes filled with hesitant concern.

     “I was wondering,” she started, shifting slightly on her feet, “if you wanted to hang out after training. Or maybe just grab something to eat? My treat.” She offered a small, hopeful smile.

     Sasuke opened his mouth to respond—

     A puff of smoke appeared a few feet away.

    “Yo.”

    Kakashi had arrived.

     Immediately Naruto and Sakura turned on their teacher.

     “YOU’RE LATE!” Naruto shouted, jabbing a finger at Kakashi.

     “You said you’d be on time today!” Sakura added, crossing her arms.

     Kakashi rubbed the back of his head, offering his usual sheepish excuse. “Well, you see, there was this lost cat that needed my help, and then I got caught up reading this really interesting chapter of my book…”

     Sasuke wasn’t surprised. He didn’t even react.

     Training proceeded as expected—basic exercises, standard drills. Nothing new.

     And yet—Sasuke was struggling.

    His body wasn’t responding the way it should have. His movements were sluggish, his balance off. Every step felt heavier, every strike weaker. His vision blurred slightly at times, his exhaustion creeping in, but he forced himself through it. He wouldn’t show weakness.

     But Kakashi noticed.

     The paleness of Sasuke’s skin, the dark circles beneath his eyes, the way he wavered slightly between exercises. And then there was the scent—faint but unmistakable. The sharp, metallic tang of blood.

     It clung to Sasuke.

     When training finally ended, Kakashi dismissed Naruto and Sakura, offering his usual lazy wave.

     “Sasuke, stay behind.”

     Naruto and Sakura hesitated, exchanging glances before heading off.

     Silence settled over the training ground.

     Sasuke stood still, his gaze unreadable, but Kakashi could see the tension in his posture.

     Kakashi’s single visible eye studied him carefully.

     “Sasuke,” he said, voice unreadable. “What’s going on with you?”

     Sasuke didn’t answer. He just stared, his expression blank.

     Kakashi’s gaze didn’t waver.

     “I’m not blind,” he continued. “You’re exhausted. You’re not keeping up like you usually do. And—” He paused. “You’re covered in fresh bandages.”

     Sasuke’s fingers twitched slightly at his sides.

     Kakashi sighed, tilting his head slightly. “You’re pushing yourself too hard. Whatever you’re doing, it’s not healthy.”

     Sasuke’s jaw clenched. He looked away.

     Kakashi exhaled through his nose, shoving his hands into his pockets.

     “I won’t force you to talk,” he said finally. “But I’ll say this—self-destruction isn’t the same as strength.”

     Sasuke’s eyes flickered.

     Kakashi held his gaze for a long moment before turning away. “Go home, Sasuke.”

      And then he was gone.

     Sasuke stood there, unmoving, the wind rustling through the trees around him.

     The voices were stirring again.

     But this time, he ignored them.

     For now.

Chapter Text

     Sasuke didn’t go to the training grounds. He didn’t go anywhere.

     He remained in his house, isolated from the outside world, letting time slip by without meaning. He sat on the cold tile of his bathroom, his back against the wall, staring blankly at the floor. His arms rested limply at his sides, bandages wrapped haphazardly around them. Dried blood clung to his skin, staining the white fabric a sickly brownish-red.

     The mirror remained shattered.

     Fragments of glass still littered the floor, reflecting fractured pieces of the dim morning light that filtered through the window. The sink was streaked with crimson. The walls bore faint smudges of blood where his hands had rested, shaking and weak, the night before.

     But he didn’t clean it.

     He didn’t move.

     The house was silent, save for the occasional gust of wind rattling against the windows. It was freezing, but Sasuke barely felt it.

     His stomach twisted uncomfortably, a dull ache gnawing at him from the inside. He ignored it. Eating felt pointless. He didn’t deserve food.

     Hours passed.

     He remained seated in the same position, his gaze unfocused, his mind drifting in and out of numbness. Sometimes the voices returned, faint whispers at the edges of his consciousness, but he was too tired to acknowledge them.

     He felt empty.

     Like a ghost in his own home.

     And he welcomed it.

     Life continued.

     Sasuke returned to his routine as if nothing had changed. Wake up. Sometimes eat, sometimes don’t. Go on missions. Train with his team. Return home. Train alone. Punish himself until the voices quieted. Pass out from exhaustion. Wake up and do it all again.

     Days blurred into weeks.

     His movements felt mechanical, his body on autopilot. He responded when spoken to. He fought when needed, but his mind was elsewhere. It always was.

     Naruto noticed first.

     “Oi, Sasuke, what’s with you lately?” Naruto asked one day after training. “You’ve been acting weird.”

     Sasuke had barely heard him.

     “I’m fine,” he replied flatly.

     Sakura had frowned, stepping closer. “You’re barely eating during lunch breaks. You don’t even seem all that focused during training. Are you—” She hesitated. “Are you okay?”

     Sasuke had forced himself to look at her, at the concern in her eyes, at Naruto’s expectant expression.

      They wouldn’t understand.

      He couldn’t explain the weight pressing down on his chest. He couldn’t explain the voices. The self-inflicted wounds. The exhaustion that never seemed to fade.

     So he didn’t.

     “I said I’m fine.”

     They didn’t believe him.

     Naruto narrowed his eyes, but didn’t push further. Sakura glanced at Kakashi, who had been observing silently from a few feet away. Their sensei’s eye lingered on Sasuke longer than usual.

     Sasuke ignored them all.

     He ignored their concern, ignored their stares, ignored the silent question in their eyes.

     It didn’t matter.

     Time dragged on, and before Sasuke knew it, two months had passed.

     The morning was crisp and quiet when Team 7 was called into Lady Tsunade’s office. Sasuke trailed behind Naruto and Sakura as they entered, his hands tucked into his pockets. The dim candlelight of the office flickered against the walls, casting long shadows.

     Naruto was practically buzzing with excitement.

     “So, what’s our mission?” Naruto asked eagerly.

     Sakura stood beside him, smiling slightly, though she, too, had been more watchful of Sasuke lately.

     Tsunade glanced at them before picking up a scroll from her desk. 

     “It’s a simple C-rank mission,” she stated, rolling the scroll between her fingers. “You’ll be escorting a merchant caravan to the border of the Land of Fire. It shouldn’t take more than a few days.”

     Naruto groaned. “Another escort mission? That’s so boring!”

     Sakura sighed. “Naruto, not every mission is going to be exciting.”

     Naruto crossed his arms, still pouting.

     Sasuke remained silent. He didn’t care what the mission was. It didn’t matter.

     Tsunade’s sharp gaze flickered toward him  briefly, as if studying him.

      “Any questions?” she asked.

     Sasuke shook his head. Naruto and Sakura didn’t ask anything else.

     Tsunade sighed, placing the scroll down. “Then you’re dismissed. You leave tomorrow morning.”

     Naruto turned to leave, already muttering complaints under his breath. Sakura followed, glancing at Sasuke from the corner of her eye.

     Sasuke stood there for a moment, unmoving. Then, without a word, he turned and walked out after them.

     Sasuke arrived at Konoha’s front gates early the next morning.

     The sky was still tinged with the deep hues of dawn, a cold breeze rustling through the trees as he adjusted the straps of his pack. He hadn’t bothered to eat. The thought alone made his stomach turn.

     Naruto and Sakura were already there, standing off to the side. Naruto, as expected, was the first to break the silence.

     “Man, I hope this mission doesn’t end up being super boring,” he groaned, stretching his arms behind his head. “I mean, escorting a bunch of merchants for a whole week? Lame!”

     Sakura sighed. “Not every mission has to be life-threatening, Naruto.”

     “Yeah, but still!” Naruto huffed, then turned to Sasuke. “What about you, huh? Think this mission is gonna be a total drag?”

     Sasuke barely looked at him. “It doesn’t matter.”

     Naruto frowned slightly at the noncommittal response but didn’t press the issue.

     Minutes passed before Kakashi finally arrived in his usual manner—calm, cool, and unapologetically late.

     “Yo,” he greeted, raising a hand lazily.

     “YOU’RE LATE!” Naruto and Sakura shouted in unison.

     Kakashi simply waved them off. “I got lost on the way here.”

     “Liar!” Naruto barked.

     Ignoring the protests, Kakashi turned to the waiting merchants. “Shall we get moving?”

     And with that, they set out.

     The first four days passed without incident. The merchants were slow-moving and the journey was uneventful. Sasuke remained quiet for most of it, speaking only when necessary. He spent the nights sitting up against a tree, feigning rest but never truly sleeping. The voices always stirred at night, whispering, hissing, reminding him of things he wanted to forget.

     By the fifth day, the monotony was broken. Bandits attacked near dusk. A dozen of them, armed and desperate, leapt from the trees and charged at the caravan with reckless abandon.

     It wasn’t even a challenge.

     Sasuke moved like a specter, his Sharingan flaring to life as he cut through them with ruthless efficiency. Naruto and Sakura held their own with ease and Kakashi barely had to intervene. Within minutes the fight was over. The few survivors fled into the forest, leaving their fallen comrades behind.

     Sasuke barely felt the rush of battle. The blood on his hands barely registered. It was just another fight.

     They carried on.

     By the seventh day, they reached their destination. The merchants offered their gratitude, relieved to have arrived safely. Team 7 wasted no time turning around and heading home.

     They pushed hard, cutting their travel time down to under three days. Sasuke barely felt the exhaustion—only the adrenaline keeping him moving. The lack of sleep gnawed at him, but he endured it. He always did.

     The voices whispered louder each night. He ignored them.

     By the time they arrived back at Konoha’s gates, Sasuke felt like a ghost wearing his own skin.

     The team made their way to the Hokage Tower, their steps weary but steady. Tsunade sat behind her desk, glancing up as they entered.

      “You’re back early,” she remarked.

      Kakashi nodded. “The mission went smoothly. We ran into some minor trouble with bandits, but nothing too difficult.”

     Tsunade hummed in acknowledgment, skimming through the written report Kakashi handed her. “Good work. You’re dismissed.”

     With that, the team headed downstairs to collect their payment. The clerk at the front desk handed over their earnings, counting out the appropriate amount for each of them. As Sasuke took his share, Kakashi spoke up.

     “Good work, everyone.”

     Naruto grinned. “Heh, of course!”

     Sakura smiled but glanced toward Sasuke.

     Kakashi’s gaze lingered on him a beat longer than necessary.

     Naruto and Sakura noticed.

     Sasuke didn’t acknowledge it.

     “What are you staring at?” he finally muttered.

     Sakura hesitated before speaking. “Sasuke… have you been getting enough sleep?”

     Sasuke didn’t flinch. His expression remained unreadable. “I have.”

     Naruto scowled. “Liar.”

     Sasuke turned his head slightly.

     “You look like hell,” Naruto continued, crossing his arms. “You think we haven’t noticed? You’ve been running on fumes this whole time!”

     Sasuke’s fingers twitched. Irritation flickered in his chest. “It’s none of your business whether I sleep or not.”

     Naruto’s eyes narrowed. “It is when you’re part of a team!”

     Sasuke turned on his heel, intending to leave, but before he could take a step, Kakashi’s hand shot out and grabbed his wrist.

      “That’s enough,” Kakashi chided. “Lashing out at your teammates won’t help anything.”

     Sasuke flinched.

     The reaction was small—barely perceptible—but Kakashi caught it.

     His grip loosened slightly. “Are you injured?”

     Sasuke immediately jerked his arm away, “I’m fine.”

     Kakashi didn’t believe him, neither did Naruto or Sakura. Before they could press further, a sharp, searing sensation flared at the base of Sasuke’s neck.

     The curse mark.

     It was faint—barely a whisper of heat against his skin—but it was there.

     Sasuke clenched his fists and turned away without another word, walking off. No one stopped him.

     Sasuke stepped through the threshold of his home and dropped his pack by the door.

     The house was dark. Cold. Silent.

     He locked the door behind him and made his way upstairs, his body moving on instinct alone. The moment he reached his room, he collapsed onto his bed. His limbs felt heavy. His mind fogged. His body was nothing but exhaustion and raw nerves.

     Sleep claimed him before he could fight it.

     A sharp knock echoed through the silent Uchiha compound. Sasuke stirred, sluggishly forcing himself upright. His body felt heavy, his mind hazy. He rubbed his eyes before swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. How long had he been out? It couldn’t have been more than a few hours—

     Another knock. More insistent this time.

     Sasuke groggily pushed himself to his feet and made his way downstairs. His limbs protested with every step, muscles stiff from disuse. He reached the front door, barely registering the movement as he pulled it open.

     Naruto, Sakura, and Kakashi stood on the other side.

     Sasuke blinked at them. “…What are you doing here?”

     Naruto crossed his arms. “What do you mean ‘what are we doing here?’ We haven’t seen you in two days, bastard!”

     Sasuke’s breath hitched.

     Two days?

     His eyes widened slightly. Had he really slept through two entire days?

     He clenched his jaw. That was two days wasted—two days he could’ve spent training, getting stronger, preparing himself for the inevitable battle against Itachi. His grip on the doorframe tightened.

     Sakura shifted, holding up a basket full of food. “We were worried, Sasuke-kun. Can we come in?”

     Sasuke hesitated, then reluctantly stepped aside.

     As Naruto and Sakura entered, Naruto immediately whistled, his eyes scanning the interior. “Man, I’ve never actually seen the inside of your house before.”

     Sakura nodded in agreement, her gaze lingering on the immaculate yet eerily empty space. “It’s a nice place, Sasuke-kun. It’s… quiet.”

     Too quiet.

     Sakura set the basket down on the kitchen table, carefully unpacking the neatly wrapped meals she had prepared. The scent of warm rice and miso soup filled the air, but Sasuke didn’t react.

     Sakura broke the silence. “Sasuke… we know you haven’t been acting the same since you got back from the hospital.”

     Sasuke tensed but said nothing.

     Sakura sighed. “I’m not going to pretend I know what’s going on. I don’t. But the least I can do is be here. As a friend, as a teammate.”

     Naruto nodded, his usual loud energy subdued. “Yeah, man. We’re a team. That means we stick together, no matter what.”

     Their words barely registered.

     Sasuke’s mind was elsewhere—trapped in the endless cycle of his own failures. The fight with Itachi. The rooftop battle with Naruto. Kakashi holding him back. The Sound Four beating him down. The voices whispering that he was weak, useless, a shadow forever living beneath his brother’s overwhelming presence.

     Kakashi lingered in the background, silently observing. His single eye tracked Sasuke’s every movement. When Sasuke reached for a cup, his sleeve rode up just enough for the faintest glimpse of blood-stained bandages.

     Kakashi’s gaze darkened.

     He exchanged a brief glance with Naruto and Sakura, then—quietly, deliberately—slipped away.

     Naruto and Sakura noticed. They had planned this yesterday.

     When Kakashi suggested they check on Sasuke, it wasn’t just out of concern—it was out of necessity. They had all noticed the change in him. The exhaustion in his face, the distant look in his eyes, the way he barely reacted to anything anymore. It all traced back to the night at the inn with Itachi.

     Kakashi had seen this before. The way someone withdrew, let their pain fester, until it became something dangerous—something that threatened not just themselves but those around them.

     Sasuke was a risk, not just to himself but to everyone else.

     Naruto and Sakura had hesitated at first. It felt wrong to treat their friend like a ticking time bomb, but deep down, they knew Kakashi was right.

     Sasuke needed help and if he wasn’t going to ask for it then they would have to intervene—whether he liked it or not.

     The rest of the day had been spent planning. Kakashi had gone to speak with Lady Tsunade. Naruto and Sakura had discussed how best to approach Sasuke without pushing him further away. None of them liked where this was heading, but they couldn’t ignore it.

     Now, as they stood in Sasuke’s home, watching him drift further into himself, the weight of their decision settled heavily in the air.

     Something had to be done before it was too late.

     Kakashi moved like a shadow through the halls of the Uchiha estate.

     His every step was calculated, noiseless. His lone eye flicked over the interior, taking in every detail. The house was well-kept, but there was something off—a stillness beyond just the natural emptiness of an abandoned clan compound. It was as if the very walls bore the weight of something suffocating, something unseen yet overwhelming.

     Kakashi made his way upstairs, his instincts sharpening. He entered Sasuke’s room and found it slightly unkempt, but not alarmingly so. The bed was unmade, clothes were tossed onto a chair in the corner, and scrolls lay scattered across a desk. But something lingered in the air—something metallic.

     Blood.

     The scent was faint but unmistakable.

     Kakashi’s expression darkened. He followed the trail, his gaze landing on the adjacent bathroom door. His fingers barely brushed against the handle before he pushed it open.

     His breath caught.

     The bathroom was a mess of shattered glass and dried blood. Splinters of a broken mirror lay scattered across the floor, their jagged edges glistening under the dim light. Blood—so much blood—was smeared across the tiles, dried in deep crimson streaks. Dark stains marred the sink, the floor, the walls. Some of it was smeared, as if someone had desperately gripped the counter for support.

     For the first time in years, Kakashi felt something cold crawl down his spine.

     It all made sense now.

     The exhaustion. The distant look in Sasuke’s eyes. The smell of blood on his clothes. The way he flinched when touched. The way he jerked his arm away when Kakashi grabbed his wrist.

     Kakashi’s fingers clenched at his side.

     This was more than just grief. More than anger. This was self-destruction.

     Downstairs, Naruto and Sakura were doing their best to keep Sasuke occupied.

     Naruto leaned back in his chair, arms folded behind his head. “So there we were standing face to face with Orochimaru and his creepy little henchman Kabuto. Tsunade-baachan was still shaking like a leaf, but I—” Naruto grinned and jabbed a thumb at himself. “—I was ready to take ‘em both on!”

      Sakura rolled her eyes. “You were barely standing, Naruto. Jiraiya said you could barely mold chakra.”

     Naruto scoffed. “That’s not the point! The point is, when Kabuto tried to rush me, I hit him right in the stomach with my Rasengan!” He smacked his fist into his palm for emphasis. “It sent him flying! I bet he’s still feeling that one!”

     Sakura smirked. “I’m pretty sure Tsunade dealt the finishing blow.”

     “Hey, details!” Naruto waved a hand dismissively. “Besides, I was still the hero of the day.”

     Sasuke barely reacted. Naruto and Sakura both noticed.

     Sakura cleared her throat, glancing at Sasuke from across the table. “Anyway… Ino and I finally made up after the Chuunin Exams. It took a while, but we both realized how stupid our rivalry was. I mean, we threw away our entire friendship just because we both liked the same boy.” She gave a sheepish chuckle, rubbing the back of her neck. “It was childish. I was an idiot for pushing her away.”

     Naruto snorted. “No arguments there.”

     Sakura immediately smacked him on the shoulder. “Shut up, Naruto!”

     The exchange was lighthearted. Almost normal.

     But Sasuke wasn’t fooled.

     He stared down at the bowl of miso soup Sakura had given him earlier. The steam had long since dissipated. His reflection wavered in the broth, distorted, unclear.

     Something was off.

     It was in their voices—the way they spoke, the forced casualness of their words. They were trying too hard. His fingers curled into a fist as suspicion took root in his gut.

     His head snapped up.

     Kakashi was gone.

     His heartbeat spiked. His eyes flickered around the room. Where had he gone? Why would he just—

     Then it clicked.

     Sasuke’s blood ran cold.

     Without a word, he pushed back from the table and bolted.

     “Sasuke!” Sakura and Naruto shot up in alarm.

     They weren’t fast enough to stop him.

     Sasuke’s feet pounded against the wooden floor as he raced up the stairs. He knew exactly where Kakashi had gone. There was only one place that would interest him.

     His bedroom.

     No—his bathroom.

     His mind screamed at him to move faster.

     Sasuke reached the hallway, his breath shallow, his body already running on the last remnants of adrenaline. He turned the corner—

     And froze.

     Kakashi stood in front of the bathroom door, motionless.

     His back was to Sasuke, but there was no mistaking the rigid set of his shoulders, the way his head tilted downward slightly as if still processing what he had just seen.

     Sasuke’s stomach twisted violently.

     Naruto and Sakura caught up moments later, skidding to a halt just behind him.

     “What the hell—” Naruto started, but then his gaze drifted past Kakashi, into the open bathroom door.

     His voice died in his throat.

     Sakura gasped.

     The horror in their faces was unmistakable.

     Sasuke didn’t need to turn to know what they saw.

     Blood. Glass. Proof of everything he had kept hidden.

     Sakura’s hands shot up to her mouth, her eyes darting frantically between the room and Sasuke. “Sasuke… what—”

     Naruto’s fists clenched at his sides, his usual bravado gone. “What the hell is this…?”

     Kakashi turned his head slightly, his lone eye locking onto Sasuke. There was no anger in his gaze. No disappointment. Just understanding. And something else. Something Sasuke couldn’t face.

     His chest tightened. His fingers twitched at his sides, itching to do something—anything—to make this moment disappear.

     But there was nothing he could do.

     Because they knew now.

     And there was no turning back.

Chapter Text

     Sasuke’s body trembled. His mind felt like it was splitting apart, thoughts crashing into each other like a chaotic storm. The silence in the room was suffocating, the weight of his teammates’ stares pressing down on him like an unbearable force.

     They knew.

     There was no hiding it anymore. The secret he had buried deep, the pain he had swallowed, the nights spent in agony—all of it laid bare in the shattered remains of his bathroom.

     His fingers twitched. His breathing was shallow, erratic. A dull burn crept up the side of his neck, slow and insidious, spreading through his body like venom.

     The curse mark.

     He felt it reacting to his emotions, the seal writhing under his skin, feeding off his turmoil. The pain was sharp, but it barely registered beneath the surge of anger that was steadily building in his chest.

     Rage.

     Violation.

     His vision sharpened, then blurred, then sharpened again. His muscles tensed as raw fury coiled inside him, winding so tightly it felt like he would snap.

     Sakura took a step forward, her eyes wide with concern. “Sasuke—”

     No words came from his mouth.

     Kakashi moved then, subtly, carefully. He saw it—the way Sasuke’s fists clenched, the way his body trembled just slightly, the way the veins in his neck bulged as the curse mark pulsed. He knew exactly what was about to happen.

     “Sasuke,” Kakashi warned, his voice calm yet firm. “Breathe. Don’t do this.”

     But Sasuke wasn’t listening. His rage consumed everything.

     He took a step back, his hands forming a sign that all of Team Seven knew too well—Great Fireball Jutsu.

     The air grew hot in an instant.

     “Kakashi-sensei!” Sakura shouted, but there was no time.

     All three of them jumped away just as a massive sphere of fire erupted from Sasuke’s mouth, crashing directly outside the bathroom. The flames roared to life, licking hungrily at the walls, devouring the wooden floors. The heat was instant, suffocating. The crackling of burning wood filled the air.

     The Uchiha compound was going up in flames.

     And Sasuke didn’t care.

     Kakashi was the first to react, lunging at Sasuke with speed only a veteran shinobi could muster. Sasuke barely managed to leap back in time, his Sharingan spinning wildly as he dodged a strike aimed at his shoulder.

     Naruto landed nearby, his expression twisted in frustration. “Sasuke, what the hell are you doing?!”

     Sasuke didn’t answer. He flicked his wrist, sending three shuriken flying toward Naruto and Sakura.

     Sakura barely managed to deflect them with a kunai. “Sasuke, stop!”

     Kakashi reappeared in front of Sasuke in an instant, his one visible eye narrowed. “Enough.” 

     He aimed a precise strike at Sasuke’s wrist, but Sasuke twisted out of the way, retaliating with a spinning kick. Kakashi blocked it with his forearm, the force of the blow sending a sharp sting through his arm.

     Sasuke wasn’t holding back.

     His breath was ragged, his chest heaving. The curse mark’s pain was intensifying, crawling up his body, threatening to overtake him. His muscles ached, his vision wavered, but he refused to stop. He couldn’t stop.

     Because if he stopped, he would have to face them. 

     He would have to face their pity.

     With a sharp inhale, Sasuke twisted midair, his elbow shattering the glass of his bedroom window. Without hesitation, he leapt through. The night air was a shock to his overheated skin as he tumbled onto the dirt below, rolling into a crouch.

     He didn’t get far.

     Naruto, Sakura, and Kakashi were right behind him, landing in a semicircle around him.

     “Sasuke, listen to us!” Sakura pleaded.

     “You’re not acting like yourself, man!” Naruto added, desperation in his voice. “We get it—you’re pissed, you’re hurting, but this—this isn’t the way!”

     Sasuke’s breathing was heavy. The world felt distorted, his mind filled with a cacophony of whispers.

     “Weak.”

     “Pathetic.”

     “They’ll never understand.”

     “You’ll never be strong enough.”

     Sasuke’s fingers dug into his scalp as the voices pressed down on him, suffocating, overwhelming. His teeth gritted, his nails scraping against his skin.

     “Shut up,” he muttered.

     Naruto and Sakura stiffened.

     The voices only grew louder.

     “I said shut up!” Sasuke roared, his entire body trembling.

     Naruto took a step forward. “Sasuke—who the hell are you talking to?”

     Sasuke’s eyes darted up to them, his gaze wild, frantic. His chest rose and fell in uneven breaths. 

     Behind them, the Uchiha compound continued to burn.

     The whispers slithered through his skull, suffocating, taunting. The pain from the curse mark  flared to unbearable levels.

     He needed it to stop.

     His hand moved on its own.

     Before anyone could react, Sasuke yanked a kunai from his holster—

     And plunged it into his own neck, right where the curse mark sat.

     A sickening squelch filled the air.

     Sakura screamed. “Sasuke!”

     Naruto’s eyes went wide with horror. “What the hell are you doing?!”

     The pain was instant. Hot, searing agony shot through Sasuke’s body, but he pushed the blade in deeper, twisting it, trying to carve the cursed flesh out of his skin.

     Kakashi moved.

     In a blink, he was behind Sasuke, his arms locking around the boy in an iron grip. Sasuke struggled, his body thrashing violently, but Kakashi wasn’t letting go.

     “Sasuke, stop!” Kakashi’s voice was sharp, commanding. “You’re going to kill yourself!”

     Sasuke could barely hear him.

     Blood was seeping through his clothes, his head felt like it was splitting open, his vision darkened at the edges. His body was betraying him, growing weaker, losing control.

     The last thing he saw before the world went black was his teammates’ horrified expressions and the sight of his childhood home burning.

     A steady, rhythmic beeping echoed around him. Sasuke’s eyelids felt unbearably heavy as he slowly blinked himself awake, the dim fluorescent light above him casting a pale glow over the room. He didn’t need to look around to know where he was. The sterile smell of antiseptic, the distant chatter of nurses in the hall, the soft hum of machinery—he was in the hospital.

     His entire body ached.

     His arms, his shoulder, his neck—all wrapped in layers of bandages. The weight of the IV in his arm was an annoyance, but not nearly as irritating as the sluggish fog clouding his mind. His vision wavered slightly, the outlines of the room swimming before sharpening into focus.

     He inhaled.

     A mistake.

     His ribs burned with the effort, a deep ache settling in his chest. 

     “What happened?”  His thoughts were fragmented, disjointed. The last thing he remembered was—

     The fight. The curse mark. The voices.

     The kunai buried in his own neck.

     His breathing hitched slightly. He should be dead. He should be dead. But he wasn’t.

     Sasuke barely had time to process it before he heard footsteps approaching.

      A nurse entered, her eyes widening when she saw him awake. “You’re conscious!” 

     Her voice was a mixture of relief and urgency. Without wasting a second, she turned on her heel and rushed out the door, likely to inform the doctors.

     Sasuke exhaled sharply and let his head fall back against the pillow, the exhaustion creeping up on him again. His body was so heavy. His mind was so tired. He didn’t fight it when the darkness pulled him under once more.

      The next time he woke, he wasn’t alone.

      The moment his eyes cracked open, something slammed into him, wrapping around him tightly.

      “Sasuke!”

      His body tensed as Naruto practically crushed him in a suffocating hug, and not a second later, Sakura joined in, her grip just as firm, her presence just as warm. The sheer force of their embrace sent a dull pain shooting through his wounds, but neither of them seemed to care.

     Naruto’s voice was shaky. “You—You idiot! Do you have any idea how worried we were?! It’s been two weeks, Sasuke! Two whole weeks!”

     Sakura sniffled beside him, her fingers tightening around his arm. “We thought—We thought we lost you.”

     Sasuke’s body remained stiff, his brain struggling to catch up. Two weeks?

     Before he could react, a familiar voice cut through the moment.

     “Now, now, let’s not overwhelm him.”

     Naruto and Sakura both pulled back as Kakashi walked in, his usual lazy demeanor intact, but there was something in his expression, something off. Sasuke couldn’t pinpoint it.

     Kakashi’s single eye studied the three of them before flickering toward Sasuke, unreadable, calculating.

     “Naruto here kept trying to break into the hospital every day,” Kakashi mused. “I think Tsunade nearly threw him out a window.”

     Naruto scowled. “Tch. Like she could stop me.”

     Sakura huffed. “She almost did.”

     Kakashi chuckled, amused. His gaze lingered on the two for a moment, but then—he looked at Sasuke again.

     And that look—it wasn’t amused.

     Sasuke didn’t like it, because Kakashi wasn’t just looking at him. He was studying him. It was like he was searching for something beneath the surface, something Sasuke wasn’t sure he wanted him to find.

     Sasuke clenched his jaw, feeling a strange discomfort settle in his chest. He hated this. Hated the way they were all looking at him.

     But before he could dwell on it further, the door swung open.

     The air shifted instantly as Lady Tsunade entered the room. She didn’t greet them. She didn’t smile. She glared directly at Sasuke.

     For a long moment, there was nothing but silence. Then—

     “You complete and utter fool.”

     The sheer force of her words was enough to make even Naruto flinch.

     Tsunade took a slow step forward, her eyes blazing with unfiltered fury. “Do you have any idea what your little stunt put us through?! Do you even realize how close you were to dying?!”

     Sasuke didn’t flinch. He didn’t react. He just stared.

     Tsunade wasn’t having it.

     “You were bleeding out in Kakashi’s arms! You were barely clinging to life by the time he got you to me!” She took a breath, her voice lowering but still filled with fury. “It took everything I had to stabilize you, Sasuke. Everything. You were on the verge of organ failure. Your body was shutting down on itself. Do you even care? Do you even realize what you did?!”

     Still, Sasuke said nothing.

     Tsunade inhaled sharply. “And if that wasn’t bad enough, I had to hear from your team—” Her eyes flicked to Naruto, Sakura, and Kakashi, her voice laced with frustration. “—about what you’ve been doing to yourself for the past two months.”

     Sakura bit her lip, looking down. Naruto clenched his fists. Kakashi stood silently, watching.

     Tsunade’s gaze snapped back to Sasuke, her fingers twitching at her sides. “Your little self-destructive obsession with getting stronger? It nearly killed you, Sasuke. And if this is what you’re going to do with your life then I am not going to let it happen again.”

     She leaned forward, her voice dropping lower.

     “You’re off the roster.”

     Sasuke’s eyes snapped wide open.

     “Permanently.”

     The silence that followed was deafening.

     For the first time since Tsunade had entered the room, Sasuke’s expression shifted. It was brief, a flicker of raw shock, but it was there.

     “You’re done,” Tsunade continued, unfazed by the widening of his eyes. “No more missions. No more training. You are under strict observation until further notice. And if you so much as try to pull another stunt like this, I’ll have you confined to the hospital indefinitely.”

     Sasuke’s hands clenched into tight fists.

     No.

     No, no, no, no.

     This couldn’t be happening.

     This—this was taking away everything.

     His only path to getting stronger. His only way to reach Itachi.

     Gone.

     It was like something inside him snapped.

     Sasuke wanted to yell. He wanted to protest. He wanted to fight back.

     But when he opened his mouth—

     No words came out.

     His throat tightened, his voice refused to work.

     Tsunade exhaled, rubbing her temples. Her anger was still there, but there was something else in her face now—exhaustion.

      “You’re lucky, Sasuke,” she murmured, eyes unreadable. “Luckier than you deserve.”

     With that, she turned on her heel, walking toward the door.

     “You’ll be staying here for a while,” she said without looking back. “Get used to it.”

     And then—she was gone.

     The room was silent.

     Sasuke’s hands trembled against the sheets.

     His head was spinning, his body screaming, but all he could focus on was—

     Everything is gone.

     His path. His goal. His revenge.

     Gone.

     Time blurred.

     Days bled into nights, the sun rising and setting with no meaning. The sterile white walls of the hospital room remained unchanged. The steady beeping of the heart monitor was his only constant companion, a rhythmic reminder that he was still alive—though why, Sasuke didn’t know.

     What was the point?

     His body ached, but it wasn’t pain. Pain was something he welcomed, something he could use. This was different. This was numbness—a cold, heavy emptiness that settled deep in his bones.

     Nurses came and went, checking his vitals, changing his bandages. He never acknowledged them.

     Visitors came too.

     Naruto, Sakura, Kakashi, Ino.

     They spoke to him. They told him about missions, about the village, about how things were moving forward without him.

     He barely listened.

     Their voices were distant, muffled like they were speaking to him from behind a thick sheet of glass. He didn’t care. Nothing they said mattered. Nothing mattered anymore.

     The only thing that remained constant were the voices. They whispered to him when the room was silent, creeping into his thoughts, twisting around his mind like snakes.

     “Weak.”

     “Pathetic.”

     “Useless.”

     “You failed.”

     He knew.

     He knew.

     He knew.

     Sasuke lay in the bed, staring at the ceiling, waiting for time to pass, waiting for something to matter again.

     It was near the end of the week when Naruto came in again. Like always, he burst into the room, loud, obnoxious, filling the silence with too much energy.

     “Yo, Sasuke!” Naruto grinned, plopping down into the chair beside the bed. “You wouldn’t believe the crap that’s been happening in the village lately. This one old lady tried to chase me out of her store for ‘causing a ruckus,’ but all I did was trip over some melons!” He laughed, rubbing the back of his head. “You should’ve seen it, man. It was chaos.”

     Sasuke didn’t react.

     Naruto continued, undeterred.

     “Sakura-chan’s been busy with some new training,” he went on. “And Kakashi-sensei? He’s still his same old lazy self, reading his stupid books instead of teaching us cool jutsu. Can you believe that?”

     Silence.

     Naruto’s grin faltered for just a second. He shifted in his seat, drumming his fingers on his knee.

     The room felt heavier than normal.

     He was nervous.

     Finally, after a few moments, Naruto’s eyes locked onto Sasuke’s.

     “…I gotta tell you something,” he said, voice quieter now.

     Sasuke’s gaze remained empty.

     Naruto hesitated before taking a deep breath. “I’m gonna be leaving for a while.”

     Silence.

     Naruto clenched his fists. “Ero-sennin’s taking me on a training trip—a long one. A couple of years, probably.” He swallowed. “I gotta get stronger. The Akatsuki’s after me, and if I’m not ready, I won’t stand a chance against them.”

     Still, Sasuke didn’t react.

     Naruto’s brows furrowed. “Look, I—I don’t want you to think I’m trying to one-up you or anything.” His voice was almost uncertain. “It’s not like that, okay? I just… I need to do this.”

     Nothing.

     Naruto watched Sasuke, searching for something— anything.

     But Sasuke just sat there, face blank, eyes dull.

     He wasn’t there.

     Naruto’s hands clenched against his knees.

     “…I guess I won’t be seeing you for a while then,” Naruto muttered.

     No response.

     Naruto stood up, lingering for a moment like he was waiting for Sasuke to say something—anything.

     But Sasuke just stared.

     Naruto exhaled sharply, looking away. “…See ya, Sasuke.”

     And then, he left.

     For the last time.

     It was a few days later when Sakura came. Unlike Naruto, she entered quietly, stepping into the room with measured steps.

     “Hey, Sasuke-kun,” she greeted softly, closing the door behind her.

     Sasuke didn’t respond.

     She didn’t let that deter her.

     She approached the bed, pulling a chair close before sitting down. For a moment, she simply looked at him.

     He looked so different.

     His skin was paler than usual, his hair messier, his eyes—his eyes.

     They were empty.

     Her throat tightened, but she forced a smile. 

     “I wanted to tell you something,” she said, voice steady. “Lady Tsunade offered to train me in medical ninjutsu.”

     Silence.

     Sakura inhaled, fingers curling in her lap. “I accepted.”

     Still, nothing.

     Sakura bit her lip before continuing, “I don’t want to be useless anymore.” Her voice was firmer now, resolute. “I don’t want to stand on the sidelines while everyone else fights. I don’t want to be the weak one on the team. I want to be stronger.”

     She exhaled.

     “I know I wasn’t able to stop Orochimaru from cursing you,” she murmured. “I know I wasn’t strong enough to fight back against the Sound ninjas. And I know I—I couldn’t do anything to help you when you needed me the most.” Her fingers curled tighter. “But that’s going to change. I swear it. I won’t let myself be weak anymore. Not for myself. Not for you.”

     Sasuke still didn’t react.

     Sakura felt her throat tighten again, but she kept her composure. She smiled—soft, sad.

     “I’ll find a way to help you, Sasuke-kun,” she said quietly. “I’ll make sure Lady Tsunade lets you back on Team Seven. I promise.”

     Sasuke just lay there.

     Expression blank.

     Eyes lifeless.

     Sakura’s smile wavered slightly before she pushed herself to her feet. She stood there for a second, looking at him. Then, softly—

     “…Goodbye, Sasuke-kun.”

     She turned and left.

     The door clicked shut behind her and Sasuke Was Alone Again.

     The silence stretched on.

     Sasuke remained in bed, staring at the ceiling, motionless.

     Naruto was gone.

     Sakura was gone.

     His purpose was gone.

     Nothing mattered.

     Nothing had ever mattered.

     And now?

     Now, he had nothing left.

Chapter Text

     Sasuke knew now—he was never going home. Not to the Uchiha compound, not to Team Seven, not to anything that once resembled his old life.

      The hospital was his new home, its sterile white walls closing in on him like a cage. The days repeated, each one identical to the last, stretching endlessly into nothingness.

      Wake up. Eat. Attend counseling. Say nothing. Return to his room. Sleep. Then it all began again.

     The counseling sessions were useless. They asked him the same questions over and over.

     “How are you feeling today, Sasuke?”

     “Do you want to talk about what happened?”

     “You’re not alone, you know.”

     He never answered.

     They scribbled in their little notebooks, whispered about him when they thought he wasn’t listening. No progress. No change. Unresponsive.

     They weren’t wrong.

     Days passed. Weeks passed. Months passed.

     And nothing changed.

     Sasuke sat on the edge of his bed, shoulders slouched, eyes half-lidded. His hair had grown longer. Unkempt, uneven, the dark strands fell forward, hiding most of his face.

     He didn’t mind.

     At least now, when he looked at his reflection, he didn’t see Itachi’s face staring back at him.

     He slowly pushed himself off the bed, his limbs heavy from disuse. His room was small. The same four walls, the same dull light overhead, the same untouched pile of get-well-soon cards stacked along the windowsill.

     He walked toward the window.

     Outside, the village stretched before him, rooftops bathed in the golden light of the setting sun. People moved through the streets, laughing, talking, living.

     Life had moved on without him.

     And he?

     He remained.

     Trapped. Stagnant. Forgotten.

     He pressed his forehead against the cool glass, watching as the people below continued their lives, completely unaware of the broken boy trapped in the hospital above them.

     He should have felt something about that.

     He didn’t.

     One day, something changed. Sasuke was in another therapy session, sitting across from a man who had long since given up on receiving real answers from him.

     The counselor spoke, his voice patient, measured. “Sasuke, you can’t move forward if you keep yourself locked away in the past.”

     Sasuke didn’t react. The voices in his head stirred.

     “Move forward?”

     “What future do you have?”

     “You will never be as strong as him.”

     “You are not a prodigy.”

     “You are not even much of an Uchiha.”

     His fingers twitched.

     The counselor sighed, rubbing his temples. “You’re not alone, Sasuke.”

     He almost laughed at that.

     Alone? He had never been less alone.

     The voices never left him. They whispered their truths, coiling around his thoughts, suffocating him in quiet, bitter reality.

     “You are weak.”

     “You have no family.”

     “You have nothing left.”

     The session ended. The usual escort led him back to his hospital room, locking the door behind him. Sasuke stood in the center of the room for a long moment. Then, slowly, he walked to the bathroom.

     He flicked the light on. He looked at himself in the mirror.

     For the first time in months, he truly looked.

     And for once—he didn’t see Itachi. He didn’t see an avenger. He didn’t see a genius, a prodigy, a true Uchiha.

     He saw a boy.

     A boy with no family. No name to live up to. No strength. No purpose.

     He was nothing.

     Just himself.

     Just Sasuke.

     And what was Sasuke without his clan? Without revenge? Without the power to claim vengeance?

     Nothing.

     The voices whispered.

     “Then become something else.”

     Sasuke stepped back from the mirror, his breath shallow, his pulse steady.

     The voices coiled around his thoughts like smoke.

     “Leave it all behind.”

     “You don’t need them.”

     “You are nothing here. You can be anything out there.”

     For the first time, Sasuke truly listened.

     A life where he was no longer an Uchiha. 

     A life where he was no longer Sasuke Uchiha.

     He could be someone new. Someone unshackled.

     No expectations. No burdens. No haunted legacy to carry.

     He would leave Konoha behind.

     He would not look back.

      His plan was simple—deceptively so. There were downsides, many of them.

     No supplies. No money. No safety.

     The risk of being caught? High.

     The risk of dying out there, beyond the walls of the village? Even higher.

      But did that matter?

      No.

     Sasuke had already lost the will to live. His life, as it was now, was not a life worth living. If he died out there, so be it. At least it would be on his terms.

     For the next three weeks, Sasuke prepared. He ate more, forcing himself to swallow even when his appetite rebelled against him. He walked around his room more, stretched, let his muscles regain their strength. He even engaged in small talk with the nurses, responding to their pleasantries with simple nods, hums, the occasional word.

     A flicker of something in their eyes told him they were hopeful, that they thought he was getting better, that he was healing.

     Fools. 

     It was all a farce.

     A distraction.

     A long con to lower their guard.

     And it worked.

     Three weeks later, Sasuke was ready.

     It was night. The hospital was silent.

     Sasuke formed a single clone in his bed, tucking it under the sheets. Then, he transformed into one of the nurses he had observed over the past few weeks, a face no one would question at this hour.

      Suppressing his chakra until it was indistinguishable from a civilian, he stepped into the dimly lit hallway and walked, his pace measured, his heartbeat even.

     Not a single person looked his way.

      He stepped outside, feeling the cool night air against his skin.

      Still, no one stopped him.

      He kept walking, moving casually toward an empty alleyway. Once inside, he dropped the transformation for only a second, then cloaked himself in another different henge—one that no one would recognize.

   He stepped back out and he walked.

   Through the village. Past the watchful eyes of Konoha’s shinobi, who were too few in number, too stretched thin from the damage of the invasion to notice a lone, unassuming figure slipping through the cracks.

     Thank you, Orochimaru.

     Thank you, Sunagakure.

     Without them, his escape would have been far more difficult.

     The Forest of Death loomed in the distance, its iron fence standing tall, its reputation enough to ward off most villagers.

     Sasuke didn’t hesitate.

     He leapt over the fence, landing soundlessly on the other side. Darkness swallowed him whole as he ran.

     The village’s outer wall was next. Reaching it, he pressed chakra to his feet, running up its surface with practiced ease.

     At the peak, he didn’t stop.

     He jumped and landed—outside.

     Beyond Konoha’s borders.

     Beyond its control.

     Beyond its cage.

     Sasuke stood there for a long moment, his breath coming fast, his heart pounding. Then it hit him.

     He was free.

     The realization spread through his chest like fire. His lips twitched. Then he laughed.

     Laughed like he hadn’t in years.

     Laughed so hard his lungs burned, his ribs ached.

     The voices whispered.

     “Run.”

     “Go.”

     “Don’t stop.”

     And Sasuke obeyed.

     He ran.

     And he never looked back.

Chapter Text

     Morning arrived in Konoha, and with it, an eerie sense of unease. Nurses entered Sasuke’s hospital room to check on him, expecting the same silent, empty-eyed boy they had been tending to for months. Instead they found a clone that vanished upon touch.

     Alarm bells rang through the hospital.

     Word reached Tsunade within the hour. Her reaction was immediate—urgent. Orders were given. Konoha’s best trackers were summoned, among them was Kakashi.

      Kakashi wasted no time. Summoning his ninken, he knelt beside Pakkun.

     “Find his scent.”

     The dogs sniffed the sheets, the walls, the hospital air—then took off. Kakashi and the others followed as the scent trail wove through the village. Through hallways. Out the front doors. Down the streets. The scent led them straight to the Forest of Death. Then beyond it.

      They ran.

      Through the woods, over the fences, tracking the scent until it ended—abruptly—at the river’s edge.

     Kakashi’s eyes widened. The other shinobi stiffened. The trail was gone. The rushing river had swallowed everything.

      There was only one reason Sasuke would go this far. Only one man waiting at the end of this road.

      “Orochimaru.”

     A heavy silence fell over the group. No one spoke. They didn’t have to. They all knew—Sasuke had run away for power.

     For days, Sasuke ran. His bare feet, once soft from months of confinement, were now torn and raw, coated in dirt, blood, and open blisters. His body screamed for rest, for reprieve, but he did not stop. He ignored the pain, ignored the cold, ignored the gnawing hunger that twisted his gut. Every step away from Konoha was a step toward his own future.

     Finally, on the fourth day, a small village appeared in the distance. Relief did not come.

     He was drenched—still soaked from swimming through the river. His thin hospital gown clung to his body, offering no warmth, no comfort.

      But none of that mattered.

     Sasuke knew he only had a few hours before Konoha picked up his trail.

     And so, he struck.

     Under the cover of darkness, Sasuke slipped into the village. Moving like a shadow between alleyways, he kept his chakra suppressed, his movements calculated.

     His first priority? Clothes.

     A small shop on the outskirts—easy to break into. Sasuke picked the lock with a stolen kunai, slipped inside, and took whatever fit.

     A simple black shirt. Dark pants. A pair of sturdy sandals.

     His hospital gown was discarded without hesitation.

     Next? Food.

     A bakery, left unguarded. He stole bread, rice, dried meats—enough to last him a week.

     Then? Money.

     A merchant’s stall, coin pouch left unattended. He took it.

     And with that, he had everything he needed.

     But it was not enough.

     Something in him hesitated.

     Something in him whispered—this was wrong. This was not the way he was raised.

     Stealing? Sasuke Uchiha, a thief?

     But survival was more important than morals and he had already discarded everything else.

     So Sasuke crushed the last remnants of his conscience beneath his heel.

     Because he would not die here.

     Not in a village that wasn’t his home.

     Not in a place that didn’t know his name.

     Not as a prisoner of Konoha.

     Sasuke disappeared into the night, vanishing from the village as quickly as he came.

     Never once looking back.

     The sun hung high in the sky, casting golden light over the road ahead. Jiraiya and Naruto had been traveling for weeks now, moving from town to town, training in between missions.

     They had stopped at a small village to rest when a hawk arrived. Jiraiya took the message scroll, his sharp eyes scanning the contents. The moment he read the words, his expression hardened.

     Naruto, noticing the shift, frowned. “Hey, Ero-Sennin, what is it?”

     Jiraiya sighed, rolling up the scroll before looking at Naruto. “It’s about Sasuke.”

     Naruto froze.

    Jiraiya didn’t need to say anything else. The look in his eyes was enough.

     Sasuke was gone.

     The anger came first.

     “That bastard—” Naruto clenched his fists, shaking with rage. “He—he just left?!”

     Disappointment followed quickly after.

     “Why? Why would he—” His voice cracked. “He—he didn’t even say anything. He just—”

     Memories flashed in his mind. Sasuke, lying in his hospital bed. Expressionless. Emotionless.

     He hadn’t shown anything.

     No signs. No hints. Nothing.

     Naruto had sat beside him for hours, talking, begging for a reaction, for something—anything—but Sasuke had just stared at him.

     Empty.

     And now he was gone.

     Naruto gritted his teeth. His nails bit into his palms as he clenched his fists harder.

     “Fine.”

     He took a shaky breath, rage and frustration boiling inside him.

     “Then I’ll get strong enough to bring him back.”

     He looked up at Jiraiya, determination burning in his eyes.

     “No matter what it takes.”

     Tsunade’s office was quiet. Too quiet.

     Sakura stood before the Hokage, her heart pounding.

     “Say that again.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

     Tsunade folded her hands together. Her gaze was sharp. Serious.

     “Sasuke has left the village.”

     Sakura’s world stopped.

     “No—” She shook her head. “That can’t be right. He—he would’ve said something—he would’ve—”

     “He didn’t,” Kakashi’s voice cut in. He stood off to the side, arms crossed. “The trackers followed his trail. He was already gone before anyone realized.”

     Sakura’s knees almost buckled. Her breath hitched.

     “But—” she whispered, “he never showed any signs. He never—he never said he was going to leave for Orochimaru!”

     Tsunade’s voice was grim. “Sasuke is a very good manipulator.”

     Sakura’s stomach twisted.

     She shook her head again. “No. No, that’s not true. Sasuke isn’t like that!”

     “Then why did he leave?”

     Sakura opened her mouth. No words came out.

     Her hands trembled.

     Tears burned at the edges of her vision, but she refused to let them fall.

     “I won’t let this happen.” Her voice was quiet but firm. “I won’t let him just leave like this. Like his bonds never existed.”

     Her fingers curled into fists.

     “I’ll bring him back.”

     She looked up, fire burning in her emerald eyes. “No matter what.”

     Tsunade smirked.

     “Good.”

     The Hokage leaned back in her chair. “Then I’ll make sure you uphold that promise.”

     Sasuke stood at the ocean’s edge. The waves stretched endlessly before him, deep and dark, reflecting the storm clouds on the horizon. He adjusted the supplies on his back—the ones he had stolen from the last village.

     The voices whispered.

     “Escape.”

     “Keep running.”

     Sasuke took a breath.

     This was it. No turning back.

     There was just one problem.

     “I’ve never been taught how to walk on water.”

     Tch. Tree-walking had been easy. But water-walking? He’d never grasped the technique properly.

      Sasuke’s jaw tightened. “It’s all just chakra control.”

     He could figure it out. He had to.

     Taking a deep breath, Sasuke stepped onto the water.

     And immediately sank.

     Cold water swallowed him whole, salt burning his throat as he struggled back to the surface. Coughing, he dragged himself back onto the shore.

     Again.

     He focused, molding chakra through his feet. He took a step.

     Sank again.

     This process repeated for hours.

     Fall. Get up. Try again.

     Over and over, until finally—he stood.

     The water rippled beneath him, but he did not fall.

     Sasuke took another step. Then another.

     Then he ran. Faster and faster, sprinting across the waves.

     He didn’t care about the risks.

     He didn’t care if he collapsed from exhaustion.

     He didn’t care if he died trying.

     He just wanted to run.

     The hours dragged on. His legs ached. His chakra burned.

     Then, up ahead—a storm. The wind howled. The sky darkened. The waves rose.

     Sasuke’s footing slipped.

     The moment of hesitation cost him.

     The next wave crashed into him.

     Sasuke fell.

     The world flipped.

     Water surrounded him, dragged him under. Choking. Freezing. Crushing.

    He fought.

    But exhaustion was already winning.

    His limbs felt heavy.

    The ocean pulled him down.

    His vision darkened.

    The last thing he heard before losing consciousness—

     The voices laughing.

     Then—

     Blackness.

     A violent cough tore through Sasuke’s throat as he sputtered awake, water spilling from his mouth. His body heaved, lungs burning as he gasped for air. The taste of salt clung to his tongue. His head pounded. His body ached.

     Slowly, he pushed himself up, his hands sinking into wet sand.

     Where…?

     His vision was blurred, the world swaying as he fought to steady himself. His clothes were drenched, heavy with seawater. His bare feet dug into the shore as waves lapped gently at his ankles, as if the same sea that had tried to drown him now sought to comfort him.

      He rubbed his head, wincing. “How long was I out?”

      The sky above was dull and gray, clouds drifting lazily. Judging by the sun’s position, it was well into the afternoon.

      Taking a deep breath, Sasuke looked around. What he saw made his blood run cold.

     Beyond the shoreline, a ghost town stretched before him. Crumbling buildings, stone walls covered in moss, and shattered structures—all half-swallowed by nature. The air was still, heavy with the scent of damp earth and decay.

      Something about this place felt… wrong.

      Sasuke stood up, shaking the numbness from his limbs. He needed to know where he had ended up.

     His feet carried him forward, through streets that had long since been abandoned. His hands trailed along stone walls, the texture rough, weathered. Some of the buildings had gaping holes where explosions had likely torn through them. Others looked like they had been burned to the ground.

     There had been a war here, that much was obvious. Sasuke wasn’t surprised. Villages fell all the time. But what caught his attention most were the symbols.

     A spiral pattern.

     It was everywhere. Carved into doorways, painted onto broken walls, stitched onto the tattered remains of banners that hung from what little remained of a great hall.

     Sasuke’s brows furrowed. Something about it was familiar.

     And then it hit him.

     “No way.”

     His eyes widened.

     This place… was Uzushio.

     His heart pounded as realization set in. The Village Hidden in Whirlpools. The legendary home of the Uzumaki Clan.

     A place that was supposed to be gone.

     He had read about it briefly in the Academy, but they had never covered the full story—only that Uzushio had been destroyed during the war, wiped off the map.

     Yet… here he was. The remains of Uzushio lay before him, forgotten and untouched for decades. He traced his fingers along a half-buried emblem, the Uzumaki clan crest carved into stone.

     “How much history is buried here?”

     For the first time in a long time, awe filled him.

     The Uzumaki clan had been one of the strongest. Their sealing techniques were unmatched. And yet, despite all their power, they had been eradicated.

     How?

     Sasuke narrowed his eyes. What kind of secrets did this village hold?

     He wasn’t sure why, but he felt drawn to this place. Something about it called to him.

     Sasuke ventured deeper into the ruined village, stepping over broken debris and navigating through overgrown paths. The wind howled through the hollow streets, whistling between collapsed buildings like a distant mourning cry.

     He passed what looked like an old training ground. Rusted kunai and shuriken littered the dirt, long abandoned. Training dummies stood half-destroyed, some of them marked with intricate sealing formulas that had long since faded.

     Further ahead, he stumbled upon a ruined temple. The great doors had collapsed inward, leaving the entrance open. Sasuke stepped inside.

     The air was thick with dust, the scent of old parchment and rotting wood filling his nose. Scrolls lay scattered across the ground, some torn, some preserved.

     He bent down, picking one up. The writing was in an ancient script, but some parts were legible.

     “Fūinjutsu…”

     His grip tightened.

     The Uzumaki were masters of sealing techniques. If he could learn even a fraction of their knowledge…

     His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a lone whisper. Sasuke’s breath hitched. He turned sharply, eyes scanning the darkness of the temple.

     Nothing.

     And yet… he could feel it.

     Something was here.

     Something was watching.

     He wasn’t alone.

     The village of Uzushio may have been  abandoned…

     But its ghosts remained.

     Sasuke moved cautiously through the ruined village, searching for a structure that was still intact. Most of the buildings were crumbling, roofs caved in, walls barely standing. But after a while, he finally came across a sturdier-looking house near the outskirts. 

     It was old, weathered, and covered in vines, but the walls still held, and the roof hadn’t collapsed. That was good enough. Sasuke pushed the door open, stepping inside.

     The air was stale, thick with dust. Old furniture was strewn about, and shattered glass littered the floor from a window long broken. The remnants of a once-lived-in home.

     Sasuke ignored it all. He had survived worse conditions.

     Setting his stolen supplies down, he pulled out a flint and steel he had managed to swipe from the last village. He gathered some broken wood from the furniture, piling it into a makeshift fireplace.

     A few minutes later, a small fire crackled, filling the room with warmth. Sasuke peeled off his soaked clothes, shivering slightly as the cold air hit his skin. He draped the clothing over a wire near the fire to dry before slipping on some new clothes. They were a bit loose, but they would do for now.

     Sitting down near the fire, Sasuke rummaged through the bag of food he had taken. Dried meat, bread, some fruit—nothing special, but enough to keep him going.

     He took a bite.

     As soon as the food hit his stomach, pain shot through his gut. A sharp, cramping sensation twisted inside him, his insides revolting. He hadn’t realized how long it had been since he had last eaten properly. His body was rejecting the sudden intake of food.

     “Tch—damn it.”

    His fingers clenched into fists as a wave of nausea slammed into him.

     The voices in his head snickered.

     “Look at you. Weak.”

     “Pathetic.”

     “Can’t even eat without falling apart.”

     Sasuke growled under his breath, forcing himself to his feet. He stumbled outside, breathing heavily.

     The cold night air did little to help. His stomach twisted violently. He barely made it a few feet from the house before he doubled over, vomiting onto the dirt.

     The voices only laughed harder.

     “Some shinobi you are.”

     “Maybe you should’ve just drowned in that ocean.”

     Sasuke wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his jaw clenched. He took a deep, shaky breath and turned back toward the house, ignoring them.

     He would get stronger. He would survive.

     And he would make sure he never felt this weak again.

     Sasuke woke to the faint sound of the wind whistling through the cracks in the walls. The fire had long since died, leaving behind only cold embers. His clothes were dry now, though still a little stiff from the heat.

     His body ached, but he forced himself up. It was time to explore more of the village.

     Sasuke spent the next few hours navigating the ruins, weaving through broken streets, abandoned houses, and shattered monuments. The village was massive, far larger than he had expected.

     And then—he found something intact.

     His steps came to an abrupt halt.

     A building stood before him. Unlike the others, this one had survived. Its walls were untouched, its structure still strong.

     Sasuke’s eyes widened. “A library?”

     The doors were slightly ajar. The symbol of Uzushio was carved into the arch above the entrance.

     How had this place survived the fall of Uzushio?

     Cautiously, Sasuke stepped inside. A faint pulse of chakra rippled through the air as he crossed the threshold. For a brief moment, the hairs on his arms stood on end and then the energy dispersed.

     A barrier.

     “A security measure?”

     Sasuke narrowed his eyes. It must have been some kind of preservation seal. A last-ditch effort to protect the knowledge within.

      “Interesting.”

     He took another step forward.

     The inside of the library was remarkably well-preserved. Rows of bookshelves lined the walls, filled with scrolls, tomes, and ancient texts. Some had fallen over, others were covered in dust, but they were intact.

     Sasuke’s heartbeat quickened. This place held knowledge.

     He ran his fingers along the spines of the books, his sharp eyes scanning the titles. Many were written in old scripts, some barely legible, but a few were in a language he could understand.

     Then—one book caught his attention.

     It was smaller than the others, its cover worn, yet sturdy. The title was written in bold kanji.

     “Introduction to Fūinjutsu.”

     Sasuke’s breath hitched.

     A book on sealing techniques.

     He immediately sat down, flipping the book open. The pages were filled with diagrams, explanations, and complex formulas. It started with the basics—the core principles of sealing, the different types of fūinjutsu, and their applications.

     Sasuke absorbed the information instantly. “So… seals are all about balance and precision…”

     Unlike standard ninjutsu, fūinjutsu wasn’t reliant on raw chakra output. It was an art of control, calculation, and understanding patterns.

     It required sharp intellect.

     “This… might be perfect for me.”

     He flipped through the pages, memorizing everything. The book covered chakra storage seals, containment seals, explosive tags, and even healing seals.

     It was… fascinating.

     And more importantly—

     It was a power that Konoha had never taught him.

     A power that even Itachi might not know.

     For the first time in a long while… Sasuke smirked.

     If he could master this…

     If he could reclaim the knowledge of the Uzumaki…

     Then maybe—just maybe—

     He wouldn’t be weak anymore.

     Sasuke sat cross-legged on the wooden floor of the abandoned library, scrolls and books spread around him. His brows furrowed in frustration as he stared at the inked symbols before him.

     “Again.”

    He picked up his brush, dipped it in the ink, and carefully began recreating the sealing formula he had been trying to master. His strokes were slow, deliberate. Every line needed to be precise. Every symbol needed to be perfect.

     But as soon as he activated the seal—

    A small pop sounded, and the ink smeared uselessly across the paper.

     “Tch—!”

     Sasuke gritted his teeth and shoved the ruined paper aside.

     This had been happening for weeks. No matter how many times he studied the formulas, no matter how perfectly he thought he wrote the symbols, the seals never worked.

     “Is it because I’m not an Uzumaki?”

     The thought was bitter.

     The Uzumaki Clan was renowned for their natural talent in fūinjutsu. Their chakra was said to be uniquely suited for it. But Sasuke?

     He was an Uchiha.

     “What if I’ll never be able to master it? What if this is a complete waste of time?”

     The voices in his head chuckled cruelly.

     “You were never meant for this.”

     “You’re chasing power that doesn’t belong to you.”

     Sasuke closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

     He refused to accept that.

     If the Uzumaki could master fūinjutsu, so could he.

     “I just need to approach it differently.”

     So he adjusted.

     Instead of repeating the same mistakes, he analyzed them. He dissected every failed seal, comparing them to the working examples in the books. He adjusted his chakra flow, experimented with different ink consistencies, and even changed his posture.

    It took weeks of failures.

    But then—one evening, as the sun dipped beneath the ocean’s horizon, Sasuke wrote out a simple storage seal, carefully molded his chakra into it, and—

     The ink flashed.

     The air hummed.

     And then—his kunai disappeared into the seal.

     Sasuke stared.

     He activated the seal again, and the kunai reappeared in his palm. For the first time in a long while—Sasuke smiled.

     He had done it.

     Fūinjutsu wasn’t Sasuke’s only challenge.

     His food supply was running dangerously low.

     He had managed to scavenge some preserved goods from the village ruins, but they wouldn’t last forever. If he wanted to survive, he needed to find a steady source of food.

     That meant fishing.

     The problem?

     He had no fishing rod. No proper supplies. Nothing.

     Sasuke spent days trying to catch fish with his bare hands. He would crouch by the shallow water, eyes locked on the silvery bodies flickering beneath the surface, and—

     They always got away.

     He tried sharpening a stick into a spear, but his aim wasn’t perfect and the fish were too fast.

     He nearly screamed in frustration.

     “There has to be a better way.”

     Then—he remembered the ninja wire he had found in an abandoned weapons shop.

     “A net.”

     Using what little resources he had, Sasuke spent the next several days weaving a crude fishing net from the wire. It was sloppy. It was uneven. But if it worked, it didn’t matter.

     The first few attempts failed miserably.

     The net had holes. The fish escaped. Sasuke cursed his luck.

     But he kept refining it.

     And then—one morning, as he pulled the net from the water, he saw it.

     A single fish.

     It flopped weakly in the net, scales glinting in the sunlight.

     Sasuke exhaled, staring down at it.

     It wasn’t much.

     But it was his victory.

     Sasuke had lost track of how long he had been on the island.

     Days? Weeks? Months?

     It didn’t matter.

     He was never bored.

     His days were spent training, exploring, surviving. Some days he focused on fūinjutsu, painstakingly working through complex formulas. Other days he scavenged the ruins, looking for anything of value. And when he wasn’t doing either, he simply rested.

     It was a strange peace.

     One afternoon, while exploring a half-intact building, Sasuke caught sight of something he hadn’t seen in ages.

     A mirror.

     He hesitated before stepping closer.

     The glass was cracked, dirty. But when he looked into it—

     He barely recognized himself.

     His hair had grown significantly longer, almost to his shoulders. His bangs partially covered his face. His cheeks were sharper, his skin slightly tanned from the time spent outdoors.

     Sasuke frowned.

     Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a thin strip of cloth and tied his hair back into a low ponytail.

     For a moment, he simply stared at his reflection.

     His eyes darkened.

     With his hair like this, he looked—

     Too much like Itachi.

     Something in him snapped.

     His Sharingan flared to life, spinning violently in his eyes.

     “No.”

     Sasuke turned away from the mirror, shoving down the memories before they surfaced. He walked out of the building, refusing to let the past drag him down again.

    The voices still lingered.

     But they were quieter than before.

     Because for the first time in a long while—Sasuke wasn’t just waiting to get stronger.

     He was getting stronger.

     Sasuke sat cross-legged on the wooden floor of the ruined Uzushio library, the glow of the flickering candle beside him casting long shadows against the crumbling walls. His ink-stained fingers traced the faded storage seal he had successfully replicated weeks ago.

     “If I can store weapons, food, and supplies in a scroll… why not on my own body?”

     It was an idea born from both necessity and rebellion.

    Sasuke had no clan name to uphold. No village to return to.

     He wasn’t an Uchiha anymore. His clothes lacked the crest. His mind lacked the burden of pride.

     The voices in his head—once filled with venomous whispers of failure—were now silent, watching, waiting.

     He rolled up his sleeves, revealing the littering of scars along his inner forearms.

     “Tch.”

     His fingertips ghosted over them.

     The months of confinement in Konoha’s hospital had been the lowest point of his life. The agony, the helplessness, the isolation. Those scars were reminders of how broken he had been.

     But that wasn’t who he was anymore.

     “I don’t have to worry about the pressures of my old life anymore.”

     Sasuke picked up his paintbrush and dipped it into the ink. His hands were steady, his mind clear.

     The tip of the brush pressed against his bare skin.

     And he got to work.

     He carefully replicated the storage seal formula, adjusting its design to curve along the natural shape of his arm. He layered the symbols, interweaving chakra flow paths that would allow him to store objects directly within his body.

     It was a slow, meticulous process.

     One mistake and the seal would be useless.

     Hours passed. The candle burned low. 

     And finally—Sasuke activated the seal.

     There was a flash of chakra. A faint humming vibration.

     And then—it worked.

     For the first time, Sasuke felt truly accomplished.

     The time had come.

     Sasuke stood at the shore of Uzushio’s ruins, a pack slung over his shoulders.

     He had gathered enough food and supplies to last him until he found land. The clothes he wore were simple, functional. The Uzumaki crest that had once been stitched onto them had been meticulously removed.

     He pulled out a map he had found in the ruins, its paper aged and fragile. His dark eyes scanned the coastline, tracing the path across the ocean.

     “Kirigakure.”

     It was as good a destination as any.

     With one last glance at the forgotten ruins of Uzushio, Sasuke stepped forward. His foot met the water. Chakra flowed instinctively.

     And he ran.

     Hours passed.

     The vast ocean stretched endlessly behind him, and the distant shoreline of the Land of Water finally came into view.

     But Sasuke was exhausted. His chakra reserves were dangerously low, his breath coming in ragged pants. Every step felt like his legs were weighed down by iron.

     The moment his foot hit solid ground, he staggered.

     He had made it, but he wouldn’t be able to go any further tonight.

     Sasuke pushed forward, disappearing into the dense foliage of the nearby forest. He needed to find shelter.

    After some searching, he stumbled upon a small, secluded clearing—perfect for a temporary camp. He rolled up his sleeve, revealing the new storage seal on his arm.

     With a quick activation, a small scroll appeared in his palm. He unsealed a tent and a few survival tools. Once the shelter was set up, he started on a small fire, the warmth immediately cutting through the cool night air.

     Sasuke unsealed a fish he had caught days before, carefully skewering it over the flames.

     The smell of roasting meat filled the air.

     For the first time in a long while, Sasuke felt—

     At peace.

Chapter Text

     Sasuke woke up to the sharp sting of rope digging into his wrists. His senses returned sluggishly, the faint scent of damp stone and saltwater filling his nose. His body ached, a dull throbbing in his side from where he must have been struck. Not amused, he let his eyes adjust to the dimly lit room.

     A makeshift dungeon.

     How quaint.

     The last thing he remembered was arriving at the shoreline, barely able to stand after pushing his chakra to the limit. Then, the ambush. Kiri shinobi—fast, efficient. His exhaustion made resisting impossible.

     Footsteps echoed through the corridor beyond the iron-barred door.

     Click. Click. Click.

     He looked up through his bangs.

     A tall woman stepped into view, surrounded by Kiri shinobi. Long, flowing auburn hair, piercing green eyes, and an air of undeniable authority. She stared down at him, arms crossed, curiosity flickering in her gaze.

     Sasuke barely resisted the urge to scoff.

     “Yagura Karatachi was the Mizukage the last time I checked… Has he been overthrown?”

     He knew Kakashi had briefly mentioned Kiri’s ongoing civil war during their mission in the Land of Waves, but he hadn’t given it much thought. Now, sitting in the depths of some unknown facility, he couldn’t help but wonder—

     What had happened to Kiri?

     The woman’s gaze sharpened.

    “Who are you?” she demanded, voice smooth yet commanding. “And what business do you have in Kirigakure?”

     Sasuke remained composed. He leaned back slightly against the cold wall, ignoring the tight ropes around his wrists.

     “Sasuke.”

     Nothing more.

     Mei raised a delicate eyebrow. “Just Sasuke?”

     “Just Sasuke.”

     The guards stiffened at his casual tone, but Mei merely studied him with interest. “And what brings you to Kiri?”

     “I came from the Land of Whirlpools,” he said simply. “Out of boredom.”

     Silence.

     Mei’s eyebrow twitched. “Boredom?”

     A nearby guard snorted. Another one scowled.

     “Nobody has lived in the Land of Whirlpools for decades,” Mei stated. “No one has even traveled there. The island is surrounded by violent storms—no ships dare to go near it. Most consider the place… cursed.”

     Sasuke deadpanned. “Well I came from there. Clearly it’s not that cursed.”

     A guard stepped forward aggressively. “Liar! Prove it!”

     Sasuke rolled his eyes. “Believe whatever you want. I’ve got nothing to hide.”

     His calm indifference only made the guards tense further, but Mei hummed, watching him closely.

     “If that’s true, then tell me… which shinobi village are you from?”

     Sasuke met her gaze evenly. “Uzushio.”

     Silence.

     The guards exchanged confused glances. Mei’s expression deadpanned.

     Then—

     “You look exactly like an Uchiha.”

     Sasuke tilted his head slightly, as if amused. “The Uchiha have been dead for years.”

     Mei’s eyes narrowed.

     “Are you the Mizukage?” he asked suddenly, changing the subject.

     Mei hesitated, then shook her head. “No.”

     Sasuke let out a slow breath, relieved. “Figured as much.”

     Mei crossed her arms. “And what gave you that impression?”

     Sasuke shrugged. “The bloodline purges. The civil war. Your village isn’t exactly subtle about it.”

     Her expression darkened slightly. “How does an outsider like you know about that?”

     Sasuke gave her a blank look. “I had the displeasure of running into Zabuza Momochi a while ago.”

     That got a reaction.

     Mei’s entire demeanor shifted.

     Her guards stiffened. Her green eyes widened slightly.

     Sasuke continued, tone neutral. “He and some teen around my age with an Ice Release kekkei genkai was with him. They tried to kill me.”

     Mei paled.

    “Haku?” she whispered.

    Sasuke didn’t answer. He didn’t need to.

    Mei stepped forward, but before she could inquire further, Sasuke tilted his head and smoothly shifted the topic. He wasn’t done playing this game just yet.

     “Is this the rebellion’s hideout?” 

     Sasuke’s voice was calm, almost bored, as he glanced around the dimly lit chamber. His Sharingan remained dormant, yet his sharp gaze missed nothing—the damp stone walls, the rusted iron bars, the torches flickering in the corners. It wasn’t much, but the setup was too structured, too organized to be just some random holding cell.

     None of the guards answered him.

     Not that he expected them to.

     Mei tilted her head slightly, observing him. Instead of answering, she fired back, “Why did you come to Kiri, really?”

     Sasuke exhaled through his nose, amused. “I already told you, boredom.”

     Mei’s lips curled slightly, unimpressed. “That’s a weak excuse.”

     Sasuke smirked. “Maybe, but it’s the truth.”

     Mei’s eyes narrowed. “And you expect me to believe that?”

     Sasuke leaned back against the wall, rolling his shoulders slightly to ease the stiffness from being bound all night. “I don’t expect anything. You’re the one keeping me here. It’s your decision whether you believe me or not.”

     The two locked eyes. Silence stretched between them, only broken by the soft crackling of the torches. The conversation continued in circles—Mei prying for more information, Sasuke deflecting with smooth evasions, never outright lying but never fully revealing anything either.

     After what felt like hours, Mei finally sighed in frustration.

     “Tch.”

     She turned on her heel, motioning for her guards to follow.

    Sasuke smirked as she walked away.

    He had won this battle. Barely.

    The next morning, Mei descended the stone steps to check on their captive—only to freeze in shock.

    Sasuke was no longer bound.

     He sat casually on a wooden stool in the center of his cell, flipping through a book, seemingly unbothered by his imprisonment. The ropes that once held him lay discarded in a neat pile on the floor.

      “Good morning,” Sasuke greeted without looking up.

     The guards instantly went on alert, hands hovering over their weapons. Mei, however, narrowed her eyes. “How did you free yourself?”

     Sasuke turned a page. “It wasn’t that difficult. The knots were loose.”

     A blatant lie.

     Mei folded her arms, studying him. That book in his hands—it was old, fragile, its cover marked with the spiral crest of Uzushio.

     “That book…” she murmured. “You really did come from Uzushio.”

     Sasuke nodded. Without hesitation, he lifted his arm and sealed the book away in the storage seal inked onto his skin.

      Mei’s sharp gaze flickered with intrigue. “Fūinjutsu?”

      Sasuke met her eyes. “I told you I had no reason to lie.”

      Mei tapped her fingers against her arm. “And yet you claim to have no ties, no motives.”

      “That’s right.”

      “Then why are you so calm?”

      Sasuke tilted his head, considering the question. Then, without a hint of hesitation, he replied, “Because I have no real reason to care whether I live or die.”

     The room fell into silence. Mei’s expression shifted—her lips parted slightly, her posture relaxing just a fraction. She had interrogated hundreds of people throughout this war. She had seen liars, spies, survivors—but Sasuke’s eyes…

     He wasn’t lying. That hollow look—one of emptiness, resignation. The kind of look worn by those who had lost everything.

     Without a word, Mei stepped forward and unlocked the cell door.

      “M-Mei-sama—!” One of the guards started in alarm.

     Mei raised a hand, stopping them. “The kid’s not lying. He really is just an orphan.”

     Sasuke slowly rose to his feet, rubbing his wrists. He inclined his head slightly—not quite a bow, but a respectful nod nonetheless.

     “I appreciate the hospitality,” he said dryly.

     Mei smirked. “You’re not free just yet.”

     Sasuke raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

     Mei took a step closer. “You asked if this was the rebellion’s hideout. Well, now I have a question for you.”

     Sasuke met her gaze evenly.

     “How would you like to join us?”

     Sasuke blinked. Of all the responses, he hadn’t expected that. “Join?”

      Mei nodded. “We could use someone like you and you need somewhere to go, don’t you?”

     Sasuke glanced at the guards, then back at Mei.

     He had no allegiance.

     No home.

     No reason to refuse.

     ”…Fine.”

     A smirk spread across Mei’s lips. “Welcome to the rebellion.”

     Sasuke spent the next few weeks blending into the rebellion. He was a fast learner. Too fast. His ability to analyze and adapt made him a valuable asset, and soon, he was training alongside some of the strongest warriors Kiri had to offer.

     His fire and lightning natures served him well, but when it came to picking up water and earth jutsu—he struggled. Unlike in Konoha, where he had used his Sharingan to copy movements with ease, here he was forced to learn everything manually, from scratch.

     It was a humbling experience.

     Sasuke kept his Uchiha heritage hidden. There were too many risks—if word got out, Konoha would undoubtedly catch wind of it. He had no intention of being dragged back.

     Instead, he simply went by Sasuke, an orphan of Uzushio. No surname, no clan.

     And the rebellion? They welcomed him regardless.

     The day of reckoning arrived.

     Sasuke stood amongst the ranks of the rebellion, clad in traditional Kiri attire—a sleeveless, dark blue tunic with matching pants, bound by a sash. Over it, he wore the haori he had taken from Uzushio, the fabric now slightly worn from months of use. His sword rested at his hip and his long hair was tied back securely.

      This was it.

      The final battle.

      The mist was thick, curling around the gathered forces like a living entity, carrying the tension in the air. Mei Terumi stepped forward, standing on an elevated platform to address the army.

      “For years, we have suffered under the reign of Yagura Karatachi!” Her voice rang loud and clear. “For years, we have watched our people slaughtered, our families torn apart, and our home drowned in blood!”

     A chorus of agreement rumbled through the crowd.

     Mei’s emerald eyes burned with conviction. “But today—today, we put an end to it. We take back Kirigakure! We will not be broken! We will not be silenced! We will fight, and we will win!”

     A roar erupted from the rebellion.

     Sasuke remained quiet, simply watching. He had no deep attachment to this fight. No grand desire to liberate Kiri.

      But today, he was here. Today, he fought alongside them.

     And that was enough.

     With that final declaration, the war began.

     The battlefield erupted into chaos.

     Sasuke moved like a shadow, weaving through the streets of Kirigakure with practiced ease. He cut down enemy shinobi left and right—his movements precise, efficient. A kunai to the throat. A sweep of the leg. A clean slash across the chest.

     Lightning crackled in his palms.

     “Chidori Nagashi—!” (Lightning Release: Lightning Current)

     A pulse of blue electricity spread out from his body, shocking the surrounding enemies into paralysis before he swiftly ended them. The mist was thick, making it nearly impossible to see, but Sasuke had trained in this environment. He used it to his advantage, striking fast and disappearing before his enemies could react.

     The rebellion pressed forward, pushing through Kiri’s defenses, but the Mizukage’s forces were not weak. They fought tooth and nail, the very streets of Kiri turning into a battlefield of blood and jutsu.

     Sasuke barely dodged a massive water dragon that crashed into a nearby building, sending debris flying.

     The enemy was everywhere.

     But so was he.

     Amidst the chaos, Sasuke broke away from the main battle. He knew that taking down Yagura was the key to ending this war. The longer the Mizukage stood, the more blood would be shed.

     So, he did what he did best.

     He snuck into the Mizukage Tower.

     The halls were eerily silent. Most of the enemy shinobi were out fighting, leaving the inside relatively unguarded.

     Too easy.

     Sasuke pushed forward, his footsteps silent. He made his way through the corridors, his senses on high alert. Finally, he reached the Mizukage’s office.

     This was it.

     He took a deep breath, then kicked the door open—

     —only to be blasted backward by a surge of water.

     “Shit—!”

     Sasuke barely managed to flip mid-air, landing on  the ground in a crouch. His haori dripped with water, the force of the blast leaving a sharp sting on his skin.

      Slowly, he looked up. Standing in the center of the room was Yagura Karatachi.

      The Fourth Mizukage.

      His violet eyes locked onto Sasuke, cold and calculating. In his hands, he gripped his hook-ended club, resting it against his shoulder.

     “I was wondering when you’d show up,” Yagura murmured.

     Sasuke cursed internally.

     He had royally fucked up.

     “I was expecting Mei Terumi,” he said coolly. “Or perhaps one of the Seven Swordsmen.” His grip on the hook-ended club tightened slightly. “But instead, I find a lone shinobi. An outsider.”

     The disappointment in his voice was palpable.

     Sasuke’s heartbeat remained steady, but a nagging feeling in the back of his mind screamed at him. Something wasn’t right.

      He had heard many stories about the Mizukage from the rebellion. Tales of his ruthlessness, his overwhelming power, his reign of terror.

      But not once—not even once—had anyone mentioned how off-putting he acted.

      Sasuke’s eyes flickered up, locking onto Yagura’s gaze.

      And that’s when he saw it.

      Something… off.

      It wasn’t something tangible, but it was there. A flicker of something unnatural behind those violet irises, something just beneath the surface—something controlling him.

      “He’s under a genjutsu.”

      The realization sent a chill down Sasuke’s spine. But before he could process it fully—

      “Suiton: Suiryuudan no Jutsu!” (Water Release: Water Dragon Jutsu)

      A massive serpent of water erupted from behind Yagura, twisting through the air with violent precision before hurling itself at Sasuke.

      “Tch—!”

      Sasuke leaped aside, barely avoiding the crushing force of the water dragon. The ground beneath him shattered on impact, sending debris flying in every direction.

       Another attack.

       “Suiton: Suidanha!” (Water Release: Water Severing Wave)

      A high-pressure blade of water shot toward him, slicing through the air with terrifying speed. Sasuke ducked low, the attack barely missing his head as it split through a steel lantern behind him, cleaving it clean in two.

     He could barely keep up. Yagura wasn’t just strong—he was a Kage. The gap in power was undeniable.

     “I can’t fight him.”

      Sasuke knew it. He wasn’t delusional. He placed himself at Chunin level at best. Without his Sharingan, he was nothing but an above-average shinobi with decent reflexes and tactics.

     The voices in his head snickered in agreement.

     “You’re too weak.”

     “You’re useless without your Sharingan.”

     “Pathetic excuse of an Uchiha.”

     “Shut up,” Sasuke snarled internally, just as Yagura closed the distance.

     A metallic blur—the club came down hard. Sasuke twisted at the last second, the weapon barely grazing his side as it obliterated the ground where he had been standing. Dust and mist swirled violently.

      “I need to get out of here.”

      Sasuke turned and ran. He wasn’t ashamed of it. This wasn’t cowardice—it was strategy. There was no point in fighting a losing battle.

      He dashed through the corridors of the Mizukage Tower, his boots barely making a sound against the wet stone floor. He needed a plan. A real one.

       But Yagura was fast. Too fast.

      “You think you can escape?”

     A blur of motion—Sasuke barely had time to react before something slammed into his back.

      ”—!!”

      The force sent him crashing into a nearby wall, the impact knocking the air from his lungs. Pain exploded across his ribs, but he forced himself to move.

      Yagura’s club swung down once more. Sasuke rolled aside, narrowly avoiding the killing blow as the weapon smashed through solid stone.

      He couldn’t keep dodging forever.

      “Think, Sasuke. Think!”

      His mind worked rapidly, forming a plan—a risky  one. If Yagura was under a genjutsu… then he had to break him out of it.

      But it wasn’t that simple. This wasn’t an ordinary illusion. This was something deeper.

      Something dangerous.

     “I don’t know if this will work… but I don’t have a choice.”

      Sasuke gritted his teeth and made his move. He lured Yagura into a narrow hallway, forcing the Mizukage into a bottleneck. Less room to maneuver, more room for mistakes.

     Yagura charged forward with brutal speed, swinging his club in a wide arc. Sasuke sidestepped at the last moment—

     —and slammed his hands into the wet stone floor.

     “Raiton: Jibashi!” (Lightning Release: Electromagnetic Murder)

      A pulse of electricity spread across the floor, conducting through the thin layer of water. It wasn’t enough to kill a Kage, but it was enough to momentarily stun one.

     Yagura’s body seized up for a split second. That was all Sasuke needed.

      His Sharingan spun to life.

      His world darkened.

      He dove deep into Yagura’s subconscious, past the layers of chakra-infused chains that bound his mind.

     And then—he saw it.

     A presence.

     Sinister. Cold.

     A shadowed figure loomed behind Yagura’s consciousness, tendrils of chakra wrapped tightly around his mind. Sasuke felt a foreign malice leak into his own thoughts, something ancient and calculating. A single shrouded eye stared back at him.

     And then—

     “GET OUT!”

     A violent force slammed into him, nearly knocking him back into reality, but Sasuke held on. He channeled everything into severing the connection, breaking the chains—

      And then, with a final push—

      Yagura’s mind shattered free.

      The presence vanished. Sasuke gasped, snapping back into his own body, stumbling back against the wall. 

      Yagura stood there, his eyes wide. Clarity returned to his gaze, his grip on the club loosened.

      A heavy silence filled the corridor.

      And then, in a whisper—

     “What… have I done?”

     Sasuke barely had time to process the look of horror on Yagura’s face before his knees buckled. A deep exhaustion crashed over him like a tidal wave and his vision blurred.

     “Damn it—”

     The last thing he saw was Yagura’s face contorting in panic before everything went black.

     Mei and her forces stormed the Mizukage’s Tower just minutes later. They arrived to a bizarre sight: The feared Fourth Mizukage, Yagura Karatachi—Jinchūriki of the Three-Tails, the man who had ruled over Kirigakure with an iron fist—

     …was kneeling on the ground, visibly shaken.

     And Sasuke laid unconscious nearby.

     Mei’s sharp eyes scanned the scene. She had felt it.

     A shift in chakra—something major had just happened.

     She approached cautiously, her hands still on edge for a fight. “What the hell is going on here?”

     One of her men immediately went to check Sasuke’s vitals. “He’s alive—just unconscious.”

     Yagura’s breathing was unsteady.

      “I… I wasn’t in control of my actions,” he muttered, almost horrified. “I was trapped. Watching myself rule in a nightmare I couldn’t wake from.”

     Mei’s expression darkened. “Explain.”

     Yagura trembled, his fingers clutching his temples. “I was under a genjutsu.”

     The entire room fell silent.

     Ao, standing at Mei’s side, narrowed his eyes. “That’s impossible. No genjutsu lasts for years—especially not on a Jinchūriki.”

     Yagura shook his head. “This one did.” His gaze landed on Sasuke’s unconscious form. “And he… he broke me out of it.”

     Mei’s breath hitched. Something about this didn’t make sense. Who could have placed such a powerful genjutsu?

     For now, Yagura was taken into custody, his authority stripped as Mei and the rebellion officially seized power.

     Just like that…

     The war was over.

     Sasuke awoke to the faint scent of antiseptic and the distant murmurs of voices outside his room. His head throbbed.

     With a quiet groan, he sat up, rubbing his temples. His body felt… strange. Like he had overused his chakra in a way he had never experienced before.

      His fingers lightly traced the familiar scarred skin of his inner arm, remembering the fūinjutsu seals he had painstakingly created there.

      But now wasn’t the time to dwell on it.

      He stood up.

      Immediately, a nurse rushed to his bedside. “Wait—you shouldn’t be moving yet!”

      Sasuke ignored her, stepping past. “I’m fine.”

      “Sasuke-san!” she called out in exasperation, but he was already out the door.

      His legs were still a bit unsteady, but he forced himself to walk.

       Kirigakure’s rebel headquarters was buzzing with tension. The war was over, but the transition of power was far from smooth.

      Sasuke wandered for a while before he came across a heated argument. Mei Terumi stood with her arms crossed, speaking sternly to Ao, her right-hand man.

      Ao looked frustrated.

      “You’re telling me,” Mei snapped, “that the boy in that hospital room broke Yagura out of an unknown genjutsu? Do you know what that means?”

     Sasuke paused at the doorway, catching their attention. Mei’s gaze snapped to him instantly.

     Her expression was unreadable as she spoke. “Sasuke.”

      Sasuke frowned. “What?”

      Her teal eyes bore into him. 

      “Yagura has been telling us everything,” she said, her voice unreadable.

     “Everything?” Sasuke repeated, confused.

     Mei’s tone hardened. “He says you broke him out of a genjutsu that controlled him for years.”

     Sasuke stayed silent. He had already figured that much out.

     “And,” Mei continued, stepping forward, “that it was a genjutsu that could only be cast and uncast by a Sharingan.”

     Sasuke’s breath hitched. His blood ran cold.

     Ao frowned, crossing his arms. “Which begs the question—are you an Uchiha?”

     Sasuke’s fists clenched. He had been exposed. There was no point in hiding it anymore.

     He lifted his gaze to Mei. “Yeah, I am.”

     The room went silent.

     Mei’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Then why didn’t you say anything before?”

      Sasuke exhaled sharply. “Because my feelings toward my clan are… complicated.”

      Mei narrowed her eyes. “Complicated how?”

      Sasuke’s expression darkened. “Itachi Uchiha wiped out our entire clan. You don’t need the details.”

      Ao muttered, “That still doesn’t explain how you were able to break Yagura free.”

       Sasuke shook his head.

      “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I didn’t even know Itachi came all the way to Kiri to place the Mizukage under a genjutsu.”

      Mei’s eyes flickered with something strange.

     “It wasn’t Itachi,” she said slowly.

     Sasuke’s gaze snapped up. “What?”

     Mei’s voice was calm but sharp. “The person who placed Yagura under a genjutsu wasn’t Itachi Uchiha.”

     Sasuke’s mind reeled.

     “But he used the Sharingan,” Sasuke pointed out.

     Mei nodded. “Yes. But according to Yagura… it was a man in an orange mask.”

     Sasuke felt his stomach drop. His chest tightened.

     Orange mask.

     A man with a Sharingan.

     His fingers trembled.

     “That means…”

     His clan wasn’t entirely dead after all.

     There was so much to process—so much he didn’t know, and yet… he couldn’t stay here.

     Mei watched him carefully before exhaling. “We’ll finish this conversation later.”

     Sasuke merely nodded. Without another word, he turned on his heel and walked out of the room.

     His mind was chaotic.

      “I can’t stay here. If they know about my Sharingan, it won’t take long before someone alerts Konoha. I need to leave—now.”

     He moved quickly and silently, blending into the shadows of the worn-down buildings.

     The rebellion had won and the city was chaotic with transition. Guard rotations were sloppy. Soldiers were distracted. He used it all to his advantage.

     Sasuke maneuvered through the streets undetected. When he finally reached the edge of Kirigakure, he didn’t hesitate.

     His foot touched the water’s surface.

     And he ran.

     He kept running, chakra pushing through his legs as he sprinted across the endless ocean. The humid mist of Kirigakure slowly faded behind him, but he didn’t look back.

     He never looked back.

     He just ran.

     Sasuke didn’t stop until his feet hit the damp sand of Fire Country’s shoreline. The moment he reached solid ground, his body heaved forward. His hands gripped his knees as he bent over, breathing heavily. His chest rose and fell rapidly, lungs screaming for air. 

     His body ached, but… he had managed to cross a vast distance without completely depleting his chakra. That in itself was an improvement.

     Sasuke slowly straightened, his dark eyes flickering toward the sky.

     It was night. The moonlight stretched across the sea’s horizon, casting pale glows over the waves. The cool air pressed against his sweat-dampened skin.

     Sasuke’s lips pressed together.

     “It’s night. That means it’s the perfect time to keep moving.”

     Without pause, he pushed forward.

     Hours passed. Sasuke had traveled far into the outskirts of the Fire Country, careful to avoid main roads and heavily populated areas.

     Still, exhaustion weighed on him. His body had been running on fumes ever since he woke up in that hospital. Now, he needed rest.

     He eventually stumbled into a small, quiet village. It was the kind that saw little conflict, its streets dimly lit with lanterns, its people long asleep.

     A modest inn stood at the edge of town. Sasuke entered. The innkeeper, a tired-looking older man, gave him a once-over before holding out a hand.

     Sasuke handed over his remaining ryo. The innkeeper barely spoke, simply passing him a key and motioning to the stairs.

     Sasuke took it without a word. 

     His legs felt heavier with each step up the staircase. The moment he stepped inside his small room, he shut the door, locked it, and collapsed onto the futon.

     His body sank into the mattress.

     His limbs felt like lead.

     The fatigue that had been clawing at him finally won.

      Sasuke barely had time to exhale before sleep dragged him under.

Chapter Text

     Sasuke stood before the mirror. The morning light seeped through the paper-thin curtains of the small inn, casting soft shadows across the dimly lit room. His bare feet pressed against the worn wooden floorboards, his fingers deftly fastening the last of his new clothes.

     Gone was the old attire. The remnants of his past—his time in Uzushio, his stint in Kiri—were now sealed away in a small scroll resting atop the nightstand.

     Now he donned a dark, sleeveless tunic, a pair of form-fitting black pants, and a navy-blue sash secured at his waist. His arms, once exposed, were now wrapped in bandages from elbow to wrist, covering old wounds and fresh scars alike. Finally, he reached for a simple black cord, tying his long hair back into a low ponytail.

     With a breath, he lifted his gaze and froze. The mirror reflected him, but it was wrong. His face was his, yet… not.

     The sharp curve of his jaw. The cold, hollow expression. The dark eyes that bore into him like a phantom’s gaze.

     Sasuke’s fingers twitched. His chest tightened. Because for the briefest moment…

     He saw Itachi.

     Sasuke gritted his teeth.

     His nails subconsciously dug into the skin of his forearm, pressing hard enough to leave behind reddened crescents. The reflection did not change. The air in the room suddenly felt suffocating.

     With a sharp pivot, Sasuke turned on his heel and fled the room, slamming the door shut behind him. That was the last time he ever looked into a mirror.

     Sasuke had no plan.

     No home.

     No family.

     No clan.

    No reason to keep going.

    Yet, he still had to survive.

    And so, he turned to bounty hunting.

    It was out of necessity, not choice. He needed money. He needed food. He needed to exist in this world without being found.

     One night, under the cover of darkness, Sasuke stole a bingo book from an unsuspecting shinobi. He flipped through the pages, skimming over the various entries—mercenaries, missing-nin, rogue samurai. Some had absurdly high bounties. Others, not so much.

     His own name and photo was there, marked as “Missing Ninja – Konoha” with an undisclosed bounty.

     He ignored it and continued flipping.

     Eventually, he settled on an easy target.

     Or so he thought.

     Bounty hunting was anything but easy. Sasuke learned that the hard way.

     His breath came out ragged as he sprinted through the thick undergrowth of a dense forest, his quarry just ahead. The man—a rogue shinobi from Kusagakure—was fast. Faster than Sasuke had anticipated.

     But Sasuke was faster.

     With a burst of chakra, he propelled himself forward, weaving through trees with practiced precision. His fingers wrapped around the handle of a kunai, preparing for the finishing blow—

     Then the ground collapsed beneath him.

     Sasuke barely had time to react before he was yanked downward, thin wires coiling around his limbs like constricting snakes.

     “A trap—!”

     He hit the ground hard, pain lancing through his side.

     A shadow loomed above him.

     “You bounty hunters never learn,” the rogue nin sneered, twirling a jagged kunai between his fingers. “You think you can take me down so easily? Pathetic.”

     Sasuke scowled and activated a hand seal.

     “Chidori Nagashi!” (Lightning Release: Lightning Current)

     Lightning exploded from his body, crackling through the wires and shattering them into burnt fragments. The rogue nin barely had time to react before Sasuke was on him.

     A flurry of kunai met a flash of steel. The two clashed violently, their movements blurring together in the moonlit clearing. Sasuke’s muscles burned with exertion, but he refused to back down.

    His Sharingan itched to activate.

    But he didn’t.

    Wouldn’t.

    He didn’t need it.

    He refused to rely on it.

    With a sharp feint, Sasuke ducked under a wild swing, bringing his kunai up in a clean, precise arc—

     The blade sliced through flesh.

     A gargled choke escaped the rogue nin’s lips. Sasuke pulled back. The body collapsed.

      For a moment, Sasuke simply stared down at the lifeless corpse, blood pooling beneath it. Then, exhaling slowly, he pulled out a scroll and began the sealing process. The body vanished into the parchment, neatly stored for transport. With the bounty secured, Sasuke turned and disappeared into the night.

     The nearest bounty station was a shady underground outpost hidden beneath an abandoned temple. The air was thick with the stench of sweat and metal, and the dim lighting cast eerie shadows across the stone walls.

      Sasuke entered with silent steps, his expression unreadable. He approached the counter. A beady-eyed man peered at him from behind a metal grate. “Whaddya got?”

     Sasuke produced the scroll. The man unsealed it. The rogue nin’s corpse tumbled onto the floor.

      The clerk examined the body with an experienced eye before nodding.

      “Not bad for a first-timer,” he mused, tossing a sack of ryo onto the counter.

     Sasuke took it without a word and left. As he stepped out into the night, the weight of his first true kill for profit settled in his chest.

     He told himself it didn’t matter.

     It was just another body.

     Another step forward in a life with no direction.

     Sasuke moved like a shadow. From village to village, he eliminated his targets, crossing off names from the pages of his stolen bingo book.

     At first the work was simple. Some bounties were nothing more than low-level thugs or runaway shinobi who had long abandoned their training. But as the days turned into weeks, he began to struggle.

     Some of his targets were stronger than he expected. Others were smarter. And more than once, he overused his chakra, leaving himself vulnerable.

     The worst moments came when the curse mark reared its ugly head.

     Rage, frustration, pain—

     Those emotions fed the mark, sending fire crawling beneath his skin, threatening to devour him.

     And the voices…

     They laughed.

     “You enjoy this, don’t you? The thrill? The hunt?”

     Sasuke ignored them.

     But he knew he had a problem.

     The curse mark.

     It wasn’t just a power. It was a shackle. A whispering serpent in his mind. If he ever wanted to be truly free, he had to get rid of it.

     That became his new objective.

     Sasuke’s search for a hideout led him to a series of abandoned caves deep within the mountains near Taki no Kuni. The damp, musty air clung to his skin as he stepped inside, kunai drawn, his senses sharp. He explored carefully, noting the rotting wooden crates, rusted kunai, and faded old  maps left behind.

     “This must’ve been a war shelter from the Second Shinobi World War…” he murmured.

     Whatever the case, it would serve as his new base.

     And he wouldn’t repeat his Kiri mistake.

     “No more getting captured.”

     Sasuke got to work immediately. Using a combination of seals and genjutsu, he wove a barrier around the caves, ensuring no one could detect his presence. A complex array of explosive tags, chakra suppression seals, and illusionary diversions turned the entrance into a deadly trap for any unwanted guests. Satisfied, Sasuke sealed his supplies away and settled in.

     For weeks, Sasuke holed himself up in the cave, only venturing out for supply runs. His focus was singular: understanding the curse mark.

     What he discovered disturbed him. The curse mark wasn’t just some chakra-enhancing tool. It was a form of fūinjutsu.

     And worse—it contained Orochimaru’s chakra.

     “A failsafe…” Sasuke realized grimly.

     A way for Orochimaru to invade his body. To possess him.

     His stomach churned at the thought.

     And the voices?

     They laughed.

     “Disgusted, are you?”

     “Afraid you’re not in control?”

     Sasuke scowled. “Shut up.”

     “But we can help you.”

    The voices shifted. For once, they weren’t just taunting him. They whispered an idea, a way to limit the curse mark’s influence. Sasuke listened, and, begrudgingly, he admitted… it was a good plan.

     “Then get to work, Sasuke.”

     He did.

     And he wouldn’t stop until he won.

      Sasuke spent weeks poring over books, scrolls, and memories, desperately trying to piece together a countermeasure against the curse mark. The knowledge from Uzushio helped—their sealing techniques were some of the best in history. He combined that with what he remembered of:

• Kakashi’s Evil Sealing Method.

• The Sound Four’s Stage One transformations.

• Jinchūriki containment seals.

     He sketched out ideas on the cave walls, his hands covered in ink and sweat, refining his formula again and again.

      Then came testing.

      He used himself as the test dummy.

      The first attempt? Failure.

      The curse mark lashed out, searing his skin and nearly forcing him into Stage One.

      The second attempt? Still failure.

     His seal wasn’t strong enough to suppress the mark completely.

      More attempts followed. Each time, the mark fought back.

      But Sasuke was nothing if not stubborn.

     Finally, after weeks of trial and error, he crafted a unique seal—a fusion of Uzumaki fūinjutsu, chakra suppression techniques, and his own innovations.

     The final test came.

     He activated the curse mark on purpose. The familiar burn crept along his skin, the voices in his head laughing, whispering—

     Then the new seal activated.

     A surge of pain. Like ice dousing a fire.

     The curse mark stopped.

     It still existed. It wasn’t gone. But now?

     It was contained.

     For the first time since Orochimaru branded him, Sasuke felt in control. A rare smile crossed his lips.

     “At least temporarily, I’ve won.”

     With his main objective complete, Sasuke turned his attention to his next problem—power. His chakra reserves needed to grow. His arsenal needed to expand.

     And he needed money.

     He checked his coin pouch.

     It was nearly empty.

     A long sigh escaped him.

     “Guess it’s time to get back out there.”

     Before leaving, Sasuke made sure to erase all traces of his presence in the cave. He wiped away his sealing formulas, burned any leftover scraps of paper, and ensured his barrier seals would collapse once he was gone. He took what supplies he could and sealed them into his arm tattoo. Finally, with a last glance at the cave’s entrance, he turned and vanished into the wilderness.

     His next hunt had begun.

     Sasuke had quickly learned that bounty hunting wasn’t just about raw power, it was about survival.

     He’d underestimated his first few targets and paid the price in injuries and exhaustion. The twelfth bounty had nearly crushed his windpipe in an earth-style ambush. If not for his quick reflexes, he would have died there.

     The twenty third bounty was an ex-Kumo assassin—dangerous, fast, and relentless. Sasuke had been forced to use his Sharingan just to keep up with the bastard’s lightning-infused blade work.

     The twenty-ninth bounty was a trap. Sasuke had been set up, ambushed, and forced into a desperate fight against a group of rogue ninja who wanted his head just as much as he wanted theirs. 

     He only survived because he had grown smarter, more ruthless. He learned not to waste chakra. He learned not to underestimate anyone. He learned how to fight dirty.

     It wasn’t just about jutsu anymore.

     It was about tactics.

     Weeks turned into months. Sasuke didn’t keep track. He didn’t care. All that mattered was survival.

     He changed his appearance constantly—sometimes cutting his hair short, other times growing it out. He wore different styles of clothing, changed his posture, his gait, his accent.

     No one ever knew his real name. In the bounty hunting world, he was known only as “Weasle.”

     A deliberate jab at his brother.

     “Fuck the Uchiha. Fuck society.”

     If Itachi could discard his clan and become a murderer and outcast, then Sasuke could do the same—but without the kinslaying.

     One mission nearly cost him everything.

     The target was a missing-nin from Iwa—dangerous, but not impossible. Sasuke had planned for a clean takedown. A quick ambush, a decisive kill.

     But the rogue had been prepared.

     Explosive tags turned the battlefield into a death trap. Sasuke barely escaped, but not before a blast shredded his side and nearly crushed his arm.

     He had no choice. He had to find a medic.

     He found an underground doctor in a shady village, paid with most of his remaining ryo, and watched with gritted teeth as the man stitched his body back together.

     That was the moment Sasuke realized—

     “I can’t rely on anyone.”

     He would never put himself in that position again.

     So he learned.

      He stole medical books, scrolls, anything he could get his hands on. He observed, studied, practiced.

      At first he sought civilian healers. Not shinobi medics—too risky. He learned how to set bones, how to disinfect wounds, how to stitch his own flesh without hesitation. 

      His hands, once used only for killing, now became just as skilled in mending.

      Not because he wanted to heal.

      But because he refused to be weak.

      He refused to be captured.

      And most of all—

      He refused to die.

      Sasuke had once viewed medical ninjutsu as a skill of the weak. But now? Now he saw its true potential.

      Healing was just one side of the coin. Destruction was the other.

      He took great satisfaction in tearing his enemies apart from the inside out. A mere touch was all it took. A delicate brush of his fingers could turn organs to pulp, veins to poison, bones to dust.

     Once, he had thought Chidori was the pinnacle of lethal precision. Now? Now he could rupture a heart with a simple pulse of chakra.

     He learned what poisons were the most excruciating. How to paralyze, how to blind, how to kill in seconds—or minutes, if he wanted them to suffer.

     And seals—

     Oh, how he loved seals.

     Fūinjutsu and medical ninjutsu—two sacred arts that no one else had dared to combine the way he did. He carved seals into flesh, twisted chakra pathways, invented new forms of combat that left enemies helpless.

     With a flick of his wrist, he could lock away someone’s ability to mold chakra. With a simple mark, he could force a wound to never heal. With a press of his palm, he could turn their own blood into a lethal weapon against them.

     This wasn’t just power. This was innovation.

     Sasuke wasn’t a prodigy like Itachi.

     He was something else, something the world had never seen before.

     “You’re just like Itachi.”

     Sasuke remembered.

     The teachers in the Academy. The elders. The villagers. Even his own clan.

     “A genius, just like his brother.”

     “A hard worker, just like Itachi.”

     “Maybe he’ll surpass him one day.”

     It had never been about him, only how he measured against Itachi.

     At first, he had embraced it. He had pushed himself to live up to the expectations. The praise had fueled him, made him feel like he had a place, a purpose.

      But then, the whispers came.

      “He’ll never be Itachi.”

      “Not as fast, not as strong, not as brilliant.”

     And the worst part? His own father barely looked at him.

     Fugaku only saw him when necessary—a fleeting glance, a passing comment. His mother was kind, but distant. A pushover who never challenged anything.

     And Itachi? Burdened with responsibilities that crushed him, responsibilities that Sasuke never fully understood until it was too late.

     His family had been dysfunctional from the start.

     Maybe Itachi had always been doomed to snap.

     Maybe Sasuke had, too.

     Sasuke remembered when he snapped, when he had lashed out at Team 7, when he had burned his childhood home down, when the scars on his arms and neck became permanent, when he had tried to end it all.

     It was a haze of rage, pain, and emptiness.

     He had let revenge consume him. Let it drag him into hell and make him into something twisted, bitter, lost.

     He had spent years being compared—

     To Itachi.

     To Naruto.

     To Sakura, of all people, for her chakra control.

     What was he, if not a failure in comparison?

     But now? Now he saw the truth. He had never stood a chance.

     From the moment he was born, he was fucked. His fate was written before he had even understood what fate was. And maybe, just maybe—

     He had always been broken.

     The voices still lingered. He had spent years trying to fight them, to silence them, to pretend they weren’t there.

     Now? Now he embraced them. He embraced the madness. He embraced the fact that he was scum.

     That he was a monster.

     That he had abandoned everything—his home, his friends, his family, his humanity.

     And the worst part?

     He didn’t mind it anymore.

     Sasuke had long since abandoned the idea of living up to Itachi or the Uchiha clan or anything that tied him to a name that had never truly belonged to him. For years, he had been burdened by the weight of his ancestry. The ghosts of those who had perished at his brother’s hands, the expectations of a clan that was already rotting before it had been slaughtered.

     He had hated Itachi. Then he had forgiven him. Then he had hated him again.

     Now? Now, he felt nothing.

     The Itachi he had once loved was dead. The Uchiha were dead. And when Itachi drew his last breath—

     The Uchiha name would die with him.

     And Sasuke?

     Sasuke would not be buried alongside it.

     He had cast it aside. Discarded it like an old, worn-out mask that no longer fit.

     Uchiha Sasuke no longer existed.

     There was only him.

     A man with no clan. No village. No name.

     A man who would carve a new path, a new legacy—one that had nothing to do with the ghosts of the past.

     The streets were lively. Merchants calling out their wares, mothers scolding their children, the scent of fresh-baked bread wafting through the air. It was all so… normal.

     Sasuke walked through the crowd, his footsteps quiet, his presence blending into the background like a shadow.

     A sudden burst of laughter caught his attention. Two brothers—one older, one younger—chased each other through the streets, their laughter bright and carefree.

     Sasuke paused. For a brief moment, he remembered.

     “Nii-san! Look, I did it! I finally hit the target!”

     “Good job, Sasuke.”

     There was a time when he had idolized Itachi. When just seeing his brother had filled him with excitement. When he had been nothing more than a little boy chasing after the footsteps of someone he could never reach.

     Now?

     He felt nothing.

     Not regret. Not anger. Not sadness.

     Just… nothing.

     He had shed those emotions a long time ago, burned them away until they were nothing but ash. In a perfect world, he would be the ideal shinobi. Emotionless. Detached. Unburdened by love, hate, or loyalty. But the truth was—

     Sasuke didn’t even see himself as a shinobi anymore.

     Shinobi fought for something.

     A village. A cause. A leader.

     Sasuke fought for nothing but survival. He wasn’t bound by duty, honor, or expectations. He simply existed.

     It was ironic, really. Once upon a time, he hadn’t cared if he died. There had been days where he had felt nothing but emptiness. Where he had wandered aimlessly, waiting for someone to end it for him.

     And now? Now, he wanted to live, not because he had found some grand purpose, not because he had been redeemed. But simply to spite the world.

     The voices in his head found it hilarious.

     “You should have died a long time ago.”

     “And yet, here you are.”

     “What a joke.”

     Sasuke agreed. It was a joke. A cruel, twisted joke that he had come to embrace.

     He no longer cared what society thought. He no longer valued their rules, their morals, their expectations.

     He would do as he pleased. He would live on his own terms. And in that realization—

     He had found something he had never truly had before.

      Liberation.

Chapter Text

     Sasuke wasn’t sure how much time had passed since he had first run away. Days. Weeks. Months. It didn’t matter. The past blurred into a series of hunts, fights, and kills.

      Right now, the only thing that mattered was the man kneeling before him—an A-rank missing-nin, wide-eyed, trembling, his body barely able to process the devastation that had just struck him. Above them, the sky was still crackling with residual lightning.

     “Kirin.”

     Sasuke stared down at his opponent, watching the life drain from his eyes. It was remarkably easy now to create and reinvent jutsu.

     When he had abandoned his Sharingan, he had expected to struggle. He had expected his skills to dull, his growth to stagnate. Instead, he had become something entirely new.

     The Sharingan was a crutch for most Uchiha—a convenient shortcut. But Sasuke?

     Sasuke didn’t consider himself an Uchiha anymore. His power was his own.

     With a flick of his wrist, he unsealed a scroll from the inked markings on his forearm and sealed the missing-nin’s corpse inside.

     “Another one down.”

     It had been almost too easy. Once, an A-rank bounty would have been a challenge. Now it was just another hunt—another routine kill.

     His body bore countless scars from past mistakes, a testament to the fights he had endured, the tricks he had survived. Sasuke barely noticed them anymore. If anything, they were just more space for him to cover up in ink.

     Sasuke glanced down at his tattooed arms. At this point, he considered himself a walking coloring book. Every inch of his body was littered with fūinjutsu, carefully designed seals meant to store chakra, weapons, supplies—anything he needed at a moment’s notice.

     It was infinitely more convenient than carrying around bags of supplies like an idiot. And, if nothing else, the element of surprise made it all worth it.

     Nothing was funnier than an opponent underestimating him only for him to pull a sword out of his chest seal like some kind of demented magic trick.

     He tied his hair back, leaving his bangs to hang loose around his face. He blew them out of his eyes before unsealing a map from his wrist. He studied it carefully, his fingers absentmindedly playing with the metal piercings adorning his lips.

     “You’re ruining your body!”

     “This is sacrilege!”

     “You absolute fucking degenerate—”

     Sasuke snorted, remembering the horror the voices in his head had expressed when he had, on a whim, decided to get piercings.

     It had been hilarious.

    Now his ears were pierced multiple times and he had snakebites on his lower lip. The cool metal against his skin was something he had gotten used to.

     He snorted again, thinking back to his old Bingo Book entry. He used to be the golden boy of Konoha. The handsome, brooding prodigy. The boy all the village girls swooned over.

     If they saw him now? Sakura, Ino, every girl who had idolized his younger self—

     Their horror would be priceless.

     He was no longer the conveniently attractive boy they had fallen for. He was something else entirely.

     “I wish I could see their faces.”

    With a small smirk, Sasuke rolled up the map, sealed it back into his tattoo, and stretched his arms. It was about time he paid the Land of Fire a visit.

     Sasuke had seen many strange things during his travels. He had fought his fair share of bounty hunters, seen horrors that would keep most men up at night, and experienced torments no person his age should have ever endured.

     But he had never, not once in his life, expected to see two of the most wanted criminals in the world casually sitting in a tea shop, sharing a plate of dango.

     From his perch on the rooftop, Sasuke let out a quiet snort. Of all the places, of all the times, he had finally come across Itachi and Kisame in a remote village on the border between the Land of Fire and the Land of Hot Springs.

     He had recognized their chakra immediately.

     Kisame’s, in particular, was impossible to miss—a vast, crushing presence, like an ocean waiting to drown everything in its wake. Itachi’s, on the other hand, was eerily controlled. By contrast, Sasuke’s own chakra was so heavily suppressed that he might as well have been a mere civilian.

     Even so, they had noticed him. Not at first, but eventually.

     Sasuke smirked behind his book as Kisame’s eyes flickered toward his direction, followed by Itachi’s.

     “Took them long enough.”

     The scene below was so absurd that Sasuke couldn’t help himself. Two S-rank criminals, a pair of ruthless, wanted men, were leisurely sipping tea and eating sweets like the world wasn’t hunting them down.

     Sasuke decided he would make their lives as inconvenient as possible, not because he was a prankster—he was nothing like Naruto, but there was no denying that messing with these two was a great way to pass the time.

     Sasuke worked fast and efficiently. A few well-placed genjutsu traps, a subtle fūinjutsu seal on Kisame’s sword sheath that made it impossible to unsheathe, and a flicker of wind chakra that sent their table flipping.

     Dango and tea spilled all over Kisame. The look on Kisame’s face was priceless. Itachi didn’t react. He simply set down his cup, his brows twitching ever so slightly.

     Sasuke had to bite back a laugh. As the two stood up, clearly done with their meal, Sasuke knew they were now fully aware that someone was toying with them.

     Yet neither could pin exactly where he was. Not yet. So Sasuke decided to push his luck.

     He barely had time to react before Kisame moved. The massive swordsman smashed through the rooftop tiles with his fist and Sasuke had to flicker away to avoid getting crushed.

     “Damn, he’s fast.”

     Before he could escape, he suddenly found himself cornered in an alleyway. Sasuke knew he could escape in an instant. A mere substitution  jutsu was all it would take.

     But where was the fun in that? So he stayed.

     Kisame cocked his head, staring at him like a particularly confusing puzzle. “What’s a genin like you doing all the way out here, kid?”

     Sasuke’s lips twitched. Itachi, on the other hand, was unnervingly silent. Sasuke decided to have some fun.

     He let his expression shift into one of wide-eyed innocence, taking inspiration from the many ridiculous suggestions the voices in his head were feeding him.

     “Oh my god, your sword is HUGE!” he gasped, staring at Samehada in awe. “How do you even carry that thing? You must be so strong!”

     Kisame blinked. Then grinned. “Heh. You’ve got good eyes, kid.”

     Sasuke then turned to Itachi, feigning shock. “And you! Wow! You look so serious! Do you ever smile?”

     Kisame choked on a laugh. Itachi’s chakra flared subtly in irritation. Sasuke had to bite his tongue to keep from snickering.

      Itachi’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Enough. What is your real name?”

      Sasuke grinned innocently. “Takeshi.”

      Kisame snorted. “Well, Takeshi, you’re a long way from home. Think your team’s looking for you?”

     “Oh, probably,” Sasuke hummed. “But you know how it is. Shinobi life and all.”

     Itachi’s eyes were practically boring into him.

     Sasuke could feel the slow, creeping sense of recognition seeping into Itachi’s expression.

      So he decided it was time to go.

     In an instant, Sasuke disappeared in a burst of speed, reappearing on the rooftop above them.

     Kisame whistled. “Fast little brat.”

     Sasuke smirked. “I gotta be if I want to survive.”

     Itachi’s gaze darkened. Sasuke felt them following as he led them out of the village, keeping his pace just slow enough for them to keep up. Once they reached a clearing, Sasuke finally stopped.

     Kisame let out an amused chuckle. “You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that.”

     Itachi, however, was silent. There was something off about this ‘genin.’ Something familiar.

     And then—

     Sasuke let just a fraction of his chakra slip.

     It was enough.

     Itachi’s eyes widened in shock. The realization hit him like a kunai to the chest. This wasn’t just some brat.

      This was his brother.

      Itachi’s breath hitched. For a fleeting moment, his world tilted, the foundation of everything he thought he knew about his brother shattered in an instant.

     Sasuke… was alive. Not only alive, but standing right in front of him—not with Orochimaru, not twisted into the snake’s puppet, not consumed by a curse mark.

     Itachi’s mind recoiled. He had received the news of Sasuke’s defection years ago. He remembered how his body had gone rigid, how he had stood frozen as the words sunk in.

     “Sasuke Uchiha has left the village.”

     The base of the Akatsuki was nearly reduced to rubble that day.

     He had sworn, without hesitation, that he would kill Orochimaru.

      “If that bastard so much as lays a finger on him—”

     And yet…

     The boy standing before him was not Orochimaru’s apprentice. Sasuke looked nothing like the naive, rage-filled child he had last seen in the streets of Konoha. His hair, once neatly parted, was now long and tied back, with bangs obscuring his face. His ears were pierced, silver glinting in the moonlight. His exposed arms were littered with inked fūinjutsu markings, an intricate system of seals that pulsed with a dormant power.

     There was no headband—not Konoha’s, not anyone’s. And Sasuke’s expression…

     Cold. Detached.

     There was no hatred.

     No fury.

    Just a calm, eerie nothingness.

     Itachi’s fingers curled slightly, a barely perceptible reaction—but Kisame, ever observant, caught it immediately.

     The shark-man grinned. “Well, well, it’s not every day I get to witness a good old-fashioned family reunion.”

     Sasuke’s eyes flickered to him.

     “Family?” he echoed, tilting his head slightly. “That’s an interesting choice of words.”

     Itachi’s gaze sharpened.

     Then—

     The words that followed left him cold.

     “The only Uchiha here is the man standing beside you.”

     A beat of silence.

     Itachi recovered instantly, schooling his features back into their usual blank expression.

      “…Sasuke,” he finally greeted.

     Sasuke blinked. Tilted his head. “Sasuke who?”

     Itachi’s fingers twitched. Kisame burst into laughter.

     “Ohhh, I like him,” the swordsman grinned, crossing his arms. “I didn’t know your little brother had a sense of humor, Itachi.”

     Itachi ignored him. His eyes stayed locked on Sasuke’s, searching for… something. Anything. But Sasuke’s face remained placid, unreadable.

     “Do not play games,” Itachi said, voice even. “You know who you are.”

     Sasuke hummed, looking genuinely thoughtful. Then—he exhaled through his nose.

     “Ah. I see,” he said. “You’re trying to provoke me.”

     Kisame glanced between them, amused. Itachi remained silent.

     “You want me to attack you, don’t you?” Sasuke murmured, rolling his shoulders as if discussing the weather. “I wonder why that is…”

     The voices in his head snickered, supplying endless possibilities.

     Maybe Itachi just liked pain. Maybe he was bored. Maybe he wanted to test him, like he did when Sasuke was seven years old and desperate for his attention.

     Sasuke’s lips curled slightly.

     “You’re no fun,” he finally decided.

     His voice turned bored, detached.

     “Just like the rest of the dead Uchiha.”

     Itachi’s chakra spiked. Kisame let out a low whistle.

      “Oh, this is getting good,” the swordsman chuckled. “I haven’t seen you this riled up in years, Itachi.”

      Sasuke barely acknowledged the remark. Instead, he casually lifted his hand, pressing two fingers against the inked seal on his wrist.

     A puff of smoke.

     A kunai materialized between his fingers, attached to an explosive tag.

     With lazy precision, he twirled it once before catching it.

     “If it’s a fight you want,” he said, his voice smooth, emotionless.

     Then—

     His lips curled into a smirk.

     “Who am I to deny you?”

     The second the kunai left Sasuke’s fingers, the battle began. Itachi moved first. A flicker, a blur—his form vanished in an instant, reappearing atop a tree branch just as the explosive tag detonated.

     The ground trembled. Fire roared. Smoke and debris swallowed the clearing whole.

     But Sasuke had already moved.

     He twisted mid-air, flipping gracefully over a broken log, landing lightly in a crouch. His hands blurred into seals.

     “Katon: Hōsenka no Jutsu!” (Fire Style: Phoenix Sage Fire)

     Small fireballs erupted from his mouth, weaving chaotically through the air. But this wasn’t a simple fire attack. Hidden within each flame were shuriken, their edges gleaming in the firelight.

     Itachi’s eyes flickered, tracking the trajectories. At the last second, he ducked and twisted, evading each projectile with inhuman precision.

     But then—

     Boom.

     A sudden burst of smoke erupted from one of the shuriken. It wasn’t a real weapon. It was a substitution.

     And Sasuke was already there.

     A fist slammed into Itachi’s side, forcing him backward.

     Fast. Too fast.

    And that wasn’t normal.

     Itachi adjusted instantly. He flipped backward, landing on his feet, but his eyes immediately darted over Sasuke’s form.

     The seals. So many seals. They covered his arms, his neck, even his fingers.

     It wasn’t just ink. It was a system. A network.

     And that wasn’t all.

     Beneath the seals, beneath the unorthodox tattoos, were scars.

     Old ones. Thin, sharp lines traced his inner forearms, deliberate and precise.

     A long, jagged scar disappeared under his collar.

     Itachi’s stomach twisted. What the hell had happened to his brother?

     But there was no time to process it.

     Because Sasuke was laughing.

     Not a loud, manic laugh.

     A low, breathy chuckle.

     Like he was enjoying this.

     Like he was entertaining himself.

     Kisame grinned.

     “Well, well,” the shark-man mused, leaning casually against Samehada. “Didn’t take you for a berserker, kid.”

      Sasuke barely acknowledged him. Instead, he cracked his knuckles, tilting his head as he studied Itachi.

     “Are you going to fight back?” he mused.

     A flicker of chakra leaked from his body—barely anything, but enough for Itachi to sense it.

     “Chuunin-level.”

     That was a lie. No Chuunin moved like that. Sasuke was deliberately suppressing his power.

     Why?

     For fun?

     For strategy?

     Itachi’s eyes narrowed. It didn’t matter. He had to end this quickly.

     He blurred forward, his hand lashing out—but Sasuke was already moving. With a twist of his fingers, he activated another seal.

     Smoke exploded from his shoulder. And suddenly—

     Dozens of kunai shot out in every direction.

     “A trap seal?”

     Itachi dodged instinctively, weaving through the projectiles. Sasuke used the distraction to close the distance again.

     He lunged.

     His movements were erratic.

     Unpredictable.

     Wild.

     He didn’t fight like a shinobi.

     He fought like someone who had survived.

     A street brawler. A madman. A berserker.

     And worst of all—

     It was working.

     Sasuke pivoted mid-attack, switching styles on a whim. One moment he was using taijutsu. The next—

     His fingers blurred into seals.

     “Raiton: Sandāransu!” (Lightning Style: Thunder Lance)

     A spear of crackling lightning erupted from his palm. Itachi barely had time to dodge as the spear tore through the air, carving a deep trench into the earth.

     “A pure lightning construct.”

     No Sharingan.

     No Uchiha clan techniques.

     Only sheer, raw skill.

     And Itachi had no idea where Sasuke had learned any of it.

     Sasuke didn’t let up. He followed immediately, switching tactics again. His hand slapped another tattoo on his wrist. A cloud of smoke exploded—

     And suddenly, he was wielding a short sword.

     He lashed out, blade flashing, forcing Itachi to parry with a kunai. The impact sent a shockwave through the air.

     “Strong.”

     Itachi’s muscles strained slightly.

     “He’s fast. Strong. Unpredictable.”

     And worst of all—

     Sasuke was grinning. Like this was a game. Like this was fun.

     Itachi’s stomach churned.

     This wasn’t the same little brother he left behind. This was something else.

     Something broken.

     Something dangerous.

     Itachi’s grip tightened. This needed to end. Now.

     Itachi’s fingers twitched.

     A flicker of chakra, a shift in stance—

     And then, the Genjutsu activated.

     A simple one.

     Subtle. Barely noticeable.

     Sasuke’s vision blurred for a fraction of a second.

     But that was all Itachi needed.

     A kunai was already aimed at his throat.

     Except—

     “Tch.”

     The moment the Genjutsu took hold, Sasuke’s entire body seized. Not in paralysis. Not in fear.

     But in pure, unhinged amusement.

     His chakra flared violently, erratically—

     And then, it was gone.

     The illusion shattered instantly.

     Not dispelled—

     Overwritten.

     Itachi’s eyes widened. “What?”

    Sasuke had a countermeasure. A seal, woven deep into his chakra network. A self-inflicted system—something that automatically broke Genjutsu.

     Itachi didn’t even have time to react because Sasuke was already moving. Fast. Faster than before.

     His body twisted, contorted, danced through the air. Itachi barely managed to shift his weight before—

     “Raiton: Ākusutoraido!” (Lightning Style: Arc Stride)

     A sharp burst of electricity exploded beneath Sasuke’s feet, propelling him forward like a bullet.

     Itachi deflected the first strike—

     Then the second—

     The third grazed his shoulder.

     The fourth—

     Too late.

     Sasuke’s palm slammed against his chest.

     And then—

     Pain.

     A sharp, searing pulse of electricity tore through Itachi’s body, making his muscles spasm involuntarily. For half a second, his nerves misfired. His vision blurred. His breath hitched. 

     And in that half-second, Sasuke had already taken advantage. He flipped backward, twisting mid-air—

     And slammed his foot into Itachi’s jaw.

     A brutal axe-kick.

    Itachi staggered, barely catching himself before skidding back.

    The world tilted—

    His ears rang—

    And Sasuke—

    Sasuke was laughing. A soft, breathless chuckle, like he was entertaining himself.

    Kisame, from the sidelines, let out a low whistle.

    “Damn, kid,” he mused. “Didn’t take you for a sadist.”

     Sasuke grinned, his eyes gleaming.

     Wild. Unhinged. Dangerous.

     “Sadist?” he echoed, tilting his head. “No, no…”

     He flexed his fingers. Lightning snapped at his fingertips.

     “It’s just fun breaking things.”

     Itachi’s heartbeat steadied. His vision cleared. His face returned to neutrality.

    No more games. No more testing.

    If Sasuke wanted a fight—

   He’d get one. With zero hesitation, Itachi moved. Faster. Sharper. His kunai clashed against Sasuke’s sword, the force sending a shockwave through the clearing.

     Sasuke grunted. He’d expected a reaction. But this was—

     Different.

     Suddenly, Itachi wasn’t holding back.

     Speed. Power. Precision.

     Sasuke could barely keep up.

     His sword blurred—parry, block, counter—too slow.

     Itachi was already two steps ahead. A knee slammed into Sasuke’s ribs. A kunai nicked his cheek. A well-placed palm struck his diaphragm, knocking the air from his lungs.

     Damn it. This wasn’t the same as before. This was an entirely different level. He had to think fast.

     He let go of his sword. It vanished in a puff of smoke.

     Instead, his fingers flicked.

     Itachi’s eyes darted.

     Hand seals?

     No.

     A trigger.

     One of the tattoos.

     Then—

     Smoke.

     Thick, cloying, overwhelming.

     But not normal smoke.

     Poison.

     Itachi backed off immediately, but—

     Too late.

     Sasuke was already behind him.

     A sharp, precise strike to the back of the neck—

     And for one moment, Itachi’s vision blurred.

     A stimulant poison, but enough to disrupt his senses. Not lethal. Not dangerous. Just an  inconvenience.

     But Sasuke was betting on that inconvenience. Because by the time Itachi had realigned his senses—

     Sasuke was already in the air.

    Lightning crackled around his fingers.

    “Chidori Nagashi.” (Lightning Release: Lightning Current)

    Not a full Chidori.

    Something different. Spread out.

    A field of shocking force that expanded in an instant.

    Itachi’s muscles locked.

    Only for half a second.

    But that was enough.

    Because Sasuke—

    Was already above him.

    Lightning condensed.

    A dragon formed.

    The clouds churned.

    The sky darkened.

    Thunder roared.

    And then—

    “Kirin.”

    Itachi’s eyes widened.

    The heavens split apart. A spear of lightning descended.

    Fast. Brutal. Absolute.

    Itachi barely had time to react before—

    The world exploded in white.

     Itachi awoke to the soft crackling of a fire and the distant sound of laughter. His body ached, but the pain was dull—muted, as if someone had taken the time to patch up his wounds. The air smelled of damp stone and burning wood, the shadows of the flames flickering against the jagged walls of what appeared to be a cave.

     His vision adjusted as he pushed himself upright, his fingers ghosting over the bandages wrapped around his torso. He was definitely injured, but… alive.

     His gaze shifted toward the campfire. There, seated comfortably, were Sasuke and Kisame. The two were deep in conversation, exchanging stories like old drinking buddies.

     “—and I swear,” Sasuke was saying, casually tossing a small kunai in the air and catching it effortlessly, “Yagura didn’t even know what hit him. Just a little lightning, a little genjutsu, and down he went.”

     Kisame howled with laughter, slapping his knee. “You’re telling me you took down a damn Kage with a parlor trick?”

     “It’s not my fault he was already compromised,” Sasuke smirked. “Honestly I was just wrapping up someone else’s mess. Imagine my surprise when I found out he’d been under genjutsu the whole time.”

     Itachi’s eyes widened. His breath hitched.

     Genjutsu? Yagura? Sasuke had uncovered that truth on his own?

     As if sensing his growing dread, Sasuke glanced back and waved at him, looking entirely too amused.

    “Ah, you’re awake,” he said, voice laced with mock cheer. “Did you enjoy our little spar?”

     Itachi ignored the taunt, sitting up slowly. His muscles protested, but he barely noticed. His mind was still fixated on Sasuke’s words.

     Instead, he analyzed. This wasn’t the same boy he’d left behind. This wasn’t a reckless, rage-driven child chasing vengeance. This Sasuke was something else. Detached. Sharp. Calculated. And most alarmingly… in control.

     Taking a breath, Itachi masked his concern. “That last move… What was it?”

     Sasuke smirked. “Kirin.”

     He twirled the kunai in his fingers.

     “Designed to take nuisances out in one strike.”

     Kisame let out a low whistle. “Damn. You even name your own techniques?”

     Sasuke shrugged. “I guess you could say I’m a bit of a pioneer.”

     He tapped his temple. “Me and the voices tend to get creative when we’re in a bind.”

     Itachi stiffened. The voices?

     He didn’t get a chance to ask. Kisame beat him to it.

     “Seems like being a prodigy runs in the family, huh?”

     Sasuke let out a laugh. A sharp, dry thing.

    “Prodigy? Nah.” He waved off the thought. “I’m just someone who had to climb my way up to survive.”

     Then, with a pointed glance at Itachi, he smirked.

     “Unlike the Uchiha clan, I don’t rely on some fancy little eye technique to do all the work for me.”

     The jab was sharp. Intentional.

     Itachi’s fingers tightened against his knee.

     Sasuke had no respect for the Sharingan. For the Uchiha. For his own lineage.

     Itachi inhaled slowly. “You were lucky in our fight.”

     Sasuke let out a short snort. “I have the misfortune of being underestimated by my opponents. That’s not luck—that’s just stupidity on their part.”

     He leaned back, stretching his arms lazily. “I can’t even count how many times I’ve seen the same shocked expressions, but the sword-chest seal trick is definitely one of my top five.”

     Kisame perked up. “Sword-chest seal?”

     Sasuke grinned. “Oh, it’s a fun one. Here, I’ll show you.”

     Before Itachi could protest, Sasuke pulled down his shirt, revealing a large seal tattooed on his sternum. Then, with a flick of his fingers—

     A katana burst out of his chest.

     Itachi’s breath caught. Kisame, meanwhile, was dying of laughter.

     “Oh, that’s sick,” Kisame wheezed. “You just store a whole sword in your chest?!”

     Sasuke swung the weapon around playfully. “It gets a reaction every time.”

     Itachi, however, was horrified.

     Sasuke had tattooed seals into his own body. He had mutilated himself and he acted like it was nothing.

     Kisame leaned forward. “So, do you actually know any kenjutsu or are you just hoarding swords for fun?”

     Sasuke shrugged. “I know the basics, but it’s not really my thing.”

     And just like that, the two continued their exchange, chatting like old friends.

     Itachi sat in disbelief. It was surreal—watching his brother sitting casually by a fire, laughing with Kisame like they weren’t mortal enemies. Like Itachi wasn’t even there.

     But he was.

     And he had questions.

     Finally, he broke his silence.

     “…Why did you leave Konoha?”

     The air shifted. 

     Kisame’s laughter died down.

     Sasuke stilled.

     For a moment, there was nothing.

     Then—

     Sasuke sighed.

     Tossing the sword aside, he rested his elbows on his knees.

     “I had no reason to be there anymore.”

     Itachi’s stomach dropped. “…No reason?”

     Sasuke tilted his head. His expression was unreadable.

     “Konoha didn’t give me anything,” he said simply. “I had no family. No purpose. No future. I was just… there.”

     Itachi felt his chest tighten. “Naruto. Sakura. Kakashi—”

     “They had their own lives,” Sasuke cut in. “And I was never really part of them, was I?”

     Itachi opened his mouth—

     But nothing came out.

     Sasuke smiled, but there was no humor in it. “I left because staying meant nothing.”

     The words rang loud. Cold. Final.

     And Itachi… had no argument.

     The air shifted. Sasuke turned, giving Itachi his full attention. The easy, almost playful air from before was gone—replaced by something heavy. A weight pressed against the atmosphere, coiling like a storm about to break.

      Sasuke’s dark eyes bore into his brother, the firelight flickering against his face.

     “Do you remember our last encounter?” he asked, his voice cold, unwavering.

     Itachi remained silent for a moment before nodding.

     Sasuke’s fingers twitched at his side. “And do you remember what you said to me that day?”

     Another pause. Then—

     Itachi spoke. “You lack hatred.”

     Sasuke’s face darkened.

     In a swift, fluid motion, he flung a kunai straight at Itachi’s face. Itachi barely had time to tilt his head, the blade whizzing past his cheek, cutting a thin line against his skin before embedding itself into the stone wall behind him.

     The cave was silent. Then, Sasuke took a slow step forward, his voice dropping to something low. Dangerous. “Do you know what you did to me, Itachi?”

     His tone wasn’t accusatory. It was factual.

     “You murdered our entire family. Our whole clan.”

     Another step.

    “You tortured me. Twice.”

    The fire crackled. Itachi said nothing.

    “You broke my arm. Then you kept beating it into my head that I was weak, useless, a burden.”

     Sasuke smiled, but there was nothing remotely human about it. “Shall I repeat exactly what you told me back at the inn?”

     Itachi remained still. His stomach turned.

     “Pathetic little brother,” Sasuke murmured, his voice an almost-perfect imitation. “You’re weak. Why are you weak? It’s because you lack hatred.”

     He tilted his head.

     “You wanted me to hate you, didn’t you? Congratulations. You got your wish.”

     Itachi’s fingers curled into a fist.

     “But that wasn’t enough,” Sasuke continued. His breath hitched. “Because, if that wasn’t bad enough—”

     His hand shot out, yanking up the sleeve of his left arm. Itachi’s eyes widened.

     The skin of Sasuke’s forearm was scarred. Not with battle wounds—no, these were self-inflicted. Long, jagged remnants of deep lacerations, old wounds that had healed but left their ugly marks.

     Sasuke’s expression didn’t waver.

     “Orochimaru had branded me days before I saw you again,” he said, voice eerily calm. “And after what happened in the Forest of Death—after what happened with you—I finally snapped.”

     He slowly traced his fingers along one of the deeper scars, his gaze empty.

     “For two whole months, I kept doing this.”

     Itachi felt his chest tighten. Kisame, for once, was silent.

     “Maybe it was anger. Maybe it was frustration. Maybe I just wanted to feel something,” Sasuke continued. “It didn’t matter. When I wasn’t doing this, I was starving myself. When I wasn’t starving myself, I was going days without sleep.”

     He let the sleeve fall back down. His gaze locked onto Itachi’s.

     “My team eventually caught on. They tried to intervene.”

     Itachi’s throat was dry. “…What did you do?”

     Sasuke’s expression didn’t change. “I tried to kill them.”

    The fire crackled.

    “I burned our childhood home down with a Fireball Jutsu.”

     Itachi felt the words like a blade to the gut.

     Sasuke continued relentlessly.

     “But that wasn’t even the worst part.” His fingers tightened into a fist. “Because then the curse mark activated. And I don’t remember much of what happened next.”

     His voice lowered.

     “But I do remember one thing.”

     The cave felt smaller. The air thicker.

     Sasuke lifted his chin slightly, eyes sharp, void of hesitation.

     “I tried to kill myself.”

     Itachi’s entire body locked up.

     “I grabbed a kunai and I tried to drive it into my neck.”

     Itachi’s chest felt tight. His pulse pounded against his ears. His mind was screaming. He wanted to speak, but—

     Sasuke cut him off. “I spent months in the hospital.”

     He lifted his kimono collar, revealing a faint scar where the sealed curse mark was.

     “I was stripped of my Genin status. Put under constant surveillance. Forced to sit still while everyone else moved on with their lives.”

     His jaw clenched.

     “And do you know what that did to me, Itachi?”

     His voice dropped.

     “It broke me.”

     Kisame exhaled sharply, running a hand over his face. Even he looked uncomfortable.

     Sasuke’s lips curled. “I thought there was nothing left for me in this world. Nothing.”

     Itachi felt like he couldn’t breathe.

     “I have no clan. No family. No friends.” Sasuke tapped his temple. “Just these voices in my head that don’t know when to shut the fuck up.”

     Itachi’s fingers trembled. He had thought—

     He had thought keeping Sasuke in the dark would protect him. That by making him hate him, Sasuke would grow stronger. But this—

     This was not what he had intended. He had left his brother in ruins.

     And Sasuke knew it.

     Because at that moment, he smiled. A slow, bitter thing.

     “It’s funny, really,” he murmured. “You told me I lacked hatred.”

     His gaze sharpened.

     “But, brother—”

     His chakra flared.

     “I don’t think I ever had anything but.”

     Itachi’s heart was breaking. Each word from Sasuke cut deeper than any blade.

     This wasn’t the righteous, vengeful fury of younger brother seeking retribution. It was something worse.

     Sasuke didn’t hate him.

     He pitied him.

    Sasuke turned his back, shoulders relaxed, as if this entire confrontation had been nothing but a mild inconvenience.

     “I honestly can’t imagine being in your place,” he murmured. “Spending your life carrying out orders, playing the perfect little soldier, the perfect obedient son, the prodigy of the Uchiha…”

    The fire flickered. Itachi sat frozen, unable to tear his gaze away from his younger brother.

    “And to think,” Sasuke continued, his voice taking on an almost amused tone. “I wasted so much of my time trying to live up to their expectations. The Uchiha. The village. All of them.”

    His hand flexed at his side.

     “I spent years thinking I had to be something more. That if I worked hard enough, if I became strong enough, I’d finally be enough.”

     A bitter chuckle.

    “But that’s the joke, isn’t it? No matter how much  you give, it’s never enough.”

    Itachi wanted to speak, to say something, anything, but the words refused to come.

    “Eventually, I just stopped caring,” Sasuke continued. “I stopped worrying about how the village saw me. I stopped trying to be what everyone wanted me to be. And do you know what happened?”

     He glanced over his shoulder, a lazy smirk curling at his lips.

     “I started enjoying life.”

     Itachi stared. Sasuke—his Sasuke—was smiling. Not in hatred. Not in anger. But in something genuinely content. Then—

     Sasuke sighed. “It’s a shame you won’t get to experience that.”

     Itachi’s body tensed.

     Sasuke’s gaze slid back to the fire. “You don’t have much time left, after all.”

     Itachi’s breath hitched. “What—”

     Sasuke cut him off. “You’re dying.”

     The words were simple. Cold. Final.

     Itachi’s eyes widened.

     Sasuke glanced at him, unimpressed. “What, did you think I wouldn’t figure it out?” He crossed his arms, tilting his head. “I’d say you have a few months left, give or take.”

     The fire crackled, the only sound in the suffocating silence.

     Sasuke took a step forward, peering down at Itachi with a detached expression. “And if that wasn’t bad enough, you’re also going blind.”

     Itachi felt something in his chest tighten. Sasuke had seen through everything. He knew. He knew about the illness, the strain, the inevitable end that was creeping closer by the day.

     “I—” Itachi started.

     Sasuke cut him off again. “There’s nothing left for us to talk about.”

     Itachi stiffened.

     “I only spared you because I pitied you,” Sasuke continued, tone casual, like he was discussing the weather. “You’re already dying. What’s the point in killing a man who’s already doomed?”

     Itachi flinched.

     Sasuke smiled. “A long time ago, I learned that revenge is best served naturally.”

     Itachi exhaled sharply, trying to steel himself against the weight of his own actions. His own consequences.

     Sasuke turned away. “I want you to live, Itachi. I want you to live out the rest of your pathetic life thinking about everything you’ve done.”

     His chakra flickered—dark and unreadable.

    “That, in itself, is enough punishment.”

    Itachi’s hands trembled.

    The silence stretched thick and suffocating as Sasuke moved toward the fire. He bent down, fingers curling around the hilt of the sword that he had thrown onto the floor earlier.  With a practiced motion, he pressed the blade against his chest, the inked seal activating.

     In a blur of chakra, the sword vanished. Sealed back into his skin.

     Sasuke straightened, rolling his shoulders before shifting his gaze to Kisame. “Keep me updated on his condition.”

     Kisame hummed, watching the exchange with veiled interest. “You got it, kid.”

     Sasuke exhaled through his nose. “If it gets worse, I’ll send you the coordinates of a medic-nin I know.”

     Kisame’s lips twitched. “So thoughtful.”

     Sasuke smirked.

     Then—

     Without another word, he turned toward the cave’s entrance and walked away. He didn’t look back. Itachi didn’t stop him. He couldn’t stop him.

     Because for the first time in his life—

     Itachi realized he had lost.

Chapter Text

     The tavern was warm, dimly lit, and lively. Men and women laughed, drank, and gambled away their earnings, while a bard strummed a shamisen in the corner, humming an old folk tune. It was the kind of place where mercenaries, travelers, and criminals alike could mingle without consequence.

     Sasuke sat at the far end of the bar, a cup of warm sake in hand. For the first time in a while he wasn’t working. No bounties, no missions, no constant paranoia about when his next fight would be, just him, a drink, and the irony of his situation.

     He had spent years obsessing over revenge, trying to meet expectations, trying to be something. Now? Now he had nothing to prove.

     And it was glorious.

     Sasuke lifted the cup to his lips, taking a slow sip. The sake burned down his throat, but it was a pleasant kind of burn.

     He didn’t regret leaving Itachi behind in that cave. Not one bit. He had crushed whatever lingering attachment he had left for the man and he felt nothing.

     Itachi was nothing more than a sad, pathetic man at the end of his life, a man with months left to live—if he was lucky.

     Sasuke sighed, tapping his fingers against the cup. Hopefully Kisame would drag Itachi to a medic-nin, not because he cared, of course.

    No—he just wanted the man to live long enough so they could fight again. Just long enough so he could humiliate him one more time.

     A smirk tugged at Sasuke’s lips.

     The memory of Itachi’s shocked expression when he unleashed Kirin was something he wished he could have immortalized. The way Itachi’s eyes widened in horror, the split second before the lightning tore through the sky.

     Sasuke snorted, shaking his head. That alone had made the entire trip worth it.

     He took another sip, letting the warmth spread through his chest. Yeah…Maybe taking some time off wasn’t so bad.

     The tavern door creaked open, and Sasuke barely lifted his gaze from his drink. But then—

     A familiar voice.

     “I’m starving! Can we just get some ramen already?”

     Sasuke’s grip on his cup tightened.

     Naruto.

     “Calm down, brat,” another voice grumbled. This one was older, gruffer. “I’m here to meet someone.”

     “Oh yeah? I bet you’re just here to hit on the ladies.”

     Jiraiya neither confirmed nor denied that accusation. Naruto huffed before stomping toward the bar, plopping down on the stool right beside Sasuke. The idiot didn’t even look at him.

     “Water,” Naruto mumbled to the bartender, crossing his arms. His foot tapped impatiently against the wooden floor. “At this rate I’m never gonna get Sasuke back from Orochimaru…”

     Sasuke took a slow sip of his drink. Orochimaru again. Where the hell did this notion come from? It was almost amusing how easily people believed that he of all people would run to that snake. Sasuke could already imagine Orochimaru milking that lie for all it was worth.

     “Tch,” he scoffed internally, swirling the sake in his cup.

     If he were even remotely recognizable, Naruto or Jiraiya would have spotted him immediately.

     But they didn’t.

     Sasuke tilted his cup slightly, peering at his reflection in the liquid. Had he really changed that much? It had been so long since he had seen his own face, let alone a mirror. The last time he had—

     He had looked too much like Itachi.

     A shadow crossed his expression. Damn these Uchiha genes.

     He frowned at his reflection before downing the rest of his drink. Naruto let out a miserable sigh, still pouting. Sasuke sighed. Out of pity, he ordered a bowl of food for him. When the bartender set the meal in front of Naruto, the blond blinked in shock.

     “Huh?” He turned toward Sasuke—who kept his head down, voice indistinguishable. “Did you—?”

     “It’s not a big deal,” Sasuke replied smoothly, waving it off.

     Naruto beamed. “Thanks, man!”

     Sasuke leaned forward slightly, putting on a facade of concern.

     “I couldn’t help but overhear your… dilemma,” he said.

     Naruto’s smile faltered. His expression darkened.

     “…Yeah.” He stirred his water absently. “It’s about my friend.”

     Sasuke listened.

     “A lot happened in just a few months,” Naruto admitted, voice quiet. “And then one day, Sasuke just… snapped.”

     Sasuke’s gaze flickered toward Naruto.

     Naruto exhaled shakily. “I don’t know if it was because of that snake bastard branding him with a curse mark or if it was because of his brother, but—”

     Naruto swallowed hard.

     “—it messed him up.”

     Sasuke remained silent. His fingers absently traced the rim of his cup.

     Naruto clenched his fists.

     “…He tried to kill himself,” Naruto whispered.

      Sasuke’s heartbeat stilled.

     “Right in front of me. Right in front of our whole team.” Naruto’s hands shook. “I couldn’t stop him.”

     The warmth of the tavern suddenly felt too hot. Sasuke stared into his empty cup, his face remained impassive. But the voices in his head? They were screaming.

     Naruto stirred his water again, his eyes clouded with something far heavier than the usual frustration he wore on his sleeve. “…He almost died in our sensei’s arms.”

     Sasuke’s fingers stilled.

     “If it weren’t for Lady Tsunade…” Naruto swallowed. “I—I don’t know what I would’ve done. She saved his life and I’ll be forever grateful to her for that.”

     Sasuke’s eyes widened. He had always assumed that he and Naruto had nothing more than a bitter rivalry. That their constant clashes were just two headstrong idiots trying to prove who was better.

     But this? Naruto… saw him as a brother.

     A flicker of something ancient and aching curled in his chest. He thought back to long nights spent training together, sparring until their bodies gave out, to stealing snacks with Naruto while Sakura scolded them, to Kakashi’s lazy drawl as he read his pervy books but still somehow had all the answers. 

     Team Seven. That team… had been more of a family to him than his actual blood family ever had and yet he never realized it until now.

     Naruto let out a hollow laugh. “I get it. I feel bad for him, y’know? Losing everything… But I didn’t think that when I left to train with Pervy Sage the bastard would just get up and leave and for Orochimaru no less.”

     Sasuke’s heart cracked. He had left them behind. He was so caught up in finding himself, in reclaiming control, that he abandoned the only people who ever truly cared. And yet… If he had stayed in Konoha any longer, would he have survived or would he have just deteriorated further?

     Sasuke clenched his jaw. He was in a rough place.

     A part of him wanted to go back, wanted to sit beneath the Hokage Monument and laugh with Naruto again. Wanted to hear Kakashi’s wisdom, endure Sakura’s lectures, and be part of Team Seven once more. But—

     Another part of him…He had tasted freedom. He had seen the world beyond Konoha. Had spent years carving his own path, fighting, surviving, living on his own terms. Could he really give that up?

     Sasuke exhaled. Then he noticed it—

     Naruto was crying.

     “I just—” Naruto’s voice wavered. “I just love my friend, y’know? And I wanna bring him home. Safe and sound. Konoha—Team Seven—it’s not the same without him.”

     Something inside Sasuke twisted. Slowly, he lifted a hand and patted Naruto on the head. Naruto blinked through his tears, startled.

     “…I think you’ll bring him home,” Sasuke murmured.

     Naruto sniffed. “How can you be so sure?”

     Sasuke smirked faintly. “Just be patient.”

     Naruto studied him, then nodded. He wiped his face with the sleeve of his jacket, taking a deep breath. And then, just like that, he was Naruto again. Bright. Loud. Unbreakable.

     “You’ll see!” Naruto suddenly declared, slamming a fist on the counter. “I’ll bring Sasuke home! And I’ll become the greatest Hokage ever!”

     Sasuke snorted. “That’s such a childish dream.”

     Naruto scowled. “Oh yeah? Then what’s yours?”

     Sasuke shrugged, leaning back in his chair.

     “I already accomplished my childhood dream,” he said simply. “Now… I just want to travel the world. Enjoy my freedom.”

     Naruto huffed. “Well, there are a lot of good ramen shops outside Konoha… but none of them are as good as Ichiraku’s.”

     Sasuke gave him a blank look.

     Naruto grinned. “You should come back to Konoha with me someday and try it for yourself!”

     Sasuke deadpanned. “I don’t exactly have the best reputation in the hidden villages.”

     Naruto pouted.

     Sasuke sighed, but he couldn’t stop the corner of his lips from twitching upward. Even after all this time, Naruto was still Naruto.

     Jiraiya’s footsteps were heavy as he approached, his towering presence looming over the bar counter. His face, usually carefree, was unreadable.

     “Naruto,” he said, voice even. “It’s time to go.”

     Naruto groaned. “Aww, come on, Pervy Sage! I was just starting to enjoy myself!”

     “Too bad.” Jiraiya’s gaze lingered on Sasuke. Too long.

     Sasuke’s fingers flexed against his cup. Jiraiya knew or at the very least suspected. 

     Naruto, oblivious to the silent battle of wills, turned to Sasuke. “Hey, what’s your name, anyway?”

     Sasuke’s lips curled into something amused. “Weasel.”

     Naruto blinked. “…Huh?”

     Jiraiya’s eyes narrowed.

     “That’s enough,” the Sannin cut in. “We’re leaving.”

     Naruto frowned but obeyed, pushing away from the counter.

     “Thanks for the food, Weasel-guy!” he called over his shoulder.

     Sasuke merely lifted his cup in response, watching as Jiraiya placed a firm hand on Naruto’s shoulder and steered him toward the exit. Their eyes met one last time. A challenge. A warning. A recognition. Then they were gone.

     Sasuke sighed, rolling his eyes before signaling the bartender for another drink.

     Outside, the cold air bit against Naruto’s skin as he shoved his hands into his pockets.

     “What was that for?” he grumbled.

      Jiraiya didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he pulled out a small, worn book. The bingo book.

     “You really shouldn’t go around venting your heart out to random strangers,” Jiraiya said at last, flipping through the pages.

     Naruto groaned. “But the Weasel guy seemed nice! He even bought me food!”

     Jiraiya snorted.

     “Oh yeah?” He turned the book around, revealing a page with a dark silhouette and blood-red letters. “Take a look.”

     Naruto’s eyes widened. The words burned into his brain.

     “Weasel” — Notorious bounty hunter. S-Rank Ninja.

      Naruto’s jaw dropped. “W-Wait… you mean—that guy is an S-Rank ninja?!”

     Jiraiya nodded. “Rumored to be one of the most efficient bounty hunters in the underground network. He doesn’t pick sides. He just tracks, hunts, and kills.”

     Naruto’s throat went dry. He thought back to the casual conversation, the easy way the man had spoken to him.

     “But—” Naruto’s hands balled into fists. “He didn’t seem that bad…”

     Jiraiya sighed. “That’s how the most dangerous ones operate.”

     Naruto swallowed hard. Then a new horror dawned on him. “…What if that guy goes after Sasuke?”

     Jiraiya gave him a sidelong glance. Naruto’s stomach twisted. He didn’t know why, but a creeping suspicion itched at the back of his mind. Something about Weasel’s presence felt… off. Like he knew something Naruto didn’t.

     Sasuke left the tavern shortly after Naruto and Jiraiya had gone, stepping into the cool night air. The scent of rain lingered from an earlier storm, mixing with the aroma of damp earth and charred wood from the village’s chimneys.

     He shoved his hands into his cloak pockets, his footsteps silent against the dirt road. This place was too close to Konoha for comfort. He’d lingered longer than he should have, and now Jiraiya was onto him. That was a problem.

     Jiraiya wasn’t just some pervy old sage wasting away on research for his smutty books. He had a reputation. A monster in his own right.

     In the underground, Jiraiya’s name was spoken in the same hushed tones as the worst of them. He was unpredictable, cunning, and dangerously well-connected. If he’d gotten even a whiff of Sasuke’s true identity, he’d never let it go.

     Sasuke clicked his tongue in irritation. So far, he’d managed to keep his past buried. His true name, his origins, everything. Only Itachi and Kisame had seen through the cracks.

     Would they inform the rest of the Akatsuki? No. Itachi wouldn’t want to broadcast his humiliating defeat. And Kisame?

     Sasuke wasn’t sure. The shark-man was an enigma, loyal to entertainment and carnage more than any particular ideology.

     Still, Sasuke wondered if Kisame had actually dragged Itachi to that doctor. Not that he cared.

     He exhaled through his nose, his mind already shifting to the bigger picture. Too many variables were in play.

     He had already achieved his childhood dream of confronting Itachi. The revenge he’d spent years cultivating had been satisfied.

      But now? Now he had a new purpose.

     The Akatsuki. One by one, he’d weed them out.

     Itachi was the easy part. He’d been dying anyway. Killing him outright would have been a waste.

     The real challenges lay ahead. Kisame.

     Sasuke grimaced. The difference in their raw power was like night and day. The man was a beast, his chakra reserves like an endless ocean. Going up against him directly would be suicide.

     And then there were the others. He had yet to meet them in person, but their names haunted the bingo books.

• Kakuzu of the Five Hearts
• The Immortal, Hidan
• The Terrorist Bomber, Deidara 
• Akasuna no Sasori

     And who knew how many undocumented members lurked in the shadows? Hell, Orochimaru had once been one of them, and that knowledge wasn’t even public yet.

     Sasuke smirked to himself. He was playing a dangerous game. But then again he quite frankly didn’t care. As long as he was free—free from villages, free from clans, free from orders—nothing else mattered.

     The voices in his head, usually so eager to mock him, were silent, or rather, for once, they were supportive.

     “Not a bad plan, kid.”

     “Revenge is good and all, but wiping out an entire terrorist organization? Now that’s entertainment.”

     Sasuke deadpanned. “You’re a bunch of assholes.”

     “And you’re not?”

     “…Fair point.”

     Sighing, he pulled out a map from a storage seal on his arm. The parchment unfurled, revealing an intricate web of roads, borders, and potential hunting grounds. His next destination? The Land of Fire’s remote mountain region.

     It was time to visit the Ninneko Tribe.

     If he was going to go after monsters, he needed allies and the ancient, elusive cat summons—led by the powerful Nekomata—would be a damn good place to start.

     By the time Sasuke reached the Ninneko Tribe’s castle, the early morning mist still clung to the mountain slopes, weaving through the gnarled trees like silent phantoms. The fortress itself loomed ahead, its feline-shaped structure carved into the rock face.

     Sasuke let out a quiet huff. A cat-shaped castle. The irony wasn’t lost on him.

     He adjusted his cloak and strode toward the entrance, but before he could take another step, a blur of fur and claws dropped in front of him. Two Ninneko warriors—large, bipedal felines adorned in traditional shinobi garb—blocked his path. Their ears twitched, their slitted eyes glowing with suspicion.

     “State your business, outsider,” one of them growled.

     Sasuke crossed his arms, unfazed. He had experience dealing with the Ninneko Tribe.

     When he was a child, he and Itachi had come here often, collecting paw prints for the Uchiha Clan’s Paw Encyclopedia. Sasuke had never managed to get Nekomata’s, though. Of course, Itachi had.

     The memory made his jaw tighten, but he pushed it aside. This time was different. He wasn’t here for a childish collection mission.

     “I’m here to see Nekomata,” Sasuke said evenly. “I wish to strike a deal with him.”

     The Ninneko warriors exchanged wary glances. “And why should we let you in?”

     “Because my name is Sasuke Uchiha.”

     The moment the words left his mouth, the entire atmosphere shifted. The guards’ ears flattened slightly, their tails flicking with hesitation.

     “The Uchiha whelp?” one of them muttered. “The one who went to Orochimaru?”

     Sasuke’s expression darkened. “I have no association with that disgusting abomination of a human being nor do I wish to be roped in with his filth.”

     The guards stared at him for a long moment before nodding. “…Very well. The Uchiha Clan and the Ninneko Tribe have long-standing ties and we will continue to honor them. You may enter.”

     Sasuke gave a curt nod in thanks before stepping past them, making his way deep into the fortress. The inner chamber of Nekomata’s lair was dimly lit, the scent of incense and aged parchment heavy in the air. Massive tapestries, depicting stories of past battles, adorned the stone walls and at the center of it all, sprawled upon a lavish raised platform, was Nekomata.

     The massive feline stretched, his tail flicking as his piercing golden eyes cracked open, locking onto Sasuke with mild amusement.

     “What’s this?” the great beast rumbled, his voice deep and velvety. “A young, unripe Uchiha stepping into my den?”

     Sasuke didn’t waste time. “I want a summoning contract.”

     Nekomata’s whiskers twitched.

     “Do you, now?” His lazy gaze sharpened. “And why should I grant it to you?”

     “I already assumed you wouldn’t,” Sasuke said bluntly. “That’s why I came to strike a deal.”

     Now, Nekomata was intrigued. The enormous cat slowly sat up, his tail curling behind him. “A deal, you say? Do tell.”

     Sasuke’s voice remained steady. “We fight. If I win, you give me the summoning contract.”

     Nekomata let out a low chuckle. “And if you lose?”

     Sasuke met his gaze without hesitation. “Then I’ll leave your lands and never return.”

     The chamber was silent for a long moment. Then, Nekomata’s lips curled into a sharp-toothed grin.

     “…Very well, Uchiha.” His claws gleamed as he flexed them. “Let’s see if you’re worthy.”

     The moment the agreement was sealed, Sasuke’s vision blurred. The walls of Nekomata’s chamber melted away, dissolving into an eerie, endless void of shifting shadows and glowing eyes.

     A genjutsu. Sasuke stood on what seemed like thin air, surrounded by thousands of feline silhouettes—all watching him with silent, predatory hunger. The space around him distorted, a chilling whisper creeping into his ears.

     “Sleep, little Uchiha.”

     But Sasuke had spent years sharpening his mind against illusions. With a sharp flare of his chakra, the oppressive darkness shattered like glass.

     The chamber snapped back into place, Nekomata still sprawled on his platform. The giant cat let out a deep hum of amusement. “Hmph. So the whelp has some bite.”

      Then he lunged. A blur of black fur and sharpened claws came crashing down on Sasuke. He barely had time to twist out of the way, flipping back as Nekomata’s attack splintered the stone floor beneath them.

     Sasuke landed smoothly, already in motion—his own form blurring as he dashed forward, engaging in a lightning-fast exchange of taijutsu. Nekomata moved with raw ferocity and precision, every strike a mix of brute strength and agility. Sasuke countered each attack, his movements smooth, controlled—his training evident in every block and counterstrike.

     A clawed swipe narrowly missed his throat. Sasuke caught the offending limb, using Nekomata’s momentum to twist and send him skidding across the chamber. The two paused, eyeing each other. They were evenly matched…for now. 

    Sasuke smirked. It was time to tip the scales.

     He flicked his wrists, the seals on his arms activating, and in an instant, several tools and weapons appeared in his hands. With a sharp toss, a small cluster of smoke bombs exploded around Nekomata, engulfing the battlefield in thick, cloying mist. A heartbeat later, wire-thin chakra strings snapped out, wrapping around Nekomata’s limbs. Sasuke yanked hard, attempting to restrict the beast’s movements.

     But Nekomata was far from inexperienced. With sharp jerk of his own, he wrenched Sasuke forward, flipping the tables.

     The Uchiha barely had time to react before a massive paw slammed into his chest, sending him crashing against the wall.

     “Trying to fight dirty, are we?” Nekomata’s fanged grin gleamed in the dim light. “Two can play that game, Uchiha.”

     The battle quickly descended into chaos. Sasuke dipped low, sweeping a leg out to trip Nekomata—but the giant cat simply rolled with the motion, using his tail to knock Sasuke’s legs out from under him in return. The Uchiha caught himself mid-fall, flipping backward—only for Nekomata to spit a barrage of hardened fur quills at him.

     Sasuke twisted midair, pulling his cloak up as a makeshift shield. The quills embedded themselves in the fabric, narrowly missing his skin. The two clashed again—this time, neither holding back.

     Sasuke used every underhanded trick in his book: explosive tags buried under thrown kunai, wire traps laced with hidden shuriken, subtle genjutsu flickers to throw off Nekomata’s reactions. Nekomata, on the other hand, fought with the cunning of a seasoned predator—baiting Sasuke into false openings, using feints, and countering with brutal efficiency.

     It was messy. 

     It was ruthless.

    And it was exactly the kind of fight Sasuke thrived in.

    Sasuke exhaled sharply, stepping back. It was time to test out a few new techniques. Channeling chakra to his hands, he formed a series of quick, sharp seals.

     “Fūton: Kaze Meikyū!” (Wind Release: Wind Labyrinth)

     The air shifted violently—suddenly, the entire chamber became a disorienting maze of swirling wind currents. Nekomata’s ears flattened, his golden eyes narrowing. The constantly shifting air pressure made it difficult to pinpoint Sasuke’s exact location. Every sound was warped, every movement distorted.

     “Clever,” Nekomata muttered. He tried to swipe through the air, but his own strikes were thrown off-balance by the unpredictable currents.

     Sasuke, on the other hand, moved smoothly through the chaos. Another quick handsign.

     “Raiton: Hebi no Kanden!” (Lightning Release: Shock Serpent)

     Thin arcs of electricity coiled around his hands before shooting forward in the form of a serpentine current. The lightning wrapped around Nekomata’s limbs, jolting his muscles with numbing static. It wasn’t enough to harm him—just enough to slow his reactions. For the first time, Nekomata looked mildly impressed.

     “…You’re nothing like your brother,” the great cat remarked, shaking off the lingering static. His voice held a note of bitterness.

     Sasuke remained silent. Nekomata’s gaze darkened slightly as he reminisced. “Years ago, your brother came here. He didn’t ask for my paw print—he took it. That boy was like a shadow—cold, precise, and utterly indifferent.”

     His tail lashed. 

    “I still resent that loss.”

    Sasuke tilted his head, a smirk curling his lips. “Well, you’re about to experience it again.”

     Nekomata’s pupils contracted. Too late. Sasuke’s hands moved into a final, decisive sign.

     “Doton: Kuroseki Kago!” (Earth Release: Obsidian Cage)

     The ground beneath Nekomata shuddered violently. Suddenly, jagged black stone spikes erupted from the floor—forming an unbreakable cage around the beast. The massive feline snarled, twisting to escape— but the walls were already closing in, sealing him inside.

     Sasuke exhaled, stepping forward, eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “…Checkmate.”

     From within the dark cage of obsidian, Nekomata let out a deep, guttural chuckle.

    “Interesting,” the great cat mused, his large, golden eyes gleaming with amusement. “You didn’t use your Sharingan even once. Not even as a crutch.”

     Sasuke remained quiet for a moment, then scoffed, dismissing the jutsu with a single flick of his wrist. The jagged black walls crumbled away like ash in the wind, freeing the massive feline from his temporary prison.

     “I’ve long since cut ties with the Uchiha name,” Sasuke stated flatly. “Not that it was difficult considering the clan was wiped out years ago.”

     Nekomata stretched his limbs, his tail flicking lazily as he regarded Sasuke with mild curiosity.

     “Ah, yes. The great Uchiha Clan—snuffed out overnight by the hands of their own prodigy,” he mused. His claws flexed against the stone floor. “Your fighting style is nothing like his, though. No precision-driven slaughter—just raw adaptability.”

     Sasuke remained impassive.

     The giant cat then smirked. “I’ve heard rumors about a bounty hunter roaming the lands—one who bears your description. A shadow moving effortlessly across the underworld taking down rogue ninja without a trace.”

     Sasuke’s lips curled slightly.

     “And yet,” Nekomata continued, “no one from Konoha has figured out your true identity?”

     “They will eventually,” Sasuke said, crossing his arms. “A few already have—Itachi and Kisame Hoshigaki.” His red eyes flickered. “And Mei Terumī from Kirigakure.”

     Nekomata’s ears perked up at that name. “The Mizukage? Interesting. Do you think she’s already spilled your secret to the Godaime Hokage?”

     Sasuke shrugged. “I doubt it. Mei isn’t the type to meddle in affairs that don’t concern her. But if she has, then it’s only a matter of time before Tsunade decides to act on that information.”

     The conversation died into a momentary silence before Sasuke extended a hand.

     “The contract,” he prompted.

     Nekomata scowled, his tails lashing with clear reluctance.

     “Tch. I knew I’d regret this,” the great cat grumbled. He let out a low chuff, and within seconds, a smaller ninneko scurried into the chamber, carrying an aged scroll between its teeth.

     The ninneko darted forward, dropping the scroll with a soft thud at Sasuke’s feet. Sasuke crouched down, unrolling it carefully. The parchment was ancient, the names of past summoners inscribed in thick black ink. At the very end of the scroll was an empty space—a place meant for his name.

     With a swift movement, Sasuke drew a kunai across his fingertip, the sharp blade slicing through skin. A thin trail of blood welled up, pooling at the tip. Sasuke pressed his fingertip against the parchment, then firmly placed his entire hand beside it—sealing the contract with a dark red handprint. The scroll shimmered for a brief moment, its power solidifying. It was done.

     Nekomata sighed dramatically.

     “Well, no turning back now,” he muttered.

     The great cat eyed him carefully before speaking again. “So, Sasuke… what exactly do you plan to do with this contract?”

     Sasuke rolled the scroll up, tucking it into a storage seal on his arm.

     “I have plans to take down the Akatsuki,” he stated bluntly.

     Nekomata’s golden eyes narrowed.

     “They pose a threat—not just to the shinobi world, but to Naruto specifically.”

     Nekomata let out a snorting laugh. “How sentimental of you.”

     Sasuke’s gaze darkened. 

     “My Genin team was the closest thing I ever had to a family,” he admitted. His voice was steady, but beneath it was something heavier. “And I’ll be damned if I let anything happen to them.”

     The air in the chamber felt heavier.

     “I’ll let the Akatsuki make the first move,” Sasuke continued. “But when they do, I’ll be there to intercept them.”

     His Sharingan instinctively glowed faintly in the dim light.

     “I’ll watch as each and every one of them falls to the ground and dies, and I’ll do nothing but watch.”

     A long silence stretched between them. Then—Nekomata grinned. “You’re quite the interesting individual, Uchiha.”

     He leaned back, tail curling. “I look forward to seeing how this plays out.”

Chapter Text

     Sasuke had grossly underestimated the luxury of a giant cat bed. The plush bedding, lined with thick fur and layers of warmth, was far more comfortable than any human-made mattress he’d ever encountered. The way it sank beneath his weight yet still supported him was an unexpected delight.

     However, Nekomata was far less enthused. The massive feline lay curled up beside him, his golden eyes narrowed into thin slits. His tail flicked with mild annoyance as he glared at the Uchiha occupying a portion of his nest.

     “You are taking up too much space,” Nekomata grumbled.

     “You’re the one that takes up half the bed,” Sasuke retorted, shifting slightly to get more comfortable.

     The only reason Nekomata hadn’t already booted Sasuke off was because the Uchiha had taken the time to heal his wounds from their earlier scuffle. After that, Nekomata had begrudgingly accepted the idea of sharing. Sasuke closed his eyes, sinking deeper into the soft bedding. It was the first time in weeks he felt truly rested.

     By sunrise, Sasuke left the Ninneko castle, feeling rejuvenated and focused. Before departing, he mentally checked off his list of objectives:

• Securing a summoning contract with the ninneko (done) 
• Gathering more intel on the Akatsuki (work in progress)
• Ensuring that Nekomata’s spies were already deployed across the world (done)

     With those in motion, his next step was to predict Akatsuki’s movements. He stared down at the map in his hands, analyzing every path and border.

     “The One-Tail is the weakest of the tailed beasts,” he thought. “That’s where they’ll strike first.”

     His eyes landed on Sunagakure. Sasuke exhaled sharply. “Great. I have to go to Suna.”

     A chorus of disapproving voices echoed in his mind.

     “The desert is hell.”

     “Sand is the worst.”

     “You’re going to burn alive, idiot.”

     Sasuke groaned. “You’re all useless.”

     Still, there was no avoiding it. The Akatsuki would make their move soon, and if he wanted to stay ahead, he had to be there first.

     If Sasuke hated anything in this world, it was the desert. The relentless sun, the gritty sand, the dry air—every step forward felt like walking through a furnace. His Uchiha complexion was not made for this environment. His pale skin burned far too easily, and he was already starting to feel the sting of sun exposure.

     “Tch. Uchiha do not tan well,” he muttered under his breath. “Curse my heritage.”

     The heat pressed against him like a smothering blanket, making every movement sluggish. He pulled his cloak tighter around his shoulders, trying to block out the worst of it.

     “Who in their right mind would willingly live here?” he thought irritably.

     His mind briefly flickered to Sasori of the Red Sand.

     “He had the right idea leaving this hellhole,” Sasuke mused. “This place is too damn hot for my liking. I’d much rather be subjected to repeating the Chuunin Exams again than travel through another desert.”

     Despite his growing discomfort, he pressed on. He had a mission, and nothing—not the heat, not the sand, not even his own burning irritation—was going to stop him.

     Meanwhile, Naruto and Jiraiya finally arrived back in Konoha. The moment they stepped through the gates, Naruto’s eyes lit up with excitement.

     “Finally! We’re back!” he cheered. His exhaustion from the journey vanished instantly as he took in the familiar sight of the village.

     Jiraiya chuckled. “Go on, kid. I need to talk to Tsunade—try not to cause trouble while I’m gone.”

     Naruto grinned. “No promises!”

     As soon as Jiraiya left, Naruto made a beeline for the tallest point in the village—the Hokage Monument. Within minutes, he climbed to the top, standing proudly against the backdrop of the village. The wind rushed past him, rustling his clothes as he looked out over the place he called home. Taking a deep breath, he cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled loudly for the entire village to hear:

     “I’M BACK, KONOHA! BELIEVE IT!”

     His voice echoed across the rooftops, stirring laughter and groans from the villagers below. For Naruto, this was home. And no matter what obstacles lay ahead, he knew one thing for sure—

     He was one step closer to bringing Sasuke back.

     Naruto raced down the bustling streets of Konoha, his eyes darting from building to building, taking in every change. Though it had been a long time since the invasion of the village, it was clear that Konoha had mostly recovered. The damage to the infrastructure had been repaired, and new buildings stood tall where rubble once lay. The streets were lively, filled with villagers chatting, merchants selling their wares, and shinobi moving about on their daily routines.

     He grinned to himself. “Konoha’s still standing strong!”

    In his excitement, Naruto wasn’t watching where he was going—and before he knew it, he collided hard with someone. “Oof!”

     He stumbled back, rubbing his nose. “Ah, man! Sorry about—”

     His eyes widened.

     The person he had bumped into was none other than Sakura Haruno—except, she looked completely different from how he remembered her. Her hair was shorter, cropped just above her shoulders, and her new outfit consisted of a form-fitting, sleeveless red top and black shorts with a lilac medical apron around her waist, giving her a far more battle-ready look. What stood out the most, however, was that she had gained muscle—not too much, but just enough for Naruto to notice.

     “S-Sakura-chan?!”

     Sakura blinked, equally stunned. “Naruto?”

     For a moment, they just stared at each other. Then, in an instant, they both grinned and ran into each other’s arms for a tight hug.

     “It’s been forever!” Naruto laughed, squeezing her.

     Sakura chuckled. “Yeah, it really has!”

     When they finally pulled apart, Naruto grinned at her new look. “Whoa! You’re ripped now!” 

     He gave her bicep a playful poke, earning himself a smack on the head.

     “Ow!” Naruto whined, rubbing his scalp.

     Sakura smirked. “And I see you still have no filter.”

     As they walked together, Naruto looked over at her. “Pervy-Sage told me you became Baa-chan’s apprentice. That’s so cool!”

     Sakura nodded proudly. “Yeah, it’s been tough, but I’ve learned a lot. Lady Tsunade’s teaching me medical ninjutsu and I even trained with Kurenai-sensei part-time to learn some genjutsu.”

     Naruto whistled. “Genjutsu, huh? That’s crazy!”

     Sakura shrugged. “I’m nowhere near a master, but I’ve learned a few tricks.”

     “Hey, anything helps! Especially considering…” His voice trailed off, his excitement fading.

     Sakura’s expression dimmed as well. They both knew what he was referring to.

     Sasuke.

     Sakura folded her arms, looking down. “So… you know?”

     Naruto sighed. “Yeah. I know. He left for Orochimaru.”

     There was a long silence between them as the weight of those words settled in. Even after all this time, it still hurt—the loss of their teammate, their friend.

     Sakura clenched her fists. “I just… I wish there was something we could’ve done to stop him.”

     Naruto looked at her, his usual grin gone. “Me too.”

     After a few moments, Sakura shook her head, pushing away her gloom. 

     “Alright, that’s enough depressing talk,” she declared. “Let’s focus on something else—like showing you around!”

     Naruto’s eyes lit up. “Really?!”

     Sakura smirked. “Of course. I’ll show you everything that’s changed since you left!”

     With renewed energy, the two set off, exploring the village together. Naruto marveled at the new shops, gawked at the renovations, and whined dramatically about how he barely recognized some areas.

     Sakura laughed at his antics, giving him detailed updates on how the village had recovered from the invasion, how the training grounds had been expanded, and how Tsunade was working tirelessly to strengthen Konoha’s shinobi forces. It felt good—just goofing off and acting like normal teenagers for once, forgetting about the stress of being shinobi, if only for a little while.

     Eventually, they came to a halt when they spotted Team 10 in the distance: Shikamaru, Ino, and Chōji. The three of them were in the middle of chatting near a dango stand, but when they turned and saw Naruto, their reactions were instantaneous.

     Ino’s jaw dropped. Chōji almost choked on his dango. Shikamaru’s eyebrows shot up, his usual lazy demeanor replaced with genuine surprise.

     Naruto grinned widely, puffing out his chest. “HEY, GUYS! I’M BACK!”

     For a second, there was silence. Then—

     “NARUTO?!”

     And just like that, the reunion officially began.

     Sasuke finally set foot in Sunagakure just as the sun began its slow descent toward the horizon. The heat, though not as suffocating as earlier, still clung to his skin, and the dryness in the air made every breath feel like he was inhaling sand.

     “I swear… if I never have to come here again, it’ll be too soon.”

     The voices in his head shared his sentiment.

     “Ugh, this place is a nightmare.”

     “Who in their right mind would willingly live in this hellhole?”

     “Sand gets everywhere. Everywhere.”

     Sasuke exhaled sharply through his nose, annoyed. ”At least we agree on something for once.”

     Sneaking into Suna was child’s play. Despite the village’s security having improved since the failed invasion, he knew what to look for—blind spots, patrol shifts, weak security posts. In the span of a few minutes, he was already deep within the village, keeping his head low as he assessed his surroundings.

     The economy had clearly recovered since the failed invasion. The streets were bustling with activity, markets thrived, and new structures had been built where once there was ruin. Konoha and Suna’s treaty had obviously benefited both parties, a fact that Sasuke filed away in his mind.

     But he wasn’t here for politics. Sasuke kept his eyes peeled for anything out of the ordinary, any hint of the Akatsuki’s movements. He knew exactly who their target here was—Gaara of the Sand.

     He had fought Gaara before, during the Chuunin Exams. Back then, Gaara had been a bloodthirsty jinchūriki, barely in control of himself. While his sand manipulation was a nuisance, Sasuke knew now that it could be countered if he played his cards right. He had faced far worse threats than a berserk Genin Gaara during his time as a rogue.

     “If we ever have a rematch… I wonder if I’d win.”

     His fingers tensed at the thought. Gaara was strong, no doubt—but Sasuke had spent years refining his own abilities. If a fight ever happened, he’d be ready. One question still remained in Sasuke’s mind.

     “Who’s leading Suna now?”

     Orochimaru had killed the last Kazekage, leaving the position vacant. Sasuke expected some high-ranking official to have taken over—perhaps an elder or a war-hardened shinobi. It didn’t take long to overhear a passing conversation that gave him his answer.

     “Lord Gaara’s reforms have really made a difference…”

     “I know, right? Ever since he became Kazekage, things have been improving nonstop.”

     Sasuke froze mid-step. Then, he smirked. “Gaara… is the Kazekage? That’s rich.”

     The voices in his head burst into laughter.

     “Oh, this is hilarious.”

     “From bloodthirsty monster to Kazekage? What a glow-up.”

     “Maybe you should aim to be Hokage next, Sasuke.”

     “Yeah! Lord Hokage Weasel!”

     Sasuke’s eye twitched. “Shut the fuck up.”

     The voices didn’t stop laughing. He sighed, rubbing his temple. The worst part? He was starting to acknowledge their existence more and more. Whether he liked it or not, they were a part of him.

     “Might as well give them a name at this point.” For a moment, he hesitated. Then, begrudgingly, he settled on one. “Inner Sasuke.”

     The voices hummed with amusement.

     “Ohhh, we have a name now! Fancy.”

     “So we’re officially part of the Uchiha brand? We should get a crest.”

     “Do we get a vote on this? No? Too bad, we’re rolling with it.”

     Sasuke scowled. This was a mistake.

     Shaking off his internal nonsense, Sasuke focused on the task at hand. He needed information—and there was no better place to gather intel than a local bar.

     Through experience, Sasuke had learned one thing—drunk people talked too much. If there was anything worth knowing, he’d find out there.

     The moment he stepped inside, the smell of alcohol, sweat, and desert spice filled his nose. The bar was dimly lit, with shinobi, merchants, and travelers alike gathered around tables, speaking in hushed or boisterous tones.

     Sasuke took a seat at an empty table and ordered a drink, though he had no real intention of consuming it. Instead, he tuned into the surrounding conversations. It didn’t take long before he started picking up on key details.

     The treaty between Suna and Konoha had allowed the economy to boom over the past three years. With Gaara’s leadership, several reforms had taken place—orphan care had improved, the military had been reorganized, and most importantly, jinchūriki were no longer treated as expendable weapons.

     Sasuke took a slow sip of his untouched drink, his mind turning. “A complete overhaul of the village, huh? Probably something Konoha could use, too.”

     Konoha had its own flaws, ones that people pretended not to see. The treatment of orphans, the rigid hierarchies, the endless cycle of revenge that came from its shinobi system… it wasn’t so different from how Suna had once been.

     Gaara had changed Suna. Could Naruto change Konoha?

     Sasuke’s expression darkened at the thought. It wasn’t his concern. He wasn’t here to play politics or hope for a brighter future. He was here to watch the Akatsuki burn.

     And he had a feeling they’d be making their move soon.

     Naruto grinned as he sat on a wooden bench with his old friends, the Ino-Shika-Chō trio, and Sakura. It had been a long time since he had seen them, and he was enjoying every second of it. The five of them were gathered in front of a small dango shop, chatting like old times.

     “So, wait,” Naruto said, pointing at Ino with a mouthful of food. “You’re Baa-chan’s apprentice too?”

     Ino flipped her long blonde hair over her shoulder, smirking. “That’s right! And not just that—I’m also interning under my dad in Konoha’s T&I division.”

     Naruto nearly choked. “T&I?! As in, the place where that sadist Ibiki works?!”

     Sakura laughed, while Shikamaru and Chōji smirked.

     “Yep,” Ino said proudly. “Turns out my clan’s jutsu makes for excellent interrogation tools. Who knew?”

     Naruto gave her a wary look. “You’re scaring me, Ino.”

     Ino winked. “Good. That means it’s working.”

     Chōji, meanwhile, casually grabbed another skewer of dango and spoke through bites. “I got promoted to Chūnin a while ago. Now I’m preparing for the Jōnin exams.”

     Naruto’s eyes widened. “Whoa, seriously?! That’s awesome, Chōji!”

     “Thanks,” Chōji said, rubbing the back of his head. “It’s a lot of work, though.”

     Shikamaru, who had been silent up until now, gave a lazy shrug. “Same here. I’m taking the Jōnin exams too.”

     Naruto grinned. “Heh, no surprise there. You probably could’ve skipped straight to Jōnin if you wanted.”

     Shikamaru exhaled, scratching the back of his head. “Too much of a drag. Besides I’ve got enough on my plate being Konoha’s ambassador to Suna.”

     Naruto blinked. “Wait—you’re our ambassador to Suna?!”

     Sakura smirked. “That means he has to work with Temari a lot.”

     Naruto’s grin widened. “Oho~ I see what’s going on here.”

     Ino leaned in with a mischievous glint in her eye. “He totally only took the position as an excuse to see her.”

     Shikamaru scoffed, his expression neutral. “That’s a ridiculous assumption.”

     “Oh, is it?” Ino teased. “Every time I see you, you’re either talking about Suna or mysteriously disappearing on ‘diplomatic meetings.’”

     Chōji chuckled, Naruto laughed, and Sakura grinned.

     Shikamaru sighed heavily. “You guys are the worst.”

     “You didn’t deny it, though,” Naruto pointed out, waggling his eyebrows.

     Shikamaru groaned, rubbing his temples.

     The group continued chatting and laughing for a while before eventually deciding to part ways.

     “Man, it’s great catching up with everyone,” Naruto said as he stretched.

     Sakura smiled. “Yeah. A lot has changed since you left.”

     As the two walked through the village, Naruto suddenly stopped and pointed ahead. “Oi, Sakura-chan, look at that!”

     Sakura followed his gaze and sighed in exasperation. There, leaning against a fence, was none other than Kakashi Hatake, completely engrossed in his infamous orange book.

     “Kakashi-sensei!” Naruto called out.

     Kakashi glanced up lazily, one eye crinkling in amusement. “Oh? Naruto, Sakura. Good to see you two.”

     Sakura crossed her arms and scowled. “You’re reading that filth in public again?”

     Kakashi tilted his head. “You’re starting to sound a lot like Tsunade, you know.”

     Sakura’s eye twitched.

     Kakashi then turned to Naruto. “And look at you, Naruto. A little taller, a little stronger… but still the same loudmouth brat I remember.”

     Naruto grinned. “You know it!”

     Then Kakashi turned back to Sakura, and his eye gleamed mischievously. “And Sakura—what happened to your long hair? You finally decided to go for a more practical hairstyle? What a pity, I quite frankly enjoyed watching it get tangled up while you trained.”

     Sakura’s face darkened. Kakashi… made a grave mistake. In a blur, Sakura lunged, her fist cocked back.

     “GET BACK HERE, KAKASHI-SENSEI!”

     Kakashi vanished in an instant, dodging the blow as Sakura chased after him at full speed. Naruto, laughing, immediately joined the pursuit.

     After a long chase through the village, Kakashi led them to a familiar place: Team 7’s old training grounds. Sakura and Naruto finally stopped, both panting.

     Naruto blinked. “Wait… why are we here?”

     Kakashi, standing casually near a tree, smiled beneath his mask. “Simple. You’re a team again, but you’re also missing a teammate.”

     Naruto’s expression sobered, as did Sakura’s.

     “You’ll have to learn to rely on each other more than ever,” Kakashi continued. Then, he pulled out two small silver bells.

     Naruto’s eyes widened.

     “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Sakura muttered.

     Kakashi grinned. “As a little celebration for Naruto’s return, we’re having a rematch. Another bell test.”

     Sakura and Naruto exchanged determined looks before nodding. Kakashi explained the rules, then raised his book as if he had all the time in the world. “Shall we begin?”

     The moment Kakashi gave the signal, Naruto vanished in a gust of wind. Sakura immediately formed hand seals, slamming her palms into the ground.

     “Dōton: Doryūsō!” (Earth Release: Rising Stone Pillars)

     Massive stone columns erupted from the ground, closing off Kakashi’s movement.

     “Not bad.” Kakashi thought, leaping onto one of the pillars—only to feel a sudden shift beneath his feet.

     “Suiton: Nagareru kawa!” (Water Release: Flowing River Jutsu)

     A torrent of water surged up, soaking the area and weakening the stone pillars, making them crumble beneath him.

     Kakashi barely had time to react before Naruto appeared mid-air.

     ”Fūton: Reppūshō!” (Wind Release: Gale Palm)

     A compressed blast of air shot toward Kakashi, forcing him to block. As he landed, Sakura was already there, her fist glowing with chakra.

     “SHANNARO!”

     She swung—Kakashi dodged by a hair, feeling the shockwave behind him as her punch obliterated a nearby tree.

     “They’ve definitely gotten stronger.” 

     Kakashi flipped mid-air, aiming to counter—only to feel something clamp down on his ankle. He looked down. Naruto grinned from below, crouched with chakra-infused chains of wind wrapped around Kakashi’s leg.

     “Gotcha.”

     Kakashi’s visible eye widened.

     “Fūton: Supairarubureiku!” (Wind Release: Spiraling Break)

     A burst of air exploded from Naruto’s palm, sending Kakashi hurling backward.

     Sakura was already waiting.

     She slammed her hands together. “Hanabira no arashi!” (Petal Storm Barrage)

     The world around Kakashi warped, cherry blossoms swirling in a hypnotic dance. For a fraction of a second, his vision blurred. Then, he felt it. A hand snatching the bells from his belt.

     The genjutsu dispersed, revealing Naruto and Sakura standing before him, each holding a bell. Kakashi sighed, rubbing the back of his head.

     “Well,” he said, smiling, “I suppose I should say congratulations.”

     Naruto and Sakura grinned at each other. Team 7 was back.

Chapter Text

     Sasuke gritted his teeth as he pressed himself against the cool shade of a building, his cloak shielding him from the relentless heat. This place was dreadful. The heat was unbearable, the dry air parched his throat, and the sand… Kami, the sand was everywhere. Every step he took, he felt grains of it grinding into his boots, clinging to his clothes.

     “Never again,” he thought bitterly, glaring at the unrelenting sun. Inner Sasuke shared his sentiment.

     “This place is the worst.”

     “I hope we never have to come back.”

     “We should just burn it down and be done with it.”

     “Shut the fuck up,” Sasuke mentally snapped, rubbing his temples. “We’re here for a reason, so deal with it.”

     Sasuke moved swiftly through shaded areas, keeping his presence minimal as he surveyed the village. The economy seemed to have bounced back since their failed invasion three years ago. He saw merchants actively bartering, shinobi on patrol, and civilians bustling about with a sense of normalcy that had been absent back then.

     “Looks like their alliance with Konoha really paid off.”

     His eyes scanned every face, every movement, watching for any signs of unusual activity. Nothing yet.

      Deciding to take a break, Sasuke slipped into a narrow alleyway, leaning against the cool stone wall. His eyes narrowed in thought as he mentally assessed his current skill set.

     “Let’s see…”

• Fire and Lightning Release – Mastered. No surprises there. Those were his natural affinities, and his arsenal in those departments was vast.
• Earth and Water Release – Decent. He had picked up a few jutsu during his time on the run, but nothing too advanced.
• Wind Release – Weak. The only wind techniques he knew were ones he had observed rather than trained in. He’s limited as to what attacks he can use due to the fact that this is his weakest nature, so he’s lucky enough that his attack on Nekomata landed successfully. Tsk, something else he’d have to improve on in the future. 
• Genjutsu – Completely useless. He could break out of illusions thanks to his excellent chakra control, but using genjutsu himself? Forget it, he was not becoming a mini-Itachi. 
• Sharingan – Fully developed three tomoe, but he refused to use it unless absolutely necessary. Just the thought of relying on it infuriated him. It felt like a tainted gift, a curse.
• Fuinjutsu – Mastered. One of his most useful skills. It allowed him to seal away weapons, jutsu, and even chakra itself in a pinch.
• Medical Ninjutsu – Moderate knowledge. Enough to patch himself up and keep himself alive, but not much beyond that. Quite useful for dealing though. 
• Taijutsu & Shurikenjutsu – Far better than his Genin days. His speed, agility, and precision had drastically improved.

     The question was—would this be enough?

      Sasuke’s eyes darkened. The Akatsuki were no joke. The only members he had any real knowledge of were Itachi and Kisame.

     Itachi…

     Sasuke’s fingers twitched involuntarily as anger surged through him. He knew his brother’s fighting style inside and out, having analyzed and obsessed over it for years. Fire Release, Genjutsu, the Sharingan’s precognition, and the Tsukuyomi.

      Then there was Kisame. Sasuke didn’t know much about him—except that his sword, Samehada, could absorb chakra.

     “Tch. Wish I had a cool weapon like that.”

     Inner Sasuke chuckled in his mind.

     “There’s always Kubikiribōchō.”

     Sasuke froze.

     Kubikiribōchō. The Executioner’s Blade. Zabuza’s old weapon… the one still buried in the Land of Waves.

     “That thing would make for a great addition to your arsenal.”

     Sasuke folded his arms, contemplating. “I won’t desecrate a grave. That’d be spitting on Zabuza’s memory and disrespecting Kiri’s culture.”

     “You could always use it as political leverage. If Mei tries anything, Kiri will owe you.”

     Sasuke clicked his tongue but reluctantly admitted that it was a solid strategy. “Fine. After this mission, we’ll head to the Land of Waves.”

     But for now… his focus was on Suna. How long until the Akatsuki made their move?

     Under the blazing desert sun, two figures trekked through the sand, their Akatsuki cloaks billowing in the dry wind.

     “Ugh,” Deidara groaned, wiping the sweat from his forehead. “This sucks, yeah.”

      Sasori didn’t even glance at him. “Stop complaining.”

     “We could have been there in an hour if I flew us in on my clay bird!” Deidara huffed, kicking a rock. “Instead we’re walking in this godforsaken heat like idiots, yeah.”

     Sasori’s expression remained neutral. “Stealth is key. Flying in would have alerted the entire village.”

     Deidara pouted. “Tch. Who cares? We’ll be blowing them up soon enough anyway, yeah.”

     “Subtlety first,” Sasori said. “My spy inside the village informed me that midday during guard rotations is when Suna is at its weakest. That’s when we’ll strike.”

     Deidara’s frown flipped into a grin. “Midday, huh? Perfect. I can’t wait to show off my art.”

      Sasori sighed, but at least Deidara had stopped complaining. Unbeknownst to them, someone was waiting for them in the shadows of Sunagaukure, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike.

      The wind howled through the desert. Sunagakure was about to become a battlefield.

     The morning sunlight poured through the curtains, casting golden streaks across the small, familiar space. Naruto groaned as he stretched, a wide grin forming on his face. Finally! His first full day back in Konoha, and he was ready to show off everything he had learned over the years.

     He jumped out of bed, fists clenched in excitement. “Today’s the day! I get to finally show Kakashi-sensei and Sakura-chan all the new jutsu I’ve picked up!”

      His excitement, however, came to a screeching halt the moment his eyes swept across his apartment.

     “…Oh.”

     The place was a wreck. Old, dusty ramen cups piled in the corner, stacks of clothes haphazardly thrown around, and the air carried the faint musty scent of a place that had been abandoned for years. The wooden floor was sticky, the window panes were cloudy with grime, and he was pretty sure something moved in the kitchen.

     Naruto sighed deeply. “I can’t train like this… I can’t live like this.”

     Cracking his knuckles, he took a deep breath before forming a cross sign with his fingers. “Alright, guys—time to get to work!”

     A puff of smoke exploded around him, and suddenly, his apartment was filled with six identical Narutos, all groaning in protest.

     “Aww, come on, boss!” one clone whined, rubbing his head. “We just got back to the village!”

     “Yeah! Can’t we clean later?” another grumbled, kicking an empty ramen cup.

     “Nope!” the original Naruto barked. “We’re getting this done now! We can’t live in a pigsty!”

     The clones sighed but saluted.

     “Fine, fine…”

     Within minutes, the entire apartment erupted into chaos—but it was a productive chaos. Clones scrubbed the walls, others swept the floors, and one unfortunate Naruto was assigned to clean the bathroom (which he loudly protested).

     By the time midday hit, Naruto collapsed onto his now-clean bed, wiping the sweat from his forehead. The apartment was spotless. He took a deep breath, a proud grin forming on his lips.

     “Alright… now I can finally get back to training!”

     The sun was at its highest point when two cloaked figures approached the gates of Sunagakure. The wind whistled through the desert, carrying grains of sand as the guards stepped forward, their eyes wary.

     “Halt!” One of the guards raised his hand, his gaze flickering between the two strangers. “State your business in Sunagakure.”

     For a moment there was silence. Then, Sasori moved first. With a flick of his wrist, a storm of senbon needles shot forward, piercing through the guards before they could react. Their bodies stiffened before they collapsed, the poison already taking effect.

     Deidara grinned wildly. “Looks like that’s my cue, yeah?”

     With a single hand seal, Deidara reached into his clay pouch, his palms forming and molding a small bird. Within seconds, the bird expanded, growing massive enough to carry him. As the guards crumbled, Deidara leaped onto his clay creation, his laughter echoing through the village.

     “Time to create some true art, yeah!”

     With a kick of his foot, the clay bird soared into the sky, heading straight toward the Kazekage’s office.

     Gaara’s fingers twitched as he flipped through a series of reports. The economic growth of Suna had been promising in recent years, but his mind was always on the future.

     Beside him, Kankuro leaned against the desk, arms crossed. “Man, this paperwork never ends, huh?”

     Gaara was about to respond when—

     BOOM!

     The entire building shook as a massive explosion erupted in the distance. Through the office window, fire and smoke billowed into the air, and Gaara’s eyes snapped toward the sky. A clay bird hovered above the village, a blonde figure cackling wildly atop it.

     “One-tails jinchuriki, yeah!” Deidara’s voice echoed down. “Come out and play!”

     Kankuro’s expression hardened. “Shit! Gaara, I’ll head to the gate!”

     Gaara’s sand shifted around his feet. “I’ll deal with him.”

     Without another word, Kankuro rushed out toward the main gate, leaving Gaara to step forward, his sand already swirling protectively around him. The air grew heavy.

     Gaara lifted his arm, his expression impassive. “So, the Akatsuki has finally come for me. I’ll make sure they don’t make it out of this village alive. They’ll regret ever messing with Sunagaukure.” 

    From the alleyway, Sasuke’s smirk widened. The sky was ablaze with fire and smoke, the explosion sending civilians fleeing in terror. Up above, he saw it—the unmistakable red clouded cloaks.

     “Finally.”

     Inner Sasuke roared in excitement.

     “This is it.”

     “Time for some real fun.”

      “Go on, let loose.”

     Sasuke exhaled sharply, his smirk deepening as he finally unmasked his chakra. For so long, he had kept his presence suppressed, kept his power hidden in the shadows. But now? Now, it was time to strike.

     A dark, electrifying aura erupted around him, his chakra surging outward. Nearby shinobi stumbled back, their instincts screaming danger at the sudden shift in the air. Sasuke rolled his shoulders, his fingers twitching with anticipation.

     “It’s been a while since I had a real challenge.”

     He took a step forward, lightning crackling around his arm.

     “Let’s take down some pests.”

     And with a burst of speed, Sasuke vanished into the chaos.

     Deidara’s smirk widened as he crouched low on his clay bird, watching Gaara rise to meet him. The Kazekage’s sand swirled around him, the desert air thick with tension as the battle was about to begin.

     Deidara grinned, reaching into his clay pouch. 

     “Oh, this is gonna be fun, yeah,” he chuckled, rolling a bit of explosive clay between his fingers. “Show me what you got, Jinchūriki—”

     CRACK!

     Before he could even react, a blur of black and silver slammed into his ribs with the force of a meteor, sending him soaring through the air before crashing through the side of a building.

     Gaara’s eyes widened in shock. The clay bird lurched, but instead of plummeting, a lone figure landed gracefully atop it. Dressed in a dark cloak, his black hair whipping in the wind, the newcomer dusted off his hands nonchalantly, his expression cold and composed.

     “You’re in my way,” Sasuke stated plainly. Then, he turned his head toward the half-buried Deidara, voice carrying across the battlefield. “I’m here to collect my bounty.”

     Deidara’s eye twitched. For a second, there was only the distant sound of flames and screaming in the village below. Then, Deidara gritted his teeth, pushing himself up from the rubble. His gaze darkened as he wiped a streak of blood from his lip. “Oh you gotta be fucking kidding me, yeah.”

     With a single hand seal, the clay bird beneath Sasuke exploded.

     BOOM!

     Gaara’s sand reacted instantly, forming a barrier around him as the shockwave rippled outward. The explosion lit up the sky, debris raining down over the rooftops below.

     But as the smoke cleared, a shadow flickered onto a nearby rooftop. Sasuke landed lightly, completely unharmed, his dark eyes sharpened with amusement.

     Gaara’s brows furrowed as he tried to process what had just happened. “Who the hell is this?”

     Deidara clicked his tongue in frustration as he pulled himself out of the wreckage. His mind raced, assessing his new opponent. Then, it clicked.

     “No way—”

     Deidara’s eye narrowed, recalling something Kakuzu had complained about months ago.

     “Some punk bounty hunter’s been stealing all the high-profile corpses lately. Calls himself ‘Weasel’ or some shit. Damn brat’s making my job harder.”

     At the time, Deidara had brushed it off. He never expected to meet this so-called “Weasel” in person. And yet here he was.

     Deidara gritted his teeth. “What the hell is a notorious bounty hunter like you doing here?”

     Sasuke tilted his head slightly, as if in deep thought. Then, after a few seconds, his lips curled into a sadistic smirk.

     “Isn’t it obvious?” he said smoothly. “I want to add a few more heads to my collection.”

     The sheer weight of his killing intent crashed into Deidara like a tidal wave. For the first time in years, a chill ran down his spine. This was different.

     In all his years as a shinobi, Deidara had faced bloodthirsty assassins, cold-hearted mercenaries, and even his fellow Akatsuki members. But this?

     “This guy is completely unhinged.”

     For the first time, Deidara wasn’t sure if he’d make it out of this battle alive.

     Deidara shook off the momentary dread, forming hand seals rapidly. “Tch, you’re getting on my nerves, yeah!”

     With a flick of his wrist, several small clay birds shot from his palm, darting toward Sasuke at breakneck speeds. Sasuke’s eyes flickered, analyzing the attack in an instant. He leaped back, forming his own hand seals.

     ”Katon: Hōsenka no Jutsu!” (Fire Release: Phoenix Sage Fire Jutsu)

     Tiny fireballs exploded from his mouth, colliding mid-air with Deidara’s clay creations. A chain reaction ignited the sky, flames and shrapnel raining over the battlefield. Sasuke landed smoothly, already preparing his next move.

     Deidara gritted his teeth. “You little—!”

     Gaara, who had been watching from the sidelines, finally moved. His sand shot out, attempting to snare Deidara’s legs, but the bomber jumped away just in time.

     “Tch, two against one? That’s not very artistic, yeah!” Deidara snarled.

     Sasuke was already gone. A blur of motion. In the next instant, he reappeared behind Deidara, his hand crackling with electricity.

     “Too slow. Chidori Nagashi!” (Chidori Current)

     A surge of lightning exploded outward, engulfing Deidara mid-air. His body convulsed, the electricity paralyzing his movements. But instead of screaming, Deidara grinned through the pain. “Gotcha, yeah.”

     Sasuke’s eyes widened slightly—but it was already too late. Deidara’s body burst apart, revealing itself to be a clay clone.

     “Shit—!”

     BOOM!

     The explosion sent shockwaves through the air, forcing Sasuke to flip backward mid-air, narrowly dodging the brunt of the blast. As he landed on a rooftop, another clay bomb rained toward him—this time from above. Deidara, now hovering on another clay bird, cackled wildly.

     “You’re not bad, yeah! But you’re still not artistic enough to keep up with me!”

     Sasuke gritted his teeth, wiping a thin streak of blood from his cheek. “Alright… looks like I’ll have to get serious.”

     His hands moved through seals faster than Deidara could react.

     “Dōton: Iwa Hashira Nobori!” (Earth Release: Rock Pillar Ascent)

     The rooftop beneath Sasuke rumbled before a massive stone pillar erupted into the sky, slamming into Deidara’s bird with immense force. Deidara yelped as his clay bird was knocked off balance, sending him spiraling.

     At that moment, Gaara struck. ”Sabaku Kyū!” (Sand Coffin)

     A whip of sand surged up, aiming straight for Deidara’s midsection. But Deidara, even mid-air, was crafty. “Not bad, yeah… but I’m not dying yet!”

     With a desperate motion, he spat out another handful of clay birds, sending them exploding outward to counteract the sand’s grip. A massive shockwave burst outward, splitting the battlefield apart. As the smoke cleared, Sasuke narrowed his eyes, spotting Deidara now perched atop another clay bird, panting slightly. His opponent wasn’t out yet—but neither was he.

     “This is just getting started.”

     From down below, hidden within the crumbling streets of Sunagakure, Sasori of the Red Sand watched. His impassive gaze drifted upward, following the intense aerial battle unfolding between Deidara, the Kazekage, and this mysterious third combatant—Weasel.

     The battle was a spectacle, a clash of elements, explosions, and raw skill. Sasori had already disposed of a good portion of the village’s shinobi forces, their bodies strewn across the battlefield, lifeless and paralyzed by his poison. Kankurō lay among them, his face twisted in pain, his body wracked with the symptoms of Sasori’s lethal venom. The poison had spread quickly, rendering him completely immobile.

     But even as his work below had been flawless, something else had piqued his interest. His gaze lingered on Weasel. “Where have I heard of him before?”

     Then, it hit him. A memory resurfaced. A few weeks ago, Kisame and Itachi returned from a mission. Sasori remembered Itachi looking worse than usual—his calm, unreadable mask still in place, but his movements slightly sluggish. He remembered Kisame laughing, that deep shark-like grin widening as he leaned back.

     “We ran into a bit of trouble.” Kisame had said, amused.

     “Trouble?” Sasori had asked, uninterested at first.

     Kisame had chuckled, rubbing his chin. “Yeah. Itachi nearly got owned by some kid in combat. I think he calls himself ‘Weasel’ now. Regardless it sure was an entertaining fight. I wouldn’t want to be on his bad side, that’s for sure.”

     Sasori had not thought much of it at the time. But now? His eyes flicked back up toward the battle, studying Weasel’s fluid movements, his efficiency, his raw control over multiple elemental releases.

     “So this is the one that even made Itachi struggle.”

     Sasori’s mind worked quickly, his analytical prowess breaking down the battlefield in seconds. Deidara was faltering. His explosions were getting sloppier, and he was struggling to keep up with Weasel’s speed and Gaara’s overwhelming defense.

     Gaara remained steady, his sand keeping him mostly untouchable, but he was expending chakra at an alarming rate. Weasel was the unknown factor. If Kisame’s assessment had been correct, then he was far more dangerous than he let on.

     “Deidara won’t last much longer on his own.”

     With that realization, Sasori decided to move.

    Sasori raised one hand, his fingers twitching slightly. All at once, his cloak billowed open, revealing the hidden mechanisms within his puppet, Hiruko. With a mere thought, a storm of kunai shot out, laced with deadly poison, raining toward the battlefield.

     Sasuke was the first to react. His body flickered from its spot just as the kunai embedded into the rooftop he had been standing on. Gaara’s sand shield activated instinctively, catching the poisoned kunai before they could reach him.

     Deidara, panting, looked down and grinned. “About time, yeah!”

     Sasori stepped forward, his feet barely making a sound as he emerged onto the battlefield. His calm, emotionless voice cut through the air.

     “Weasel.” His gaze locked onto Sasuke. “I assume that’s what you go by.”

     Sasuke narrowed his eyes but said nothing.

     Sasori took another step forward. “I’ve heard of you.” His tone remained eerily flat. “You’re the one who gave Itachi trouble.”

     Sasuke smirked. 

     “Trouble?” he echoed. “I damn near killed him.”

     Deidara snorted from above. “Heh, yeah right, bastard.”

     Sasori, however, simply raised a hand and something shifted behind him. With a single movement, he summoned his prized puppet—the Third Kazekage. Gaara’s eyes widened at the sight of the puppet while Sasuke’s gaze flickered with interest.

     “Deidara, fall back,” Sasori instructed.

     Deidara grumbled but complied, maneuvering his clay bird higher into the sky, putting distance between himself and the battle below. Sasori’s fingers twitched and the Third Kazekage came to life, its arms unfolding as its mouth opened, releasing a dark, ominous substance into the air.

     Sasuke immediately recognized the danger.

     “Iron Sand.”

     The black metallic dust twisted and writhed, forming into deadly projectiles in midair. Sasuke moved first. A single hand seal.

     “Katon: Ryūha no Jutsu!” (Fire Release: Dragon Flame Jutsu)

      A massive wave of fire roared toward the incoming sand, but Sasori barely reacted. With a flick of his wrist, the Iron Sand shifted, forming a dense wall that absorbed the flames completely.

     “Damn.” Sasuke barely had a second to react before spikes of Iron Sand shot toward him at blinding speeds. He dodged, twisting mid-air, landing on a far rooftop.

     Gaara stepped forward, his sand coiling aggressively.

     “You’re using the Third Kazekage’s corpse as a weapon,” he stated, his voice calm but ice-cold.

     Sasori turned his gaze toward the Godiame Kazekage. 

     “It’s nothing personal,” he said simply. “His body just happened to be useful.”

      Gaara’s sand lashed out. Sasori moved his fingers, and the Third Kazekage puppet countered effortlessly, shaping its Iron Sand into a massive spear that collided mid-air with Gaara’s sand.

     Sasuke watched the exchange, analyzing every movement. “He’s fast. His puppets react instantly. He’s controlling everything from a distance, which means the real body isn’t vulnerable.”

     Sasuke’s eyes sharpened.

     “Then I’ll have to force him out.”

     With a single motion, Sasuke vanished in a burst of speed. Sasori barely had a second to react before Sasuke reappeared directly in front of him, his kunai crackling with electricity.

     “Kusanagi no Tsurugi: Chidorigatana!” (Chidori Blade)

     Sasori leaned back just in time, the electricity carving a deep gash into his chest—but no blood spilled.

     Sasuke’s eyes widened slightly as he saw the truth. “No… it’s not a real body.”

     Sasori tilted his head slightly, his voice as calm as ever. “Figured it out, have you?”

     With a single motion, his chest opened, revealing a spinning bladed weapon attached to a hidden cable. Before Sasuke could react, the blade shot toward him at blinding speed—

     SLASH!

     Sasuke barely managed to twist mid-air, avoiding a direct fatal hit, but the blade carved into his shoulder, drawing blood. Sasori pulled the weapon back, watching as Sasuke landed, gripping his wound.

     “You’re fast,” Sasori admitted. “But you’re not fast enough.”

     Sasuke smirked through the pain. “Neither are you.”

      With a flick of his fingers, several kunai rained from the sky—not from Sasuke, but from Gaara’s sand. Sasori barely had time to look up before the barrage came crashing down. Sasuke landed on a nearby rooftop, his breathing even despite the gash on his shoulder. He could already feel the numbing sensation creeping into his muscles.

      “Poison.”

     His mind worked quickly, breaking down the situation with clinical precision. Sasori’s attacks were laced with poison—lethal, no doubt. If left untreated, paralysis was likely the next step. He couldn’t afford to be hindered, not in a fight against an Akatsuki member.

     “Tch.”

     Without hesitation, Sasuke dropped to one knee, his left hand glowing faintly with chakra.

     “Dokuso no chûshutsu.” (Toxin Extraction Seal) 

     A small, intricate seal formed just above the wound, pulsing with energy. With a controlled exhale, Sasuke channeled his medical chakra, forcing the contaminated blood to rise to the surface. Darkened liquid oozed from the wound, pooling onto the rooftop.

     The moment the poison left his system, he clenched his fist and slammed it onto the seal—activating it. The extracted poison was neutralized instantly, burning away into nothingness. With his right hand, he formed a quick hand seal.

     “Shōsen Jutsu.” (Mystical Palm Jutsu)

     A soft green glow enveloped his wound, the torn flesh knitting itself back together within seconds.

      Sasori, watching from the opposite rooftop, narrowed his eyes. “He removed my poison… and healed himself in mere seconds.”

     His mind processed this development. Weasel wasn’t just a fighter. He had advanced medical knowledge. He was proficient in fuinjutsu—an extremely rare skill set and his ability to adapt in battle was exceptional.

     “Interesting.”

     Sasori’s fingers twitched, the Third Kazekage puppet shifting once more.

     Sasuke, now fully recovered, rolled his shoulder once before looking up at Sasori, his lips curling into a smirk. “Your poison won’t work on me, Sasori.”

     With a flick of his wrist, Sasuke pulled out several kunai, each inscribed with complex sealing formulas.

     Sasori, ever the strategist, immediately recognized the potential danger of those kunai. “Seals.”

     He wouldn’t allow them to be activated. Before Sasuke could throw them, Sasori’s fingers moved and the Third Kazekage raised a massive wall of Iron Sand, cutting off Sasuke’s immediate line of sight. Sasuke vanished in a flicker of movement, reappearing at a different angle before launching the kunai toward the puppet master himself.

     Sasori’s reaction was instantaneous. With a small hand movement, the Third Kazekage’s Iron Sand formed several dense projectiles, colliding with the kunai mid-air.

     But then—

     A pulse of chakra.

     The kunai detonated—not in explosions, but in an intricate web of sealing energy. Sasori’s eyes widened slightly as the Iron Sand he was controlling suddenly stiffened, freezing in place. “Sealing jutsu that disrupts chakra flow?”

     Sasuke grinned. “Got you.”

     Without wasting a second, he leapt forward, both hands weaving through multiple seals at blinding speeds.

     ”Katon: Hōsenka no Jutsu!” (Fire Release: Phoenix Sage Fire Jutsu)

     A barrage of small fireballs rained down, aimed not at Sasori himself, but at the weakened structure he was standing on. The rooftop collapsed beneath Sasori, forcing him to react. With incredible precision, Sasori ejected a hidden cable from his wrist, latching onto a far building, swinging himself to safety.

      Sasuke watched him closely, his mind racing. “His body isn’t normal. He hasn’t bled once. If I had to guess… he’s already converted himself into a puppet.”

     That meant—

     “His real weakness must be hidden somewheres.”

     Sasuke’s eyes narrowed.

     “I’ll just have to rip him apart and find it.”

     While Sasuke and Sasori clashed, Deidara soared high above Sunagakure, his clay bird circling like a vulture. Gaara followed suit, his sand lifting him into the air, eyes locked onto the enemy.

     Deidara grinned. “So, you’re my opponent now, yeah?”

     Gaara didn’t respond, his gaze cold and calculating.

     Deidara let out a chuckle before tossing a handful of clay into his mouth-hands. “I’ll make you appreciate true art, Kazekage.”

     With a quick movement, Deidara launched several small clay birds, each fluttering toward Gaara with increasing speed. Gaara raised his hand, and his sand reacted immediately, forming a massive wave that swallowed the incoming explosives.

     BOOM!

     The explosion ripped through the sand barrier, scattering debris through the air, but Gaara remained untouched, his expression unreadable. “Tch, figures.”

     Deidara moved, his bird diving at incredible speeds, forcing Gaara to react. With a mere thought, Gaara’s sand shot forward, forming countless tendrils that lashed toward Deidara. Deidara narrowly dodged, his body twisting mid-air as he threw more explosive clay into the sandstorm below.

     BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

     The sky was lit with flashes of destruction, but Gaara’s sand remained resilient, absorbing most of the impact. Then—

     Deidara’s grin widened. “Got you, yeah.”

     Gaara’s eyes flickered with mild surprise as he noticed something. His sand had been laced with microscopic clay insects—ones that had already detonated inside of it. Before he could react, a chain of explosions erupted within his own defenses.

     BOOM!

     For the first time, Gaara staggered mid-air, a portion of his sand shield crumbling away.

     Deidara’s laugh echoed through the sky. “Heh. Thought you were untouchable, yeah?”

     Gaara silently regarded the situation, his mind processing the intricacies of Deidara’s jutsu. “He’s implanting explosives within my own sand.”

     That meant—

     Gaara clenched his fist.

     His sand shifted dramatically, retreating back toward him, forming a dense sphere that encased his body completely.

     “Saikō Zettai Bōgyo: Shukaku no Tate!” (Absolute Defense: Shield of Shukaku)

     Deidara raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Hiding now?”

     He tossed another handful of clay preparing to launch more explosives, but then he noticed something. His hands weren’t moving properly. His fingers trembled slightly, a strange weight settling over his body.

     “What the—?”

     Deidara’s eyes snapped to the battlefield below, where Gaara’s sand had extended subtly across the rooftops toward him.

     Gaara’s calm voice finally broke the silence. “You’re within my domain now.”

     The sand beneath Deidara’s bird suddenly exploded upward, forming thousands of grasping hands, weighing his mount down.

     Deidara’s smirk faltered. “He’s trying to crush me.”

     Gaara’s eyes glowed faintly, his chakra surging. “Sabaku Kyū!” (Sand Coffin)

     The sky trembled as the desert itself reached for Deidara, attempting to drag him into its crushing embrace.

     Sasuke rolled his shoulder, flexing his fingers as he watched Sasori carefully. “I wasn’t taking this seriously before. Guess I got a little too comfortable.”

     A small smirk curled his lips, his dark eyes gleaming with excitement despite the blood trickling down his arm.

     Sasori, standing unscathed on the rooftop opposite him, studied Sasuke with mild intrigue. “So this is the infamous bounty hunter.”

     He had heard whispers of ‘Weasel’ in underground circles: a phantom that took down high-profile shinobi and collected their bounties like it was some.

     “To think I’d meet him in person.” Sasori’s eyes flickered over Sasuke’s appearance.

     “The rumors didn’t mention you looked like an absolute degenerate,” he said dryly. “All those piercings, all those tattoos…”

     Sasuke let out a low, amused chuckle.

     Sasori’s gaze narrowed slightly. “Those markings… they’re not just for show, are they?”

     Sasuke grinned, deciding to show off the sealing tattoos etched into his skin. 

     “Perceptive,” Sasuke mused. “Yeah, they’re seals.” He tilted his head, his tone dripping with dark amusement. “I like to think of myself as a bit of a pioneer when it comes to jutsu. Mixing things up, experimenting—pushing the boundaries of what’s possible.”

     Sasori hummed, unreadable. “A shame you waste it on nonsense.”

     Sasuke’s grin widened, his eyes gleaming with something unhinged. “You wanna see a magic trick?”

     Before Sasori could respond, he struck, sending a wave of Iron Sand laced with poison hurtling toward Sasuke at blistering speed. Sasuke stood still, smirking—then, at the last second, his hand shot into the center of his chest seal. With a flash of chakra, his fingers wrapped around a hilt. In one fluid motion, Sasuke pulled a sword from his own body, the blade gleaming with lightning as it effortlessly sliced through the incoming projectiles.

     CLANG!

     The Iron Sand shattered, harmless sparks flying as Sasuke twisted his sword effortlessly, letting the last remnants of the attack fall to the ground.

     Sasori’s eyes flickered with intrigue. “He hid a weapon inside a sealing mark on his own body? Impressive.”

     Sasuke spun the sword in his grip, stepping forward. “That was cute, but let’s spice things up.”

     With a flick of his free hand, he slammed a kunai into the ground, the intricate seals on the blade pulsing with chakra.

     Sasori’s eyes narrowed.

     Sasuke grinned. “Abracadabra!”

     BOOM!

     The entire rooftop exploded in a violent detonation, sending debris and dust hurtling in all directions.

     High above the village, Gaara and Deidara were momentarily caught off guard by the explosion below. 

     Deidara’s eyes widened slightly, though a hint of admiration flickered across his face. “Heh. That guy knows how to put on a show, yeah?”

     Before he could appreciate it further, a tidal wave of sand slammed into him, sending him reeling mid-air.

     “Shit—!”

     Deidara barely managed to maneuver his clay dragon, flipping himself to avoid getting completely enveloped. Gaara remained motionless, save for the subtle movements of his fingers, directing his sand like a conductor commanding an orchestra.

     With a flick of his wrist, sharp tendrils of sand erupted from below, lashing toward Deidara with vicious speed.

     Deidara gritted his teeth, forming a hand seal. ”C2: Nendo no Hebi!” (C2: Clay Serpents)

     Two massive clay snakes launched from his pouch, twisting and writhing before colliding with the incoming sand tendrils.

     BOOM!

     The air shook from the force of the explosion, but Gaara’s sand remained relentless, flowing past the destruction and continuing its pursuit.

     Deidara barely managed to jump back onto his dragon, sweat forming on his brow. “Tch. He’s adapting too fast.”

     Gaara, expression unreadable, raised his hands once more. With an eerie stillness, the sand beneath the village rose in waves, shaping into monstrous hands that reached for Deidara from all sides.

     “Sabaku Sōsō.” (Desert Funeral)

     The air thickened, the weight of the attack immense.

     Deidara’s eyes widened. “If that gets me, I’m dead.”

     With no time to waste, Deidara bit down hard on his thumb, smearing blood across his palm before slamming it onto his clay bird. “Katsu!”

     The bird detonated in a massive explosion, sending a shockwave so strong it disrupted Gaara’s sand for just a moment—long enough for Deidara to maneuver above the attack. From above, he grinned. “Not bad, Kazekage.”

     Sasuke pulled himself out of the rubble effortlessly, his cloak in tatters. Without hesitation he shrugged it off, discarding it in the nearby rubble. 

     Sasori stood on an opposite rooftop, completely unscathed—though Hiruko, his puppet armor, lay in pieces behind him, obliterated by the explosion. Now exposed, Sasori’s true form was finally revealed. A young man’s face, frozen in time, with a strange, hollow expression. His body was sleek, unnatural—crafted of wood and metal rather than flesh and bone.

     Sasuke tilted his head, intrigued. “Oh? So that’s your real body. Interesting…”

     Sasori lifted his fingers slightly, and from behind him, the Third Kazekage puppet emerged, its mechanical eyes gleaming with silent malice. Sasori’s voice was calm, detached.

      “You destroyed one of my favorites, such a shame, but this one—” he gestured to the Kazekage puppet, “—is far more valuable.”

     Sasuke stood calmly amidst the wreckage, his arms pulsing faintly with chakra, eyes locked onto the Third Kazekage puppet as it hovered beside Sasori. “That puppet is the real problem. If I take it out, his offensive power drops significantly.”

     He needed a plan. A strategy. A way to break through that Iron Sand before it overwhelmed him. Sasori, unfazed, raised a hand, commanding the puppet to strike. The Kazekage puppet surged forward, its arms splitting apart, releasing a torrent of Iron Sand spikes that converged on Sasuke from all sides like an unrelenting storm.

     “Tch—!”

     Sasuke ducked and weaved, his movements razor-sharp, evading the blackened spears with inhuman precision. “I can’t get close like this. The moment I step in, he’ll crush me with that Iron Sand. But…”

     Sasuke’s fingers twitched, and the sealing marks along his arms pulsed faintly. He quickly pulled out another sword from his chest seal, holding it defensively with one hand. 

     “He’s never fought someone who weaponized fuinjutsu.”

     With a swift hand sign, he slammed his palm onto the ground.

     “Jūryoku rokku!” (Gravity Lock)

     A sudden pulse of chakra erupted outward. The air thickened, and in an instant, the Iron Sand lurched, slowing down dramatically as if caught in an invisible force.

     Sasori’s eyes narrowed. “A seal capable of disrupting even magnetized material? That’s dangerous.”

     Sasuke grinned darkly as he shot forward, sword crackling with lightning chakra. The Kazekage puppet tried to react, but its movements were sluggish, weighed down by the Gravity Lock seal.

     “Too slow.”

     With one clean slash, Sasuke’s blade carved through the puppet’s midsection, severing its chakra threads in an instant.

     CRACK!

     The Third Kazekage puppet shattered, its remains collapsing to the ground in a heap of broken wood and metal. Sasori stood motionless for a brief moment, his unreadable gaze locked onto the remains of his prized puppet. Then, with a calm, fluid motion, he unsealed a storage scroll from his sleeve.

     Sasuke’s eyes narrowed as he felt the immense chakra surge from the parchment. A hundred figures emerged from the scroll, filling the battlefield with a swarm of deadly precision-crafted puppets, each crafted with chilling detail, their lifeless eyes gleaming in the desert sun, weapons tipped with lethal poisons.

     Sasuke’s breath hitched for a split second as he took in the sight. “This… is why the Akatsuki are feared.”

     The sheer number, the coordination, the deadliness of it all. He let out a slow breath, forcing his mind into high-gear analysis.

    “There’s no way to dodge all of them. They’ll attack from every direction, from every angle.”

     Sasori’s voice broke the silence.

     “You’re quite impressive, for a bounty hunter,” he mused, his tone eerily calm. “I’ll grant you a special honor.”

     Sasori lifted a single finger, and the hundred puppets simultaneously took a step forward.

     “I’ll turn your body into one of my collection.”

     Sasuke’s eye twitched. “Why are all these creepy old men so interested in me?!”

     Inner Sasuke cackled in amusement, mocking him relentlessly.

     “Aww, look at that, Sasuke! You’re in high demand~”

     “Maybe he just wants to preserve your beauty for eternity~”

     “You should be flattered, honestly.”

     “SHUT UP!” Sasuke snarled aloud, making even Sasori raise an eyebrow. But he had no time to argue with his inner voices.

     The puppets moved in, blades gleaming, poison glistening on their edges.

     Sasuke tightened his grip on his sword. “Time to see if I can break the legend.”

——-

     Far above the village, Gaara’s eyes widened at the sheer number of puppets flooding the battlefield below. “A hundred…?”

     The Kazekage had fought many battles, but even he had never faced something quite like this. A cackle from his opponent snapped him back to his own fight.

      Deidara, grinning wildly, hovered atop his clay bird, watching the spectacle unfold. “Heh! That Weasel bastard is dead! This is Sasori-Danna’s ultimate technique, yeah!”

     Gaara narrowed his eyes.

     “Weasel!” he called, his voice echoing through the battlefield below. “Watch out!”

     Sasuke, still surrounded, simply grinned, his body crackling with energy.

     Deidara, however, took Gaara’s momentary distraction as an opening. “Big mistake, yeah!”

     A small clay bomb darted toward Gaara at high speed, but Gaara’s sand reacted instantly, shielding him from the explosion with ease. The blast dispersed harmlessly, but Deidara was already on the move, forming more clay constructs in the air.

     “Heh… Let’s see how you handle this, Kazekage.”

     The aerial battle intensified, explosions ripping through the sky, sand whipping violently in response. But below—

    Sasuke stood alone against an army and he was grinning.

    Sasuke’s fighting style shifted—what had once been precise and calculated now became erratic, violent, and borderline deranged. With wild, unpredictable movements, he tore through Sasori’s puppets. He abandoned clean dodges, instead allowing minor injuries, grinning when poisoned blades barely nicked him, only for him to instantly burn away the toxins with medical ninjutsu.

    His chakra-infused fists shattered wooden limbs. His blade—drawn from his body seals—sliced through reinforced joints. And when a puppet lunged at him from behind, he grabbed it with his bare hands, twisted its head off, and hurled it into the others like a wrecking ball.

     Sasori watched, analyzing. “His movements are reckless… but effective. He’s deliberately making himself look vulnerable, yet he never allows himself a fatal opening.”

     Sasuke was stalling, and Sasori knew it. But why?

     Sasuke’s seals pulsed, sending waves of chakra into the air. Above them, the sky began to shift.

     Sasuke continued his frenzied assault, but his true focus lay elsewhere. “The desert is a disadvantage for me. No natural water sources, no real cover. But… that just means I have to make my own battlefield.”

     Between flashes of taijutsu, kenjutsu, and bursts of different elemental ninjutsus, he subtly wove together a complex network of Water and Wind Release techniques. Each strike against a puppet sent a thin mist into the air. Each dodge kicked up just enough wind to coax the forming storm clouds above. Sasori, too preoccupied with controlling his hundred puppets, failed to notice the shift in the environment.

     The puppets continued to attack from all sides. Sasuke slammed his hands together, channeling massive amounts of chakra into the air. The clouds rumbled ominously.

     “Almost there… Just a little more—”

     A blade lunged for his throat. Sasuke let it graze him, using the momentum to drive his fist into another puppet’s core, sending it crashing into three others. He exhaled sharply.

     “Now…”

     His grin widened as his seals activated, replenishing his chakra reserves. Then—

     BOOM.

    Lightning split the sky in half, illuminating the battlefield in a terrifying glow. Sasuke lifted a single hand, his fingers trembling with power.

     “Kirin.”

     A colossal bolt of lightning ripped through the sky. The air superheated instantly, the pressure alone crushing the weaker puppets before the lightning even touched them, and when it did—

    BOOM.

    A shockwave tore through the battlefield, shattering every remaining puppet in a single, all-consuming burst of destruction. The hundred puppets—Sasori’s ultimate technique—were reduced to nothing but smoldering fragments.

    Sasori stood amidst the wreckage, unfazed. Then, a small chuckle.

     “…Impressive,” Sasori mused. His voice, still unnervingly calm, carried a hint of genuine respect. “You remind me of Orochimaru.”

     Sasuke tensed slightly, but said nothing. Deidara, however—

     “Sasori! Get the hell out of there!”

     Sasuke turned just in time to see Deidara, still airborne, frantically backing away. Gaara rose alongside him, his sand forming a colossal hand, ready to snatch Deidara out of the sky.

     “It’s already too late,” Gaara stated coldly.

    Deidara gritted his teeth. “Damn it! If I stay, I’m dead! Sasori’s on his own!”

    BOOM.

    A massive clay explosion erupted between him and Gaara—his final diversion. When the smoke cleared, Deidara was gone. 

    Sasori didn’t flinch. He merely closed his eyes briefly, before refocusing entirely on Sasuke. The battlefield grew silent, save for the distant rumbling of the dying storm. Sasuke cracked his neck, flexing his fingers as if preparing for round two.

     Sasori clicked his tongue in irritation. “Tch. I didn’t want to use this body… but I expected it would come to this.”

     His last puppet had been obliterated, his entire arsenal of weapons rendered useless by Sasuke’s overwhelming force. That meant one thing—

     He would fight using his true form.

     Sasori’s tossed away his Akatsuki cloak, revealing himself. His core, glowing ominously, pulsed within his chest.

     “I underestimated him,” Sasori admitted to himself, his mechanical fingers flexing. “If I don’t take him down now, there’s no telling how powerful he’ll become.”

     Without another thought, he launched forward, a storm of poison-laced projectiles and bladed appendages spiraling toward Sasuke.

      Sasuke’s eyes gleamed with bloodlust as he prepared to counter, but before he could even move a crushing wave of sand exploded between them.

      CRACK!

      Sasori’s puppet body was caught mid-air, trapped between the crushing weight of Gaara’s sand coffin. Sasori’s eyes widened, his reflexes kicking in—

     But before he could react, Gaara mercilessly compressed his body, splintering limbs and mechanical joints apart in a single, violent motion.

     CRUNCH!

     Sasori’s torso shattered, his puppet body reduced to nothing but scraps, but a glowing object shot out from the remains—

     Sasori’s core.

     Before the core could hit the ground, Sasuke moved like lightning. His arm seal glowed, a storage scroll appearing instantly in his grasp.

     “Gotcha.”

     With a single fluid motion, Sasuke unrolled the scroll, pressing his hand onto its surface. Fuinjutsu seals expanded rapidly, wrapping around the core like a serpent before sucking it into the scroll with a final, resounding—

    SLAM.

     The moment it was sealed, Sasuke pressed his hand to his own chest, activating a separate seal. The scroll vanished, now stored inside his own body.

     Gaara descended gracefully, his piercing gaze locking onto Sasuke. Sasuke, unbothered, casually strolled forward, plucking Sasori’s puppet head from the sand. He inspected it briefly before smirking. “I’d like to cash in this bounty after everything’s settled.”

    Gaara nodded silently, but his attention quickly shifted—

     Kankuro.

     His eyes widened as he remembered. Without another word, Gaara flashed toward the village gates, his sand propelling him at high speed.

     Sasuke watched him go, briefly debating whether to follow, but then, something gleamed in the rain-soaked battlefield. His gaze snapped toward it. There, half-buried in the mud, was a strange ring.

     Sasuke walked over and picked it up. He twirled it between his fingers, inspecting the intricate design. 

     A keepsake? A relic? A tool? He pocketed it.

    “This might come in handy later.”

    Sasuke grumbled in irritation as medics dragged him into the hospital. “I was fine, damn it.”

    But once inside, his attention shifted. Several guards, including Kankuro, were writhing in pain, their veins darkened by an eerie purple hue. Sasuke recognized the symptoms immediately: Sasori’s poison.

     The medics were desperate, struggling to concoct an antidote.

     “Hmph. Why waste time?” Sasuke saw an opportunity. He approached Kankuro, much to the medics’ alarm. “Move.”

    They hesitated.

    Gaara narrowed his eyes. “You can cure him?”

    Sasuke smirked as he pulled out a seal from his arm. “Let’s find out.”

    He pressed a seal against Kankuro’s abdomen, his tattooed seals glowing ominously. “I’ve never used my purging seals like this before… but in theory it should work.”

    He focused his chakra, activating the intricate series of fuinjutsu formulas embedded within the seal. The seal began to pulse, drawing out the poison from Kankuro’s body like ink being siphoned from a scroll.

    The medics and Gaara watched in silent astonishment as the purple hue in Kankuro’s veins started to fade. After a few tense moments the poison was completely neutralized.

    Kankuro’s breathing steadied. His pain subsided.

    Gasps filled the room.

    Sasuke simply cracked his neck. “Hah. Looks like it worked.”

     Gaara, standing silently, studied Sasuke with an unreadable expression. “Just how powerful is this man?”

     For the first time in a long while—

     The Kazekage felt the smallest, most unsettling pang of unease.

     The aftermath of the Akatsuki’s attack left Sunagakure in disarray, but the village was already working to rebuild. Several buildings had been reduced to rubble, and deep craters scarred the streets where Deidara’s explosions had landed. But Suna was resilient. The shinobi and villagers worked tirelessly to repair the damage.

     In the midst of this, Sasuke decided to stay for another day, lending his skills where he could—whether it was neutralizing remaining traces of Sasori’s poison, helping reinforce structures with earth release, or tracking Deidara’s movements through his network of ninnekos. For the moment, however, Sasuke was enjoying some well-earned rest and profit.

     In the Kazekage’s office, Sasuke sat casually at Gaara’s desk, leaning back in a chair with his feet propped up. A small pile of ryo was stacked neatly in front of him as he counted through his earnings from cashing in Sasori’s bounty. Gaara, as usual, was calm and silent, sipping tea while reviewing reports from the attack. That was until the doors slammed open.

     “What the hell happened here?!”

     Temari stormed inside, eyes wide with shock as she took in the destroyed landscape outside the window. She had just returned from Konoha, where she had served as Suna’s proctor for the Chuunin Exams. Now she was greeted by the sight of her home in ruins. Her gaze flickered to Sasuke, who barely acknowledged her presence, still focused on his money. “…And who the hell is this?”

     Gaara sighed, setting his papers aside.

     “This is Weasel,” Gaara said evenly. “The notorious bounty hunter.”

     Sasuke casually waved a hand without looking up. “Yo.”

     Temari’s eyes narrowed. “What’s he doing in Suna?”

    At this, Sasuke finally glanced up, smirking. 

    “I figured the Akatsuki were after tailed beasts,” Sasuke said. “Obviously their first move would be to come after Gaara, considering he’s the One-Tails’ jinchūriki. That’s common knowledge, after all—especially since, y’know, you guys did try to destroy Konoha over three years ago.”

     Silence.

     Gaara remained calm, but Temari was immediately on edge. Her hand twitched toward her fan.

     “…How do you know that?” she asked.

    Sasuke leaned forward, resting his chin on his palm.

     “I’ve always been around,” he said with a smirk. “Even when people least expect it.”

     He tapped his temple.

    “I’ve got connections in the criminal underworld—enough to rival Jiraiya of the Sannin. Word spreads fast.”

     Gaara’s expression remained unreadable.

     “What happened then is in the past,” Gaara stated. “Things have changed.”

     Sasuke shrugged. “Maybe, but what hasn’t changed is the Akatsuki. They’re still a problem.” He flicked a coin into the air and caught it between his fingers. “And since Deidara got away that problem isn’t going away just yet.”

     Temari’s shoulders tensed. “…He got away?”

     “Yeah, but he’s already being tracked,” Sasuke said nonchalantly. “My ninnekos are on him. It’s just a matter of time.”

     Temari pinched the bridge of her nose, clearly stressed.

     “I don’t trust you,” she finally said.

     Sasuke grinned, tossing a coin onto the desk. “Smart. I wouldn’t trust me either.”

     Temari blinked at his blunt response.

     Sasuke leaned back in his chair. “I mean, let’s be real: I’m mentally unwell, probably shouldn’t have access to half the weapons in my arsenal, definitely shouldn’t be allowed within six feet of a bar or tattoo shop, and—”, he gestured vaguely, “—am, according to the voices in my head and now my enemies, an absolute fucking degenerate.”

    Gaara rubbed his temples. Temari let out a small laugh.

     “Well, at least you’re self-aware,” she muttered. “And yeah, your appearance doesn’t help your case, either.”

     Sasuke pointed at one of his many tattoos.

     “Oh, this?” He grinned. “I mostly did this to piss off my inner.”

     Temari stared, opening her mouth, then closing it. “…Your what?”

     Sasuke ignored the question entirely.

     Gaara sighed.

     “What else do you want?” he asked. “Aside from Sasori’s bounty, which you’ve already got.”

     Sasuke tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Hmm…temporary diplomatic immunity.”

     Gaara raised a brow.

     “At least until I get out of Wind Country,” Sasuke clarified. “Oh, and a new cloak. My old one didn’t make it out of the battle.” He shook his head. “Which is a shame. I treasured that thing… even though it was already ruined and Nekomata put a few too many holes in it.”

     Gaara exhaled slowly.

     “I can get you a new cloak,” he said, “but I don’t know if the council or daimyo would allow you temporary immunity. You are a criminal.”

     Sasuke shrugged. “I’ll take whatever I can get.”

     With that, he suddenly stood and leapt over both Gaara and his desk, diving straight out the window. As he fell, his voice echoed through the office—

     “WORK ON YOUR GUARD ROTATIONS!”

     Temari rushed to the window, staring after him in disbelief. “WHAT THE HELL—?!”

    She cursed loudly, shaking her head in frustration.

     Gaara simply sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “This is going to be a very long day.”

     Deidara was pissed. He sat cross-legged atop his clay bird, arms crossed, bitterly pouting as he soared across the sky. The wind whipped through his blond hair, but he barely noticed. His mind was too occupied with the absolute disaster of a mission he had just escaped from. Not only had he barely made it out of Suna alive… but he had done so without the One-Tails. That fact alone made his stomach churn with dread.

     “Pain is going to fucking kill me.”

     Pain didn’t tolerate failure. Ever.

     Deidara clicked his tongue in irritation, his blue eye twitching as he glared at the desert below. He had lost Sasori, lost the chance to capture Gaara, and worst of all…

     “That damn bounty hunter.” His grip on his knee tightened as he gritted his teeth. “That fucking Weasel ruined everything.”

     He hadn’t even seen him coming. One second, he was preparing to fight Gaara, and the next, he was flying straight through a goddamn building thanks to a surprise kick. And then, as if that weren’t enough, the bastard casually announced he was there to collect his bounty, like he was some prize to be won.

     Deidara clenched his fists. He had never felt so humiliated in his life. Not only had he failed the mission, but he had lost his partner too.

     His lips curled into a grimace. Sasori’s dead. Deidara hadn’t seen it happen, but he knew. There was no way Sasori had survived against Weasel and the Kazekage together. That freak was a mechanical monstrosity, but even he had his limits.

     Deidara sighed, shoulders slumping slightly. “…This day couldn’t get any worse, yeah.”

     A few hours later, Deidara finally landed on the outskirts of the Land of Wind. The dry desert air had given way to a more rugged landscape—rocky outcrops and sparse vegetation stretching before him. He dismissed his clay bird, letting it crumble into harmless dust, and made his way toward a shaded tree. He collapsed against the trunk, stretching his legs out and letting his head rest against the bark.

     For a moment, he simply breathed. Then the ground shifted. A dark shape slithered up from the soil beside him, two golden eyes gleaming in the dim light.

     “Deidara,” Zetsu’s voice echoed, half-smooth, half-guttural.

     Deidara groaned, not even bothering to look at him. “The hell do you want?”

     “We already know the answer, but… how did the mission go?” Zetsu asked, amusement laced in his tone.

     Deidara grumbled, rubbing his temples. “Like absolute shit, yeah.”

     He exhaled sharply before launching into a retelling of events—the Kazekage, the battle, the bounty hunter, Sasori’s death, and his escape. He left nothing out, knowing that Zetsu would report everything to Pain and Konan. 

     By the time he finished, he was seething. His fingers twitched, mouth-hands chewing at bits of clay instinctively as he glared into the distance.

     “That bastard Weasel… I swear, I’ll kill him with my art, un.”

     Zetsu chuckled, his black half grinning. “Revenge, huh? You’re not the only one who wants him dead.”

    “Yeah, well, unlike the rest of the losers with a price on his head, I actually have the skill to do it.” Deidara growled, kicking a rock. “Next time I won’t let him catch me off guard.”

     Zetsu simply smirked before sinking back into the ground. Deidara huffed, crossing his arms again as he stared up at the darkening sky. Pain was going to be furious.

     From the shadows of a nearby rock formation, a lone figure watched. A man draped in an Akatsuki cloak, his face concealed by a swirling orange mask. Tobi—or rather, Obito Uchiha—had been observing the entire conversation.

     And he was… intrigued.

     Deidara’s words replayed in his mind.

     “The bounty hunter, Weasel.”

     Obito’s visible eye narrowed slightly, gaze shifting downward to the object in his hand: a well-worn Bingo Book. He flipped it open to a specific page, eyes scanning the details. Weasel—an infamously elusive bounty hunter. High-level threat. Approach with caution.

     The picture beside the description wasn’t great—grainy and distant, clearly snapped without the target’s knowledge, but the distinctive features were there. A strong jawline, dark eyes, black hair…

     Obito’s gaze flicked to the next page. Uchiha Sasuke. The old photo was from when Sasuke was still a Genin. But the resemblance…

     Obito stared at the two images side by side. They were almost identical. A slow, amused chuckle rumbled from his throat.

     “Well now… isn’t this interesting?”

     He had heard rumors of Weasel before, but never in his wildest expectations did he think he might actually be Sasuke Uchiha.

     “How the hell did this happen?”

     Sasuke was supposed to be with Orochimaru. That’s what his informants told him. That’s what everybody in the Great Shinobi Nations believes , especially Konoha. But the fact that the Uchiha is running rampant in the world and became a notorious bounty hunter… 

    Obito smirked beneath his mask. “Oh, I won’t tell anyone about this just yet.”

     No, this was far too entertaining to ruin so soon. Instead, he would sit back and watch. He wanted to see how far Sasuke would grow. How powerful he would become. How much chaos he could cause.

     “This is going to be fun.”

Chapter Text

     The Land of Wind was a dusty, dry hellscape, and Sasuke was glad to be out of it. The heat, the sand, the never-ending wind—all of it had been grating on his patience. Even now, as he walked through a small, quiet village nestled between the mountains, he still felt grains of sand in his boots. It had only been a few days since his fight with Sasori, and while his body had healed completely, he was still mentally exhausted.

     So, when he saw the warm glow of a traditional bathhouse and sauna, he made a quick decision. “I deserve a fucking break.”

     After all, he had just taken down a goddamn member of the Akatsuki and made a hefty sum off his bounty. As he stepped inside the steaming bathhouse, Inner Sasuke whispered slyly.

     “Gaara landed the finishing blow, though.”

     Sasuke’s eye twitched as he discarded his clothes, cloak, and shoes, stepping into the soothing warmth of the sauna. “I would’ve struck him down with Kirin if Gaara hadn’t gotten to him first.”

     Even now, he was still bitter about it. Sure, he’d done most of the fighting, but the final attack? That had gone to Gaara. But as far as Sasuke was concerned?

     “I’m taking credit for the kill.”

     Letting out a slow, content sigh, he leaned back against the wooden wall, closing his eyes as the heat seeped into his muscles. For a moment, there was peace.

     By the time Sasuke stepped out of the sauna, his mind was already back on track. His next priority was tracking down Deidara. After everything that had happened, there was no doubt the blonde had already fled to his leader.

     Sasuke snickered as he walked through the village, making his way toward a secluded spot where he could summon a ninneko. “I can’t imagine serving someone like that.”

      The very idea made his skin crawl. The only authority Sasuke had ever respected was Kakashi and, reluctantly, Tsunade. And even then…

     He exhaled, shoving his hands into his pockets. Tsunade was a decent Hokage, leagues better than the last one, but she was also the one who had stripped him of his shinobi status. Officially, Sasuke was no longer a Konoha shinobi.

      “Not that it really matters. They only want me back because of the Sharingan—nothing more, nothing less.”

     Evading capture had been laughably easy. His appearance changed so frequently that most people didn’t even recognize him. His tattoos, piercings, scars—all intentional. Most of it was because he wanted to look less and less like an Uchiha and even more than that—less like Itachi.

     But some things… He ran a hand through his messy black hair, sighing.

     “Some genes are just too damn strong.”

     His pale skin, his hair, his eyes—those were things he couldn’t easily change. Or could he?

     He paused mid-step, an idea forming. “Is there a type of hair dye I could use?”

     Before he could even consider the logistics, Inner Sasuke erupted in an uproar.

     “Sakura-pink! Sakura-pink! Sakura-pink!”

     Sasuke immediately regretted the thought. “Oh, fuck off.”

     It took Deidara days to return to Amegakure. Each passing hour had been filled with dread. By the time he reached the outskirts of the rain-soaked city, his stomach twisted with unease.

     “I’m not making it out of this with my limbs intact, yeah.”

     The towering metal structures loomed in the mist, their surfaces slick from the constant downpour. The Akatsuki base itself wasn’t anything grand—just an unassuming, industrial-style building hidden among the countless others in Ame, but Deidara knew the moment he stepped inside he was screwed.

     He took a deep breath and entered. He barely made it ten steps before something blocked his path. A tall, imposing figure with piercings and Rinnegan eyes loomed in the dim hallway.

     One of Pain’s Six Paths.

     Deidara’s throat went dry. Before he could say anything, the figure grabbed his wrist in a crushing grip. “Ah, shit—”

     No words were exchanged. He was dragged forward, shoes scraping against the floor, his heartbeat pounding louder with every step. Pain’s presence was heavy, suffocating even through the silence.

     Deidara was shoved into the main chamber—a massive, dimly lit room with a singular throne at the center. Sitting atop it was Pain himself, beside him, Konan stood with her arms crossed, expression unreadable. The room was silent, save for the sound of rain pattering against the walls.

     Deidara gulped. He was so fucked.

     “…Report.” Pain’s voice was calm, but absolute.

      Deidara swallowed hard before forcing himself to speak. “We… we failed, yeah.”

      Pain’s piercing gaze remained locked onto him. “Elaborate.”

     Deidara exhaled sharply, then explained everything. The Kazekage’s interference, the bounty hunter, Weasel, Sasori’s death, and escape. By the time he finished, the air was tense.

     Pain sat in silence for several seconds before slowly rising from his throne. “Not only did you fail to retrieve the One-Tail…” His eyes burned into Deidara’s skull. “…but you lost a valuable member of the Akatsuki.”

     Deidara didn’t dare move. Then—pain.

     Agony exploded through his body as an invisible force crushed him, sending him crashing into the ground. His bones screamed from the pressure. Konan didn’t even flinch.

     “You were careless,” Pain continued, stepping down from his throne. “Your arrogance cost us a comrade.”

     Deidara gritted his teeth, struggling to breathe.

     “I—I know that, yeah!” he gasped. “I… I won’t fail again!”

     Pain’s footsteps stopped. Then, suddenly—the weight vanished. Deidara gasped for breath, coughing violently as he tried to sit up. Pain stared down at him.

     “You are fortunate,” he said. “We still have use for you.”

     Deidara’s entire body ached, but he forced himself to kneel.

     “You will not fail again,” Pain stated. “Or next time, I will not be so merciful.”

     Deidara shuddered at the implication.

     “Y-yes, leader,” he muttered.

     Pain turned away. “Leave.”

     Deidara didn’t hesitate. He stumbled to his feet, barely holding himself together, and staggered out of the chamber. As the doors shut behind him, he exhaled shakily.

      “I’m gonna kill that fucking bounty hunter.”

     Team Seven trudged through the gates of Konoha, every step weighed down by exhaustion. The latest C-rank mission had been simple in theory: escort a merchant caravan through the Fire Country’s trade routes, but it had turned into an absolute nightmare of bandit attacks, broken carts, and entitled clients.

     Naruto groaned, stretching his sore arms behind his head. “I’m about done with merchants for the next century.”

     Sakura, normally the level-headed one, sighed deeply. “Agreed, and that’s saying something because my parents are merchants.”

     Kakashi, for once, wasn’t even pretending to read his book—just silently suffering alongside them.

     As they walked further into the village, the bustle of activity caught their attention. Whispers and hurried discussions filled the streets, shinobi passing information between themselves like wildfire. Then, they heard it.

     “Did you hear? The Akatsuki attacked Suna!”

     Team Seven snapped to attention.

     Naruto’s exhaustion vanished instantly. “What?! What happened?”

     A nearby chūnin turned to them, face grave. “The Akatsuki sent two members after the Kazekage. But get this—” He lowered his voice, eyes gleaming with a mix of disbelief and admiration. “—A bounty hunter took them both on and won.”

     Team Seven froze.

     “…What?” Sakura’s brow furrowed.

     The chūnin nodded. “Yeah. He calls himself ‘Weasel’. He supposedly took on both Akasuna no Sasori and the terrorist bomber Deidara alone and won.”

     Naruto’s mouth fell open. “No way…”

     “Sasori’s dead,” the chūnin continued. “The Kazekage confirmed it. Deidara barely got away with his life. And get this: Weasel cashed in Sasori’s bounty. That guy must be loaded now.”

     Sakura and Naruto exchanged looks of pure shock. Kakashi remained silent, but beneath the mask, his mind was racing.

     Naruto scratched the back of his head, his mind trying to process everything. “…Huh.”

     Kakashi turned to him. “Something on your mind, Naruto?”

     Naruto nodded slowly. “I didn’t know this ’Weasel‘ guy was that strong…”

     Sakura frowned. “Wait. You’ve heard of him?”

     Naruto hesitated. “Uh… yeah.”

     Kakashi and Sakura’s gazes sharpened.

     “…Elaborate,” Kakashi said, voice unreadable.

      Naruto groaned. “Okay, okay! So, like… a while back, when me and Pervy Sage decided to stop by at a tavern on the way back to Konoha, I kinda—accidentally ran into him. He even bought me food!” 

     Sakura’s eye twitched. “Naruto—”

     Naruto quickly raised his hands. “I didn’t know he was a bounty hunter at the time!”

      Sakura looked ready to strangle him. “You—you sat down and ate with an S-rank criminal?!”

     Naruto winced. “Okay, when you say it like that, it sounds bad—”

     “Because it is bad, Naruto!” Sakura snapped.

     Kakashi, however, was far more focused on something else. “…What did you two talk about?”

     Naruto sighed. “Well… honestly? I just kinda… vented about Sasuke.”

     Sakura and Kakashi’s expressions went pale. “…You what?”

     “I mean—he bought me food! And we just got to talking and, y’know, I was thinking about Sasuke, so I kinda—”

     “Naruto.” Naruto winced. Kakashi’s tone was suddenly very serious. “Did Weasel seem… interested in Sasuke?”

     Naruto hesitated. “…I dunno, man. He just kinda listened. He didn't really say much.”

     Kakashi’s mind raced. This bounty hunter had taken down one of the most dangerous members of the Akatsuki, yet Naruto had met him beforehand, and he had been asking about Sasuke.

     Coincidence? Kakashi didn’t believe in coincidences. Something was up and he has yet to get to the bottom of it. 

      Somewhere in a different village, Sasuke sighed as he packed his belongings. The peace and quiet had been nice while it lasted, but it was time to move on before the wrong people figured out where he was. Then, as he passed by a vendor’s stall, something caught his eye: a freshly printed bingo book.

      Sasuke stopped. He pulled out some ryo and bought one, flipping through the pages—and then he saw it: his own face, front and center, right above Deidara’s. His bounty had risen. His alter ego had been credited for Sasori’s death.

     Sasuke sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m definitely fucked.”

     The people in the marketplace had noticed the book in his hands. They looked at him, then at the bounty listing, then back at him. Sasuke felt several killing intents flare up at once. A few bounty hunters started shifting toward him, hands hovering over their weapons.

     Sasuke sighed, rolling his shoulders. “This is going to be a long day.”

     Kisame’s raucous laughter echoed through the dimly lit room as he held out a freshly printed bingo book, shaking with amusement. Itachi, stoic as ever, sat on a small cot while a doctor—the same one Sasuke had recommended to him a few weeks ago—worked diligently on changing his bandages. The room smelled faintly of antiseptic, a stark contrast to the amusement radiating from the blue-skinned swordsman.

     Kisame wiped a stray tear from his eye. “Oh man, Itachi, you gotta see this!”

     Itachi silently took the book from his partner’s hand. His eyes flickered over the pages, and then he saw it:  Weasel. His brother’s alias. Sasuke...

     Itachi’s grip tightened. His already pale complexion lost even more color.

     “Sasuke… defeated Sasori?” Itachi’s voice was calm, but Kisame didn’t miss the slight waver beneath the words.

     Kisame grinned, showing razor-sharp teeth. “Yeah, and claimed his bounty, too. Kids these days, huh?”

     Itachi’s mind raced. Sasori had been one of the deadliest members of the Akatsuki, a master puppeteer and poison user. Even with preparation, taking him down was no easy feat.

     “What are you doing, Sasuke?”

     Kisame chuckled. “To be honest, I’m not that shocked. I knew your little brother was powerful, but taking down one of us? Didn’t expect that.”

     Itachi said nothing.

     Kisame leaned back against the wall, arms crossed. “I gotta say, though—I’m really curious to see how far he’ll go. He’s already on our level, and if he keeps this up…”

     He trailed off, smirking.

     Itachi, however, felt none of Kisame’s amusement. His fingers clenched around the book. “Sasuke, this is dangerous. The Akatsuki will not ignore this. You need to stop before it’s too late.”

     For the first time in years, Itachi found himself praying. “Amaterasu, protect him. Guide him away from this path. Let him return to Konoha where he will be safe.”

     But deep down, he knew. Sasuke wouldn’t stop until every single one of them were dead. 

     Rain pattered against the steel structures of Ame as Pain and Konan sat in a dimly lit office, their expressions grim. Before them stood Zetsu, his half-black, half-white form shifting slightly as he delivered his report.

     “Deidara wasn’t lying,” Zetsu confirmed. “The bounty hunter known as Weasel was responsible for Sasori’s death. Deidara barely escaped.”

     Pain steepled his fingers, his Rinnegan gleaming under the dim light.

     “This is… unexpected,” he murmured. “No one has made a move against the Akatsuki since Hanzo.”

     The mention of Hanzo’s name soured the air. Both Pain and Konan felt a sharp pang of memory—the betrayal, the deaths of their comrades, Yahiko’s tragic end—all because of that man. Pain’s gaze darkened.

     Konan, standing beside him, folded her arms. “This bounty hunter… Weasel. We should assume he’s an enemy.”

     Pain nodded. “He’s dangerous.”

     Zetsu tilted his head. “What should we do?”

     Konan’s eyes narrowed. “Keep constant surveillance on him. I don’t like this. Something about him… feels off.”

     Zetsu chuckled. “You’re not alone in that.”

     Pain remained silent for a moment.

     “This doesn’t feel right,” he finally admitted. “Something about this situation… is wrong.”

     Konan agreed. “We’re missing something.”

     The room fell into thoughtful silence. Outside, the rain continued to fall.

     A faint, eerie glow from various test tubes and bubbling liquids illuminated the dark, underground chamber. The scent of chemicals and decay filled the stale air.

     Orochimaru, clad in his usual robes, carefully examined a writhing experiment inside a containment tube. Then, the door creaked open.

     Kabuto entered, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Lord Orochimaru, there’s something you should know.”

     Orochimaru glanced at his subordinate. “Oh?”

     Kabuto smirked, holding up a bingo book. “The bounty hunter known as ’Weasel’ was responsible for Sasori’s death.”

     Orochimaru’s golden eyes widened slightly. “My, my…” He took the book, flipping to the page. “So, that wretched puppet master has finally fallen.”

     Orochimaru leaned back, a dark chuckle escaping his lips. “I remember Sasori well from my time in the Akatsuki. That man was a threat, even to me.” He tapped his fingers on the armrest. “And yet, some nobody rose from the shadows and struck him down?”

     Orochimaru’s grin widened. “Fascinating.”

     Kabuto adjusted his glasses. “This ’Weasel’…  He’s proving to be quite formidable.”

     Orochimaru chuckled. “He may be more interesting than even Sasuke Uchiha himself.”

     Kabuto arched a brow. “You think so?”

      “Oh, undoubtedly.” Orochimaru stood, pacing. “Sasuke has his Sharingan, yes, but this ‘Weasel’—this enigma—he has already slain an Akatsuki member. That takes more than just raw talent. That takes skill, strategy, and sheer ruthlessness.”

     Orochimaru’s eyes glimmered with intrigue. “…He would make for a wonderful host.”

     Kabuto nodded. “Shall we track him?”

      “Not yet,” Orochimaru said, smirking. “Let’s see where he goes. After all…” 

      He turned to a dark corner of the lab, where a large glass jar sat. Inside, his severed hand floated in preservation fluid—the same hand that once wore his Akatsuki ring. The ring gleamed ominously in the darkness. “…If he continues to rise, he may prove to be even more useful than Sasuke.”

     Orochimaru grinned. He would enjoy this game while it lasts…

Chapter Text

     Sasuke sat on a moss-covered rock, staring at the bingo book in his hands, his own face glaring back at him from the wanted section, right above Deidara’s no less.

     “Maybe making a public spectacle against the Akatsuki wasn’t the best idea.”

      Inner Sasuke immediately pounced.

     “You think? Genius move, boss.”

     “Oh nooo, who could’ve predicted that announcing yourself as a one-man Akatsuki hunter would backfire? Certainly not us!”

      “Excellent strategy, Future Hokage. What’s next? Challenging the Raikage to a fistfight?”

      Sasuke gritted his teeth and snapped the book shut. “Shut up.”

      “You started it.”

      Ignoring them, Sasuke adjusted his new appearance.

     He had already made several changes—his hair, for one, had been cut shorter. He didn’t want it getting too long and unruly. The next step had been a simple transformation seal—a low-level but effective disguise that altered his facial structure and hair color while concealing his chakra signature just enough to avoid casual detection.

     Now, his jet-black Uchiha locks were gone, replaced by a short, spiky mop of bright pink. He looked like a male version of Sakura. Inner Sasuke, naturally, was not pleased.

     “This is your fault.”

     “You were the ones who joked about pink hair.”

     “We didn’t think you’d actually do it!”

     Sasuke smirked slightly. “If I have to suffer listening to all of you, then you all have to suffer looking like this.”

     “You don’t even have to look at yourself.”

     “We do!”

     “This is like when we all got collectively dubbed Inner Sasuke without our consent!”

      Sasuke rolled his eyes. “I didn’t consent to any of you existing in my head, yet here we are. So you can all go pound sand.”

     The voices grumbled, but he could tell they were sulking. Good.

     The next few days were spent traveling. The ninnekos had already provided him with crucial information. Deidara had arrived at Amegakure, meaning Sasuke now had a generalized location of the Akatsuki’s base.

     “An isolationist country like Ame would be the perfect place for a terrorist organization to hide,” Sasuke mused. It was a far better location than Otogakure, which was only as strong as Orochimaru himself.

     Ame, on the other hand, had an entire infrastructure controlled by an unknown figure. If the Akatsuki had made it their home, that meant its leader was involved—or at least complicit.

     “That’s a problem for later,” he thought.

     For now, his main goal was retrieving the Executioner’s Blade.

     “Though… how the hell am I supposed to wield such a gigantic sword if I don’t even have kenjutsu training?”

     Inner Sasuke immediately piped up.

     “Just roll with it like you normally do.”

     “Yeah, pretty sure you’ve winged most of your major fights.”

     “You have superhuman strength and chakra control. You’ll figure it out. Probably.”

     Sasuke frowned. “I’m not Naruto.”

     “Sure, but you do have a tendency to just make things work when they really shouldn’t.”

     Sasuke actually took that into consideration. Maybe they had a point. “Tch. Fine. I’ll roll with it.”

     It was early in the afternoon when Sasuke arrived at the Land of Waves.

     The salty scent of the ocean breeze filled the air as he made his way through the small village, heading toward the Great Naruto Bridge. He came to a stop at its entrance, the memories came flooding back: The battle that had taken place here years ago, Zabuza, Haku, the first true fight of Team 7.

     Back then, he had thought they were strong, that Haku had been the fastest opponent he’d ever fought, that Zabuza had been a terrifying monster with a blade too large for normal people to wield. Now? Now, they were small fry compared to the monsters he was up against. Compared to Orochimaru. Compared to the Akatsuki. Compared to what he himself had become.

     Sasuke clenched his fists. “I’ve come a long  way… but it’s not enough.”

     His eyes flickered toward the vast ocean horizon stretching beyond the bridge. He needed to be even stronger for the sake of his precious people and he would stop at nothing to achieve that strength.

     Sasuke stepped into the village proper, his feet making almost no sound against the cobblestone streets. It had been years since he last set foot in the Land of Waves. Everything was different. The once poor, struggling village was now thriving. New buildings stood tall and proud, replacing the old, dilapidated homes that had once lined the streets. Merchants called out from colorful market stalls, offering fresh seafood, textiles, and trinkets. Children ran through the alleys, laughing without fear. It was nothing like the Land of Waves from his childhood.

     “Tazuna actually did it,” Sasuke mused, glancing at the towering Great Naruto Bridge in the distance. “This place has truly prospered.”

     He considered stopping by Tazuna’s home—perhaps checking in on Tsunami and Inari—but quickly shook the thought away.

     “I’m a missing-nin now. A highly wanted one.”

     If he dropped his disguise, it would put them in danger. His enemies would use them against him.

      “There’s no point in dragging them into this mess.”

      Inner Sasuke was less sentimental.

     “Oi. Quit reminiscing, emo boy. We’re here for Zabuza’s sword, remember?”

     “Yeah, yeah, let’s focus on the actual reason we came.”

     Sasuke exhaled through his nose. “Tch. I’m just blinded by nostalgia.”

     Pushing the past aside, he turned away from the village center and headed toward Zabuza and Haku’s final resting place.

     The grave site was quiet, untouched by the years. Simple wooden grave markers stood against the backdrop of a misty forest clearing. There, buried in the earth before Zabuza’s grave, was the Executioner’s Blade. The massive weapon stood hilt-up, its steel weathered from years of exposure. The blade had dulled slightly, but it remained whole, waiting for its next wielder.

     Sasuke approached, placing a hand on the rough leather grip. With a firm pull, he wrenched the sword free, the sheer weight of the weapon catching him off guard—it was far heavier than he anticipated. The sudden shift in balance nearly sent him stumbling backward.

     “Oh, shit—!”

     Digging his heels into the dirt, Sasuke quickly corrected himself, gripping the handle tightly with both hands. He took a moment to adjust, rolling his shoulders and flexing his grip before taking a practice swing. The blade sliced through the air with an audible whoosh, and the power behind it  was immense.

     “This thing… it’s incredible.”

     Another swing, and the blade carved a deep gash into the nearest tree, shearing through the thick wood effortlessly.

     Sasuke grinned. “Now this… this will be useful.”

     Not wanting to carry the massive weapon openly, he quickly sealed it away into the storage seal on his chest. With the Executioner’s Blade secured, he turned back toward the village. He needed to stock up on supplies before leaving.

     Back in the village, Sasuke moved efficiently through the marketplace. He restocked on dried rations, fresh bandages, and a few other travel essentials. The disguise helped him blend in easily—just another traveler passing through.

     Or so he thought.

     As he turned the corner, he bumped into someone.

     “Ah, sorry—” Sasuke started, but then froze. The boy in front of him—now a young man—was staring at him intently. It was Inari.

     The once tearful child had grown into a tall, sturdy teenager with a sharp gaze, wearing a carpenter’s tool belt around his waist.

     Inari blinked at Sasuke’s pink-haired disguise.

     “…Are you related to Sakura Haruno?” he asked.

     Sasuke internally winced. “Damn it. Of course, someone would notice.”

     Thinking fast, he forced a casual tone. “Something like that. I’m a long-lost relative.”

     Inari narrowed his eyes. “Uh-huh. That’s funny… because I don’t remember her mentioning any long-lost family.”

     Sasuke tensed. He was seeing through the lie. “Shit—time to go.”

     Without another word, he turned on his heel and walked away. Fast.

     Inari called after him. “Hey—wait a minute! Who are you really?”

     Sasuke ignored him and slipped into the crowd, vanishing into the busy streets before Inari could pursue. As he ducked into a quiet alleyway, he let out a sigh. “That’s enough excitement for one day.”

     It was time to move on.

Chapter Text

     Sasuke strode through the dense forest, grinning to himself as he thought about the massive sword now sealed within his chest.

     “I’m not a fan of grave robbing,” he admitted, rolling his shoulders. “But at the same time…”

     He couldn’t deny it—he had made out like a bandit. Not only did he now wield the Executioner’s Blade, one of the Seven Ninja Swords of the Mist, but it also served as a political bargaining tool. The shinobi world respected power and wielding such a legendary weapon could be a strong statement.

     “Zabuza’s name still carries weight. If nothing else, this sword will turn heads.”

     And more importantly? It would scare the hell out of his enemies.

     The mental image of pulling Kubikiribōchō from his chest seal mid-battle, shocking an opponent into utter disbelief, nearly made him laugh.

     “Can you imagine?” he mused. “They’d think I pulled a damn great sword out of my ribcage.”

     Inner Sasuke chimed in, equally amused.

     “Oh my god, we have GOT to do that at some point.”

     “The look on their faces would be priceless.”

     ”‘Oh no! Where did he pull that from?!’—‘How the hell is he swinging that thing?!’—Classic.”

     Sasuke smirked. “Yeah… That’d be hilarious.”

     For a moment, he let himself bask in the sheer absurdity of the thought, then reality snapped back into place. A sudden rustle of leaves. Footsteps. He whirled around, fingers already twitching toward a kunai, when a blur of fur darted toward him. A ninneko.

     The small feline—one of the summons he often relied on for reconnaissance—skidded to a stop, its ears twitching in urgency.

     “Sasuke,” it huffed, tail flicking. “We found something. Big news.”

     Sasuke tilted his head. “What is it?”

     “A base. Orochimaru has a lab near the Land of Waves.”

     Sasuke didn’t even blink. “Of course he does.”

     The snake Sannin had hideouts scattered all across the Great Shinobi Nations—it would be more surprising if he didn’t have one nearby. Inner Sasuke, however, reacted violently.

     “Oh, for fuck’s sake, not HIM again.”

     “I swear, that slimy bastard has labs everywhere—like a goddamn cockroach.”

     “Why won’t he just die already?”

     Sasuke let out a sharp exhale. “For once, I agree with all of you.”

     Orochimaru. The man who had violated his mind and body, implanting the Curse Mark like a parasite marking its prey, the man who had sent his lackeys after him, whispering promises of power, trying to tear him away from Konoha. 

     Sasuke’s hand instinctively rose to the nape of his neck, tracing over the scarred skin. He had tried to carve the mark out once. He still remembered the panic in his teammates’ voices—the way Naruto and Sakura had screamed at him to stop, Kakashi restraining his wrist before he could cause any further damage to himself.

     “Desperate idiots,” Sasuke mused. “I really was ready to cut it out myself.”

     The mark itself was sealed now—a dead brand, thanks to his own efforts—but the memories remained. He clenched his jaw.

     “Orochimaru will die. But I need to be smart about it.”

     Storming in headfirst would be suicide. No, the smarter move would be tearing his empire down piece by piece.

     “Destroying his secret bases one by one… now that would be an excellent start.”

     His grip tightened.

     Sasuke looked down at the ninneko and gave a curt nod. “Take me there.”

     The ocean waves crashed against the rocky shores of the isolated island, a foreboding mass of stone sitting just off the coast of the Land of Waves. In the dim glow of the setting sun, the entrance to the underground base was heavily guarded, multiple Otogakure shinobi stationed at the gates.

     Sasuke observed from the cover of the treeline, his disguise still active—a simple transformation seal masking his identity. From the outside, he was nothing more than an average-looking man with short, cherry-blossom pink hair.

     “Predictable security.”

     His ninneko companion crouched beside him, flicked its tail. “There are about ten guards patrolling the entrance. More inside, no doubt.”

     Sasuke didn’t reply. He didn’t need to. In a single blur of motion, he and the ninneko struck.

     The first guard’s throat was slit before he could even draw his weapon. The second turned, eyes wide, but a kunai lodged itself clean through his skull before a sound could escape his lips. The remaining eight barely had time to react before Sasuke and his ninneko eliminated them all in mere seconds. The bodies hit the ground.

     Sasuke rolled his shoulders. “Pathetic.”

     Without another word, he made his way into the underground stronghold. The tunnels were littered with traps—pressure plates, wire traps, even chakra-activated seals, but Sasuke moved through them with ease.

     “I’ve seen these a hundred times over,” he mused. Years of bounty hunting had sharpened his awareness for ambush points and deadly mechanisms. Every tripwire? Dodged. Every seal? Disabled before activation.

     It wasn’t long before his presence was noticed. A squad of guards rounded the corner, weapons drawn.

     “Who the hell—?”

     They didn’t finish their sentence. Sasuke dispatched them effortlessly, weaving between their attacks with flawless precision. A flash of steel—a kunai slicing through exposed throats, a quick Chidori Spear impaling another through the chest. Within moments, the entire squad lay motionless on the cold, damp ground.

     Deep within the facility, Karin Uzumaki sat in her office, monitoring security reports when the alarm sounded.

     “What the hell?”

     Her red eyes narrowed as she scanned the security feeds. Dozens of Orochimaru’s soldiers were dead. And the culprit? A lone man, his movements too quick for the cameras to properly capture, cutting through the base’s forces like they were nothing.

     “An intruder…?”

     She adjusted her glasses, intrigued. The other prison wardens were already moving out to engage. Karin followed.

     The remaining wardens—elite guards specifically tasked with securing Orochimaru’s experiments—rushed in, surrounding Sasuke in the corridor. Unlike the others, these shinobi weren’t weaklings. Sasuke sidestepped as one of them unleashed a barrage of kunai, flipping mid-air to avoid an incoming Dōton: Sekichú no Yari (Earth Release: Stone Pillar Spears) from another.

     A third warden formed hand seals, unleashing a Suiton: Atsuryoku no Gekiryū (Water Release: Pressure Torrent), a spiraling surge of water crashing toward Sasuke with the force of a tidal wave. Instead of dodging, Sasuke grinned.

     He reached into his chest seal and pulled out Kubikiribōchō. The massive blade swung, the sheer force splitting the water attack in half, sending droplets scattering like mist. The wardens hesitated. That brief moment of uncertainty was all Sasuke needed. With one devastating arc, the Executioner’s Blade cleaved through them, flesh, bone, and steel armor alike. Blood splattered the walls. The last warden standing staggered back, eyes wide in horror.

     Sasuke didn’t even give him a chance to run. With a flicker of movement, he slashed through the man’s chest, his body collapsing with a sickening thud.

     From the end of the hall, Karin watched the massacre unfold. “This guy… he’s wiping out Orochimaru’s soldiers like they’re insects.” She adjusted her glasses, intrigued. “Who the hell is he?”

     She stepped forward, blocking his path.

     “Not bad,” she said, cracking her knuckles. “But you’ve just entered my territory.”

     Without another word, Karin formed hand seals, slamming her palms into the ground. 

     “Dōton: Ishi no Rōgoku!” (Earth Release: Stone Prison)

     The hallway shifted, the ground beneath Sasuke rising into thick stone pillars, attempting to crush him from all sides. Sasuke’s eyes gleamed. He countered immediately.

     “Katon: Gōkakyū no Jutsu!” (Fire Release: Great Fireball Jutsu)

     A massive orb of fire erupted from his mouth, melting through the stone like paper. Karin leaped backward, avoiding the scalding heat, and retaliated with Suiton: Kasukēdo Uzu (Water Release: Cascading Vortex). A spiraling torrent of water engulfed the flames, steam exploding through the corridor. 

     Through the haze, golden chains erupted from Karin’s back—the signature Adamantine Sealing Chains of the Uzumaki Clan. They shot forward, aiming to bind Sasuke’s limbs. Sasuke sidestepped, flipping over them, but Karin’s chains adjusted mid-air, whipping around in a second attempt.

     He clicked his tongue. “Fuinjutsu, huh? Fine.”

     Sasuke weaved a quick series of seals, pressing his hand to the ground.

     ”Gyaku Baindingu Hairetsu!” (Reverse Binding Array)

     A counter-seal activated beneath his feet, disrupting Karin’s chains just enough for Sasuke to slip through their grasp. He landed behind her in an instant, Kubikiribōchō raised to strike—

     But Karin twisted around, her glasses gleaming.

     “Not bad,” she admitted. “But I’m not that easy to kill.”

    The narrow hallway trembled as Sasuke and Karin clashed, their movements a blur of speed and precision. Karin’s Adamantine Sealing Chains shot toward him, the golden constructs glowing with raw chakra, aiming to bind him in place. Sasuke dodged, twisting his body at an impossible angle before landing on the wall. His hands blurred through hand seals as he countered.

     “Chidori: Jinrai! (Lightning Release: Thunderclap Spear)

     A spear of crackling lightning surged from his fingertips, arcing toward Karin like a predator seeking its prey.

     Karin reacted instantly. “Suiton: Akuashīrydo!” (Water Release: Aqua Shield)

     A spherical dome of water materialized around her, absorbing the attack with a sharp hiss as the lightning dispersed.

     Sasuke smirked. “Not bad.”

     She clicked her tongue. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

     Instead of responding, Sasuke surged forward, swinging Kubikiribōchō in a wide arc. Karin barely managed to duck, feeling the displaced air as the enormous blade sliced through the corridor’s walls with terrifying ease. She retaliated, forming another series of seals.

     “Dōton: Chika no Supaiku!” (Earth Release: Subterranean Spike)

     The ground beneath Sasuke exploded, jagged spikes of stone shooting upward to impale him. Sasuke reacted on pure instinct.

     “Katon: Doragonburesu!” (Fire Release: Dragon’s Breath)

     A concentrated stream of flames erupted from his mouth, melting the spikes into molten slag before they could reach him.

     Karin grimaced. “Tch—damn it!”

     Sasuke didn’t give her time to breathe. With a single burst of speed, he closed the distance, flipping Kubikiribōchō in his hands and bringing the blade down on her with brutal force. 

     Karin barely managed to block, her chains reinforcing her arms at the last second, but the sheer power behind Sasuke’s swing sent her crashing into the far wall, her breath leaving her lungs in a sharp gasp. She struggled to get up, but before she could move, the cold steel of Kubikiribōchō pressed against her throat.

     Silence. Karin’s eyes widened in disbelief. Sasuke watched her, expression unreadable.

     She swallowed hard. “…Well? What are you waiting for? Just finish it.”

     He didn’t move. Instead, Sasuke did something unexpected. He lowered his blade.

     Karin stared. “…What?”

     Sasuke tilted his head, amused. “I didn’t come here just to kill you.”

     Karin blinked. “Then why the hell are you here?”

     Sasuke shrugged. “Curiosity, mostly. I wanted to see what Orochimaru’s been up to. I didn’t expect to find an Uzumaki guarding one of his prisons.”

     Karin tensed, her fingers twitching slightly.

     “…I don’t have a choice,” she muttered, looking away. “Kusagakure is still hunting me for defecting. If I leave, they’ll kill me.”

     Sasuke raised an eyebrow. “Defected? When?”

     Karin let out a humorless laugh. “Right after the Chuunin Exams in Konoha. You were there, weren’t you?”

     Sasuke’s face remained neutral.

     “…Figured you wouldn’t remember me,” Karin continued. “Nobody ever does. I was just another disposable tool for my village. My so-called ‘teammates’ only kept me around for my healing abilities.”

     Sasuke’s gaze softened just slightly. “I can relate.”

     Karin frowned. “Tch. As if you—”

     Before she could finish, Sasuke dropped his disguise. The transformation seal dispelled, revealing his true form.

      Karin’s entire body froze. She knew that face. “…You—”

     Sasuke smirked slightly. “Yeah, yeah. The one and only.”

     Karin’s hands shook.

     “The bounty hunter, Weasel…” she whispered, disbelief etched into her expression.

     Sasuke crossed his arms, leaning against the wall. “The name’s Sasuke Uchiha, though I suppose you’ve already heard of me.”

     Karin’s breath hitched. Her mind reeled. Sasuke Uchiha? The same Sasuke Uchiha that allegedly defected to Orochimaru? The same Sasuke Uchiha that was hunted by every major village?

     “Wait, wait, wait—” Karin took a step back, adjusting her glasses so fast they nearly fell off. “You—you’re him?! The one who’s been slaughtering missing ninjas and Akatsuki members? The same one with a bounty that keeps going up every other week?!”

      Sasuke shrugged. “Sounds about right.”

      Karin felt lightheaded.

      “…You were supposed to be with Orochimaru,” she muttered, still processing.

     Sasuke snorted. “That’s what people like to believe. I never once worked with that snake.”

     Karin gritted her teeth. “Then where the hell have you been all this time? If you didn’t defect to Orochimaru, what have you been doing?”

     Sasuke grinned. “Oh, you know. The usual. Fleeing from enemies.”

     “…”

     “Visiting the ruins of Uzushiogakure.”

     Karin stiffened. “…What?”

     “Facing off against a Mizukage who just so happened to be a jinchūriki.”

     Karin’s jaw dropped.

     “Nearly dying a few times.”

     “WHAT—”

     “A few minor war crimes here and there.”

     “WHAT THE HELL?!”

     Sasuke smirked. “Oh, and let’s not forget—killing Sasori of the Red Sand.”

     Karin opened her mouth to protest—

     And then promptly fainted.

     Sasuke blinked, watching her body hit the ground with a soft thud. 

     His ninneko, who had been silently observing from the shadows, let out an amused purr. “I think you broke her.”

     Sasuke sighed. “Hn.”

     He crouched down, staring at the unconscious Uzumaki. “…Guess I’ll wait for her to wake up.”

     Karin woke to the crackling of a campfire and the distinct scent of something burning—not food, thankfully, but cloth soaked in old blood. Her vision was still blurry, her body sore from the earlier fight. But as soon as her senses sharpened, her stomach dropped.

     The hideout—or what was left of it—was in absolute ruins. Charred remains of walls, shattered stone, and smoldering debris littered the island. The underground base was no more.

     “…Oh, I am so dead,” she muttered under her breath.

     Orochimaru was going to kill her.

     Movement caught her eye. Sasuke—the absolute menace responsible for this destruction—was crouched by the fire, lazily scrubbing his black cloak in a basin of water he must have fetched from the ocean.

    The fabric was stained with blood, no doubt from the shinobi he had cut down. The man himself? Completely at ease. His wet hair clung to his face in messy strands and he looked like he hadn’t slept in years.

     When he finally acknowledged her, it was with a lazy, Kakashi-esque greeting. “Oh, you’re awake. Yo.”

     Karin twitched. This guy.

     He then held up his still-dripping cloak with a thoughtful expression. “Hey, what do you think? Should I start wearing a mask like my Jounin sensei or should I actually go through with dyeing my hair Sakura pink?” 

     Karin stared. Her brain short-circuited trying to process that question. Her eyes swept over him, finally taking in his full appearance: Disheveled, black hair still dripping from being washed, a pair of silver snakebite piercings on his lips that somehow made him look more insufferable, multiple ear piercings, at least three studs on each ear, skin littered with seals and scars, some intricate, some painfully crude. And then there were the self-inflicted scars.

     Her gaze lingered on the faded cuts across his wrists, the unmistakable marks of a person who had once tried to relieve their suffering, but the worst was the nasty scar on his neck—jagged, ugly, and twisted around a heavily sealed area where something had clearly been forcibly removed. A curse mark.

     Karin swallowed hard. She had seen broken people before, but Sasuke Uchiha was something else entirely. Before she could think, the words flew out of her mouth.

     “Holy crap, you’re a degenerate.”

     Sasuke deadpanned.

     “You’re not the first person who’s told me that,” he said flatly, wringing out his cloak.

     “Gee, I wonder why,” Karin shot back, still staring at him like he was some mythical cryptid.

     Sasuke sighed dramatically. “I get it from the voices in my head all the time.”

     Karin froze. “…What.”

     Sasuke leaned back, stretching his arms. “I call them Inner Sasuke. They’re basically just different versions of me that exist in my head. A bunch of Negative Nancys, really.”

     Inner Sasuke immediately complained.

     “We do not ‘complain.’ We provide ‘constructive criticism.’”

     “We’re literally the only reason you’re still alive, you ungrateful brat.”

     “Can you stop airing our existence to random people?!”

     Karin stared.

     “YOU’RE INSANE,” she blurted out.

     Sasuke shrugged. “Probably.”

     Karin clutched her head. What the hell was she dealing with here?

     Taking a deep breath, Karin forced herself to calm down.

     “Okay, hold on,” she said, regaining her composure. “Why the hell did you spare me?”

      Sasuke shrugged. “I told you before; you and I? We’re pretty similar.”

     Karin frowned. “…How?”

     Sasuke gestured vaguely. “Both of us are from near-extinct clans, both of us are actively hunted by our villages for defecting, and, most importantly—” his eyes darkened “—we’re both victims of Orochimaru.”

     Karin hesitated.

     “…Orochimaru’s never done anything to me,” she muttered.

     Sasuke’s expression turned wry. “Yet.”

     Karin felt a chill creep up her spine. He wasn’t wrong. If she ever tried to leave, she had no doubt Orochimaru would gut her like one of his test subjects.

     “…Point taken,” she admitted reluctantly.

     Sasuke tossed his freshly cleaned cloak over his shoulders. “So, what now?”

     Karin sighed. “You’re the one who dragged me into this mess. You tell me.”

     He smirked. “I’m glad you asked.”

     She immediately regretted it.

     Sasuke stood up, stretching. “Traveling alone has gotten pretty boring. Inner Sasuke doesn’t make for great company.”

     “HEY!” 

     Karin crossed her arms. “And?”

     “I figured I might as well start recruiting people.”

     Karin raised an eyebrow. “Recruiting? For what?”

     Sasuke’s eyes gleamed with something dark and dangerous. “I’m going to wipe out the entire Akatsuki.”

     Karin’s brain stalled. “…You’re what?”

     Sasuke grinned. “Did I stutter?”

     Karin gawked at him. “You—you’re insane.”

     Sasuke shrugged. “I’ve never been sane to begin with.”

     Karin’s stomach twisted. “What the hell happened to you?”

     Sasuke let out a bitter chuckle, gaze flickering toward the sky. “It probably has something to do with walking in on my parents being murdered by my brother.”

     Karin froze. His tone was so casual, like he was talking about the weather. “…You—”

     Sasuke sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

     “Yeah, yeah, tragic past, orphaned child, yadda yadda.” He waved a hand dismissively. “I disowned my clan a long time ago. Probably one of the better decisions I’ve made.” His expression darkened. “That and fleeing from Konoha.”

      Karin’s stomach twisted even further. This guy—what the hell was wrong with him?

     “…I think everyone is insane,” she muttered under her breath.

     Sasuke grinned. “You’re not wrong.”

     Karin groaned. She had no idea what she had just gotten herself into.

Chapter Text

      The walk back from the destroyed hideout was… weird, to say the least. Karin had been around a lot of off-people in her life: genetic test subjects, deranged rogue-nin, even Orochimaru himself, but none of them were quite like Sasuke Uchiha. For starters, she had now confirmed a few things about him:

1. He was a degenerate—she stood by that.
   
   
2. He was most definitely not sane—the voices in his head alone were proof enough.
   
   
3. And most of all, he was completely different from anyone she’d ever met before.
   

     Karin kept her eyes on him as they moved through the sparse forest, the moonlight cutting sharp shadows across his features. He moved like a hunter—quiet, efficient, never wasting a step—but there was something oddly casual in the way he carried himself, like none of this really mattered. Even now, his black cloak fluttered behind him, still slightly damp from his earlier wash.

     Her thoughts drifted to the bingo book. She remembered seeing his original entry when Kabuto had bought over a Bingo Book once three years ago. Back then, he’d looked… well, normal, cute even. If she were being honest with herself, she probably would’ve liked him, maybe even develop a crush. He had that brooding prodigy thing going on.

      Now? Now he looked like someone who’d gotten into a fistfight with aesthetic minimalism and lost: All those piercings, all those tattoos and seals, that curse mark scar burned into his skin like a warning. But the more she thought about it… the more she realized that was probably the point; he did all of this on purpose. It was a full aesthetic overhaul, a crafted persona. No wonder no one ever suspected Weasel was really Sasuke Uchiha.

      Karin narrowed her eyes. He’s smart, really smart. Probably just as clever as Orochimaru, just more subtle about it. Less serpentine and more… like a wolf hiding among dogs.

      She exhaled, finally accepting something else: She was either in very safe hands… or in a lot of danger. Maybe a mix of both, probably leaning toward danger. Regardless, she’s made her choice and now she has to live with it. 

     Sasuke finally came to a stop on a quiet cliffside overlooking the sea. He crouched and pulled a worn scroll from his chest seal and unraveled it. A map spread out against the rocky ground, pinned by the wind and one of his kunai. The ninneko, who’d been trailing them this entire time, sat nearby, tail swishing lazily.

     “Thanks,” Sasuke said, not looking up. “That’ll be all.”

      The ninneko gave a quick bow and darted into the trees, leaving just the two of them alone.

     Karin crossed her arms. “So… What now?”

     Sasuke didn’t answer immediately. His eyes scanned the map, fingers tapping thoughtfully.

      “Now,” he said, “I go after each and every one of the Akatsuki’s heads.”

      Karin blinked. “That’s insane.”

     “But first,” he continued, completely ignoring her comment, “I have some unfinished business with Orochimaru.”

      Karin snorted. “So you are suicidal.”

      Sasuke gave her a sideways glance. “Probably, but I’ve made it this far, haven’t I?”

      “You do realize he’s always guarded, right?” Karin pressed. “The Sound Four are usually with him and he’s never without that creepy assistant Kabuto.”

     “I know.” Sasuke nodded. “Which is why I’m planning. I’m going to gather a team—defectors, like me, people who’ve got nothing to lose and good reasons to fight.”

      Karin raised a brow. “So you’re building a  squad of broken people?”

      “Exactly,” Sasuke said without missing a beat. “The broken make better weapons.”

      Karin scoffed. “Well, I’m not exactly a willing participant. I’m only here because I’d be dead otherwise.”

      Sasuke glanced up from the map, straight-faced. “That’s basically the same thing.”

      Karin’s eye twitched. “I hate you.”

      “I get that a lot.”

     Sasuke tapped a location on the map—an unmarked island near the Land of Water. “This one’s next. Another base. I destroy them one by one and eventually he won’t have anywhere left to hide.”

      “You really plan on fighting Orochimaru and his entire posse?” Karin asked, a little horrified.

      “If I have to.” Sasuke folded the map again, slipping it back into his seal. “But I’m hoping it doesn’t come to that.”

      Karin stared. “Why not?”

     “Because I don’t want to kill Kabuto.”

      Karin blinked. “…What.”

      “I mean, I will,” Sasuke said casually. “But at the same time I could just use him as a pawn, mostly to have him run around the Great Shinobi Nations and infiltrate criminal organizations for me. Killing him would just be a waste, plus cleaning blood out of clothes is a pain and I cannot be bothered to do laundry.” 

      Karin decided not to respond to that. Instead, she frowned. “You did kill Sasori of the Red Sand, right? And you made the Terrorist Bomber Deidara flee? If you’re already capable of taking down members of the Akatsuki on your own, why do you need help?”

      Sasuke tilted his head. “I got lucky.”

      Karin was taken aback by the honesty in that answer.

      “I had an advantage. The Kazekage was with me and he ended up landing the final blow on Sasori, but luck won’t always be on my side.” His voice lowered, serious now. “And I’m sure they’re already watching. They know I’m hunting them. They’re probably tracking me right now.”

       Karin felt the hairs on her neck stand up. Of course they were. He was hunting gods in human skin. And the worst part? He knew it.

      She glanced at him, watching as he leaned back, arms folded behind his head like this was just another day in the park. He really is suicidal, but despite that…

      She was intrigued.

      “…You’re insane,” she muttered again, for what felt like the twentieth time.

      Sasuke smirked. “Told you.”

      Karin exhaled. She didn’t know what the hell she’d gotten herself into, but she couldn’t lie to herself—she wanted to see where this went.

     The coastal air had grown damp and heavy as the forest thinned out, revealing rocky cliffs overlooking a secluded cove. Nestled between jagged formations of black stone, half-swallowed by moss and time, was the next hideout—a rotting, vine-covered husk of a base once maintained by Orochimaru’s forces. One of Sasuke’s ninnekos had discovered it a few days prior during a scouting mission, and now here he was, standing once again on enemy soil.

      Karin adjusted her glasses as they crouched in the brush above the entrance.

      “I’m just going to say this now,” she muttered. “This place might be nothing like the hideout I managed. It was chaos there, yeah—but it was structured chaos.”

      “Good.” Sasuke’s voice was calm, but there was an edge of anticipation beneath it. “Maybe I’ll get to see if the snake himself is squatting here.”

      Karin closed her eyes briefly, focusing. “I don’t sense Orochimaru’s chakra signature… or Kabuto’s. They’re not here.”

      Sasuke exhaled in amusement. “Saves me a lot of work.”

      “Don’t get cocky. I do sense one of the Sound Four, though.” She opened her eyes. “Faint, but unmistakable. Female.”

      At that, Sasuke grinned, lips tugging over one of his lip piercings. “Perfect. I’ve been looking forward to a rematch.”

      Without waiting, he descended the slope, boots crunching quietly over wet stone. Karin followed, mentally preparing herself for another round of chaos.

      Inside the hideout, a pale orange glow from fungus along the walls provided dim light, flickering across old cells, rusted chains, and crumbling medical stations. In one of the larger rooms, Tayuya sat on a dusty stone bench, legs crossed, shoulders slouched with absolute boredom.

      “This is such bullshit,” she muttered. “'Guard the hideout, Tayuya. It’s important, Tayuya.' It doesn’t matter that it’s in the middle of nowhere and nobody even remembers it exists.”

      She huffed and pulled out her flute, brushing her thumb across the polished silver. She brought it to her lips, blowing a slow, eerie melody—one that echoed off the walls like a mourning spirit.

      “You play well,” a voice called from the shadows behind her. “It’s such a shame that it’ll be your last performance.”

      Tayuya dropped the flute and twisted mid-step, chakra already flooding her limbs. She saw two figures: one was Karin, which was surprising enough, but the second was a man she didn’t recognize. Wild pink hair, snakebite piercings on his lips, eyes sharp and cold like emeralds. His chakra presence was immense, restrained only by careful discipline.

     “And who the fuck are you supposed to be?” she snapped.

     Sasuke tilted his head. “Just someone cleaning up Orochimaru’s messes.”

     “Oh, so you’re another self-righteous prick.” She sneered. “Let me guess, Karin, you defected to join up with this gutter trash?”

     Karin smirked coolly. “Unlike Orochimaru, he actually sees potential in me.”

     Tayuya raised a brow. “Seriously?”

     Sasuke stepped forward, calm and deadly.

     “They call me Weasel,” he said. “But you can call me the end of your shift.”

     Tayuya’s eyes widened a fraction, just enough to betray her shock. “You’re Weasel?!”

     Sasuke moved.

     The fight began in an instant. Tayuya flipped back, chakra flooding her limbs as she summoned her Doki, massive ogre-like spirits that erupted from summoning scrolls with a thunderous roar. Their grotesque forms slithered from the seals like living nightmares, clubs ready to crush.

     Sasuke didn’t flinch. His feet moved across the cracked stone floor like a dancer’s—fluid, deliberate, swift. His Sharingan remained inactive, and he didn’t reach for Kubikiribōchō. Not yet. He wanted to test her. Test himself. Tayuya raised her flute to her lips, playing a discordant melody that caused the Doki to lurch forward, their mouths spilling ethereal chakra leeches.

     Sasuke formed seals in a blur. “Doton: Doryūheki!” (Earth Style: Mud Wall) 

     A massive mud wall exploded upward, intercepting the first Doki’s charge. It collided with a sickening crack, sending debris flying. Sasuke was already moving, racing up the wall’s surface before flipping overhead.

     “Katon: Gōkakyū no Jutsu!” (Fire Style: Great Fireball Jutsu) 

     A massive fireball erupted from his mouth, engulfing one of the Doki in flames. The beast shrieked, stumbling back into the wall as chakra worms boiled away.

     Tayuya clenched her teeth. “You fucking show-off.”

      She shifted tones, playing a quick high-pitched trill. The remaining Doki moved faster, cornering Sasuke between two broken support pillars. “Let’s see you dodge this—!”

     “Suiton: Mizurappa!” (Water Style: Water Trumpet) Sasuke spat a jet of pressurized water, slamming into the Doki’s face with force enough to stagger it back. He followed up immediately with a lightning-infused kunai, hurling it straight into its exposed eye. The Doki collapsed, dissipating into smoke.

     Tayuya backpedaled, hands flying through seals. “You little shit—!”

     “Kage no Ketsugō.” (Shadow Binding Seal)

     One of Sasuke’s ink-tag seals exploded beneath her feet, wrapping around her ankles like hungry roots. Tayuya screamed in frustration, tearing at the bindings with raw chakra.

     But it was too late. Sasuke appeared in front of her, just a breath away. He didn’t strike. He just stood there, waiting for her to realize that he could have.

     Tayuya breathed hard, sweat trailing down her brow. 

      “Well?” she hissed. “Are you going to finish me off?”

     Sasuke tilted his head. “No.”

     Tayuya blinked, “…What?”

     “I came here out of curiosity.” His voice was calm. “To see what Orochimaru’s been up to. You’re not important enough to kill right now.”

     Tayuya stared, red hair plastered to her face, chest heaving. “You’re fucking insane.”

     Karin leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “Get used to it.”

     Sasuke turned, eyes already scanning the corridor deeper into the hideout.

     “Come on,” he said. “We’ve still got work to do.”

     Karin followed, leaving Tayuya behind—bound, exhausted, and too stunned to speak. Only one thought screamed through her head: “What the hell is happening right now?”

     Deep within the dimly lit corridors of the ruined hideout, the air turned colder. Mold clung to the walls like scabs, and water dripped steadily from broken pipes in the ceiling. Sasuke and Karin moved in near silence, their footsteps echoing off stone.

     Sasuke took the lead, his expression unreadable as he swept through the shadow-choked halls. His eyes flicked from side to side with sharp precision, hand occasionally flicking out to grab scrolls, binders, and loose documents. Each item he collected vanished in a flash of chakra light as he fed them into the storage seals tattooed along his ribcage and forearms.

     Karin watched him, both impressed and vaguely unsettled. “Are you planning on opening your own archive or…?”

     Sasuke glanced at her without stopping. “These are old research notes. Some of it looks like prototype curse mark studies.” He held up a half-burned page, eyes narrowing. “Orochimaru’s been trying to create a deal that he can use to hop bodies without having to fight the host for control. It’s outdated work, but there could be something useful in here.”

     Karin gave a low whistle. “That freak has always been obsessed with immortality. You really think it’ll help us out with our mission?”

     “I’ll look into it when we leave.” Sasuke sealed another scroll away. “It might give us an edge later on if we were to face him in combat.” 

      They paused at a sealed iron door, long rusted through. Sasuke raised a hand and casually melted through the lock with a brief pulse of Katon chakra and they stepped into what looked like a medical lab. Cracked vials littered the floor. On one of the walls, a list of test subjects—names crossed out, or labeled “failed.”

     Karin wrinkled her nose. “This place gives me the creeps.”

     Sasuke quickly looked through a nearby ledger, “You used to work for Orochimaru.”

     Karin scoffed, “I guarded a prison for him. I wasn’t running human experiments in a dungeon.”

     Sasuke shut the ledger with a quiet snap. “Same snake, different skins.”

     Karin hesitated, then looked sideways at him. “So… why did you spare Tayuya, anyway? She would’ve killed you if she got the chance.”

     Sasuke shrugged. “She’s pissed and tired. I can tell she’s about done with Orochimaru’s bullshit.”

      Karin raised a brow. “And?”

      Sasuke smirked, “And I want to invite her to join our merry little band.”

      Karin snorted. “What is this, a suicidal defectors’ club?”

     Sasuke chuckled, “Basically.”

     Karin tilted her head, “You’re really going to recruit a bunch of random people just to take on the Akatsuki?”

     Sasuke glanced at her, eyes gleaming. “That’s the plan.”

      Karin rolled her eyes so hard it was almost audible. “You’re a maniac.”

      Sasuke smiled, “And yet you’re still here.”

      Karin scoffed. “Tch.”

     The duo circled back toward the open chamber where Tayuya still laid, bound and furious. The redhead had shifted to a seated position, one arm braced against the floor, still panting lightly. She didn’t look grateful to see them.

      Sasuke raised a hand and with a quick seal, released the fūinjutsu binding her. Tayuya surged forward with a furious snarl only for Karin’s chakra chains to shoot out like hungry serpents and pin her to a cracked support beam.

     “Again?!” Tayuya snapped. “Are you fucking kidding me—”

      “Calm down,” Sasuke said, holding up a hand. “If I wanted you dead, I would’ve already let you choke on your flute.”

      Tayuya bared her teeth. “You think I’m going to sit here and thank you for that?”

      “No.” Sasuke stepped closer. “I think you’re smart enough to know a sinking ship when you see one.”

      She went still.

      He crouched in front of her, eyes dark and unwavering. “You’ve been used by Orochimaru, lied to, tossed into some forgotten hideout to rot. He doesn’t care about you.”

      “Bullshit,” she spat.

      Sasuke stared down at her with an empty expression on his face, “He left you here alone to die.”

      Tayuya’s jaw tightened. She didn’t respond.

      “I’m giving you a choice,” Sasuke continued. “Join me. I’ve got my own agenda—taking out the Akatsuki, but Orochimaru’s on my list too. I’m gathering people like us, people he and society had casted aside, people who’ve been burned by the same twisted system.”

      Tayuya looked at Karin, whose arms remained folded, chains still shimmering.

     “He’s insane,” Karin muttered. “But he’s not lying.”

      Tayuya eyed Sasuke again, more carefully this time. “So you’re the guy they call Weasel, the notorious bounty hunter who’s slayed Sasori of the Red Sand. You’ve got half the damn continent chasing your ass.”

     Sasuke nodded, “Exactly, and I’m still standing.”

     Tayuya looked from one to the other, then sighed heavily.

      “Fuck it,” she muttered. “Anything’s better than babysitting this damn ruin.”

     Karin released her chains.

     Sasuke offered a hand. “Welcome aboard.”

     Tayuya hesitated for a brief second before taking it.

      “Don’t make me regret this,” she growled.

     Sasuke smirked. “That’s my line.”

Chapter Text

     The crumbling remains of Orochimaru’s hideout lit the distant skyline like a pyre; chunks of scorched stone and twisted metal hurled into the ocean air as the final series of explosive tags triggered deep within its foundations. The boom echoed across the cliffs like thunder, a triumphant sound that rang in Sasuke’s chest like a war drum. He watched from a safe distance, arms crossed, cloak fluttering in the sea breeze, expression—of all things—amused.

     “That,” Sasuke muttered, “was extremely satisfying.”

     “I didn’t take you for the explosive type,” Tayuya commented, standing beside him with her arms behind her head, eyes watching the rising smoke.

     “I usually prefer a quieter touch,” Sasuke replied with a crooked smirk. “But there’s just something poetic about blowing up a place filled with memories of human suffering.”

     Karin scoffed, brushing soot from her sleeves. “You think everything is poetic.”

     Sasuke rolled his eyes, “Not true. I don’t think you are.”

     Karin flipped him off, “Ass.”

     Tayuya sniffed, wrinkling her nose. “Well, I’m just glad I don’t have to breathe mold and rat piss anymore. Never thought I’d say this, but traveling with a psychopath and a chakra sensor beats that any day.”

     Karin scowled. “I’m right here you know.”

     Sasuke lazily turned toward the two. “Now that we’ve made our presence loud and obnoxiously clear, we move to the next step.”

     “Which is?” Karin asked, arching a brow.

     Sasuke smirked, “Recruiting three more people.”

     Karin crossed her arms. “Who the hell could you possibly recruit that’s more unhinged than us?”

     Tayuya clicked her tongue thoughtfully. “I might have an idea.”

     Sasuke tilted his head.

     “There’s this kid—well, more like a teen now. His name is Jugo. He used to be part of Orochimaru’s little collection of freaks. He’s got some power, but…” She hesitated. “He’s not exactly stable. His curse mark—one of the earliest versions—isn’t just hardwired into him, it is him. When it flares, he turns feral. He becomes dangerous as hell. Orochimaru used him to develop the cursed seals we got stuck with.”

     Karin’s eyes narrowed. “He sounds like a walking massacre.”

     “He’s also the only one of us who didn’t ask for the mark,” Tayuya added. “Poor bastard’s just… broken.”

      Sasuke gave a slow nod. “It won’t be a problem. If I get a look at his seal I might be able to stabilize it.”

     Tayuya turned to him, surprised. “You can reverse Orochimaru’s work?”

     “It took me a long time,” Sasuke said, brushing hair away from the seal on his own neck. “But yeah. I figured it out.” He gave a sideways grin. “Unfortunately now I have to deal with Inner Sasuke.”

      In his mind, Inner Sasuke howled in outrage.

      “YOU LITERALLY BRED A CURSE MARK IN YOUR SOUL. I HOPE YOU STEP ON EIGHT LEGOS, BASTARD.”

      “YOU SHOULD’VE LET IT KILL YOU, AT LEAST WE WOULDN’T HAVE TO SHARE THE SAME HEADSPACE.” 

      “STOP COLLECTING MISFITS, YOU TRAGIC PINK-HAIRED WET CAT. ”

     Sasuke winced slightly. “They’re… vocal today.”

     Karin blinked. “They?”

     Tayuya cackled. “Yup. He’s nuts.”

     The journey took several days, and with each passing night, the odd trio felt less like strangers and more like an unconventional, grumpy, mildly traumatized family. They passed through winding forests, cut across desolate plains, and at last, reached the mountains bordering the Land of Rivers.

     There, nestled in the cliffs, hidden behind a twisting waterfall, was a solitary facility, old and rust-streaked, but intact. The kind of place Orochimaru stored his most unruly assets.

     Tayuya led them in.

     “I’m telling you now,” she said over her shoulder. “He’s not going to like company, but if anyone can talk him down… maybe it’s you.”

     They entered the subterranean level—musty, damp, with low-hanging light crystals—and stopped in front of a heavily reinforced cell. Inside, Jugo sat with his knees drawn up, shackled despite his isolation. His wild orange hair fell in front of his face, and his eyes were dull, half-lost to thought. When he looked up and saw Tayuya, his brow furrowed in surprise. “You came back.”

     “Don’t get used to it,” she said, folding her arms.

     His gaze drifted to the two strangers. “Who are they?”

     The one with the piercing eyes stepped forward. “I’m Weasel.”

     Jugo blinked. “Why are you here?”

     “I’m recruiting you.” Sasuke said in a rather blunt tone. 

     Jugo stared, baffled. “Why would anyone want me?”

     Sasuke shrugged. “Tayuya told me about your condition. I think I can help. But I need something in return.”

     Jugo blinked, “…What?”

     “I want to destroy the Akatsuki,” Sasuke said plainly. “And kill Orochimaru if the opportunity presents itself.”

      Jugo stared, stunned.

      Karin muttered, “He’s not kidding.”

      “I never said you had to be a killer,” Sasuke added. “I just want you to have a choice. If you want to hurt people stay here, but if you want to fight that urge—if you want a purpose—then come with us.”

      Silence. Jugo looked down at his hands, trembling slightly. For once, the voices in his head weren’t screaming. For once… there was something that resembled hope.

      “…I want to try,” he whispered. “I don’t want to hurt anyone anymore.”

     Sasuke nodded, moving forward. “Then let me take a look at that seal.”

     The chamber was dimly lit, the only illumination coming from the faintly glowing fuinjutsu markings Sasuke had etched meticulously into the floor with chakra-reactive ink. Scrolls and notes were scattered across the ground in a chaotic sprawl that only Sasuke himself seemed to understand. Jugo sat at the center, shirtless, the jagged and pulsing black seal on his shoulder thrumming ominously, like a beast waiting to snap its chains.

     Sasuke crouched close to him, brow furrowed, his hands a blur as he drew yet another variation of a containment seal on a fresh strip of parchment. His voice broke the still air, quiet at first, then increasingly animated. “Your clan’s ability—it’s an instinctive transformation, correct? Fueled by natural energy? That would explain the volatility. It’s almost like… a Sage Mode derivative, but corrupted.”

     Jugo nodded slowly, confused but willing. “I don’t… I don’t always remember what happens when it activates, but I feel it— like something inside me is screaming to be let out.”

     Sasuke’s eyes gleamed. “So, the transformation is involuntary but not uncontrollable. If I alter the seal’s chakra pathways to redirect flow during spikes in emotional stress, we might be able to reroute the excess energy.”

      He stood abruptly, gesturing animatedly with his ink-stained fingers. “And if we apply a siphoning seal here—just beneath the sternum—it could act as a chakra regulator, like a lid on a boiling pot. Maybe even stabilize your psyche in the process.”

     Karin watched from a distance, arms tightly crossed, eyes wide in horror.

      “…He’s talking to himself,” she whispered.

      Tayuya looked equally disturbed. “Not just talking—bonding with the curse mark like it’s his new best friend. This guy is worse than Orochimaru.”

     Sasuke suddenly looked over at them, deadpan. “I heard that.”

     Karin raised her hands. “I mean, respectfully, with love.”

     “Don’t stop him,” Jugo said softly, voice tinged with awe. “No one’s ever… tried to understand me before.”

     Sasuke smiled faintly, then turned back to his work. “I don’t care what people think of me. What matters is fixing you.”

     Two days later and the chamber now looked like a seal master’s warzone; scorched papers, burnt-out brushes, and sealing tags plastered across the walls like unholy wallpaper. Sasuke stood before Jugo with dark circles under his eyes, sleeves rolled up, the seal on his own neck glowing faintly from overuse. He held out his hand, a thin black talisman glowing with intricate calligraphy.

     “This is it,” Sasuke said, voice hoarse but confident. “The stabilizer. I’ve encoded it to your chakra signature and conditioned it to respond to your emotional state. It won’t suppress your powers, but it will regulate them.”

     Jugo hesitated. “What if I lose control?”

     “I’ll stop you,” Sasuke said simply. “But I don’t think I’ll need to.”

     With a deep breath, Jugo pressed the talisman to the center of his chest. For a moment, there was only silence. Then a rush of energy pulsed through him, but it wasn’t chaotic. It was… clean. Smooth. His body lit up faintly as the curse mark flared then dimmed, the jagged lines shrinking and retreating as if calmed by an invisible hand. He didn’t feel rage. He didn’t feel hunger. He felt… calm.

     Karin’s mouth fell open. “Holy shit… it worked.”

     Tayuya blinked. “You actually fixed him?”

     Jugo looked down at his hands in disbelief. “I’m not…losing control.”

     Sasuke gave a weary but satisfied smirk. “I told you; you’re not broken, just miswired.”

      Jugo stood slowly, his eyes meeting Sasuke’s with a new clarity. “Thank you.”

      “Don’t thank me yet,” Sasuke said, cracking his neck. “We still have the Akatsuki to destroy.”

     Karin muttered, “And a few more therapy sessions to schedule.”

Inner Sasuke chimed in, voice faint but smug.

      “Okay, we almost approve of this one. She actually has a braincell.” 

     Sasuke sighed, rubbing his temples. 

     “You’re lucky you’re useful,” he muttered aloud.

     Tayuya leaned over to Karin. “So, are we officially a cult now or what?”

     Karin shrugged. “At this point? Probably, but then again this leagues better than guarding a lab.”

     “Agreed.” Tayuya nodded.

     In the aftermath of their success with Jugo’s curse mark, the group sat in the remnants of a small, secure outpost—likely once a storage bunker for Orochimaru’s supplies, now theirs by default. A rough campfire burned low in the corner. Sasuke, hunched over and exhausted, sat against the cold stone wall. His eyes fluttered shut mid-sentence as he mumbled, “So, Tayuya… do you know any more outcasts we can drag into this suicidal journey?”

     Tayuya snorted, crossing her arms. “There’s one guy who goes by Suigetsu. Freaks kept in a test tube up in one of the northern bases. Orochimaru’s been poking at him for years, trying to get him to stabilize his hydration-based bloodline or whatever. He’s a pervert, though but he be useful.”

      Sasuke gave a slow nod, eyelids drooping. “Then… he’s next…”

      And with that, he collapsed, completely unconscious, slumped sideways like a ragdoll.

     Jugo blinked, stepping forward. “Is he okay?”

     Karin, not even looking up from the book she was flipping through, said, “He’s fine. Weasel just burned through his reserves—mental and physical. Chakra exhaustion mixed with obsessive-compulsive seal creation. He’ll sleep for days.”

      Tayuya sighed. “Good. This gives us time to get some clothes. I am not wearing the same uniform as those other Sound freaks. No way I’m dying in something that ugly.”

     She gestured at Jugo. “And prison boy over here needs a makeover too. I get the grunge aesthetic, but you look like a walking sentencing notice.”

     Jugo looked down at his tattered prison attire and quietly agreed. “Yeah… I wouldn’t mind pants that actually fit.”

     He then gestured toward the still-unconscious Sasuke. “Should we at least move him to the bed?”

     “Definitely,” Karin said, moving over. “We can’t have our fearless lunatic leader sleeping on a rock floor. I need him lucid if we’re storming another base soon.”

     With the strength of both Tayuya and Jugo, they carefully hauled Sasuke up and laid him onto the bedroll. Karin even took the time to lay his cloak over him before muttering, “There. Try not to start mumbling about seal theory in your sleep again, weirdo.”

      Three days later, Sasuke woke with a sharp inhale, as if pulled from the depths of some bizarre fever dream. He blinked at the unfamiliar ceiling, the scent of herbs and faint smoke clinging to the air. Sitting up, groaning softly, he found the stone room empty—at first.

      Then he heard voices. He wandered into the next chamber, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, only to pause dead in his tracks. Standing around the fire were his three companions only now they looked drastically different.

      Tayuya was the first to notice him. She had ditched the traditional Sound Four uniform entirely. Instead, she wore dark fitted shinobi pants with a sleeveless black top, a short dark cloak slung lazily over one shoulder, and bandages wrapped around her forearms. Her flute rested casually against her hip in a leather holster, and her long red hair was pulled back into a messy half-knot. “Well well well, look who finally decided to rejoin the land of the living.”

     Karin turned, adjusting her new outfit—a lilac purple high-collar sleeveless shirt under a black open cloak, paired with matching shinobi pants and reinforced sandals. Her glasses rested on the bridge of her nose and a short blade was strapped to her back. Bandages adorned her wrists, covering up the worst of her scars. “Try not to fall into a coma again, Weasel. We almost replaced you with a potted plant.”

     Jugo stood a bit awkwardly, clearly uncomfortable with the new black-and-grey training gi he wore, complete with a pale sash and chakra-dampening bands along his arms to help with any lingering fluctuations.

      “…You look better,” he said simply. “Alive.”

      Sasuke blinked. “You all look like backup dancers in an edgy music video.”

      Tayuya grinned. “Thank you.”

      Karin motioned toward him. “You, on the other hand, look like you lost a fight with an ink pot. Go shower.”

      Sasuke gave a tired, amused snort. “I see you all got comfortable.”

      “We had three days,” Karin said dryly. “And I’m not about to infiltrate a freakish lab wearing anything that smells like moldy snake. You’re welcome.”

       Sasuke ran a hand through his tangled pink hair, a smirk curling the edge of his mouth.

       “Fair enough,” he said. “So, when do we leave for the North?”

      Tayuya cracked her knuckles. “Whenever you stop smelling like ink, blood, and regret.”

      Sasuke grunted. “Regret’s permanent, the rest I’ll wash off.”

      As the group chuckled, the mood settled—grim but focused. Their journey to the next recruit and the next step in Sasuke’s warpath was about to begin.

Chapter Text

      The forest shimmered with the aftermath of destruction, still echoing with the rumble of distant explosions. A plume of smoke billowed behind the group as Sasuke skipped a step ahead of the others, humming under his breath as if he hadn’t just leveled a fortified hideout. The soles of his sandals crunched through ash and broken gravel, the glee in his step unmistakable.

     “That,” Sasuke beamed, twirling a singed kunai between his fingers, “was therapeutic.”

     Karin trailed behind with a deadpan expression. “You skipped. You literally skipped away from an explosion.”

      “Did you see how it collapsed in on itself?” Sasuke grinned back. “Perfection. That entire lab imploded like it knew it was unworthy.”

      Tayuya stifled a snort. “We’re traveling with an actual pyromaniac.”

      Jugo, more subdued, walked beside Tayuya with a thoughtful look. “Hey… have you heard anything from Kimimaro?”

      The question made the air still. Tayuya’s smirk faded. She looked ahead for a moment before answering. “Kimimaro died last year.”

      Jugo blinked. “He… what?”

      “It was that damn disease,” Tayuya muttered. “Some rare blood-borne illness. Even Orochimaru and Kabuto couldn’t do shit about it. He kept coughing up blood and couldn't even stand near the end. It took him fast.”

      Jugo looked down at the dirt path, shoulders tense. “He was the only one who could calm me down.”

      “He was a good guy,” Tayuya said, softer now. “Too loyal for his own good, but… yeah. I’m sorry, Jugo.”

      Sasuke, oddly quiet for a beat, suddenly spoke up. “Itachi might have the same disease.”

      That made all three of them look up.

       Karin raised a brow. “What makes you say that?”

      Sasuke turned slightly, walking backwards now as he gestured casually. “Just a hunch. Based on how he moved the last time I fought him: fatigue, slightly unstable steps, hands were shakier than when I last saw him... He coughed up blood after waking up, but I originally chalked it up to internal injury, at least before talking with Kisame and having things explained to me.”

      Tayuya blinked. “Wait, wait, wait. You fought Itachi? As in the Itachi Uchiha?”

       Sasuke gave a lazy shrug. “Well I am Sasuke Uchiha, you know the kid Orochimaru’s creepy old ass wanted to groom into his next meat suit.”

      Karin let out a low whistle. “Yep, he’s an Uchiha, just one of the dumber and more suicidal ones.”

      Jugo stared. “You’re that Sasuke Uchiha?”

      “Not anymore,” Sasuke said, voice flat. “I disowned my clan and everything about it. They only ever cared about Itachi. I was born to be Fugaku’s spare. That’s it. A backup in case the golden boy failed.” He kicked a loose stone, eyes darkening. “My mom… she loved me, but even she looked at him with stars in her eyes. He was the prodigy. I was just… there.”

      Tayuya muttered, “That’s messed up.”

      “People are messed up,” Sasuke replied. “So is life.”

      The silence stretched for a moment. Then Tayuya spoke up, tone oddly mellow. “For what it’s worth… I get it. I’m half-Uzumaki.”

      Karin’s eyes widened. “Seriously?”

      “Yeah. My old man had red hair and chakra for days. He was also wickedly good at genjutsu. I guess that’s where I get it from.” She scratched her neck, eyes distant. “It didn’t matter much. I got abandoned when I was six and sold into slavery not long after. Orochimaru bought me out of some underground auction when he found out I could use sound-based chakra manipulation. He called it ‘potential.’”

      Karin looked stunned. “I didn’t even know there were more Uzumakis out there.”

      “There are,” Tayuya said. “But most don’t brag about it. People hear ‘Uzumaki’ and they just think ‘endless chakra battery.’ Then they try to use you.”

      Karin gave a bitter nod. “Yeah. My chakra can heal people… but only if they bite me. Kusagakure used me like a goddamn chakra bag. They killed my mom and they would’ve killed me too if I hadn’t escaped.” Her fists clenched. “Someday I’m going to wipe that damn village off the map.”

      Sasuke, now walking beside her, smiled faintly. “There’s plenty of ways to wipe out a village. Explosions are my favorite.”

      Karin eyed him. “Where are you going with this?”

      “Well,” Sasuke said thoughtfully, “I could craft explosive tags—chakra-sensitive ones. My ninnekos could sneak in under the cover of night, scatter them around Kusagakure. One signal, one trigger, boom! Village gone!” 

      Tayuya blinked. “You’ve really thought about this, huh?”

      Karin hesitated. “You… realize that’s technically a war crime, right?”

       Sasuke turned, smirking with unapologetic ease. “So is what we’re doing right now, Karin. In case you missed it, we’ve blown up three underground labs, assaulted a shinobi of a known organization, and kidnapped an unstable prisoner with a curse mark.”

       Jugo mumbled, “Technically I wasn’t kidnapped…”

      “We’re the cautionary tale,” Sasuke said, voice low and amused. “And I don’t care.”

      For a long, quiet second, none of them spoke. The sun hung overhead as the wind carried soot and fresh earth through the air. The line between revenge and purpose blurred, but the path forward was clearer than ever.

      Tayuya exhaled. “Well at least we look good committing war crimes.”

      Karin laughed, and Jugo, quiet as ever, smiled faintly. Sasuke just walked on, humming again.

      The sun was beginning to set as Naruto and Sakura returned from their training session, both of them winded, sweaty, and walking side by side through the village’s busy streets. Their pace had slowed to a relaxed walk, the kind that came after a day full of exertion. Sakura’s gloves were still dusted with grit from target training, and Naruto’s jacket had a fresh tear near the hem.

      Sakura glanced over at him, her voice breaking the quiet. “Hey, Naruto… have you heard anything from Jiraiya about Sasuke?”

      Naruto’s expression dimmed. “Nope. Not a single thing. Pervy Sage says there’s been activity from Orochimaru here and there, but it’s all just rumors. Sasuke… he doesn’t want to be found.”

      Sakura looked down at her feet. “Still, isn’t it strange that Orochimaru’s been sighted but there’s no confirmed sighting of Sasuke, not even once.”

      “Yeah,” Naruto muttered. “It’s like he’s erased himself or he’s doing something big and doesn’t want anyone to get in the way.”

     By the time they reached the center of the village, a crowd had begun forming around a posted bulletin board. Chatter filled the air: concerned voices, gasps, a few muffled sobs. Naruto elbowed his way to the front and stared. There, printed across the top of the bulletin, was the headline: Kusagakure Destroyed Overnight — Suspected Sabotage Involved

      “What the hell…” Naruto murmured, eyes scanning the report.

      “There were no survivors in the central command building. Several chakra seals detonated at once—too well-coordinated to be a natural disaster,” Sakura read beside him, voice low.

     “What the hell is going on in the world right now?” Naruto whispered, dazed.

     “I don’t even know anymore,” Sakura answered softly.

      There was a long silence before Naruto’s stomach let out a low, hungry growl.

      “…Want to go get some ramen?” he asked, trying to smile despite the unease in his chest.

      Sakura nodded with a tired smile of her own. “Yeah… ramen sounds good right about now.”

      They turned away from the crowd and headed off toward Ichiraku, just two shinobi trying to stay grounded in a world unraveling.

      Far away, nestled between tall trees and misty hills, steam billowed into the night sky as a hot spring bathed its visitors in warmth. Karin sat at the edge of the inn’s porch, staring intently at the front page of the same newspaper. Her brow furrowed deeply as she read the bold headline again and again.

      “He actually did it,” she murmured, disbelieving.

      Out in the onsen, Tayuya lounged lazily against a rock, only her head and shoulders visible above the water.

      “You really shouldn’t be surprised,” she called, arms stretched behind her head. “Sasuke could probably level one of the five great villages if he felt like it. Hell, maybe he will someday.”

      Karin didn’t respond right away, still locked in stunned silence. “Kusa won’t know it’s us. There’s no trace of our chakra, no evidence linking us.”

      Tayuya cracked one eye open, steam curling around her grin. “Exactly. That’s the beauty of it. Those bastards deserved it anyway.”

       Karin sighed, dropping the paper onto the porch with a thud. “I still don’t get why he even bothered. I mean… why?”

      Tayuya tilted her head. “Maybe it’s because he sees you as important.”

      Karin blinked. “What? That doesn’t make any sense. We’ve only known each other for days.”

      Tayuya shrugged, letting the water lap gently at her shoulders. “Uchihas are… intense. They love like they fight: recklessly and all at once, if I recall Orochimaru saying. Even if he doesn’t claim the clan, the blood’s still there. It’s in how he looks at people and how he acts when someone he gives a damn about gets hurt.”

      Karin rolled her eyes, though her cheeks were faintly pink. “Don’t go making this into something sappy.”

      “Too late,” Tayuya said with a grin. “Besides, you’re blushing.”

      Karin shrieked, “Am not.”

      Tayuya laughed, “Are too.”

      Karin huffed, folding her arms and glaring out toward the forest. Deep down, though, she wondered if Tayuya was right.

      Back inside the inn, Sasuke snored softly, draped over a futon with a blanket barely covering him. A crumpled-up newspaper laid beside his head, read and forgotten about. For now, the storm they were chasing had paused—if only for a breath.

      After several days of travel, Sasuke, Karin, Tayuya, and Jugo arrived at the northern hideout. Tayuya led the group through the dense forest, her memory guiding them to the concealed entrance nestled beneath a moss-covered outcrop. As they approached, two guards emerged from the shadows, their eyes narrowing at the unfamiliar faces.

      “Intruders!” one shouted, reaching for his weapon.

      Sasuke stepped forward, his expression calm. With a swift motion, he formed hand seals. ”Karon: Hōsenka no Jutsu!” (Fire Style: Phoenix Sage Fire Technique)

      Small fireballs erupted from his mouth, targeting the guards’ weapons, forcing them to drop them. Karin followed up, her chakra chains bursting forth, binding the guards before they could recover.

      Tayuya smirked, pulling out her flute. “Mateki: Mugen Onsa!” (Demonic Flute: Phantom Sound Chains)

       The guards’ eyes glazed over as they collapsed, unconscious. With the path clear, the group ventured deeper into the hideout. The air grew colder, the walls damp with condensation. They navigated the labyrinthine corridors until they reached a large chamber.

      At the center stood a massive test tube filled with water, and inside, a young man with silver hair floated, his eyes closed. As they approached, the man’s eyes snapped open. He grinned, pressing a hand against the glass.

     “Well, well, well, visitors, and such lovely ones at that,” he said, his gaze lingering on Karin and Tayuya.

      Karin rolled her eyes and stepped forward, her fist glowing with chakra. With a single punch, she shattered the glass, water cascading out and soaking the group.

       The man stepped out, stretching his limbs. “Ah, it’s been ages since I could do that.”

       Sasuke crossed his arms. “You’ll have plenty of time to stretch. You’re coming with us.”

      The man raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And who are you to order me around?”

       Tayuya smirked. “He’s the notorious bounty hunter known as Weasel.”

      The man’s eyes widened. “No way! I’ve heard of you. People around here curse your name for taking out so many rogue ninjas.”

       Sasuke nodded. “You’re from Kiri, right?”

       The man hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah, Suigetsu Hōzuki, at your service.”

        Sasuke tilted his head. “How would you feel about returning home?”

        Suigetsu’s eyes widened in shock. “Are you crazy? Yagura’s still in power. Going back now would be suicide.”

         Sasuke shook his head. “Yagura is no longer the Mizukage. Mei Terumī has taken over and is working to reform the village.”

       Suigetsu stared at him, processing the information. “Well, that’s… unexpected.”

        Sasuke extended his hand. “Join us and you’ll have a chance to see the new Kiri for yourself.”

       Suigetsu looked at the group, then back at Sasuke’s hand. After a moment, he grinned and took it. “Alright, Weasel. Let’s see where this partnership goes.”

      The first thing Sasuke did once they were clear of the hideout was turn to Suigetsu, who was still dripping wet and very naked.

       “We’re getting you some clothes,” Sasuke said bluntly, already rolling up his sleeves.

        Suigetsu blinked. “Seriously? That’s your top priority?”

       “Absolutely.” Sasuke crouched and pressed his palm to one of the seals inked into his forearm. A soft glow pulsed across his skin as a storage seal unraveled with an audible pop and he pulled out a neatly folded set of clothes — dark, form-fitting pants, a sleeveless vest, and a light cloak for travel.

       Jugo and Tayuya stared.

      Suigetsu’s jaw dropped. “What the—did you just pull a wardrobe out of your arm?”

       “Among other things,” Sasuke replied nonchalantly, digging out a pair of sandals next.

       Karin, brows furrowed, stepped closer. Her hands hovered near his forearm, studying the way the chakra reacted to the activation. “These seals… they’re layered in rings. The design’s intricate, almost like a recursive lattice—definitely not something just anyone could make. Honestly if I didn’t know better I’d say you were an Uzumaki.”

       “I lived in Uzushiogakure for a while,” Sasuke said calmly, sealing the rest of his supplies away. “Back when I was younger beforeI wound up in Kiri and got involved with the rebellion alongside other things…”

       Tayuya squinted. “The Kiri rebellion? You’re talking about that civil war they had going on for years?”

       Sasuke nodded. “Mhm! I fought the previous Mizukage and managed to undo the genjutsu that had been manipulating him for decades.”

       “…You what?” Suigetsu froze with one leg halfway into his pants. “You freed Yagura from a genjutsu? You were, what, fifteen?”

       “Thirteen,” Sasuke corrected, tugging his cloak back over his shoulders. “It wasn’t part of the plan. I was trying to get information. I saw that something wasn’t wrong and I reacted.”

       “You reacted to a bloodthirsty Jinchūriki Mizukage trying to kill you?” Tayuya asked flatly.

      “And you won?” Jugo added.

      Sasuke shrugged. “I survived and broke the genjutsu. That was the win.”

       The group was silent for a moment as Suigetsu finally finished dressing. He flexed his shoulders, getting used to the fresh clothes, then looked at Sasuke like he was seeing him in a new light. “You’re insane. Completely and utterly insane.”

       “Probably,” Sasuke muttered, glancing toward the horizon. “Which makes what I’m about to say next even worse.”

       Karin narrowed her eyes. “Let me guess; You’re not just returning to Kiri to catch up with Mei  Terumī, are you?”

       “No,” Sasuke said, his tone darkening slightly. “I’m going there to break someone out.”

      “Who?” Tayuya asked warily.

      Sasuke turned to the group, face unreadable. “Yagura Karatachi. I want to recruit him into our group.”

       The silence that followed was deafening.

       “…You want to recruit Yagura?” Suigetsu repeated, incredulous. “The same guy you just said was under a genjutsu and was responsible for a bloody massacre of his own people?”

       “He’s been imprisoned since the coup,” Sasuke explained. “But the truth is, he was just a puppet. He’s not a monster—he’s a victim, a high-risk, high-value one. He still has the Three-Tails sealed inside him, unless Kiri extracted it, and he was a Kage for a reason.”

      Karin folded her arms. “And you think you can reason with him?”

       Sasuke nodded, “I’ve survived him once. If I’m wrong, then I kill him. But if I’m right… he could be a powerful ally, one who’s already tasted the worst of manipulation and control—just like us.”

       Tayuya exhaled, muttering, “You don’t think small, I’ll give you that.”

       Jugo gave a small nod. “If you believe he’s worth saving… then I trust you.”

       Suigetsu shook his head slowly, cracking a grin. “You’re batshit insane, but now I really want to see how this plays out.”

       Sasuke’s eyes scanned his odd little band of misfits. “Then let’s rest up. Tomorrow, we will make our way over to Kiri and cause an international conflict.” 

Chapter Text

      The journey toward the Land of Water was grueling. Even by shinobi standards, the long trek across harsh terrain, winding coastal cliffs, and volatile weather wore on the group. Tayuya’s strides had begun to lag, and even Karin—who was normally energetic when bickering—walked in silence, beads of sweat forming at her temples. The oppressive air of chakra exhaustion hung heavily on both of them.

       “I’m starting to doubt we even have the chakra to make it there,” Karin muttered, adjusting her glasses as she wiped her brow. “We’re strong, but this is… a lot.”

      “No shit,” Tayuya grumbled, rubbing at her shoulder. “We’ve been moving non stop for days. I swear if we don’t rest soon I’m just gonna drop dead in the dirt.”

      Sasuke, leading at the front, finally slowed down. “We’re stopping soon.”

      Both girls looked up, almost simultaneously.

      “We’ll rest in Uzushiogakure for a day,” Sasuke said. “It’s not far from the Land of Fire’s eastern coast. You both deserve to see your family’s ancestral land especially after everything. I owe you both that much.”

       Karin blinked. “You’re… serious?”

      “Dead serious,” Sasuke replied. “We’ll camp there, rest, resupply, then head to Kiri.”

       Karin’s eyes shimmered as if the fatigue evaporated from her body in an instant. “You mean I’ll actually get to see it? Not just read about it in scrolls?”

       Tayuya, too, looked surprised. “I thought Uzushio was completely wiped out.”

       “It was,” Sasuke said. “But there are still ruins, symbols, echoes of what it was, and there are a few things I left behind last time.”

      For a moment, the mood shifted entirely. Tayuya and Karin stood taller, as if the weight on their backs had lifted ever so slightly. The chance to see the land their ancestors had called home—where their bloodline had once thrived—breathed new energy into them.

      They made it to the coast by midday two days later. Waves rolled beneath a slate-gray sky, the sea stretching endlessly into the horizon. Sasuke stopped at the water’s edge and glanced over his shoulder.

      “Follow me,” he said.

      No one questioned him. One by one, the group formed chakra beneath their feet and followed Sasuke onto the water. The trip was long, the ocean rough, and the skies grew darker with every mile.

      A storm was coming.

      Hours passed. The rain hit fast and hard. The winds howled like spirits lost at sea. The water turned violent, breaking their formation. Lightning streaked across the sky. Karin nearly slipped and Jugo grabbed her by the arm. Suigetsu transformed partially into liquid to maintain balance while Tayuya clung onto her flute.

       And then came the massive wave.

       Sasuke saw it first—towering, crashing toward them like a beast.

       “Hold on!” he shouted.

       In an instant, he formed a series of handsigns and slapped his palm to the surface of the water. Sealing marks flared to life and swallowed his teammates in a blink of light. With no time to think, Sasuke dove forward into the wave headfirst.

       It took hours for him to swim and navigate the violent waters. His chakra reserves bled thinner with every kick, every turbulent current, but the memory of the island’s spiritual pull drove him on.

       Eventually, his fingers brushed the sand. Coughing and drenched, he hauled himself onto the shore of a ruined island—the remains of Uzushiogakure. Twisted, broken towers rose from the rocky cliffs, red whirlpool symbols barely visible on shattered gates and broken stone. The silence was deafening.

       Sasuke collapsed onto his knees, drawing a breath before unsealing his team. With four small bursts of chakra, his team materialized in front of him, each stumbling out of the seals disoriented and soaked.

      “What—what the hell just happened?!” Karin shouted.

      Tayuya immediately smacked Sasuke in the back of the head. “Are you insane?! You sealed us mid-ocean?! You could’ve died, dumbass!”

      “I had to,” Sasuke said, breathless. “The storm—”

      “We could’ve died if that storm ripped those seals apart!” Karin added. “Have you ever thought of that, Sasuke?!”

      Suigetsu squinted at Sasuke, shaking off the water. “Wait a second… hold up. Why are they calling you Sasuke? Isn’t your name Weasel or are you both? Is this a double identity thing or are you just weird?”

       “Sasuke’s his real name,” Karin said flatly.

       “Uchiha Sasuke,” Tayuya added with a smirk, arms crossed. “He’s been using the moniker ‘Weasel’ for years.”

       Suigetsu blinked. “Uchiha Sasuke? Like—like that Sasuke? The crazy one supposedly went with Orochimaru and the older brother who wiped out his whole clan?”

      “That’s the one,” Jugo said calmly, trying to settle the mood.

      Suigetsu turned and looked back at Sasuke, who was currently wringing water from his cloak with zero shame or reaction to the chaos around him. “…Yeah, this explains a lot.”

       Sasuke, unbothered, looked up toward the shattered gates of the ruined village.

      “Welcome to Uzushiogakure,” he said. “Let’s find shelter and rest. We’ve got a prison break to plan.”

      The ruins of Uzushiogakure loomed around them like the skeleton of a forgotten god. Towering stone gates carved with the faded whirlpool sigil creaked with age, and half-collapsed buildings bore deep scars from ancient battles and natural erosion. Ivy and seaweed had overgrown the crumbled pathways, weaving through the shattered village like memories too stubborn to die.

       Sasuke walked a few paces ahead, his steps slower, more deliberate than usual. The distant sound of waves crashing against cliffs echoed in the silence.

       “…It’s been nearly three years since I was last here,” he said, voice low, nostalgic. “I was thirteen and still trying to figure things out. I thought that I could just… disappear and start over, hope that Konoha never finds and forces me back into the hospital.”

      The others followed quietly, their eyes drinking in the desolate remnants of what once was a proud and secretive village.

      Jugo glanced over at Sasuke’s silhouette. “Does that have anything to do with the scars on your body?”

       Sasuke paused. He didn’t turn around immediately. Instead, he tugged up the sleeves of his cloak and extended his arms. Pale skin marred with thin, crisscrossing scars lined the insides of his wrists—neat, deliberate. Old wounds, long since healed, but unmistakable in their origin.

       “I used to have a problem with broken glass,” Sasuke said casually. “Apparently playing fruit ninja on yourself isn’t a good way to process your emotions.”

       Suigetsu winced hard. “Holy sh—”

       Jugo looked away, his face falling into quiet sympathy.

       Tayuya’s expression darkened. “How the hell are you still alive?”

        Sasuke lowered his arms, rolling his sleeves back down with mechanical grace. “My old Genin team found me—Naruto, Sakura, and Kakashi. They got to me in time.”

      He started walking again, eyes drifting up toward a stone tower with the Uzumaki crest cracked clean down the center.

      “I spent a few months locked in the hospital after that,” he continued. “Couldn’t escape right away. They monitored everything—chakra levels, emotional state, behavior, but eventually they got comfortable. One night I slipped away and never looked back.”

      Karin blinked. “You escaped from a hospital and you weren’t branded with a seal?”

      “If Konoha had a decent fuinjutsu specialist on hand they would’ve sealed my chakra the second I showed signs of instability,” Sasuke said, shrugging. “But they didn’t. They underestimated me.”

      Tayuya gave a low whistle. “You’ve been broken for a long time, huh.”

      Karin nudged her with an elbow. “Hey, maybe let’s not get on his case for how he handled his trauma.”

      “It’s fine,” Sasuke said, emotionless. “I’ve gotten better.” Then, he blinked and sighed. “Or… as better as I’m going to get.”

      “Bullshit.”

      The voice rang in his head like a slap. Inner Sasuke stirred from the depths of his subconscious, indignant and bitter.

      “Better? You? You sleep in caves, wear your trauma like a badge, and talk to us whenever you’re bored. You blew up a village last week, dumbass.”

      Sasuke deadpanned, looking into the distance. “They’re ranting again.”

      Suigetsu raised a brow. “Who’s ranting?”

      “Inner Sasuke.”

      “…You have an inner monologue?”

     “Of course he has an inner asshole,” Tayuya muttered, clearly not surprised.

     Sasuke pinched the bridge of his nose. “They doesn’t shut up, especially when I say anything remotely positive about myself.”

      “Because it’s delusional, you emo pyromaniac.”

      “We’re the only reason you survive out here. Don’t get sentimental now.”

      Sasuke turned slightly to the group, utterly unbothered. “They also think they’re my survival instincts given form.”

      Karin exchanged a long, slow look with Jugo.

      “…Is it too late to turn around?” Suigetsu whispered to no one.

      Tayuya shrugged. “You’re already in neck deep, water boy.”

      Despite the heaviness of the moment, a strange calm settled over the group as they wandered deeper into the ruins. Among the wreckage, secrets of the past lay dormant, and their bonds—however chaotic—had begun to stitch together something that resembled a team. Flawed, scarred, and strange, but real.

      And for Sasuke, being back here felt… right.

      It wasn’t home, but it was close enough.

      The ruined remnants of Sasuke’s old residence in Uzushiogakure still stood tucked away in the eastern cliffs of the shattered village—a humble, weather-worn home carved into stone and sea-bleached timber. Overgrown ivy twisted through broken window frames, and salt clung to the old floorboards like ancient memory.

      Sasuke sat cross-legged on what remained of a tatami mat, the wind whistling softly through the cracks in the walls. He didn’t bother repairing it. The ruin was part of the peace.

      He exhaled slowly, allowing his chakra to settle into a meditative rhythm. He wasn’t replenishing much—just enough to survive, to stabilize. Most of it had been drained crossing the stormy sea, and even with his reserves, he needed time. Time to do nothing. For once.

      “Today,” he muttered to himself, “I’m taking a break.”

      “That’s a lie.”

      “Your ‘break’ involves sitting in a haunted house pretending you’re not listening to our voices while you mentally track the chakra signatures of your entire team and make contingency plans if someone attacks.”

      Sasuke didn’t argue. He just let the thoughts wash over him—some his own, some born from his fractured psyche. They rambled on.

      “You should reinforce the outer wall, start a seal array, check on the ninnekos, resupply.”

      “Did Suigetsu put the detonating tags back in the scroll?”

       “You left the decoy blade on the boat.”

       “Tayuya’s flute is probably cursed.”

       “Karin might sense something and say too much.”

        “You’re going to have to kill Orochimaru soon. Have you thought about how—”

      The door creaked. Sasuke didn’t move. He already knew who it was.

      Jugo stepped inside, ducking slightly beneath the low beam, his eyes softened as he took in the sparse interior. 

     “Hey,” he said gently. “How are you holding up?”

      Sasuke’s gaze didn’t lift. “I’m relaxing.” He shifted slightly, glancing at his hands. “I’m almost out of chakra, but I’ll live.”

      Jugo walked over and sat beside him on the floor. For a while, they simply sat together in silence—just two weapons, dulled by exhaustion, seeking a breath of stillness in the ruins of a forgotten clan.

       Then Jugo asked, “What are you going to do… after? After Orochimaru’s gone? After the Akatsuki is dealt with?”

      Sasuke blinked. The question hit harder than he expected. He opened his mouth, paused… then frowned slightly as he stared at the cracked wall in front of them.

      “I don’t know,” he said truthfully. “I’ve spent so long chasing ghosts and enemies I stopped thinking about what comes next.” He leaned back, letting his head rest against the wall, eyes following the swirl of old clan markings long faded by time and sea air. “…Maybe I’ll go see Naruto and Sakura again, Kakashi too. Just… check in, see how they’ve changed.”

       He smiled faintly, as if the idea amused him. “Maybe I’ll travel the world a bit. I have no desire to settle in a village again let alone serve one. I don’t want to be tied down, not anymore.”

       Jugo hummed quietly. “You seem fond of this place, though.”

      Sasuke tilted his head, letting his eyes scan the broken ceiling above.

       “Uzushio…” he murmured, “never judged me. Not once. Even the ghosts here—the memories—none of them cared about who I was or what I’d done. There’s peace in that.” Then he shook his head. “But I’m not an Uzumaki. I don’t belong here, not really. I’m Uchiha by blood, but I don’t claim them. My brother was everything to the clan, I was just the spare.”

      He looked away, lips pressed in a tight line. “All Konoha ever cared about was the Sharingan. They wanted the eyes, not the person behind them. Even now, if I returned, they’d look at me with hope or suspicion. Never as myself, just as a legacy… Uchiha Madara’s legacy.” 

      He tapped his chest, right over his heart. “But here in Uzushio? I can be Sasuke. No titles, no weight, just me, and still—this isn’t my home.”

      Jugo was quiet.

      Sasuke finally turned to him, something bitter and weary in his expression. “I don’t think I’ll ever find a home.”

      The wind outside whispered through the ruins again, soft and mournful. Jugo reached into his cloak and pulled out a single round stone, smooth and sea-worn. He handed it to Sasuke without a word. Sasuke looked at it, puzzled.

      “It’s from the beach,” Jugo said. “A piece of Uzushio. Keep it. Even if you don’t find a home you can carry pieces of the ones you cared about.”

      Sasuke stared at the stone for a long moment, then he pocketed it. “…Thanks.”

      The salty air stirred again as the sound of rustling footsteps and overexcited voices drew closer through the crumbling halls of Uzushio. Sasuke and Jugo turned their heads just in time to see Karin and Tayuya jogging toward them, arms overloaded with old scrolls, both grinning like children on a treasure hunt.

      “We found so much fuinjutsu theory, it's insane!” Karin declared, her eyes practically glowing behind her glasses. “Half of this stuff predates the Second Shinobi War!”

      “I swear I felt chakra coming off some of these scrolls,” Tayuya added, slightly breathless. “We even found a room that had a paper seal trap still intact! It nearly flash-fried Karin’s eyebrows.”

      “I disabled it,” Karin huffed, then waved a scroll toward Sasuke. “You weren’t kidding, this place is packed with Uzumaki legacy. Some of the stuff we saw? Priceless.”

       Sasuke chuckled quietly, leaning back against the wall as the two began to bicker over which scrolls were more important. “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourselves.”

     That was when Suigetsu strolled in. The group turned. He was wearing what could only be described as the most gaudy, offensively bright set of clothing imaginable—loud oranges, shocking teals, and swirling patterns that looked like someone had lost a bet with a textile demon. Even his sandals sparkled.

      “Apparently,” Suigetsu announced, arms spread wide like a runway model, “the Uzumakis really loved their bright colors.”

      There was a long, weighted silence. Everyone deadpanned.

      “…I’m never showing you my secret technique,” Sasuke muttered, turning his head away in embarrassment.

      Karin perked up. “Wait—you have a secret technique?”

      Sasuke gave an infuriatingly casual shrug. “Maybe.”

      Then, with the practiced ease of someone used to bending physics, he pressed his palm to his chest seal. A ripple of chakra surged—and from the spiraling seal over his heart, he pulled Kubikiribōchō, the massive cleaver of a sword, with a metallic shing that echoed through the hall. The group collectively gasped.

      Suigetsu’s jaw dropped. “No... No freakin’ way. Tha-That’s Kubikiribōchō—Zabuza Momochi’s sword!”

      Sasuke casually rested it on his shoulder like it weighed nothing.

       Suigetsu was already halfway into a fangirl-level rant. “That thing is a living relic! It’s been passed down between the Seven Swordsmen of the Mist for generations! Do you have any idea how important that sword is?!”

       Sasuke grinned and wrapped his arms around it like a greedy child. “It’s mine now.”

      “You’re not even from Kiri!” Suigetsu barked.

      Sasuke hissed like a territorial cat when Suigetsu reached for the hilt.

      Tayuya blinked. “Okay… this definitely wasn’t on my bingo card when I agreed to join this ragtag band of lunatics.”

      “Same,” Karin muttered.

      “Same,” Jugo agreed, arms crossed.

      Sasuke and Suigetsu were now circling each other like children fighting over a favorite toy.

      “It should belong to someone from Kiri!” Suigetsu cried. “That’s our legacy!”

      “Then maybe you shouldn’t have left it as a grave marker,” Sasuke retorted smugly.

      “It’s a national treasure! Hand it over!”

      “No.”

      Suigetsu lunged and yoinked the sword right from Sasuke’s grip for all of three seconds. Then the weight of the massive blade crashed down, flattening Suigetsu into the stone floor with a meaty splat. His gooey form oozed out from under the blade like spilled water. The group stared.

     “…Well,” Tayuya said, “at least we know the sword has standards.”

      Sasuke casually lifted Kubikiribōchō with one hand and twirled it in a slow arc. “Kubikiribōchō loves me.”

      A puddled Suigetsu raised a bubbling hand. “I admit defeat, but one day… one day that sword’s gonna be mine—even if it kills me.”

      “You mean again?” Karin deadpanned.

      Sasuke let out a small, amused sigh and flicked Suigetsu’s gaudy headband off with the flat of the blade. “You’ll have to try harder than that.”

      The group collectively rolled their eyes as Suigetsu reformed slowly, mumbling something about “sword rights” and “weapon custody battles.” And for a moment, amidst ruins and regrets, laughter echoed through the halls of Uzushiogakure. 

      The metallic clang of destruction echoed through the concrete halls of the Akatsuki hideout. Chakra surged, walls cracked, and shouting could be heard from several corridors away. Again.

      Inside one of the main chambers, pure chaos unfolded.

      “KAKUZU, YOU UNGRATEFUL ZOMBIE BASTARD—” Hidan shouted, swinging his triple-bladed scythe wildly as he dodged a barrage of Earth Grudge Fear tendrils ripping through the walls and floor like serpents. “I WAS IN THE MIDDLE OF MY PRAYERS!”

       “You call draining the group’s funds for the seventh time this month prayer?!” Kakuzu roared, launching another series of black tendrils that Hidan just barely leapt over. “I will murder you—AGAIN!”

      Sitting on a bucket in the corner, Deidara lazily scrubbed at the stone floor with a bitter scowl. 

      “Kick his ass, Kakuzu,” he muttered. “That guy spent two hours yesterday screaming about blood sacrifices while I was trying to make clay molds, and you people say I’m the loud one. Un.”

      He winced as Hidan’s scythe embedded itself in a pillar just inches from his head. “Watch where you throw that thing, you silver-haired cult freak!”

      “You shut the hell up, art boy!” Hidan snapped back, leaping onto a broken support beam.

       “You call that worship? More like a low-grade con job!” Kakuzu roared again, hurling another jagged tendril of dark chakra.

      The chaos built rapidly—broken tiles, dislodged ceiling panels, erratic chakra flaring everywhere—until a wave of paper shot into the room like a gale, slicing through the air and surrounding all three of them in a whirlwind of deadly sheets.

      “ENOUGH.”

      Konan’s voice cracked like thunder through the space. Her wings of paper unfolded from her back as she hovered, bathed in a soft blue chakra glow. One precise motion from her hand caused a paper kunai to materialize, hovering inches from Hidan’s throat.

     Hidan froze. Deidara stopped scrubbing. Kakuzu grunted and pulled back his tendrils, though his eyes still burned with irritation.

      “You three,” Konan began coldly, “are acting like children. This is an organization, not a playground for sociopaths.”

      “But he—” Hidan began.

      “Silence.”

      Hidan huffed.

      Konan turned first to Kakuzu, tossing him a sealed scroll. “You and Hidan have a new mission. Zetsu’s intel suggests the Three Tails Jinchūriki is still alive in Kirigakure’s dungeons rotting away after the civil war. You’re to retrieve him… alive.”

       Kakuzu caught the scroll. “Fine. At least I can vent my rage on someone that isn’t immortal.”

      “Try it,” Hidan muttered.

      “I will.”

      “Go now,” Konan ordered.

     Kakuzu turned, already walking toward the supply room. “We leave in five. Be ready.”

      Hidan groaned. “Ugh, I just got blood out of my robes too…”

      As the bickering duo departed, Konan turned to Deidara. “You. What exactly do you think you’re doing?”

      Deidara blinked, then stood awkwardly. “Scrubbing the floors like you said. Un.”

      Konan’s eyes narrowed. “You want to prove your worth to the Akatsuki again? Then you have two options: either capture a tailed beast on your own… or find and kill the bounty hunter Weasel.”

      Deidara went pale. “W-what?! That psycho bounty hunter? That guy nearly killed me in Sunagaukure!”

      “Then maybe you shouldn’t have failed your mission,” Konan said coolly. “You chose arrogance over strategy. These are the repercussions.”

      Deidara clenched his fists. “I don’t even have a partner anymore! How the hell am I supposed to pull off either of those?!”

      “That’s not my problem,” Konan replied. “You want to stay in the Akatsuki? Earn your place back. You want resources? Earn those too. Until you complete your assignment, the Akatsuki won’t be funding you or permitting you back in Amegakure. You are hereby cut off.”

      Deidara’s lip curled. “Fine! I don’t need your funding, I’m better off without it anyway. I’ll show all of you.”

      “You’d better,” Konan said sharply, then turned and vanished into a swirl of fluttering paper.

      Deidara stood there, trembling with both anger and anxiety, fists clenched and knuckles white.

      “…Tch. Freakin’ Weasel,” he muttered. “I’ll blow him up so hard his ancestors will feel it.” He reached into his pouch and pulled out a handful of clay. “Time to get back to work. Un.”

      Behind him, one of the still-cracked walls gave a groan and collapsed.

      The hideout continued to crumble. The chaos never quite stopped in the Akatsuki.

Chapter Text

       The morning sun cast a gentle glow over the remnants of Uzushiogakure as Sasuke and his companions stirred from their rest. The group methodically packed their belongings, preparing for the long journey ahead. Sasuke unfurled a detailed map, his finger tracing a path toward Kirigakure. The route was fraught with challenges, but determination etched on each face signified their readiness.

      After days of travel, the group reached the outskirts of Kirigakure. The once oppressive mist had lifted, revealing a village in transformation. Suigetsu inhaled deeply, a faint smile playing on his lips. 

      “The air doesn’t reek of blood anymore,” he remarked.

      Sasuke nodded in agreement. “The village has certainly changed since the last time I’ve visited.”

       As they navigated the periphery, Karin turned to Sasuke, looking at him with skepticism in her eyes. “Do you even have a plan?”

       Sasuke smirked, “I do… somewhat.”

       Karin, unimpressed, gave him a light smack on the head. “That’s not reassuring.”

      Turning to Suigetsu, Sasuke inquired, “Do you know where the prison is?”

      Suigetsu nodded. “If they’re still using the same facility, then yes.”

      Sasuke gathered the group, outlining his strategy to infiltrate the prison and locate Yagura. The plan was risky, but with their combined skills success was within reach.

      Deep within the confines of Kirigakure’s prison, Yagura Karatachi sat in solitude. The once formidable Fourth Mizukage and jinchūriki of the Three-Tails, Isobu, now found himself stripped of power and purpose. His claims of being manipulated by a genjutsu fell on deaf ears, with only Mei Terumī showing any semblance of belief. The rest of the village, scarred by his tyrannical reign, demanded justice. A trial ensued, culminating in a life sentence, as executing him would mean losing their only jinchūriki after Utakata’s defection.

      The chakra suppression cuffs he wore severed his connection to Isobu, leaving him in a state of desolation. The once vibrant bond between host and beast was now a mere whisper, a faint echo of what once was. Yagura sighed, the weight of his past actions and the uncertainty of his future pressing heavily upon him.

      “What am I now?” he pondered aloud. “A puppet discarded by its master condemned by its own people.”

      The silence of the dungeon offered no answers, only the cold comfort of isolation.

      Nightfall blanketed Kirigakure in its oppressive mist, the moonlight barely cutting through the ever-present fog. Two figures emerged from the forested highlands overlooking the silent village—Kakuzu and Hidan, shrouded in cloaks and ill intent.

      Kakuzu’s voice was a low, gravelly growl as they halted atop a ridge. “I still can’t believe Pain changed our target from the Two-Tails to the Three-Tails. What a waste of time.”

      Hidan chuckled darkly, dragging his scythe behind him with an audible shink. “Maybe he’s just jumpy after Deidara screwed up. That brat got his pride split in half by Weasel.”

      Kakuzu scoffed. “Deidara is nothing more than a self-absorbed child with a superiority complex. He won’t last long on his own without a partner watching his back. He thinks art will save him—it won’t.” His eyes flicked coldly toward the village. “Especially not in a place like this.”

      “Shame,” Hidan muttered, licking his lips in thought. “I would have loved to offer him to Jashin-sama. His screams probably sound like fireworks.”

      Kakuzu groaned. “Focus, idiot. We’re here for the Three-Tails, not to expand your blood sacrifice list.”

      “But what if I find a bonus offering, huh?” Hidan grinned maniacally. “So many shinobi. So much sin. Jashin-sama would love this place.”

       Kakuzu muttered something about divine stupidity and continued walking. The two vanished into the mist as the winds howled softly above Kirigakure.

       Near the outer wall of the Kiri prison, another group crouched in the underbrush, obscured by the rising fog. A ruinous stillness settled over them, heavy with anticipation. Sasuke’s fingers traced along the edge of his map one final time before rolling it up. He stood, adjusting the long cloak that billowed in the cool air.

       “Alright,” he said dryly, “is everyone ready to commit a war crime that’ll guarantee we get hunted to the ends of the earth by the Mizukage?”

       Karin cracked her neck, chakra flaring faintly under her skin. “I’ve been ready since we left Uzushio.”

      Tayuya pulled her flute from the holster on her thigh, twirling it expertly between her fingers. “I can’t wait to traumatize some guards. It’s been too quiet here lately.”

       Jugo calmly removed his cloak, baring the markings on his arms—evidence of his transformations just waiting to be unleashed. “I’ll make it clean if I can, but if it gets messy…” He let the sentence hang.

       Suigetsu stepped forward, half-visible in the mist, a crooked grin on his face. “Man… Yagura’s gonna freak out when he sees me. I can’t wait to see his reaction and maybe traumatize him a little bit.”

       Sasuke tilted his head slightly. “Try not to spook the Jinchūriki too much. We’re here to liberate him.”

       Suigetsu laughed. “I make no promises.”

       Sasuke looked toward the towering silhouette of the prison in the distance, its watchlights flickering against the gloom. “Let’s move. We’ll hit the southern wall. Suigetsu, you’re on infiltration. Tayuya, distract with genjutsu. Jugo, punch a hole if needed. Karin, you’re with me. Once we’re in, we move fast. Yagura doesn’t leave without us.”

      The group nodded silently, a collective breath of resolve passing between them. Tonight the mist would bleed.

       From the shadows, Suigetsu crouched beneath the outer wall, his bare feet barely making a splash in the shallow water beneath him. He placed a hand on the cold stone and whispered, “Suika no Jutsu.” (Hydrification Technique)

       His body turned to liquid, surging like a thin film of water up the side of the wall. As he reached the edge of the ramparts, he reformed quietly behind a patrolling guard. With a sickening squelch, he grabbed the man’s neck from behind and crushed his trachea, muffling the body before it even hit the ground.

       He gave a low whistle. “Clear.”

       Tayuya heard the signal and immediately stepped forward, bringing her flute to her lips.

      Her fingers danced along the polished instrument. The haunting notes of Mateki: Mugen Onsa (Demonic Flute: Phantom Sound Chains) echoed through the mist. A pair of shinobi near the guard tower collapsed to their knees, clutching their heads and screaming as spectral chains wrapped around their limbs, dragging them into a genjutsu-induced nightmare. More guards turned, but they were too slow.

       Jugo leapt from the shadows with inhuman strength. His shoulder exploded into a massive, armor-like mutation as he slammed bodily into the southern wall. BOOM. Stone cracked, sending a thunderous tremor through the base. Guards panicked inside, scrambling into formations—but they weren’t ready for what followed.

      From the dust, Sasuke strode in calmly, dragging Kubikiribōchō behind him. The massive cleaver carved a trench in the stone as he walked, his black coat billowing from the impact. 

      “Try not to kill everyone,” he muttered to no one  in particular. “I might need one of them alive.”

       A trio of Kiri guards appeared, armed with kunais and shuriken. They all wore the standard Kiri flak jackets, matching uniforms nonetheless. They made a big mistake in challenging him. 

      Sasuke didn’t even blink. He pivoted, dragging the massive cleaver upward in a brutal arc. THWACK. The sword cleaved straight through the guard and split his chest in half, sending him crashing into the wall.

      “Dear god,” one of the other guards muttered.

      “I’m not a god,” Sasuke said, kicking forward. “I’m your worst nightmare.”

      The next two tried flanking maneuvers, but Sasuke was quicker. “Dōton: Doryūsō!” (Earth Release: Rising Stone Needles)

      He slammed his palm against the ground, and jagged spikes of rock impaled one of them before he could move. The last tried a water clone, only for Sasuke to bisect both the clone and the original with one precise spin of his blade. Kubikiribōchō glowed faintly from absorbing the blood, its edge sharpening.

       Inside, alarms blared, but Karin surged ahead, her chakra chains slamming into a doorway to snap it off its hinges.

       “There! Down the left corridor, B-Block!” she shouted.

      Tayuya leapt over two unconscious guards, laughing. “This is more fun than I thought!”

      The group stormed deeper into the prison halls. Suigetsu ran beside Sasuke, giddy. “You weren’t kidding about that sword. Damn!”

       Sasuke said nothing. He simply rotated his wrist and let the blood drip from the tip of Kubikiribōchō like an ink quill.

      Meanwhile, deep below, Yagura curled tighter in the corner of his cell. The chakra suppression cuffs had left his skin pale and his mind dull. He hadn’t seen light in months. Isobu stirred weakly inside of him, the bond between them barely alive.

       Then… the wall exploded. Shrapnel flew in all directions as Jugo barreled through the stone, tossing aside remnants like gravel. Karin ran in first, scanning the seals. “There! He has chakra suppression cuffs on! Tch!” 

      She yanked one free and looked at Sasuke. “Can you break them without killing him?”

      Sasuke knelt by the former Mizukage. “I’ll try.” 

      He pressed his fingers to the cuff, channeling chakra through a spiral seal etched into his wrist. The mark pulsed, and the cuff cracked, then split open.

      Yagura stirred. His eyes fluttered open. “Who…?”

      “We’re not your enemies,” Sasuke said coolly. “But we’re not heroes either. Come with us if you want your freedom back.”

      Two cloaked figures stepped into the edge of the prison’s territory.

      Kakuzu’s voice was cold like ice. “Looks like we’re not the only ones interested in the Three-Tails.”

      Hidan grinned, licking his lips. “Jashin must really love me tonight.”

      The prison’s interior trembled with the sound of distant chaos—crumbling stone, clashing weapons, and howling alarms—but down in the lowest cellblock, time seemed to freeze.

       Yagura sat hunched against the cracked remains of his cell, his sea-green hair clung damp to his pallid face and his breathing came in slow, pained intervals. Even so, as his vision cleared, he saw the faces before him and immediately tensed upon recognizing two familiar individuals. His voice rasped, but his tone held conviction. “…Sasuke Uchiha and… Suigetsu Hōzuki.”

       Suigetsu folded his arms, his jaw clenched. “You’ve got good eyes for someone who’s been rotting in a cave.”

      Yagura’s expression dimmed. “I know why you’re angry. What happened to your clan during my rule… I never intended for that bloodshed, but intent doesn’t change what happened.”

      Sasuke stepped between them, stooping down beside the former Mizukage. “Save it for later. We’re not here to drag up the past, we’re here to get you out of this hellhole.” He held out a hand. “Can you walk?”

      Yagura hesitated. Then, slowly, he reached up and accepted the hand. Sasuke and Karin helped him to his feet, carefully supporting his frame.

      “Move slowly,” Karin muttered. “Your muscles are probably half-dead.”

      Before another word could be exchanged—

     “INCOMING!” Karin shouted, her chakra flaring violently as she sensed killing intent fast approaching.

      Tayuya was already moving, flute to her lips. “Jugo, now!”

      “Already on it,” Jugo growled, his body erupting in curse-marked flesh. He leapt through the ruined corridor, intercepting a barrage of shuriken and kunai laced with explosive tags. His arm, morphed into a monstrous club, slammed into the ground and created a barricade of stone.

      Tayuya’s haunting melody filled the corridor. Spectral figures appeared, conjured illusions forcing the enemy shinobi to falter, clutching their heads in confusion.

      Suigetsu turned back to Yagura. ”Why the hell are you so important that we’re risking a war to spring you?”

      Yagura glanced at Sasuke. “That’s a good question: why are you doing this?”

       Sasuke’s voice was low, but resolute. “Because I’ve been where you are. I know what it’s like to be imprisoned for someone else’s crimes. Mei and her council knew you were under a genjutsu. Hell, you told them yourself. But politics don’t care about truth.”

      He adjusted his grip on Yagura’s shoulder as they moved. “They wanted someone to blame and you were convenient.”

      Yagura’s jaw clenched, lips tight. “So you’re fighting Kirigakure for me?”

      “I’m not fighting Mei,” Sasuke clarified. “I’m fighting corruption. If it was just her maybe this wouldn’t be necessary, but she let them lock you away even after the truth came out. I can’t respect that.”

      Yagura took in a shaky breath. “…Do you know who placed the genjutsu on me?”

      Sasuke looked forward, gaze sharp. “It wasn’t my brother. I ran into him not long ago. He made it clear he wasn’t the one behind it.”

      Karin raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment.

      “That means there’s another Uchiha out there,” Sasuke continued. “Someone who’s been hiding in the shadows manipulating people from behind the scenes. I don’t know who yet, but I will.”

      Behind them, Suigetsu scratched the back of his head. “I’m still trying to catch up on all this. I’ve been stuck in a test tube for… what? Half a decade? I barely even remember what day it is.”

      Tayuya scoffed. “You didn’t miss much: just some new Kage, a couple of smirkishes, and a giant criminal organization playing collect-the-bijuu. All the pieces are just rearranging themselves on the board.”

      She paused, giving Yagura a look. “You were one of the queens. Now you’re a discarded pawn.”

      Yagura didn’t flinch. “Then let’s see what a pawn can still accomplish.”

       Sasuke lifted Kubikiribōchō, resting the massive cleaver on his other shoulder. “Let’s move. They’ll be on us in minutes.”

      The halls echoed with the group’s footsteps as they surged forward—toward the surface, toward freedom, and toward a future no one could yet predict. The stone doors of the underground prison groaned as they gave way to the courtyard above only for chaos to greet them.

      Under the pale blue hue of the moonlight, the once-secure courtyard had become a battleground. Dozens of rogue shinobi—escaped prisoners—raged against Kirigakure guards, chakra-fueled attacks lighting up the storm-churned night sky. Shouts, screams, and the clang of steel echoed all around. Karin struggled to steady Yagura as the group halted just outside the exit.

      “Great,” Suigetsu muttered, staring at the chaos down below. “When you said this was going to get us hunted I didn’t think we were going to liberate every cell.”

      Sasuke quickly shifted Yagura’s weight half onto Karin.

      “Hold him steady,” he ordered calmly, eyes narrowing on the battle before them.

      “You’re going to—?!” Karin started.

      But he was already gone. In a blink, Sasuke darted forward into the heart of the chaos, his cloak billowing behind him as he blurred past prisoners and leapt into the fray. “Dōton: Ganban Hitsugi!” (Earth Release: Bedrock Coffin)

      Massive pillars of stone erupted from the ground, encasing several rampaging escapees in solid blocks of rock, their screams muffled by the sudden crush of terrain.

      Jugo let loose a roar, charging in with limbs transformed into monstrous shapes. One unlucky prisoner attempted to strike him from behind, but Jugo’s shoulder extended mid-swing, battering the man into unconsciousness before he could even connect.

      Tayuya played a sharp note on her flute. “Mateki: Mugen Onsa!” (Demonic Flute: Phantom Sound Chains) 

      A ghostly chain snaked through the air, ensnaring a group of prisoners mid-jump and slamming them into the prison walls. Blood sprayed as the genjutsu amplified their pain tenfold, forcing their nervous systems into complete shutdowns.

      Sasuke leapt onto a toppled watchtower, drawing Kubikiribōchō from his back in a clean arc. He spotted a cluster of enemies overwhelming a single Kirigakure jonin. “Katon: Gōka Mekkyaku!” (Fire Release: Great Fire Annihilation)

      A wall of flame surged from Sasuke’s position, rolling like a tidal wave across the battlefield. Prisoners scattered, caught off guard. The flames scorched the earth and engulfed at least half a dozen shinobi.

      With a spin, Sasuke landed behind another enemy, swinging Kubikiribōchō in a wide arc. The massive cleaver cleaved through his opponent’s chest, blood splashing across the dirt. Before another could capitalize on his momentary pause, Sasuke kicked the body into the attacker, knocked them down, and turned—his expression unreadable.

     “Suiton: Bakusui Shōha!” (Water Release: Exploding Water Colliding Wave)

      From his mouth, an enormous stream of water surged forward, blasting back multiple foes and creating a miniature flood in the courtyard that stalled the enemy advance. At that moment, Sasuke looked to Suigetsu, who stood near the edge of the battlefield still holding Yagura’s confiscated chakra cuffs.

      Sasuke jogged over and planted the hilt of  Kubikiribōchō into the ground at Suigetsu’s feet.

      “Take it,” Sasuke said, voice short with breath. “Just for now. When this is over you give it back.”

     Suigetsu stared at the cleaver, reluctant. “You really trust me with her?”

      Sasuke’s eyes locked onto his. “I’m trusting you to hold my blade. Don’t make me regret it.”

      Suigetsu exhaled, grinning. “Fine, but I’m counting this as a date.”

      He grabbed the sword with both hands. The weight was familiar, even comforting. “Let’s finish this then.”

      With Kubikiribōchō now gripped tightly in Suigetsu’s hands, the mist-born swordsman barreled forward like a grinning demon. The massive cleaver shimmered in the moonlight as he dragged it along the ground, kicking up sparks. Two rogue prisoners, recognizing the blade, charged at him with kunai wrapped in explosive tags.

      “Suika no Jutsu!” (Water Release: Liquid Body Shield)

      Suigetsu’s form partially liquefied, the kunai slicing clean through him as though he were made of jelly. He reformed behind one of the attackers and swung the cleaver with a savage overhead arc.

      CRACK.

      The sheer weight of the blow shattered the man’s arm, the blade burying into the stone path beneath them. The other prisoner tried to run. Bad mistake.

      “Suika no Jutsu: Jetto Suishin!” (Hydrification Technique: Jet Propulsion)

      Suigetsu liquefied his lower half and surged forward in a high-speed tackle, body launching like a water bullet and sending the second man tumbling across the courtyard unconscious.

      Jugo, now fully mutated—his shoulder and arm grotesquely shaped into a massive blade—turned the tide of a small group trying to escape the prison grounds. One unlucky enemy threw a shuriken barrage toward him.

       “Fūton: Reppūshō!” (Wind Release: Gale Palm)

       The chakra-infused gust he created with a swing of his mutated arm deflected the projectiles, followed by a downward slash that split the ground and sent the attackers flying.

      Jugo’s rage-filled roar echoed through the courtyard, but Sasuke’s distant voice grounded him. “Control it, Jugo. We’re not here to kill unnecessarily.”

      The larger man nodded slightly, his eyes burning with a desperate kind of clarity.

      Tayuya meanwhile took a defensive perch on the courtyard’s broken ramparts, flute at her lips. “Mateki: Genbu Sōkyoku!” (Demonic Flute: Death Melody Formation.

      Illusions surged forth, three Dokis forming from her chakra. The spectral figures charged the remaining cluster of rogue prisoners, striking them with invisible weapons that caused real pain—phantom wounds erupting across their torsos. A scream pierced the night—an enemy shinobi trying to claw at his own skin, convinced he was being torn apart by invisible beasts.

      Tayuya snorted. “These idiots can’t even handle a good genjutsu.”

      One managed to stagger through, getting within five feet of her. Tayuya’s eyes narrowed. “Oh for fucks sake! Dōton: Maddosupaiabaindingu!” (Earth Release: Mud Spire Binding)

      The ground beneath the shinobi’s feet erupted, muddy stone spires shooting up like claws, entombing his legs and locking him in place. She strolled up and cold-cocked him with the butt of her flute. The man slumped to the floor unconscious.

       Meanwhile, Sasuke reentered the center of the battlefield, weaving signs at dizzying speed. ”Raiton: Raimei-kyū!” (Lightning Release: Thunderclap Sphere)

      Electricity surged into his palms before discharging outward in a controlled burst. A dozen nearby opponents were struck with concentrated shocks—convulsing, their nerves fried, bodies twitching before dropping unconscious in puddles of water left by Suigetsu’s earlier assault.

      Sasuke landed between two more guards trying to subdue another escapee. They turned their attention to him.

      One charged with a sword. The other threw three kunai with deadly precision.

      Sasuke ducked low and swept the first’s legs with a powerful kick before rising and catching the incoming kunai—redirecting one back with a fluid wrist-flick into the shoulder of the second.

      “You’re not worth a real jutsu,” he muttered, backhanding the stunned attacker across the face and sending him into a nearby pillar.

      At the edge of the courtyard, Karin, supporting Yagura, watched it all unfold in stunned silence.

      Yagura, face pale but eyes wide with disbelief, asked, “Are they all like this?”

      Karin smirked. “They’re even worse when they’re bored.”

      Yagura blinked as Sasuke passed by, dragging two unconscious prisoners by the collar like bags of rice.

      “You’re insane,” Yagura whispered.

      Sasuke shrugged. “You’ll get used to it.”

      The sounds of battle finally began to die down. The enemy shinobi lay scattered in pools of water and scorched stone. Most were unconscious, a few limped away clutching broken bones. The prison courtyard was silent, save for the moaning of the wounded.

      Sasuke turned to Suigetsu. “Keep the sword a little longer. We’re not done yet.”

      Suigetsu grinned and hoisted Kubikiribōchō onto his back. “Just don’t cry if I get attached to it.”

      Sasuke rolled his eyes, then glanced upward at the stormy sky. The smoke still curled from broken tiles. The courtyard was damp with blood and storm rain when the next wave of chaos made itself known.

      A voice echoed through the haze, laced with smug arrogance. “Well, well… what do we have here?”

      Out from the shadows of the northern corridor stepped two figures, draped in black cloaks and the ominous red clouds of the Akatsuki. Kakuzu, tall, composed, and deathly calm, adjusted his sleeve as he glanced at the damage. His dull eyes scanned the piles of unconscious prisoners and bleeding guards.

      Hidan, dragging a wicked three-pronged scythe behind him, let out a low, amused whistle. “You guys did half the job for us. I love when the sacrifices arrange themselves like this!”

      His grin widened as he licked his lips. “Jashin’s gonna be eating good tonight.”

      Sasuke deadpanned. “I’m about half-tired of running into the fucking Akatsuki.”

      Tayuya snorted. “Are you some kind of magnet for psychotic weirdos or what?”

       Sasuke sighed, resting the massive cleaver over his shoulder. “At this point I must be. It wouldn’t surprise me if I’m the main character in a story full of people trying to ride my dick.”

      Karin snapped, her face red, “FOCUS, you egotistical morons!!”

      Behind her, Jugo and Suigetsu were already squaring up, tension coiling in their stances.

      Kakuzu finally stepped forward, tone flat. “Hand over the Jinchūriki now.”

      Sasuke arched an eyebrow and tilted his head, the rain sliding off his bangs. “Kakuzu of the five hearts, immortal via grotesque organ thievery, record of killing two S-Class missing-nin from Iwagakure. Bounty: two hundred million ryo, give or take.”

      He shifted his eyes to the other. “The Immortal Hidan, blasphemous zealot and mass murderer, immortal due to some disgusting pact with his god. Records include civilian massacres, missing-nin slaughters, and general assholery. Bounty: technically void because no one wants to deal with a living corpse.”

      Kakuzu paused, just briefly. “You’ve done your homework.”

      Hidan sneered, stepping forward. “You must be the one they’ve been bitching about—‘Weasel,’ right? What a stupid name for a loudmouth brat with a big sword. I bet you cry during thunderstorms.”

       Sasuke blinked slowly, completely unfazed. “Says the rotting cultist who’s one lobotomy away from gnawing on his own toenails.”

      Suigetsu stifled a snort. Tayuya outright laughed.

      “Damn,” she muttered. “He’s got no chill.”

      Hidan’s eye twitched. “You little—!”

      Kakuzu raised his hand. “Enough. The more you run your mouth the longer this takes.”

      Sasuke sighed dramatically and rolled his shoulders. “If I had a ryo for every time one of you people tried to ‘just take the Jinchūriki,’ I’d have enough money to rebuild Uzushio and buy Konoha a clue as to who I am. But hey… I’ve always wanted to test how many pieces your bodies break into.”

      Lightning cracked overhead. The air exploded into motion the instant Sasuke’s boots scraped the soaked stone.

      Sasuke pulled a sword out of his chest seal, the blade cleaving through the air, a silver arc that whistled toward Kakuzu. But the immortal Akatsuki member leapt back, his reflexes inhumanly sharp. His eyes glinted beneath his mask as he formed hand signs with terrifying speed. “Dōton: Domu!” (Earth Release: Earth Spear)

      His skin darkened to pitch black, muscles hardening like stone. Sasuke’s blade clanged off Kakuzu’s arm as he blocked the strike directly—no blood, no damage.

      “Tch,” Sasuke muttered, leaping back.

      Before he could adjust, Kakuzu opened his mouth. “Futon: Atsugai!” (Wind Release: Pressure Damage)

      A roaring vortex of compressed air launched from his hands, blasting straight at the group. Tayuya dropped and rolled, Suigetsu liquified instinctively, and Jugo grabbed Karin and Yagura to shield them behind a crumbling stone pillar.

      Sasuke flipped backward, landing low in a crouch. Lightning crackled at his fingertips as he quickly slammed a palm to the ground. “Raiton: Raiba no Maisō!” (Lightning Release: Thunder Fang Burial)

      Crackling bolts erupted from the ground, arcing toward Kakuzu’s feet—but the man vaulted backward again, unfazed. One of the masked beasts on his back detached, slithering free from beneath his cloak and levitating into the air.

      “Holy shit!” Karin shouted. “He has A MASK?!?”

     Meanwhile, Hidan had charged. Laughing maniacally, his scythe swung through the air like a pendulum. “Come here you little shits! Jashin demands blood!”

      Tayuya stepped forward, her flute raised. “Mateki: Mugen Onsa!” (Demonic Flute: Phantom Sound Chains)

      A haunting melody filled the air, weaving around Hidan’s senses. His steps faltered, then staggered. Tayuya smirked—until Hidan stabbed himself in the thigh and grinned. “You think that crap works on me? Pain is a blessing!”

      He lunged—only to be body-checked by Jugo, who erupted with partial transformations, his arm forming a jagged spike that he swung down toward Hidan’s chest. “Raghhhh—!”

      The scythe met Jugo’s transformed limb and nearly cut through—until Suigetsu reformed beside them, swordless but grinning, and slammed Hidan with a kick to the ribs. “You’re as crazy as they say, huh?”

      Back with Sasuke, the second of Kakuzu’s masked beasts detached and  released a wave of fire. “Katon: Zukokku!” (Fire Release: Searing Migraine)

      The fire licked across the courtyard, eating away at the rain and chasing Sasuke as he darted sideways. Sasuke skidded to a stop, holding up a seal. “Suiton: Bakusui Shōha!” (Water Release: Exploding Water Barrage) 

      A torrent of high-pressure water blasted from his palms, clashing with the fire midair. Steam exploded, fogging the battlefield.

      “Karin, now!”

      From behind the smoke, Karin slammed her palm down. “Dōton: Doryūsō!” (Earth Release: Earth Flow Spears)

      Massive spikes erupted beneath Kakuzu’s feet, attempting to trap him. But another masked beast flew in, taking the hit for him.

      Kakuzu, now growing annoyed, extended black tendrils from his sleeves. “You children are persistent.”

      The tendrils lashed out, piercing through Suigetsu’s chest as the swordsman reformed from a strike and trying to latch onto Jugo. Suigetsu coughed up blood. “Damn it… he’s hard to cut down.”

      Tayuya, bleeding from a scrape to her temple, ducked behind debris and shouted. “We need a better plan!”

      Sasuke grit his teeth. Kakuzu was a monster of stamina and versatility. “He’s cycling through his elemental hearts,” Sasuke muttered aloud, watching as one mask replaced another on the battlefield. “We need to take them out one by one.”

      Karin, panting and drenched in rain and sweat, replied. “And what about Hidan?! He can’t die!”

       Jugo stood protectively by Yagura, his skin crawling with Curse Mark veins, breathing heavily. “Then we hold them off long enough for Weasel to figure out a way.”

      Lightning crackled again in Sasuke’s hands. “Then it’s time to improvise…”

      He shot forward again, blade in hand, toward Kakuzu—while around him, the storm of chaos resumed. Kakuzu’s tendrils lashed out again, this time stabbing into a fallen stone pillar and ripping it from the ground, hurling it toward Suigetsu. The water-nature shinobi twisted his body, turning to liquid mid-air as the stone obliterated the ground behind him.

      “You really don’t know how to die, do you?” Suigetsu growled, reforming.

      Kakuzu didn’t respond. He formed a rapid string of seals. “Fūton: Atsugai!” (Wind Release: Pressure Damage)

       The wind compressed into invisible slicing currents, shooting through the air like blades. Karin and Yagura ducked behind Jugo as he tanked a portion of it, his Curse Mark morphing his skin into armor.

      “I’ll hold the line,” Jugo growled. “Go!”

      Sasuke leapt high, flipping over the shockwave and landing with a crash of chakra-enhanced force. He slammed Kubikiribōchō into the ground, channeling his lightning chakra into it. “Raiton: Inazuma Paruasu!l (Lightning Release: Lightning Pulse)

      The lightning surged through the blade and into the soaked ground, electrocuting one of the advancing masked hearts, its shell cracking violently before it exploded in a shower of porcelain fragments.

      Kakuzu growled. “You destroyed one of my hearts…”

      Sasuke’s eyes were hard, but weary. “Three more to go.”

      In the midst of the chaos, Tayuya had perched herself behind an overturned wagon. Her fingers danced across her flute, unleashing soundwaves that warped the battlefield. “Mateki: Mori no Gensō!” (Demonic Flute: Illusions of the Forest)

      Illusions of monstrous oni erupted around Hidan, distorting his perception as he spun in place, trying to strike down enemies that weren’t there. His laughter didn’t stop. “Yesss—more! Where’s the real one, though?! COME ON, JASHIN DEMANDS BLOOD!”

      CLANG!

      Jugo crashed into him with a shoulder charge that sent Hidan flying into the rubble.

      While Karin did her best to maintain her chakra reserves, she kept one hand over Yagura’s shoulder, feeding him low doses of chakra.

      “We have to get your reserves up,” she muttered. “Without your tailed beast and large chakra pools you’re too vulnerable.”

      Yagura’s gaze narrowed. “And the moment I gather enough chakra I’m helping you fight.”

       Karin gritted her teeth. “Fair enough.”

     Hidan emerged from the rubble, bloodied but grinning. His scythe gleamed as he threw it forward, the three blades spinning. “I found you, bitch!”

      The scythe scraped across Karin’s shoulder, leaving a deep gash.

      “KARIN!” Sasuke shouted, his rage flaring.

       In an instant, Sasuke was beside her, his palm slamming into the ground. “Katon: Nenshō!” (Fire Release: Combustion)

      A wave of superheated flames wrapped in lightning surged toward Hidan. He barely flipped away in time, but his skin sizzled, clothes burning. “OH YES! PAIN! GLORIOUS!”

      “Suigetsu!” Sasuke called, ”Cut him down!” 

      Suigetsu nodded as he quickly rushed over and picked Kubikiribōchō off the ground. “Finally!”

      With fluidity unnatural for someone wielding a massive cleaver, Suigetsu surged forward, blade carving an arc as he slammed it against Kakuzu’s arm, slicing deep. Black tendrils exploded from the wound, trying to bind the sword.

      “Not this time, freak,” Suigetsu hissed. “I am the mist.”

      He liquified, twisting around the tendrils, and spun the blade for a second strike.

      Kakuzu, now with two masks destroyed and a sword wound in his shoulder, released a deep growl. “I’m ending this.”

      His remaining masks floated back behind him, eyes glowing with elemental chakra. “Katon-Futon: Jigoku no Saikuron!” (Fire-Wind Combined Release: Infernal Cyclone)

      A swirling vortex of flame and wind blasted through the courtyard. Tayuya’s illusions burned away. Karin shielded Yagura with her body. Jugo took the brunt on his transformed arms and still screamed in pain.

      Sasuke was gone. Then—

      CRACK.

      Sasuke reappeared behind Kakuzu, a crackle of energy in his hand. “Raiton: Parususuteppu!” (Lightning Release: Pulse Step)

      He plunged a chakra-coated kunai straight through the base of Kakuzu’s spine. The man screamed, buckling, but didn’t fall. 

      “Three hearts left…” Sasuke murmured.

      Kakuzu’s stitched body cracked with tension as he wrenched himself upright from Sasuke’s kunai strike. The weapon had pierced deep, crackling with Sasuke’s chakra. 

      “That should’ve paralyzed him,” Sasuke muttered under his breath, panting. His clothes were half-burnt, blood streaking down his arms.

      Kakuzu snarled, yanking the kunai out and letting it clatter to the wet stone.

      “You’re a troublesome little bastard,” he growled. “But I’ve lived too long to fall for that.”

      Behind him, the three elemental masks hovered in formation — Wind, Fire, and Lightning — each tethered to Kakuzu’s back by roiling black tendrils. Their mouths opened with a metallic shriek.

       “Combined Release!” Kakuzu bellowed.

       The Wind mask exhaled a slicing vortex, the Fire mask ignited it mid-air, and the Lightning mask added crackling energy, forming a devastating spiraling inferno charged with plasma.

      “Get back!” Tayuya shouted, flinging herself into the prison, dragging Karin and Yagura with her.

       “That’ll cut through stone like butter!” Suigetsu yelled, backing off.

      Sasuke didn’t run. He drew a pair of tagged kunai and threw them toward the incoming cyclone. With one rapid handseal, he detonated them early. The detonation disrupted the wind flow, the unstable chakra in the cyclone unraveling violently. The fire burst prematurely, exploding mid-air in a massive boom that sent shockwaves through the battlefield. Sasuke skidded back, thrown by the force, his hands burned from proximity.

      “Dammit,” he muttered, struggling to stay upright.

      Kakuzu’s eyes narrowed. “You’re resisting despite being outmatched. Impressive.”

      Hidan quickly leapt into the fray with his scythe spinning. “Jashin’s calling, baby!”

      He aimed directly for Sasuke, who spun low and caught the scythe’s pole with a chakra-infused elbow.

       CRACK!

      Sasuke’s arm jarred from the impact. He winced.

      “God you’re persistent,” Sasuke muttered.

      Hidan grinned. “You’ll look great in a ritual circle!”

      Before the scythe could swing again, Jugo burst in from the side, his Curse Mark covering half his face. With a roar, he shoulder-checked Hidan with monstrous force, sending the immortal flying through a stone wall.

      Tayuya, from behind the cover of debris, brought her flute to her lips. “Mateki: Genki no Suitai!” (Demonic Flute: Phantom Oni Decay)

      The illusion jutsu twisted the vision of the Lightning mask, sending it into spasms of disoriented chakra. Jugo didn’t waste the opening. He leapt into the air, both fists charged with raw natural energy from his Curse Mark, and slammed down onto the mask’s core.

      CRACK!

      The mask shattered into porcelain shards.

      “One down!” Jugo bellowed.

      Kakuzu’s eyes widened — the Lightning heart’s thread connection to his body severed. Blood trickled from his mouth. “You bastards…”

      Snarling, Kakuzu ripped open his cloak, revealing the grotesque seams of his body, now with black tendrils flaring like whips. He slammed his fists into the ground. “Dōton: Kōgai Jutsu!” (Earth Release: Petrifying Jutsu) 

      His flesh turned rocklike. He became a living juggernaut. He charged — faster than expected — toward Suigetsu, who raised Kubikiribōchō.

      CLANG!

      The sword met Kakuzu’s stone fist, and the weapon cracked slightly from the force.

      “He’s not slowing down!” Suigetsu shouted.

      Sasuke regrouped near Karin and Tayuya, blood dripping from his jaw. “Karin, any chakra to spare?”

       “Barely,” she muttered, “but bite fast.”

       Sasuke sank his teeth into her shoulder, drawing enough to restore a fraction of his reserves.

       Tayuya looked at him. “We need a real plan.”

      Sasuke grunted. “The plan is simple: divide and conquer. Jugo and Suigetsu hold Kakuzu. We keep Hidan occupied. Karin will protect Yagura.”

      Thunder cracked above the ruins of the prison, splitting the heavens like glass. The fight raged on in the courtyard — fire, lightning, and wind howling between the stone pillars and blood-slicked floors.

      Kakuzu stood firm, his monstrous body cracked and steaming. Only two masks remained — the Wind and Fire masks, hovering like demonic wraiths tethered to his spine. Hidan grinned ear to ear, his body still injured by Suigetsu’s attack but otherwise unbothered.

      Sasuke was panting, crouched low with blood trickling from his lips. His swordless hands were burned raw from chakra overuse.

      Karin, beside him, was recharging the others while holding pressure on Jugo’s scorched shoulder. Tayuya’s flute was cracked, her chakra dwindling to its final threads.

      “They’re not going down,” Suigetsu muttered, wiping blood from his mouth. “How long can these freaks keep fighting?!”

      “Longer than we can,” Jugo growled.

       But before another blow could land—

       BOOM.

       A massive torrent of water surged from the southern cliffs, crashing into the prison wall and sending debris flying in all directions. The force blew out the flames and scattered the combatants momentarily. From the mist emerged several figures was Mei Terumi, the Fifth Mizukage, flanked by her personal guards — Ao, Byakugan active, and Chojuro, sword already drawn — Mei stood tall and furious.

      “What the hell is going on in my village?” Mei snapped, her voice like acid.

      Kakuzu straightened, mildly annoyed. “Tch. Reinforcements.”

      Hidan, licking his lips, grinned. “More bodies for Jashin.”

      Sasuke stood up slowly, ignoring the pain in his bones.

      “Wonderful,” he muttered. “Another pissed off Kage. Just what I needed today.”

      Mei’s gaze shifted from the broken prison, to the Akatsuki members, to Sasuke’s ragtag group.

      “You broke into my prison,” she snarled. “You released Yagura and you brought the Akatsuki into my land?”

      Sasuke raised a hand, calm but firm. “Yagura was imprisoned under false charges. You knew he was being controlled by a genjutsu, and yet your council locked him away for politics.”

       Ao scowled. “That’s slander—!”

      Yagura, bruised and barely standing beside Karin, raised his voice hoarsely. “He’s not wrong, Ao.”

      The courtyard fell silent. Mei’s fingers began weaving signs, Steam rising off her skin.

       “You jeopardized the safety of my entire village,” she spat. “Regardless of your intentions you’ve started a war.”

      Tayuya groaned. “Why do all the good deeds we do feel like bad PR?”

      Kakuzu, meanwhile, turned to Hidan. “We retrieve the Jinchūriki and get out. The bounty can wait.”

      “Oh, now you want to run?” Hidan laughed.

      Sasuke clenched his fists. “This is going to turn into a three-way bloodbath if we’re not careful.”

      Suigetsu stepped forward, blade in hand. “I say we cut our way through and let the survivors argue later.”

      Kakuzu launched his Wind Mask, the entity spewing forth a howling air blade toward Mei and her forces. “Fūton: Sanran suru kaze no ha!” (Scattering Wind Blade)

       Mei raised her hand. “Futton: Tokeru kiri!” (Boil Release: Dissolving Mist)

      A cloud of acidic vapor filled the air, neutralizing the wind before it could shred her forces. Stone hissed and melted where the mist touched.

       Sasuke sprinted forward, channeling lightning into his hands and forming an improvised jutsu. “Raiton: Āchi-jō no tsume!” (Lightning Release: Arcing Talon)

      A streak of lightning zig-zagged toward Kakuzu, narrowly missing the Fire Mask as it retaliated with a massive plume of flames. Tayuya and Jugo dove for cover. Ao clashed with Hidan, avoiding the man’s scythe while he countered with a kunai. 

       Sasuke was thrown into a wall, barely shielding himself with a chakra wall. Tayuya countered a Mist Jonin with her chains while yelling at Karin to protect Yagura. Suigetsu and Chojuro — both swordsmen — briefly clashed, exchanging blows before they were forced to turn their focus back on Kakuzu’s firestorm.

      And then—

      The storm began to settle. The chakra in the air thinned. Fighters backed away, exhausted and half-dead.

      Mei glared at Sasuke. “One chance, Weasel. Explain why I shouldn’t kill you and your group here and now.”

      Sasuke exhaled, the cold mist of his breath mixing with the rising steam from Mei’s last jutsu. Blood trailed down the corner of his mouth. His chakra was running thin, and his hands were burned raw, but his grip on the situation remained iron.

      “I already told you,” Sasuke said, eyes narrowing. “Yagura’s imprisonment was unjust. I don’t care if you’re a Kage—he was used, just like I was, and I'd be damned if I’m letting another person rot for someone else’s crimes.”

      “You broke into a fortified prison,” Mei snapped back, her voice like molten steel. “And you jeopardized the safety of my entire village. If you wanted justice you should’ve come to me directly!”

      Sasuke scoffed. “Justice and politics don’t mix. You and I both know your council wouldn’t let Yagura walk. You needed a scapegoat for the Bloody Mist. He was convenient.”

      “Are we all just going to talk?” Kakuzu muttered irritably. With a snap of his arms, his last two elemental masks surged to life.

      “Fūton: Atsugai!” (Wind Release: Pressure Damage)

      “Katon: Zukokku!” (Fire Release: Searing Pain)

      A tornado of wind and fire tore through the battlefield toward the Kirigakure ninja, intent on wiping them out in one fell sweep.

      “Yōton: Yōkai no Jutsu!” (Lava Release: Melting Apparition Technique)

      A massive wall of corrosive lava surged from beneath Mei’s feet, exploding upward to block the oncoming firestorm. The clash of elements exploded in a shockwave, throwing soldiers and rogue shinobi alike into the walls and rubble. Chōjūrō swung Hiramekarei, unleashing a wave of compressed chakra that cleaved through debris and sent one of Kakuzu’s masks flying.

      “Kuchiyose no Jutsu!” 

      Tayuya planted her palm down, summoning three monstrous Doki. They burst into the battlefield with their grotesque stomach-mouths open wide, charging toward Hidan and Kakuzu with crushing force.

      Jugo roared beside them, his body partially transformed, one arm mutated into a massive spike of hardened chakra-flesh. He rammed it straight into the Wind mask, impaling it through the core.

      BOOM!

      The mask shattered, spiraling into useless fragments.

      Panting, Sasuke surged chakra to his fingertips. “Raiton: Raimei no kōka!” (Lightning Release: Thunderclap Descent)

      He slammed his hands together and dropped low. A wide blast of concussive lightning exploded from beneath Kakuzu’s feet, sending the man flying backward through a broken wall.

      Suigetsu, still holding Kubikiribōchō, surged forward. “Eat shit sucker!”

      He swung the massive blade down, catching one of Kakuzu’s black threads, severing it and ripping part of his arm clean off. Meanwhile, Hidan had used the chaos to draw his circle. “Jashin, bless this feast of blood!”

      He slashed his chest and howled, syncing with one of Mei’s jonin he had stabbed earlier. The man fell over screaming as Hidan laughed maniacally. “THIS is why I love war!”

      But Tayuya’s Doki slammed into him before he could finish the ritual, sending the madman flying like a skipping stone across the courtyard.

      “Byakugan!” Ao spotted the weakened Yagura, Karin holding him up, trying to dodge stray attacks. In a blink, he dashed toward them.

      “Capture the Jinchūriki!” he roared.

      Karin moved to shield Yagura, but Sasuke intercepted Ao in a flash, clashing hand-to-hand.

      “You’re fast,” Ao noted, surprised.

      “You have no idea,” Sasuke muttered.

      Steam and lava hissed at Mei’s feet as she floated above the melee on a column of hardened magma. Her hair billowed, her eyes shining with fury. “ENOUGH!”

      She slammed both hands together. “Yōton: Yōkai Bakusan!” (Lava Release: Dissolving Exploding Acid)

      A superheated acidic mist spread through the air, causing the entire battlefield to seize in panic. Buildings began melting. Armor hissed. Even Kakuzu stumbled backward.

      “We’re done talking,” she said. “All of you—Akatsuki, rogue shinobi, rebels—this ends now.”

      Sasuke stared up at her, unmoving.

      “Fine,” he said. “Then let’s finish this. No more talking.”

      Kakuzu growled. “Hidan. We’re either leaving with the jinchūriki or their corpses.”

      “Heh. I prefer both!” Hidan chimed in, bloodied but grinning.

      Kakuzu, his body already torn in multiple places, had two masks left—the Fire Mask, and the Lightning Mask—and both surged to life. Black tendrils twisted and snapped out from his skin, sewing new limbs from the corpses he’d claimed. A thick layer of earthen chakra coated him like a second skin. “Raiton: Gian!” (Lightning Release: False Darkness)

      The Lightning mask opened its jaws and fired a beam of condensed lightning, spiraling toward Sasuke like a spear.

      Sasuke moved, chakra flaring violently as he ducked low and kicked off the stone, narrowly missing the blast. But the ground behind him exploded, flinging him forward and tumbling through ash and water. Before he could recover, Hidan was already leaping toward him.

     “You’re slow, Weasel!” Hidan cackled, scythe arcing through the air. “C’mon! Let’s dance for Jashin!”

      CLANG!

      Sasuke barely blocked it with a kunai—only for the three-bladed scythe to knock it from his hand and dig deep into his side. Blood spattered the ground.

      “Sasuke!” Karin screamed.

      Tayuya unleashed another Genjutsu. “Mateki: Mugen Onsa!” (Demonic Flute: Phantom Sound Chains)

      The eerie tune warped the battlefield. Hidan’s limbs jerked as invisible restraints bound him. He screamed, writhing, while Jugo charged past him with a roar, his body monstrous with rage.

      “You’re not killing him!” Jugo’s punch shattered a chunk of Kakuzu’s armor, sending the zombie shinobi skidding.

      But Kakuzu retaliated instantly. “Die.”

      Black tendrils pierced through Jugo’s shoulder, dragging him and slamming him into a wall.

      Sasuke tried to stand. His vision blurred. His side gushed blood. The scythe wound was deep, nearly fatal. His chakra was depleted, his muscles trembled. Yet he gritted his teeth and pushed himself upright. “I’m not dying here… Not now…”

      Memories began to surge. His brother. His mother. His clan’s corpses. The seal on his neck. Orochimaru’s eyes. The bodies he burned. The home he lost. The friends he left behind. And the ones he’d found again—even if they were misfits, outcasts, monsters.

      He looked at Karin, covered in blood but still protecting Yagura. Tayuya, screeching on her flute. Suigetsu, wounded, wielding Kubikiribōchō like it weighed nothing. Jugo, broken but still trying to get back up.

      His team. His family.

      Something broke. Something shattered. And something awoke.

      Pain unlike any he’d felt before crushed his chest, but his vision cleared. Black petals of chakra spiraled into his eyes as the air around him shifted.

      A ripple. A hum. A burning clarity.

      The Mangekyō Sharingan.

      Kakuzu stumbled. “What—?”

     Hidan froze mid-laugh. “Wait, what the hell… Sasuke Uchiha? I thought Orochimaru—”

      “No… that’s…” Kakuzu’s eyes widened. “Then that means—he’s Sasuke Uchiha? But… he’s supposed to be Orochimaru’s—”

      “No,” Sasuke muttered, his voice deadly quiet. “I’m not anyone’s vessel. I’m the reaper.”

      “Katon: Gōka Mekkyaku!” (Fire Release: Great Fire Annihilation) A sea of black-and-red fire exploded from his lungs, far more intense than his earlier jutsu. It tore across the courtyard, incinerating several corpses and melting the prison walls. Kakuzu’s earth mask burned to ash before it could even react.

      Then Sasuke vanished. With his reaction speed-enhanced by the Mangekyō, Sasuke reappeared in front of Hidan, fist crackling with raw lightning. “Chidori: Chakuratō!” (Chidori Chakra Blade)

      He slammed it directly into Hidan’s chest, severing one of the zealot’s arms clean off and sending him flying back into the boiling lake below. Kakuzu lunged, furious, his threads snapping outward. But Sasuke caught them with both hands, eyes spinning with his new Sharingan, and funneled lightning chakra directly into the threads. They writhed violently, rejecting the foreign chakra.

      “You’re done,” Sasuke growled.

      Just as Sasuke prepared another technique—

      “Enough!!”

      Mei Terumi, battered but radiant with power, stepped between all sides, her chakra flaring like a supernova. “Everyone, stand DOWN!”

      Even Hidan, dragging himself from the water, paused. The battlefield froze. Bodies. Ash. Steam.

      And in the middle of it, Sasuke Uchiha, his eyes still glowing, standing with smoke rising from his shoulders and blood running down his side.

      “That brat…” Hidan spat blood.

      “We’re leaving,” Kakuzu muttered, retrieving Hidan’s severed arm with a growl. “For now.”

      They disappeared into the night. And Sasuke—finally—let himself fall to one knee, barely staying upright. Karin ran to his side. Jugo supported him. Tayuya kept watch, flute still in hand. 

      Suigetsu stood over him, holding his sword out. “You good, Sasuke?”

      Sasuke gave a tired smirk. “Not even close.”

      But his eyes burned brighter than ever.

      The blood-steamed battlefield outside the shattered Kirigakure prison was far too quiet. Bodies smoldered. Guards groaned. The remains of Kakuzu and Hidan’s retreating chakra trails sizzled into the night mist. And at the far edge of the chaos, Mei Terumi stood, her long auburn hair tousled and damp with sweat and rain.

      Behind her, the full force of Kiri’s elite ANBU and council guards lined up, several visibly wounded but standing firm. Her sea-green eyes locked onto the battered group huddled in the center of the courtyard—Sasuke, bleeding from multiple wounds and struggling to remain upright, surrounded by his allies: Karin, Tayuya, Jugo, Suigetsu, and a gaunt Yagura Karatachi.

      “Detain them,” Mei snapped.

       The command was met with immediate motion—ANBU surged forward. But Sasuke didn’t move to fight. Instead, he raised his blood-slicked hand, chakra flaring through his wrist, into a half-formed seal.

      Karin’s eyes widened. “He’s not seriously—”

      “Stay close,” Sasuke whispered, a grim smile tugging at his lips. “I left us an escape route.”

      A dense, swirling mist erupted around them. Wind and heat bent violently. A strange pressure pulsed outward, disorienting the approaching shinobi.

       The ANBU hesitated mid-sprint.

      “Space-Time Ninjutsu?!” one gasped.

      And then, before Mei could act, the entire group vanished in a flurry of violet smoke and summoning ink.

      “Damn you, Sasuke Uchiha!” Mei shouted into the empty courtyard, fists clenched. “That bastard reverse summoned them—!”

      She spat onto the stone, furious. “Track their trail! I want a report now! And if I ever see that boy again… I’ll boil his bones in lava.”

      Thunder cracked as the rogue group reappeared in a darkened stone chamber lit with torches, the smell of incense and moss-heavy air filling their lungs.

       Nekomata’s castle.

      Scrolls fluttered from the wind of their sudden arrival. The elegant, towering, battle-scarred ninneko strode forward with narrowed eyes.

     “What the hell happened?” Nekomata demanded, his fur bristling. “You’re not due back for another two days.”

      Yagura, still bruised but the only one standing straight, glanced down at Sasuke, who was slumped forward—barely conscious. Suigetsu dropped to one knee, panting. Karin had her hand pressed over a bleeding wound on her side. Tayuya coughed violently, her flute cracked. Jugo trembled slightly, chakra suppressed to keep himself calm.

      Sasuke, however, was the worst. His cloak was torn, blood soaked through his entire left side, and his eyes—still faintly red—fluttered closed as he collapsed forward.

      “We—” Karin gasped, staggering to support him. “We fought Kakuzu… and Hidan, broke Yagura out, and the Mizukage showed up. He used a reverse summon as a last resort.”

      Nekomata’s eyes widened. “He reverse summoned all of you? In that condition?!”

      “And he used the last of his chakra to do it,” Suigetsu muttered. “Idiot.”

      Nekomata didn’t hesitate. “Get the medical kits! Blankets! Get the group medical attention now! 

      Several ninnekos darted off. Nekomata strode forward and knelt beside Sasuke, carefully checking his pulse. “He’s alive, but barely. Whatever fight he just pulled… he didn’t walk away from it clean.”

      He turned to Yagura, who stood solemnly behind them, silent. “You’re Yagura.”

       “Yes,” he said quietly.

      “Then sit. Rest. We’ll talk later.”

      As the room swirled with motion and healing efforts, Karin pulled Sasuke’s limp body onto a futon. She hesitated, brushing back the dark hair from his sweat-slicked brow.

      “You stupid, reckless bastard,” she whispered. “You could’ve died.”

      Behind her, Tayuya leaned back against the wall, her eyes barely open.

      “He’s too stubborn to die,” she muttered. “That’d be too easy for him.”

      Jugo simply nodded, his calm restored, watching over them all.

      Suigetsu, wrapping his bruised ribs, glanced toward Sasuke with a snort. “Guess ‘Weasel’ wasn’t just a name, huh? He really did slip right out of that trap.”

      As the torches flickered and the room filled with the soft rustle of bandages and the scent of healing balm, Nekomata stood silently, gazing over his battered charges.

      “Rest, all of you,” he murmured. “The storm’s passed… for now.”