Chapter Text
—Stay away from my son, you monster!
The ball was viciously snatched from his hands, as if his mere touch were nauseating. He watched with confusion as the man continued shouting at him for what seemed like a serious reason; the other villagers began to approach.
—Dad, that's enough! I invited him to play —said the boy who had smiled at him moments before.
—You invited him?! Don't you realize he's a demon?! Because of him, your mother died.
The expression on the infant's face changed radically; from the tenderness in his eyes, the deepest hatred emerged in his heart. Naruto didn't understand what they were referring to; he was barely six years old, but he was absolutely sure he had never met the boy's mother.
Mainly because no one ever approached him.
The man pushed his son aside and approached, with an obviously furious demeanor, to kick the blond boy.
—I don't want you to come near my son again, monster.
Naruto was on the ground, his stomach hurt; the murmurs among the crowd began to overwhelm him. No one came to help him — as usual — they all seemed to share the same genuine contempt for him.
Naruto didn't understand what he had done to these people to deserve such treatment.
—I-I didn't do anything, s-sir —he barely whispered; the pain was more than what he was used to receiving.
—Shut up, you bastard. Don't speak to me again.
As if a switch had been flipped, the boy tried to compose himself, anger rising to his face. He hadn't done anything wrong; he never understood why those people liked to hurt him.
—You don't have to treat me like that! I was just playing! —he shouted, exasperated.
The man was silent for a few moments; people began to whisper among themselves. Naruto didn't need to guess what they were probably saying about him; it was always the same.
"They should throw him out of the village"
"He lost his parents, but he took our families from us; I don't know what the Hokage is waiting for"
"He's a danger to our children"
"Look at him, he looks so pathetic"
"We don't want him here"
"He's a monster"
The man slapped the child; no one intervened in that act.
—Damn bastard, I wish you were dead instead of my wife —the man said as he resumed kicking the boy.
Naruto didn't respond; his split lip burned. The cold ground embraced him; from there he could barely see the other people; the man didn't seem to want to stop. The boy from before now seemed to gloat over his suffering.
"I wish you were dead"
For once, he wanted to feel that. If it was the only way to end such contempt.
A few minutes passed until the man finally tired; he spat on the coat he had managed to wash and then moved away. His inert body remained on the ground; the crowd dispersed, as if his presence wasn't even relevant. Maybe it would have been better to stay quiet. It was the first time he had been beaten like that; most people only gave him looks of pure contempt or simply whispered things that Naruto already knew were far from pity.
When he finally managed to get up and steady himself, he walked as best he could. He was going to head towards what he knew as home, a small apartment the Hokage had given him; however, a particular smell crept into his nose. Naruto followed the aroma, being led to a ramen stand; he positioned himself in a corner.
Some people got scared of him, so he had to be cautious.
He didn't know when it had started raining; he only noticed that his clothes were somewhat soaked and his blond hair stuck to his forehead. A woman had her back turned; Naruto made no sound.
The place was pleasant; he managed to make out a sign that said "Ichiraku Ramen". There was a small shelf with a picture of a man the child didn't know; he only read something like "Teuchi". He deduced that this man was no longer in this world; there were some candles accompanying the frame.
Timidly, he approached the counter; just at that moment, the woman — apparently the owner of the place — turned around. She observed him for a few seconds, noticed his lip that needed attention, but said nothing.
—What are you going to order? —she asked dryly.
—I-I don't know, is there something you like? —he replied, almost in a whisper.
The brunette raised an eyebrow; she didn't usually have patience, and with that boy it would be no exception; however, the only reason she didn't respond sarcastically was because that brat had asked about something she particularly liked.
—The Miso Tonkotsu; it's the best, everyone orders it.
Naruto lowered his gaze to the counter, watching the steam rise from a bowl the woman had served for another customer who was already leaving.
—H-how much does… the Miso Tonkotsu cost? —he asked, his voice barely audible.
The woman picked up a cloth and began wiping the surface without looking directly at him.
—One hundred twenty ryō.
Silence simply settled in; the boy reached into the pocket of his damp coat. He took out a few coins, counted them once, then again. The metallic sound against the wood was brief.
He didn't even have half.
He felt his insides ache again, but this time not from the blows. Naruto swallowed, ashamed of what he was about to say.
—I… —he paused, hesitating—. I can bring the money tomorrow, I promise. The Hokage gives me my allowance every week… I can pay you everything tomorrow.
The brunette finally looked at him directly; her eyes went down to his marked cheeks, then to his split lip again. There was no compassion, perhaps there never had been.
—I don't give credit for food —she replied in a surly tone.
Naruto squeezed his fingers against the coins.
—J-just for today… I'm really hungry.
The tone wasn't demanding; he had already learned — the hard way — what they could do to him. It was simply almost a plea that tried not to sound like one. The woman put the cloth down on the counter with a small, sharp tap.
—And I have a business, not a charity.
The blond felt that the warmth of the place was no longer enough to counteract the cold of the rain still falling outside.
—I won't cause any trouble —he whispered.
She took a step towards the entrance and lifted the fabric curtain separating the place from the outside, looked at him without feeling a shred of remorse.
—Get out.
Naruto didn't move; his chest began to tighten again softly; honestly, the fact that it was soft didn't lessen the pain.
—Please…
—I said get out; I don't want customers scared away by your presence.
The sentence was spoken with the same neutrality with which one announces it's going to rain. Naruto gathered the coins with trembling hands. He climbed down from the stool carefully, as if any sudden movement could make things worse.
When he crossed the door, the woman let the curtain fall with a thud. The sound was louder than the distant thunder; the rain finished soaking him; it was now more intense.
Naruto remained for a few seconds under the eaves, listening to the murmur of the water and the distant simmering of the broth that was no longer for him. Then he began to walk, slower than before. Maybe he would eat some leftovers he had in his apartment, until he received the money the Hokage usually gave him.
Naruto understood that there was nothing he could do in a place where he simply wasn't welcome; he hoped to become Hokage someday, maybe then the village people would respect him and wouldn't belittle him.
Maybe then they would love him.
[. . .]
—Why..? Why did you do this? —whispered the black-haired boy, his terrified and agonized eyes trying to find some explanation.
He was lying on the ground, a thread of saliva ran from the right corner of his mouth, his knees simply didn't have enough strength. He didn't have enough strength. He had been tortured by the family technique his brother had used on him.
—Itachi… why? —the child insisted.
—To measure the limits of my ability —replied his older brother.
—To measure your ability… you did all this for that? —he whispered, his weak body begging for mercy—. You're saying that's the reason you massacred the entire clan.
—It is of great importance.
—What are you saying? —Sasuke barely managed to say, trying to sit up although his body was paralyzed with panic—. You're insane!
Without waiting any longer, the boy stood up as best he could and ran quickly towards his elder with the intention of hurting him, a totally pathetic attempt since Itachi struck him with a punch to his abdomen, as if he were worth nothing.
Sasuke fell to the ground again, looked up and saw the lifeless bodies of his parents, the blood flowing more and more in his direction until it almost touched him, tears undoubtedly began to flow. The horror in his eyes was evident, his hands trembled. As best he could, he dragged himself to get up and run for his life.
—Please, I don't want to die! —he screamed as he ran through the streets of the district.
He stopped abruptly when he saw his brother's figure in front of him, as if his escape route had been useless and pointless.
—Please, don't kill me —Sasuke panted, his eyes teary, barely managing to stay steady.
—You're not even worth killing —Itachi replied—. Insipid little brother.
He couldn't deny that; he wasn't strong enough. So much so that Itachi kept emphasizing that his pathetic existence only continued out of pity.
—If someday you want to kill me, to fuel your hatred and your contempt, surviving is a rare way to achieve that. So run, run and live with the shame.
He woke up.
He sat up quickly in bed, his breathing was irregular, he had his sharingan activated.
The room was empty, like the house, like the district.
Sasuke frowned and went to the bathroom to wash his face; it was the same dream since that day, a part of him wished it were just that, a dream. His mind replayed that memory like a loop that never seemed to give him respite, that simply wanted to destroy the stability of his mind and torture him.
He would prefer an open wound, pouring salt on raw flesh, because that would mean it would eventually scar, it would stop hurting. But his mind carried a wound that seemed it would never heal, that would haunt him for life.
Then he dressed quickly and headed to the academy; some people looked at him with curiosity, sometimes with morbid fascination for being the "last survivor of the massacre."
If he was a survivor, why did he feel dead inside?
He never found an answer to that question, probably never would. He continued walking, trying to empty his thoughts; for a moment he stopped, he heard a noise that caught his attention.
—I've already told you not to come near, brat! —shouted a man.
The black-haired boy simply stayed quiet and watched the scene; the older man seemed to be the owner of a prop shop or something; the Uchiha didn't really pay attention to that.
—I just wanted a mask! —replied a voice that Sasuke, unfortunately for him, recognized.
The man pushed the child to the ground with utter contempt; Naruto snorted and picked up his coins to put them away. Sasuke did nothing, he didn't approach and didn't flinch. Naruto wasn't strong enough, that's why he couldn't defend himself; weak people tend to be easy targets, maybe that's why the whole village despised him; Sasuke knew that perfectly well.
It was Naruto's fault for not being a firm ninja, for not hating those people enough.
Sasuke frowned knowing that he wasn't either; he did nothing when his parents died, he escaped like a coward begging for mercy.
He was going to continue drowning in his thoughts when he noticed that blue eyes were also observing him. The blond didn't smile, didn't approach, simply noted his presence there, then left.
The black-haired boy snorted and continued on his way to the academy; people murmured about his clan, about his parents, about how the Uchiha clan had become a disgrace to Konoha. Sasuke no longer found meaning in anything, neither in the rumors nor in his own existence.
The only thing he wanted was to become powerful and kill his older brother with his own hands to avenge his clan; beyond that, his life was as relevant as a leaf on a tree.
Insipid, as Itachi had said that time.
When Sasuke arrived at the academy he was greeted by stares and smiles from his female classmates; he didn't understand why those girls couldn't leave him alone. He just wanted to be alone; he didn't bother anyone and hoped not to be bothered by any of them.
Lessons continued their course; Iruka-sensei asked for some jutsu that Sasuke didn't pay attention to; he looked out the window, as if everything were a vile routine.
—Remember that tomorrow we'll have the final evaluation for you to become genin; attendance is mandatory. Those who pass the test will be assigned to a team; I repeat, it's extremely important that you come tomorrow.
Most in the classroom shouted; they were excited; it was an important phase for a ninja. Naruto smiled slightly; it was a crucial step to becoming Hokage.
In the afternoon, Sasuke visited the memorial of the fallen; he had never deigned to go before, because that would imply that the nightmare he was living wasn't that—it was the real world.
The black-haired boy approached and read some names he didn't recognize; he lowered his gaze and encountered the misfortune that his father's name, nor the people of his clan, appeared there, as if they had never existed, as if they weren't relevant.
—Not even the dead matter here —he whispered.
In the distance, a golden-haired boy watched the Uchiha's figure; Naruto knew that Sasuke's entire clan had been exterminated; it was the only thing that seemed to matter to the villagers—talking about other people's lives as if their tragedy were a circus act.
"The Uchiha were always weird and resentful; I'm glad they're gone"
—Itachi… why?
The sound was barely heard by Naruto, as if it were something visceral and an open secret.
—I wish I had someone to ask why.
The blond thought that at least Sasuke had a great reason to hate, but he… he only had emptiness; since he was born it had always been like that.
Naruto walked away from that place; he never knew why he felt intrigued to follow Sasuke; he only knew that maybe, in some strange way… the Uchiha understood.
As he walked through the village, he recognized a figure that was also casually walking around; Naruto smiled slightly.
—Iruka-sensei!
The mentioned man turned towards the voice; upon seeing him, his neutral expression changed to one of disgust that he tried to disguise.
—Hello, Naruto. How are you? —he asked, trying to lessen the discomfort in his chest.
—Good, good, very good. Are you hungry? I was planning to go eat ramen; we could go together.
Iruka wanted to refuse; he didn't want to get involved in absolutely anything with that child. He knew that the one responsible for his parents' death was the Kyuubi and not Naruto; still, he couldn't help feeling disgust for him. Besides, he was a teacher and the Third Hokage had strongly asked him to look after Naruto; Iruka felt it more as an obligation than anything else, one for which he wasn't even paid, by the way.
—Sure, let's go.
The journey was silent; Iruka didn't want to share too many words with the boy; still, Naruto tried to bring up various conversation topics. Although little by little he was coming to the conclusion that his presence seemed like a nuisance; he hoped it was just his imagination.
When they arrived at Ichiraku, both sat down; the woman looked at them for a few moments and then asked for their order.
—Order whatever you want; I'm treating —said Iruka, without giving it much importance.
Naruto's eyes shone, his smile widened and he ordered his favorite ramen. The blond waited for the older man to order something too; that wasn't the case and he felt slight disappointment. The boy tried to tell him anecdotes and took the opportunity to say he was excited about tomorrow; he hoped to pass the test and become a genin.
—Yeah, whatever. Try to practice your jutsus —he replied simply.
When they brought the dish, it was lukewarm, almost cold; he looked at the woman with confusion; she only gave him a disapproving look; Naruto didn't complain. Iruca remained silent, avoiding eye contact with Naruto. For him, he was just fulfilling his duty with the monster child so the Hokage wouldn't scold him.
Naruto gradually fell silent; the conversation stopped going anywhere; he remained silent the entire time he ate the ramen.
—Can you hurry up?
Naruto's eyes slowly dimmed; he nodded almost timidly and finished the ramen hurriedly. Iruka just snorted and paid; Naruto decided to stay quiet because he didn't want to say something that would annoy his sensei.
—Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow; don't disappoint the Third Hokage. Believe me, he does a lot for you.
—I-I won't worry, Iruka-sensei. I won't let him down, nor you either.
The man wanted to laugh; he almost told the boy that he didn't even believe in him, but that would be a bit cruel; he preferred to stay quiet.
—Sure, see you tomorrow, Naruto.
Without waiting any longer, the ninja left, as if that moment had meant nothing; Naruto lowered his head and then left, not without first thanking the woman who had purposely served him a particularly cold bowl of ramen.
Upon returning to his apartment he lay down on his bed, hugged the pillow as if it could give him some comfort; a tear escaped and rolled down his cheek.
Did he really deserve all this?
Because no matter what he did, most people seemed to look at him with contempt and pretended —or tried— to appear as if they liked him.
For the first time, Naruto really cried; he continued hugging his pillow hoping maybe… someday that oppression in his chest, that emptiness… would leave him.
The reality was that, the only thing Naruto had, was that emptiness.
[. . .]
Time passed and Naruto had successfully become a genin. At first, he failed the test spectacularly; however, he begged his sensei for days to give him another chance. So great was his humiliation that Iruka agreed; then Naruto found out that the former teacher Mizuki had been dismissed and was no longer in Konoha; the blond didn't ask either.
It's not like teacher Mizuki was close to him anyway.
When he became a genin, everyone was astonished. No one expected that Naruto, the problem student, would actually manage to become one. Some bothered him for days saying he had probably cheated because he wasn't good enough to be a real ninja; Naruto responded angrily that wasn't the case.
When they were selected, he ended up belonging to Team Seven; Naruto was completely happy, he could spend time with the girl he liked, Sakura Haruno. A bright and beautiful girl who seemed to be the center of the blond's orbit; he was in love. However, Sakura just ignored him; Naruto thought that maybe being on her team he could show her his abilities and she would fall in love with him.
What Naruto didn't understand was how such a talented ninja like him ended up on the same team as that bitter Sasuke.
At first that boy had seemed mysterious to him, but after exchanging words with him, he turned out to be totally surly; he didn't understand why he always despised him.
One day Team Seven was resting after exhausting training. Sasuke was a few meters away, cleaning his kunai in deathly silence, while Sakura watched him with an almost feverish intensity, mentally rehearsing the right words to approach.
Naruto, ignoring the tension — as usual — wiped the sweat from his forehead with the sleeve of his worn-out jacket. For a brief moment, the adrenaline of having finished training gave him false confidence. He believed that, because they were a team, the rules of the game had changed.
—Hey, Sakura-chan! —he exclaimed, approaching with a smile that didn't reach his tired eyes—. I was going to get something to eat... well, you know, it's no big deal, but I wanted to know if you'd like to come with me. My treat!
Sakura didn't even turn her head; her eyes remained fixed on the Uchiha's silhouette.
—I'm not hungry, Naruto. Don't bother me.
—Oh, come on, it'll just be a moment —he insisted, taking another step—. We worked hard today, and I thought since we're a team now...
That word was the trigger. Sakura finally turned around, but there was no trace of the warmth she used to feign in front of teachers. Her green eyes were charged with pure, almost violent irritation.
—Team? —she repeated in an icy tone—. Naruto, get it through your head once and for all: just because Iruka-sensei put you in this group out of pity doesn't make us equals. Look at you.
She looked him up and down, stopping at the dirt stains on his clothes and the rancid smell the blond tried to hide.
—You're embarrassing. Sasuke-kun is a real ninja, someone with a legacy, with class. You're just... a mistake from the academy —she let out a dry laugh, devoid of humor.
The blond felt as if the air had become solid in his lungs. The rejection from the villagers was everyday, but coming from the only person he considered a light, it hurt in a different way.
—I just... it was just lunch, Sakura —he whispered, stepping back.
—Well, go eat it alone —she spat, turning her back on him again—. Do us all a favor and stop trying to fit in. You don't belong here, not on the team, not in Sasuke-kun's life, not in mine.
Sakura walked towards Sasuke with a radiant smile, changing her annoyed expression to one of tenderness in a second.
—Sasuke-kun! I was thinking you could teach me that move you did earlier...
Sasuke didn't even look at her; his black eyes were fixed on Naruto. The Uchiha said nothing, didn't defend the blond, didn't even show empathy. He simply observed Naruto's humiliation like someone watching an insect being crushed by a boot, with an indifference that hurt almost as much as Sakura's words.
Sakura finally turned around, and for an instant, something crossed her eyes. Something that might have been guilt, but she crushed it quickly, straightening her back. Even if she felt immoral having said all that to the blond, he was always bothering her; she hoped that with this Naruto would finally leave her alone.
Naruto lowered his gaze, his fingers tightly gripping the few coins he had left in his pocket. The emptiness in his chest widened so much he felt it would swallow him whole. He turned and began to walk towards the exit, dragging his feet.
He wasn't hungry anymore; he just wanted the world to stop existing for a while.
While walking, he veered into the forest; he didn't want to enter the village to go directly to his apartment. Although he knew his sensei wouldn't return, since training had already ended, Naruto sometimes suspected that Kakashi only trained them out of obligation; his bored look seemed to show that. Although Kakashi didn't seem to despise him or anything like that, Naruto trusted that the man simply hadn't found a way to deal with him; still, the blue-eyed boy held some affection for him. The bell test had been a great incentive, he had to admit; he even thought Sakura really accepted him; that was a grave mistake.
While wandering, kicking some leaves, a figure emerged in front of him, appearing out of nowhere. Naruto instinctively grabbed a kunai, afraid but with the innate ninja attack instinct.
—You seem lonely, huh —said a voice.
That person wore a mask; the blue-eyed boy could barely notice one eye on his face. The entity had a strange cloak — according to Naruto — with some red clouds.
—I suggest you lower that —he continued speaking—. My intention is not to hurt you; if I wanted to, believe me, you wouldn't be in this world anymore.
—W-who are you? —Naruto whispered, frowning.
—That's none of your business.
—I don't like people who spy —he said, trying to sound more annoyed than nervous.
The figure tilted his head slightly, almost mocking the irony in his words.
—And I don't like villages that lie.
The response was calm, too calm. Naruto automatically frowned.
—I don't know what you're talking about —he replied, still holding the kunai.
—Of course you do.
The man took another step, unhurried, without visible threat; that was what unsettled Naruto the most.
—I saw you today —Naruto automatically tensed.
—Lots of people see me.
—Not the way I do —he replied as if it were merely obvious.
What followed was an awkward silence; the masked man didn't move like an enemy, didn't seek to intimidate him, and didn't seem willing to attack him.
That made it worse.
—What do you want? —Naruto asked.
—Nothing; I just came to check something —the response was almost immediate.
—What?
There was a brief pause where the blond felt his hand tremble slightly; he didn't know if it was fear or something else.
—If you had already started asking questions.
Naruto felt something uncomfortable in his stomach.
—Questions about what?
The mask tilted slightly to one side, as if observing him with genuine curiosity.
—About why they hate you.
The air became heavy; Naruto clenched his teeth. Who the hell was that guy? Why did he seem to know something?
—They don't hate me.
The lie came out automatically, almost rehearsed and fragile. Like a mantra he had repeated to himself for years. The man let out a low laugh, but it wasn't mocking, nor cruel. It was totally worse because it was condescending.
—How interesting.
Naruto felt heat in his cheeks, shame flowing through his being.
—You don't know anything.
—I know a man wished you dead in front of everyone —Naruto was stunned and didn't respond—. I know no one intervened, and I know it's not the first time, right?
The kunai lowered slightly; Naruto swallowed, knowing the masked man wasn't completely wrong.
—Leave.
—Not yet.
The wind moved the dark cloak.
—Have you never wondered why adults look at you like that? Not with fear, with resentment.
Naruto felt the urge to shout at him to shut up, but he didn't, because a part of him knew it was true.
—You did nothing —the voice continued softly—. And yet they punish you as if you had committed the worst imaginable crime.
Naruto relaxed his expression but clenched his fists.
—It's none of your business.
—You're right —The man took a step back—. It's their business, and if you want answers, they're where they've always been.
The blond frowned, hating not knowing what he meant; he hated it because he never knew anything.
—What are you talking about?
—In the Hokage building, in the restricted archives, by the east wing, on the second basement level.
Naruto looked at him confused. The man laughed softly, as if he found the boy's ignorance amusing.
—I don't understand.
—Not yet.
The mask turned slightly towards the village, visible in the distance through the trees. A flash of hatred slipped through, but he said nothing; it wasn't time yet.
—When you're ready to open your eyes and stop blaming yourself for everything... go look for them.
Naruto felt his heart pounding hard, adrenaline increasing.
—Look for what?
The man took another step back, moving away.
—The reason you'll never be one of them.
—Wait!
But it was too late; the space where the figure had been stood empty, as if he had never existed. The forest gradually recovered its sounds; Naruto lowered the kunai. A restricted archive on the second basement level. Naruto shook his head and clenched his teeth.
—He's lying...
He turned abruptly; he wouldn't go; he didn't need any of that. He was going to become Hokage, and when he did... everyone would regret it. But as he walked back to the village, something kept repeating in his mind:
"You did nothing."
And for the first time in a long time, Naruto wasn't sure if that was true... or if they simply had never told him what he had done.
He thought the matter would end there; he hoped that individual had mentioned that as an attempt to deceive him; it was impossible that he knew too much about his life. Maybe he was hired by some villager who despised him to say all that. Naruto tried to forget the masked man's words. He repeated to himself that they were lies, that the old Hokage loved him, that Iruka-sensei was just busy. But at night, when the apartment became a box of silence, the questions returned like insects he couldn't squash.
The blond's uncertainty remained in a state of pause until the chunin exams, where everything would eventually rot.
The Forest of Death was a symphony of distant screams and shadows that seemed to come to life. At that moment, Naruto felt his pulse in his ears, fear crawling up his spine. Sasuke was on the ground, writhing as a dark mark began to branch across his neck like poison.
In front of them, the figure of Orochimaru stood with grotesque elegance, his long tongue licking his lips as he observed the "gift" he had just left on the Uchiha.
—What... what did you do to him? —Naruto shouted, his blue eyes flashing with a crimson tint due to fury and panic—. Damn you!
Orochimaru let out a hissing laugh, one that sounded like dry leaves dragging along the ground.
—I gave him a way out, little one —the Sannin replied, fixing his snake eyes on the blond—. This world is a web of lies woven by elders who drink tea while sending children like you to die. Do you really believe your precious Konoha is any different?
Naruto tensed; the words of that masked man in the forest returned to his mind like a violent echo.
—Shut up! The old Hokage and the others... they take care of the village!
Orochimaru burst into laughter that chilled Naruto's blood.
—Poor blind creature... The high ranks don't take care of the village; they take care of their secrets. They are parasites that feed on lineages like that boy's —he pointed at Sasuke— and keep the truth about your own existence under lock and key so you don't become the weapon they so fear. And it's curious... the fox's container defending with such devotion the village that despises him.
The blue-eyed boy stood petrified, feeling his pulse in his ears.
—You didn't know? Oh... how cruel leaders can be when they need a scapegoat —The Sannin began to sink into the ground, disappearing into the shadows.
The forest fell into deathly silence, only broken by Sasuke's groans of pain. Naruto fell to his knees beside his teammate; his hands trembled. The words of the masked man and Orochimaru's merged in his mind, forming a truth he could no longer ignore.
"When you're ready to open your eyes..."
Naruto looked at Sasuke, then at his own hands, and for the first time he didn't feel the desire to protect the village. He felt the urgency to burn the veil that kept him in darkness.
—Sasuke... —he whispered, but his eyes no longer sought comfort; they sought answers.
Sakura was petrified to one side, not fully understanding the situation; her body was completely immobile; she was in a state of shock. Naruto was the first to take her by the arm and carry both of them to a safe place. The girl wanted to move, wanted to help, but her body didn't respond. She watched Naruto carrying Sasuke and thought, for the first time, that maybe she had misjudged the idiot. Then she crushed that thought. She couldn't afford doubts, not if she wanted to remain who she was.
Sasuke writhed in pain and fell unconscious; the blond couldn't take it anymore and also collapsed. Sakura was the only one left awake, not knowing if those exams were really a ninja test or survival from death itself.
[. . .]
After a while, the teams were taken to the central tower where they fought individually against members of other teams. Naruto, to everyone's surprise, managed to defeat Kiba. Sakura beat Ino, and Sasuke... did what everyone expected of him.
Kakashi knew that curse mark would be a problem; Sasuke writhed in pain every time he tried to perform any jutsu to counteract it. The efforts were in vain, as nothing seemed to really work.
As soon as the fights ended, Kakashi took the opportunity to take the Uchiha to the mountains; there had to be some way to manage or at least control the curse mark that Orochimaru had imposed on him.
Naruto was outraged to learn that his sensei preferred to take the "Uchiha genius" and didn't even dedicate a little attention to him; the worst part was that he left him in charge of Ebisu-sensei, a man who had always looked at him with disgust. He kicked a stone in rage, watching how Kakashi and Sasuke's silhouettes disappeared into the thickness of the forest. Not a word of encouragement, not a training suggestion; just a teacher turning his back to polish the "star student" he cared so much about.
—It's fascinating, don't you think? —The voice emerged from the air, a distortion in reality that made Naruto jump back, drawing a kunai—. History repeats itself; talent always overshadows effort in the eyes of those in charge.
It was him, the man with the mask and the red cloud cloak. Naruto didn't lower his weapon, but he didn't attack either. Something inside him, a mix of toxic curiosity and loneliness, kept him anchored to the ground.
—Get out of here, I don't want trouble —Naruto muttered, although his voice lacked the conviction of a hero.
—Trouble is what you already have, Naruto. They've left you with a tutor who despises you while your "teacher" trains the Uchiha. They're raising you to be the support, the shadow... the cage that contains the monster until they decide you're no longer useful.
The masked man stepped forward. His single visible eye shone with an intensity that seemed to read the blond's darkest thoughts.
—I know what you're looking for. You want them to look at you, you want the pain in your chest to stop, but this village's "Will of Fire" is a myth that only serves to burn those like you.
—Shut up! I... I'm going to become strong on my own —Naruto replied, although the memory of the cold ramen and Iruka's looks of disgust clouded his judgment.
—With Ebisu? Don't make me laugh. —The man extended a gloved hand—. I can teach you something Kakashi wouldn't dare whisper. A technique born from the same source you carry inside.
—Why would you help me? —Naruto asked, finally lowering the kunai, although his knuckles remained white from the pressure.
—Because we're both pieces that don't fit on this world's board, Naruto. And because I hate seeing potential wasted in the hands of mediocre teachers.
The masked man stepped forward, his red cloud cloak waving slightly with the forest breeze.
—I'll teach you something —he continued with a voice that vibrated with dark nostalgia—. A technique I learned a long time ago from a person I knew... someone who believed he could change the world, but ended up being consumed by his own illusions.
Naruto looked at him intently, intrigued by the almost reverent, yet venomous, tone with which the stranger spoke.
—Is it a powerful jutsu? —the blond whispered, ambition beginning to overcome fear.
—It's the very essence of shape transformation, but for you, it will be something more. —The older man raised his right hand and, before Naruto's astonished eyes, a sphere of chakra began to form; the rotation was violent, erratic—. It's called Rasengan; that man designed it to protect... but I'll teach you to use it to claim what belongs to you.
Naruto watched the sphere with fascination. He felt the pressure of the air spinning at incredible speed.
—Why didn't Kakashi-sensei teach me this? —Naruto asked bitterly.
—Because Kakashi prefers to teach "geniuses" —the masked man replied, closing his hand to dispel the sphere—. He doesn't believe you can handle this level of control. He only sees in you the problem child, not the man who could bring this village to its knees.
The man approached, extending a finger toward Naruto's stomach, right where the seal resided.
—To master it, you must stop fighting against what you carry inside. That heat... that fury you feel when they ignore you or kick you in the streets... that's your true power. Let it flow; don't seek the chakra the academy taught you; seek the one that burns.
Naruto closed his eyes, trying to obey. For the first time, instead of trying to lock the fox in the depths of his mind, he reached his hand toward that reddish abyss. Under the stranger's voice direction, the beast's chakra began to seep, dense and heavy, into the palm of his hand.
—That's it, Naruto... —the man whispered, watching as small sparks of dark chakra began to spin in the boy's hand, but they were tiny, unstable; too much practice was needed—. Forget the rules, forget loyalty, just focus on the power they denied you.
Hours turned into days, days into weeks; Naruto always went to train with that mysterious man and completely ignored Ebisu-sensei's calls. That unknown masked man seemed to know the true power a ninja could execute; Naruto was eager to learn, believing that this way he could be seen by his teammates, by the village, by everyone. It didn't matter if the price was long sessions with his body trembling, feeling like he was running out of oxygen.
It was a regular training day; they were in the forest; Naruto was on his knees, panting, with the palms of his hands burned by the friction of unstable chakra.
In front of him, the masked man remained impassive, with his arms crossed.
—Your control is pathetic because you try to dominate it with fear —said the distorted voice—. The beast's chakra is not an enemy; it's fuel. Stop trying to "filter" it and allow it to saturate your channels. If it hurts, use it to rotate the sphere with more force.
Naruto clenched his teeth, feeling the corrosive heat of the fox bubbling under his skin. It wasn't the warm glow others would see; it was a dense, reddish aura charged with a murderous intent that made the dry leaves around him disintegrate.
—It's... it's hard! —Naruto growled, managing to form a sphere that vibrated with a deep, dark hum in his right hand—. It feels like it's going to explode.
—Then make sure it explodes against someone else, not against you —the masked man replied coldly.
From the folds of his cloak, Obito extracted a huge scroll, sealed with red wax and high-level security marks. Naruto immediately recognized the leaf emblem; his eyes widened in surprise.
—That's... the Scroll of Seals —Naruto whispered, stepping back—. How did you get it? The forbidden archive's security is...
—Non-existent for someone who knows how to walk in the shadows —the older man interrupted, throwing the scroll at his feet with contempt—. Open it; you have little time. I must return it before the mediocres in the intelligence unit notice the gap on the shelf. You wouldn't want the Third Hokage to send his dogs after you before you're ready. It's only a forbidden archive because they don't want everyone to have too much power; it doesn't mean it's dangerous.
Naruto unrolled it with trembling hands; his eyes jumped over the forbidden texts until they stopped at a specific technique: Tajū Kage Bunshin no Jutsu.
—You only know how to create one clone, and it's a pathetic copy that barely holds —the masked man added, walking around him like a predator—. With your chakra reserves and his help, you could create an army, but the village forbids it because they fear what a despised child could do with a thousand bodies at his disposal.
Naruto read the instructions, the complexity of the hand seal and the energy distribution. Under the man's pressure and the adrenaline of the theft, his mind worked at a speed he never showed at the academy.
—Do it —the man ordered—. Visualize the Ichiraku woman's contempt, the villager's blow in the street, Kakashi's back moving away with Sasuke... Turn all that into an order for your chakra.
Naruto performed the cross seal with renewed fury.
—Tajū Kage Bunshin no Jutsu! —he shouted.
The forest exploded in clouds of white smoke. Not two or three copies appeared; hundreds of Narutos filled the clearing, all with eyes lit in an electric blue bordering on orange; the power was overwhelming.
The man observed the result from a high branch.
—Good, very good. Now, use each of those clones to practice the Rasengan. If one fails, the next perfects it. In a month, you'll have surpassed years of conventional training.
Naruto looked at his army of copies. For the first time in his life, he didn't feel alone; he felt dangerous.
—When we're done —said the blond, looking toward the direction where he suspected the village hospital was—, Sasuke will see that he's not the only "genius" on this team.
The man knew, with certainty, that that power was minuscule compared to the blond's true capacity; however, patience was a virtue after all. It wasn't yet time to show him his potential.
[. . .]
The night before the finals, the air in the forest felt dense, heavy with oppressive humidity. The blue-eyed boy stood, his palms raw and his breathing erratic. In front of him, hundreds of clones vanished into clouds of smoke, leaving behind an echo of mental fatigue that hit him like a mallet. His body barely responded; he felt every muscle ache, he felt like he was fading; the only reason that didn't scare him was because that had been happening every day, in every training session of the last month. It was as if his body still hadn't gotten used to the pain, but his mind — in some strange way — had simply accepted it.
—It's over —said the voice from the void.
The masked man emerged from the spatial distortion, his red cloud cloak waving like dried blood. He didn't approach; he kept a distance that underscored his detachment.
—You have the technique now, you have the flow; it's not completely polished but it will serve you. Now you only lack the hardest part: the will to stop being a victim —the masked man decreed—. As of tomorrow, you're on your own; I won't guide your hand again.
Naruto clenched his fists, feeling a sudden emptiness in his stomach. The masked man was the only one who had dedicated time to him, the only one who didn't look at him with pity.
—Why now? —Naruto asked, his voice breaking—. Tomorrow is the final... Sasuke has Kakashi, they...
—They have a lie to protect —Obito interrupted coldly—. You have a truth to discover. Don't look for me, Naruto. If you survive what's coming, look for the council archives; open your eyes once and for all. If you decide to keep being the lapdog of those who hate you, then die in the arena like a common ninja.
The distortion swallowed him completely. Naruto was left alone in the darkness, with the hum of the unstable Rasengan still echoing in his ears and a corrosive doubt burning in his chest. He swallowed and returned to his apartment, anxious for the awaited day.
The next day, Orochimaru's invasion turned the exam festivities into a slaughter. Deep in the forest, far from the village walls, the air stank of sand and blood.
Sasuke was on his knees, his left arm trembling violently. The Chidori had exhausted his reserves, and the curse mark on his neck throbbed with a purple fire that threatened to devour his sanity. In front of him, Gaara was no longer a child; he was a grotesque mass of sand and hatred, a limb of Shukaku that crushed trees as if they were dry branches.
Sakura lay trapped against a trunk by sand claws, unconscious. Sasuke looked at her for a second. He felt no love, not even the admiration she sought; he only felt the burden of a comrade who couldn't defend herself. His duty as an Uchiha was not to let her die, not for her, but for his own wounded pride.
—It's useless! —Gaara roared, his voice distorted by the beast—. You're like them! You live for others, you die for others! Only hatred towards oneself gives true power!
Gaara raised a massive claw to crush a defenseless Sasuke. But before the blow could descend, an explosion of white smoke filled the clearing.
—Tajū Kage Bunshin no Jutsu!
Hundreds of Narutos appeared out of nowhere, covering the treetops and the ground, but they weren't shouting jokes or making faces. They were serious, with a icy look that Sasuke had never seen.
Sasuke watched, his eyes wide open with the Sharingan, as Naruto charged towards the monster. It wasn't the academy Naruto; his movements were precise, brutal. The clones didn't launch themselves randomly; they sacrificed themselves to create openings, moving with a coordination Kakashi never taught them.
—You...! —Gaara hissed, firing sand blasts—. You're just like me! You're completely alone!
Naruto landed in front of Gaara. In his right hand, a sphere of dark and erratic chakra began to spin; the sound wasn't the chirping of a thousand birds like Chidori, but a dull roar, an implosion of air that seemed to suck in the sunlight.
—You're right, Gaara —Naruto whispered, and for the first time, his voice sounded like a stranger's—. But my village is different from yours; yours hates you to your face. Mine... mine smiles at me while waiting for the moment I die.
Gaara stopped his attack for a second, confused by the coldness in the blond's words.
—Your village is rotten, Uzumaki —said Gaara, sand flowing around him—. They use you as a tool and call you "hero" only when they need you to die for them. Why do you protect them? Look at them! They're hiding while you bleed!
Naruto's dark crimson rasengan impacted Gaara's absolute defense; the sand didn't just scatter; it calcined. The impact launched the redhead against a rock formation, undoing part of Shukaku's transformation.
Sasuke, from the ground, watched the scene with toxic envy. Naruto was dominating a jinchuriki with a technique he didn't know, with a power Kakashi had denied him, but what surprised him most wasn't the power, but Naruto's gaze.
Naruto didn't look at Gaara with victory. He looked towards the direction of the Hokage's office, where the smoke from the battle with Orochimaru rose on the horizon.
—The whole village is built on graves that have no name —Gaara continued, coughing blood as he regained his human form—. If you win today, you'll have only saved your own jailers.
Naruto didn't respond. He just stood there, under the rain of leaves and ashes, while his clones vanished one by one. Sasuke struggled to his feet, approaching Naruto.
—Where did you learn that? —Sasuke asked, his voice charged with dark suspicion—. That's not academy chakra, that's not Kakashi's style.
The blond turned his head; his blue eyes had an orange flash that didn't disappear.
—Kakashi was busy teaching you, Sasuke. —Naruto walked towards the forest exit, ignoring the unconscious Sakura—. I found someone who taught me to see reality.
Sasuke stood motionless, watching his teammate's back. The seed Orochimaru had planted in his neck began to burn, again. He fell to his knees on the ground; Naruto joined him. The training had been fruitful, but that didn't take away from the fact that he still wasn't a fully experienced ninja; fatigue clouded his senses.
Before collapsing, Naruto wondered if all his effort would ever be enough.
[. . .]
The chaos of Orochimaru's invasion still kept most of the jounin busy at the borders and at the hospital, leaving the administration hallways immersed in deathly silence. Undoubtedly the village had been affected; some families had lost their homes to the destruction.
However, that didn't matter to the Uzumaki.
He needed to know; doubt was eating away at his mind; he longed to discover the truth. Somehow everything pointed to him having been vilely deceived; the blond hoped it wasn't so, that the masked man, that Orochimaru, and that Gaara were completely wrong. He hoped his village, even if minimally, loved him.
That's why he was there, sneaking into the Hokage Tower.
Naruto moved like a shadow, for he was no longer the noisy child who tripped over his own feet; Obito's training had taught him to suppress his presence, to blend with the darkness that now felt like home. Upon reaching the Third's office, he forced the lock of the confidential archives with icy precision.
His trembling fingers ran over the spines of dusty folders until they stopped at a red seal; somehow, he felt drawn to that object, as if by magnetism. Naruto fully trusted his intuition.
With his heart hammering against his ribs, Naruto opened the file. His blue eyes scanned the lines of official calligraphy, searching for the lie, but finding a much more painful truth.
"Subject: Naruto Uzumaki. Progenitors: Kushina Uzumaki and Minato Namikaze, the Fourth Hokage."
The air escaped his lungs; the world seemed to stop.
—Minato...? The Fourth? —he whispered, his voice barely a thread of broken air.
He kept reading, his eyes filling with tears that blurred the paper. The report detailed the attack twelve years ago. It hadn't been an accident; it hadn't been a desperate last option of a hero. Minato Namikaze had designed the seal and had chosen his own newborn son to carry the demon that had destroyed the village, condemning him to a life of solitude and contempt before he could even open his eyes.
—You chose me... —Naruto sobbed, falling to his knees, the paper crumpling between his fingers—. You used me as a damn cage... Dad... why did you do this to me?
Naruto's crying was muffled, a gasp of pure agony. He felt betrayed by his own blood. The man the entire village worshipped as a savior was, for him, the architect of his personal hell. They had sold him as a hero, but they had treated him like trash, and it had all been the plan of his own father.
He tried to continue reading, as if that were just the tip of the iceberg.
—If the subject exhibits behaviors or signs of having a dangerous or aggressive character, people from other villages will be immediately summoned to replace the tailed beast container; it is crucial that after the extraction, the subject be executed at all costs, thus avoiding any attempt at revenge on his part —Naruto read every damn word as if it were the last thing his soul needed to completely break.
If he didn't behave appropriately, he would simply be discarded. The blond shed endless tears, trying to believe it was all a vile deception, but it wasn't; the real deception had been believing he had been accepted.
But what about the Third?
Did he know?
He hoped the reason that order never materialized was because the Hokage intervened; even so, his entire world had been shattered.
Suddenly, the creak of wood in the hallway put him on alert. The blue-eyed boy wiped his tears abruptly, turning with a kunai in his hand and his eyes lit with an erratic orange glow.
In the doorway, a thin, familiar silhouette was outlined against the hallway light.
—Naruto? —Sasuke's voice was low, charged with unusual confusion.
The Uchiha entered the room, his black eyes scanning the mess of papers and the broken figure of his teammate. The masked man had visited him in the hospital that afternoon, whispering poisonous words about the "true story" of the Uchiha and sending him here, to the bowels of the tower.
Sasuke stopped a few steps away, observing Naruto's face. The blond had red eyes, an empty gaze, as if something inside him had been irreversibly broken.
That light in his eyes had gone out definitively.
—What are you doing here? —Sasuke asked, looking down at the file Naruto still held—. Why the hell are you crying?
So all this time I was just the cage? And the old man looked me in the eyes and told me he believed in me... knowing that?
—L-leave me alone... What are you doing here? —the blue-eyed boy barely managed to say, in a low voice.
—The masked one... —Sasuke whispered, clenching his fists—. He told me to come; he said the massacre of my clan wasn't just Itachi's doing, and he said the council archives had the answer.
Naruto moved aside, pointing to the metal boxes behind the main desk; they seemed to be the most important because they were marked with the council of elders' seal and Danzo Shimura's signature. He didn't do it because he wanted to help Sasuke at that moment, or maybe he did; the reality was that his mind was still processing all the deception he had received since birth.
He had never asked for any of this.
He hadn't even asked to be born.
So... why did he somehow always end up suffering?
Sasuke approached the file cabinets with a mechanical slowness, as if his feet weighed tons. Naruto, sitting on the floor with the Fourth Hokage's file still in his lap, watched him with an empty gaze. The silence in the Hokage's office was so dense that the sound of the metal drawer opening rang out like a gunshot.
His pale, trembling fingers passed over several folders until stopping at one that had no name, only a numerical code and the black wax seal of Konoha's Root.
Upon opening it, the first page showed a photo of his father, Fugaku Uchiha, marked with a red stamp: "ELIMINATED."
The black-haired boy felt his stomach lurch; something was definitely wrong. His eyes scanned the documents, the orders signed by Danzo Shimura, and the surveillance reports from the council of elders. The words began to leap off the paper like daggers: "Uchiha Insurrection," "Imminent Coup d'État," "Total Neutralization Required."
—No... —Sasuke whispered, shaking his head—. Itachi did it because... because he wanted to measure his strength; he told me... he showed me...
However, the next page was a classified mission report, written in the handwriting of a high-ranking officer. It detailed a secret meeting between Itachi Uchiha and the Council.
"Agent Itachi Uchiha accepts the execution of the clan massacre to avoid a civil war that would destroy the nation. Sole and non-negotiable condition: the life and absolute protection of Sasuke Uchiha under the guardianship of the Third Hokage."
Sasuke let out the air in a rush, as if he'd been hit in the solar plexus — like that night, when he lost everything — the paper crinkled and crumpled in his hands.
—It's not true, none of this is true.
Human desperation was always fertile ground for self-deception, right?
—A deal? —his voice broke in a sharp, desperate tone—. My brother... killed Mom? Killed Dad... on orders from these elders?
He kept reading, frenetic. He found a marginal note from Homura and Koharu, the Hokage's advisors, suggesting that once Itachi left the village, Sasuke was no longer a real priority and his surveillance was an unnecessary waste of resources.
Sasuke's world fragmented. The memories of that bloody night returned in a violent whirlwind: Itachi's face crying in the shadows — which he believed was merely an illusion of his mind — the farewell words, the pain of being the sole survivor. It had all been a farce orchestrated by the same men who had patted him on the shoulder and told him how sorry they were.
—Damn them! DAMN THEM ALL! —Sasuke screamed, falling to his knees.
He brought his hands to his head, pulling his hair violently. His black eyes mutated; the Sharingan spun frantically until the blades seemed to bleed. Hatred wasn't a flame; it was a black ocean drowning him. He relived the moment he saw his parents die, but now he didn't see Itachi's sword; he saw the hands of Konoha's elders pushing the weapon.
Naruto, seeing him collapse like that, crawled towards him. The blond, although immersed in his own hell, couldn't watch his teammate tear himself apart like that.
—Sasuke... Sasuke, wait —Naruto said, placing a hand on his shoulder—. We have to get out of here... Breathe...
But when Sasuke looked up, Naruto instinctively stepped back.
Sasuke's gaze was no longer human. It was a window into an abyss of pure hatred, so dense it seemed physical. His red eyes shone with malignant intensity, and the tears running down his cheeks were of a fury that burned.
—Calm down? —Sasuke's voice sounded like metal scraping metal, as if his very soul were broken—. Naruto... they used him; they used his love for me to force him to kill his own blood. They turned him into a monster... and they left me to live like an animal in a zoo, under the gaze of my clan's murderers.
The black-haired boy stood up; his aura was icy, charged with a murderous intent that made the office lights flicker. He looked towards the window, at the village sleeping peacefully under the moonlight, ignoring the lives they had destroyed to maintain their "peace."
—I-I hate this place —Sasuke declared, and each word dragged a weight—. I hate the people walking those streets without knowing they tread on my family's blood; I hate the Council; I hate Kakashi; and I hate every corner of this rotten village.
The blond stood beside him, pressing his father's file against his chest. The bond with the village was completely broken; there was no turning back. There was no possible forgiveness for a betrayal of such magnitude.
Sasuke turned his face toward Naruto. At that moment, in the office of the man who had betrayed them both, by omission or by action, the last two "sons" of Konoha ceased to belong to it.
Because sometimes, the flame, the spark, the Will of Fire, could simply go out.
The Uchiha said nothing more; he quickly put the files back in place and ran out, trying to maintain stealth amidst the tidal wave that were his feelings at that moment. Naruto wasn't far behind but lost track of Sasuke, not knowing where he had gone.
Sasuke returned to the desolate district; his hands trembled with barely contained rage; he screamed in his room; he writhed on the floor from all the suffering that had been accumulating since his brother ended a part of his soul by murdering his family, his clan.
He knew it; there was no turning back, so he made a decision.
He would leave; he needed to be stronger. His vengeance, his hatred, was no longer purely towards Itachi; it was towards the village itself. There he could never be strong enough for revenge; he had a curse mark; he planned to join that Orochimaru if it meant more power, a greater opportunity for vindication.
He packed a light bag and placed it on his back; before leaving his home, he placed his palm one last time on one of the walls, saying goodbye forever.
He headed towards Konoha's border. If this meant becoming a damn deserter, he no longer cared. Absolutely everything had lost meaning for Sasuke, in a totally irrevocable way.
When he reached the border, he managed to place some guards under a genjutsu, knocking them unconscious. He had no intention of drawing attention; it was the least he wanted, or his plans would be discarded.
Sasuke took the first step outside the entrance arch, feeling how the air changed; it was no longer Konoha's stale air; it was the cold air of uncertainty. But before he could venture into the undergrowth, a presence behind him forced him to stop.
He turned with his sharingan active, his eyes bloodshot and the blades spinning with fury.
—Don't try it, Naruto —the Uchiha hissed; his voice was a clear warning—. If you get in my way, I swear I won't stop. Don't talk to me again about the village, or bonds, or...
—I don't plan to stop you, idiot —Naruto interrupted, emerging from the shadows with an old backpack on his shoulder.
Sasuke stood still; his eyebrows furrowed in a mix of surprise and suspicion. Naruto walked until he was beside him, looking towards the forest with a coldness that rivaled the Uchiha's.
—You're leaving? —Sasuke asked, incredulous—. You? The one who shouted to the four winds that he wanted to be Hokage?
The blond let out a bitter laugh, one that had no trace of his former energy.
—Hokage of what, Sasuke? Of a bunch of murderers and liars? Of the people who used me as a cage? —Naruto tightened his backpack straps—. I have nothing to protect in there. If you're going to seek power, I'm not going to stay and wait for them to replace me.
—I'm going to find Orochimaru —Sasuke declared, resuming his path—. He gave me this mark; he knows what real hatred is.
—Orochimaru is only looking for a young vessel to keep his own soul from rotting —a deep, distorted voice emerged from nowhere, freezing their blood.
Both jumped back, assuming guard positions. From a whirlpool in space, as if reality itself were tearing, the masked man emerged; his black cloak seemed to shine under the moonlight.
—Well, well, finally you've opened your eyes —the man said; his single visible eye observed them with predatory satisfaction—. It's a shame, Sasuke. If you go to the serpent, you'll end up being a toy in his hands. He doesn't want your revenge; he wants your body for his stupid immortality.
Sasuke clenched his teeth; the pain of the curse mark throbbed strongly.
—He promised me power.
—I can give you much more than that —the voice replied, walking towards them with absolute calm—. Orochimaru is a deserter with delusions of grandeur; I am the architect of a new world. I know who you really are; I know what they did to you; and I know how to make Konoha burn to the ground.
Naruto and Sasuke looked at each other for a brief instant; there was no trace of childish rivalry left, only a dark, shared understanding. They were two orphans of a system that had betrayed them since before they were born.
—W-why us? —the blue-eyed boy asked in a still hesitant tone.
—Because the world needs to see what happens when the tools they discarded return to claim their share —the man replied, extending both hands—. Come with me; I'll teach you to polish that sharingan —referring to Sasuke—, to polish that chakra —looking at Naruto this time—, until no one can hold your gaze. Together, you'll make the council, the elders, and every inhabitant of that village feel the emptiness you feel now.
The Uchiha looked back, at the distant lights of the village that was no longer his home; then he looked at Naruto; the hatred in his eyes was an uncontainable fire.
—I accept —Sasuke said; his voice devoid of all doubt.
—I-I accept too —Naruto seconded; his blue eyes began to shine with a malignant orange light.
The masked man let out a dull laugh, one that foretold the end of an era.
—Then leave behind your names; leave behind your pity. From today, Konoha will only know your shadow.
The three vanished into the space-time whirlpool, leaving behind only the silence of the border and the echo of a will that was no longer of fire, but of ash.
Obito remembered another child who once believed in the village, another child who lost everything: himself.
"Welcome to hell, boys. Here at least you're not alone."