Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Who am I?”

Naruto muttered aloud, scratching his head. “How do I even answer that?”

The genin had been stuck in the waiting room of the hokages tower for over two hours, summoned for an "urgent" meeting that felt anything but that. To pass the time, Sakura had convinced Naruto, Sasuke, and a few others to take part in her homemade written compatibility quiz. After much nagging, Naruto had agreed, though he’d dozed off more than once, and Sasuke hadn’t gotten past the second question, obviously not interested in the slightest

"Just write some good stuff about yourself," Shikamaru said lazily, not even looking up from his paper. He was already halfway done with his test, his nonchalance aggravating Naruto even more.

Good things? Naruto’s mind blanked. What good things did he have? He wasn’t like Sakura, who was smart and skilled with chakra control. He definitely wasn’t like Sasuke, the genius who was naturally talented at everything. Naruto was the loudmouth, the prankster, the screw-up. 

He sighed, lowering his gaze to the cracked cement floor. Even now, after all his training, he felt like dead weight to his team. He worked just as hard as Sasuke, sometimes even harder, but the results never showed. Sasuke got praise, admiration, and respect without even trying, while Naruto was lucky if he didn’t get glared at walking down the street. The bitter comparison ate at him, twisting his insides with frustration.

Naruto was a pro though. He had mastered concealing his self-doubt with stupid confidence long ago. Although it seems a little much, it was his unique way of surviving. This harsh world doesn't conform to the wishes of others, especially his. If he publicly doubted himself or showed any sign of weakness, the world would swallow him whole.

He knows that his team would be better off without him. Would he ever admit it? No way. 

"I'm done!" Ino announced, breaking his thoughts. She beamed, holding up her paper. "I got a 34, which means i'm a bunny that's compatible with a snake!" She giggled, casting a glance at Sasuke. "What did you get, Sasuke?" 

Sasuke looked up at the blonde girl. Annoyance written all over his face. He really couldn’t care less for anyone in this room.

"Don't know. Haven't finished yet." Sasuke stated coldly. Snapping out of his daze Naruto chuckled softly, rushing through the rest of the questions. "I’ll finish before you," he declared, his competitive side surfacing. Any chance to beat Sasuke was an opportunity he couldn’t pass up. He might not win in a fight yet, but a simple quiz, he's got this.

"I'm going to finish before you." Naruto exclaimed with a smug expression. 

Naruto had always liked the idea of beating Sasuke. It was satisfying. Sasuke was always such a praised child, even now he was given automatic respect just for his last name, while Naruto had spent years attempting to scrape up any respect the village still had for him, trying desperately to prove he wasn’t just a waste of space. Just for the result of his efforts to be cold shoulders and harsh glares.

It wasn't fair. Sasuke was recognized by the village. Naruto wasn't, and would never be. 

Slowly overtime Naruto decided to stop feeding the growing hatred he had for Sasuke, as it wouldn't take him anywhere. He tried hard to view him in a more positive light. It proved to be a challenge with no doubt, but eventually he started seeing the many different, softer sides the boy had. However, Naruto was still resentful towards the Uchiha.

Sasuke snorted, holding up his paper. “Too late. I’m on the last question.”

Naruto shot up, glaring at him. “No way! You were on the second question like five seconds ago!” His voice carried across the room, earning annoyed stares from the surrounding shinobi.

“Pipe down, Naruto,” Shikamaru muttered, leaning back in his chair. “You’re being too loud.”

The blonde looked around, finally noticing the many chunin and jonin shooting him harsh glares. He flushed red, sitting back down, reflecting on his brash behavior. 

"Okay! I'm done!" Sakura grinned. "I got a cat that's compatible with a tiger!" She was about to open her mouth to say more, when Sasuke cut her off.

"I got a leopard that's compatible with a leopard." Sasuke stated reluctantly. Naruto stared back down at his paper, adding up the numbers, the total being 22. He glanced further down the page looking for the animal next to his number.

"No way." He blurted. Staring wide-eyed at the bold leopard etched into his paper. "You copied me!" Naruto yelled.

Fits of laughter filled the room.

"Hahaha! Naruto and Sasuke are meant to be!" Kiba said between laughs, slapping his hand on his thigh. Naruto stood, preparing to protest, when the doors to the Hokage's office were slammed open.

“Who doesn't love a good enemies to lovers?” Choji chuckled, failing to notice the open doors behind him. He opened his mouth to say more, getting cut off by a giant fist hurtling straight for his face. Sakura’s menacing aura after throwing that terrifying blow was enough to shut everyone up. 

An angry Shizune appeared in the doorway, hand on her hip, obviously annoyed by the ruckus that had just taken place.

"You may enter now." Shizune announced with a strained smile, her voice sharp with hidden frustration.

The group of young teenagers started migrating inside of the office, feeling the uneasy shift in energy. Even an idiot could tell that it was a serious matter. Lady Tsunade sat behind her desk, exhaustion clear in her eyes as she rubbed her temples. Once the old door had shut, Lady Tsunade began laying out papers and folders. Her hand, drawing circles on her forehead, revealing to everyone this was going to be an intense mission.

She didn’t waste time with pleasantries. 

"There has been a series of murders in our area. Horrible ones. You have been carefully chosen to help out on this mission. We already have a list of suspects, But the list is far too long. Each team has been assigned targets and we need each of you to be on the lookout for anything suspicious. You will all be given a file with all the information you need. This is a B ranked mission, So I expect you all to take this very seriously." She concluded, leaning back in her chair. The room fell into an uneasy silence. Naruto shifted uncomfortably. Murder investigations? This wasn’t the kind of action he had imagined.

"Ugh, this is so stupid." Naruto grumbled. Earning the Hokage's attention, he continued. "Basically we're just gonna sit around all day stalking people? Where’s all the action!?" He complained. The whole group stared at Naruto in awe. The audacity this boy had was unimaginable. They had all been trusted enough to be a part of something as serious as a B ranked mission. And Naruto was complaining?

"Would you like to lead the investigation yourself then, Naruto?" Lady Tsunade hissed. Veins popping through her forehead.

"Well I could probably do it better than you old farts." Naruto commented, crossing his arms. Lady Tsunade rolled her eyes, too exhausted to keep up with the blonde's antics.

“You’re dismissed.” She stated, opening a new bottle of Alcohol. Just before the large group made it outside of the office, Shikamaru opened his mouth.

"Grumpy much, you sleeping alright?" Shikamaru questioned. Directing his question at Naruto.

"Actually, it feels like I haven't slept in ages." Naruto revealed, letting out an over exaggerated yawn. Surprisingly, he wasn’t lying. He really hadn’t gotten any sleep recently. The blonde had been waking up in the middle of the night for weeks straight now. He’d been stuck alone with his thoughts far too many times, the only successful solution being sleep, but he rarely got any of that anymore.

"Aw, might I need Kakashi to come read you a bedtime story?" Shizune intervened. She had obviously overheard Shikamaru and Naruto’s small conversation. 

Kakashi, not missing a beat, looked up from his book. "I think I could fit that in my schedule. Would you like me to bring a blanket and some warm milk as well?" Kakashi proposed, tilting his head.

Naruto stepped back in awe. "I'm not some goddamn baby!" He yelled, embarrassed by this whole conversation.

"Could’ve fooled me," Kakashi muttered, turning another page in his book. Their slightly heated argument continued, while Lady Tsunade grew more and more irritated with the two ninjas.

"Oh for god's sake get out of my office!" Lady Tsunade interrupted. She had work to do, cases to solve, and alcohol to drink. 

"You can't tell me what to do." Naruto mumbled, turning around.

"Excuse me?" Lady Tsunade seethed. Chakra slowly moved to her fists.

"I said you can't tell me what to do you old hag!!" The boy screeched at her. He had more he wanted to say but was quickly dragged outside by Shizune and Kakashi.

"YOU-"

Sakura quickly slammed the door shut, preventing any further embarrassment and injury.

"Naruto, look at what you did!" Sakura scolded, stomping her foot. Naruto sighed, he had become well accustomed to sitting through Sakura's earfuls. The blonde learned to let all of it go in one ear and out the other. However, Kakashi who also wasn't in the mood to deal with an angry Sakura, decided to quickly avert the topic before the girl gets to the reasons Naruto should get kicked off the team.

"Why don't we all get some ramen? My treat." Kakashi offered, flipping another page in his book. This book was finally getting interesting, it had taken 17 chapters just for the first kiss but the Hatake definitely didn’t expect that kiss to turn into-

"Yeah! Let's do that!" Naruto shouted, pumping his fist's in the air. "Race ya there!" The boy yelled, getting into his running stance.

"Now, now Naruto before you go we have to talk about our plan for the upcoming mission." Kakashi said, picking him up by the back of Naruto’s jumpsuit. The copy ninja scrunched his eyebrows, silently noting that he had less of a challenge picking the blonde up than he did before. It was hard to tell from the baggy bright orange jumpsuit he practically bathes in everyday, but he definitely was lighter, that being a result of his training or..something else.. He hoped things all along those lines hadn’t gotten to any of his students yet. Especially Naruto. He was the beam of light for their team. The lovable knucklehead. But then again, the world is a cruel and harsh place. And no one knew that better than Kakashi Hatake himself.

"Ughhh" Naruto groaned. "Can we talk about all this at the ramen place, I haven't even eaten breakfast yet!" Kakashi sighed, letting go of the blonde.

"For once, I agree with Naruto, the power of youth cannot grow without the proper nutrition!!" Rock Lee stated, shoving his fist in the air.

“Ramen isn’t even healthy, Lee.” Tenten chuckled.

The run-down ramen shop slowly started to appear in the distance. It had always been such a relief for Naruto, every time the ramen shop came into view. It was his only true home. He felt truly respected and listened to each time he was welcomed into the shop. The closer they got, the stronger the scent of freshly made noodles and seasonings filled the afternoon air, it was such a nostalgic smell for Naruto, one he could never forget. The large group slowly approached the building making sure everyone was all together, once the jounin confirmed everyone was accounted for they walked in.

"Welcome!" Ayame greeted, a warm smile painting her tanned face. She motioned for them to take a seat. Moments after, Teuchi made a sudden appearance.

"Ah Naruto! How've you been, my boy?" Teuchi questioned, smiling. A warm feeling attacked Naruto’s heart. Every time he sat down at this restaurant he felt prioritized and worth something.

"I've been good! These missions are super boring though." Naruto complained with a slight smile, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I'm guessing your usual?" Ayama questioned with a wink. 

"You guessed it." Naruto chuckled, giving a thumbs up. The two continued on, asking everyone for their orders while Kakashi began laying out papers.

"Team 7 has been assigned file A, Team 8 has been assigned file B, Team 10 has been assigned file C, and finally Team Guy has been assigned file D." Kakashi stated, passing the files out to each team. Sakura divided the papers and handed them out to Sasuke and Naruto. 

"Hey! Why did Sasuke get more papers than me?" Naruto asked, annoyed at the obvious favoritism. 

"Would you just shut up and read?" Sasuke intervened, his eyebrow twitching in annoyance.

"You wanna say that again?!" Naruto growled, standing up.

"Naruto, sit down and finish reading. Or would you like to pay for your ramen?" Kakashi questioned, crossing his arms.

Reluctantly Naruto sat back down, eyes studying the folder. He was hesitant to open it, as the shocked expressions from his teammates added even more of a reason not to. Things like this never sat right with him. Meaningless murder, ending someone's life as if it meant nothing. Failing to see the value of a human life. Naruto saw life as a precious thing, even if he barely valued his own. It was something to be nurtured, not thrown away. Yes, he’s a hypocrite and aware of it.

"Oh my god, look at this guy, doesn't he just look like a murderer?" Ino giggled, pointing at the paper. 

Grabbing the paper from Ino's hands, Sakura agreed. "You're so right! His nose is so hideous I know he’s the murderer!" 

"Look at this guy!" Kiba interrupted, looking over at the two girls. Shoving his paper in their faces. They continued on as Naruto looked back down at his papers, glancing at the pictures that went along with the seemingly never ending paragraphs. His eyebrows scrunched. They all seemed pretty average to him. None of them had such a ‘distinguishing feature’ that could point to them being a murderer.

"Ahem, the suspects don't just consist of weird looking people, the murderer could be anyone, in fact it could even be one of us. You really never know." Kakashi intervened, silencing the groups. Hopefully they processed the impact of his words.

"It's you."

A smooth voice said in Naruto’s left ear. He shot up from his seat, startled by the loud voice.

"W-what're you talking about! It could never be me!" He exclaimed, looking around searching for the perpetrator, only to be greeted by confused faces.

"Nobody's pointing a finger at you, Naruto." Neji stated, rolling his eyes. 

"But someone just sai-"

"Naruto, I think your lack of sleep is really catching up to you." Shikamaru cut him off, causing the group to erupt in laughter. Successfully lifting the mood.

As their laughter faded Naruto continued to ponder what he heard. At least what he thought he heard? He understands that he can come off as annoying at times but most definitely not a suspect for murder. Naruto being a murderer, that's laughable. He would never bring himself to do such a thing.

"Here ya go, Naruto!" Ayame said cheerfully, placing the bowl of ramen in front of Naruto. The boy flashed a cheeky smile and picked up his chopsticks. He stared down at the bowl, eyeing the noodles and fish cake. The broth was almost a burgundy color, strangely reminding him of blood.

After only a few bites, a wave of nausea washed over him. He felt dizzy. The craving he once had for ramen had rapidly decreased. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, placing his chopsticks back down. This had been the fourth time this week he got nauseous eating something he considered to be his favorite.

"You good, Naruto?" Choji asked, mouthfuls of ramen occupying his mouth. His sudden comment caused the group to look towards the blonde boy. Naruto quickly threw his hands in the air, waving it off.

"I think my stomach's just upset from something I ate this morning." He chuckled awkwardly. Kakashi slightly tilted his head, uncovering the lie as Naruto just said earlier he hadn’t eaten this morning.

"What? Did you drink some bad milk again?" Sasuke teased with a smirk. Naruto shook his head, appalled at the memory.

"No I didn’t. But if my milk went bad I know yours would be ten times worse! Not to mention moldy and disgusting!!" Naruto argued proudly. The petty banter continued back and forth.

By the end of it the room was full of laughter. Smiles on everyone’s faces. Although Naruto’s stomach still hurt he smiled to himself. Looking at the people he had somehow managed to grow close too. He’s aware they might not all be fond of him, but he's glad he's finally found people that will fight besides him, and somewhat tolerate him.

It took him so long to find, after years of loneliness it feels good to finally be laughing and surrounded by friends.

I wish it could always stay like this.

Chapter Text

As the evening sky transformed from a warm yellow-orange to a mesmerizing blend of purples and reds, the young ninjas began to trickle out of the old, run-down ramen shop. The few remaining ninjas had collectively decided to grab ice cream at a nearby shop, but Naruto, still shaken from earlier, politely declined their offer, opting to head home instead.

After exchanging farewells, he ambled down the familiar streets of the Leaf Village, a place that offered little comfort. The thought of returning to his apartment—a disheartening reminder of his persistent loneliness and absence of family—filled him with reluctance. As he wandered through the village, he absorbed his surroundings: the towering trees, the sunlight cascading over the deserted streets, and the cool breeze brushing against his tan skin, filling his lungs with crisp air. The sunset stroll stirred memories of the shops he passed daily, their scents a peculiar mix of spring flowers and antique rust, evoking feelings of nostalgia in every corner.

The blonde ninja continued his solitary stroll, appreciating the quiet, until the streets began to fill with a surge of people. Anxiety gnawed at his stomach as the once-empty roads buzzed with life. Large crowds had always overwhelmed him, and tonight was no different. Senses heightened, he attempted to weave through the people, but in his distraction, he collided with a tall man standing directly in his path.

“Hey, you little punk! Watch where you’re going!” The man slurred, his broad shoulders looming menacingly. The stench of alcohol hung thick around him. Naruto ignored the drunken insult and tried to sidestep, but the man blocked him again, a clear sign he wasn't about to let Naruto pass.

Frustration welled up inside him. Just when he had found the will to return to his empty apartment, the man’s presence made it feel impossible. Spotting an opening to the left, Naruto tried to slip away, but the man mirrored his movements, resulting in Naruto crashing into him yet again, this time face-first into the man's stomach.

“What do you think you’re doing? Trying to be clever, brat?” the dark-haired man growled, his brows knitting together.

“Just trying to get home,” Naruto replied, annoyance creeping into his voice.

“No. I’ve got something to say.” The man hiccupped, swaying slightly. “My granddaddy was killed in that demon attack, and we all know you had something to do with it.”

Naruto’s heart sank. He recognized the direction this conversation was heading, but he was no longer a defenseless child; he was determined to stand his ground.

“Well, I assure you I had nothing—”

Smack.

‘What the—?’

Before he could react, Naruto found himself on the ground, the shock of the slap ringing in his ears. How had the man struck him so swiftly? Pain radiated through his body as he realized the man was now kicking him repeatedly, hurling curses with each blow. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Why wasn’t he fighting back? The humiliation washed over him like a cold wave, and he couldn’t believe he was crying out in pain in the middle of the street.

“You stupid piece of shit,” the man spat, staggering away, swaying as he went.

As Naruto slowly lifted his head, he noticed a small crowd had gathered around him, with a certain dark-haired ninja watching from a distance. Fury surged through him at the sight of Sasuke’s face, twisted in pity—an expression that drove him mad. He stood up, legs shaky with shock, tears brimming in his eyes. His gut felt ablaze with humiliation and anger. Why hadn’t he defended himself?

Clutching his torso, nausea washed over him. He turned and pushed through the crowd, desperate to escape their stares. The journey back to his apartment felt like a nightmare; with every step, sharp pains shot through his body, each one a reminder of his weakness. It felt like an eternity before his small apartment came into view.

As soon as he stepped through the doorway, Naruto made a beeline for the bathroom, blue eyes locked on his reflection. His stupid, pathetic reflection. His tan, whiskered cheeks and spiky blonde hair—he despised it all. Every last bit of himself.

“Why am I still so weak?!”

He slammed his fist into the mirror, hard and fast, shattering the glass. He couldn’t bear to look at his pitiful reflection for another second. Broken shards littered the floor, but he didn’t care; he’d deal with it later.

“Why can’t I just be left alone?”

Tears spilled over, unstoppable and unrestrained. He welcomed the release, allowing himself to cry without a care in the world. His fists clenched tightly, drawing blood where his nails bit into his palms.

“Why is it always me?! Huh?!?” His voice rose, filled with anger and frustration. Was this truly how others saw him—a weak, pathetic waste of space?

“God! What did—what did I ever do to deserve this?!” The words choked in his throat. He stepped back from the mirror, leaning his weight against the wall as he sank to the floor. Sprawled out, he stared at the rusty old ceiling. The coldness of the floor offered a strange comfort he’d never admit.

He felt utterly drained, worse than before. Defeated. The last time something like this happened, he was six years old. Back then, the villagers had realized he could defend himself and stopped their harassment. He had grown older and stronger. He was a genin now, for crying out loud! So why did he just lie there and take it? Defeated, Naruto let his bloodied hands drop to the floor, his gaze drifting back up to the ceiling.

Why hadn’t he fought back? Why hadn’t he done anything? He thought he was ready for the day someone would raise a hand against him. He trained hard, believing he could handle it. But when the moment came, he froze—like a deer caught in headlights. Completely useless. He had worked so hard to prove he was different, that he had grown. And yet, he had failed, left feeling utterly worthless. A complete failure. He saw no reason to exist anymore, just to wallow in his self-pity on the floor.

Eventually, Naruto pushed himself up, contradicting his earlier thoughts. He turned to the remnants of the mirror, lifting his shirt to inspect the colorful bruises blooming on the left side of his torso. Wincing, he twisted to the right, feeling as if his ribs might be shattered. After a hasty assessment of his injuries, he decided a trip to the hospital wasn’t worth it and settled for a poorly bandaged torso.

He trudged to his bedroom, grabbing a broom to sweep the shards of glass into the corner of the bathroom. Once done, he returned the broom and peeled off his orange jumpsuit, carefully slipping into bed to avoid aggravating his injuries. Closing his eyes, his face stung from the dried tears, and his whole body ached while his head throbbed. All he longed for at that moment was a deep, peaceful sleep.

A blood-curdling scream echoed in his ears.

It was coming from behind him—or was it in front? Naruto jerked his head around, desperately trying to pinpoint the source of the sound, but was met with an impenetrable darkness. He continued to scan the area, searching for something—anything—but all that surrounded him was an endless void.

Silence fell, thick with tension, but he couldn’t quite grasp its nature. It felt strangely familiar. Attempting to move and investigate this unsettling place, he discovered he couldn’t; it was as if his feet were glued to the ground. Was there even a floor beneath him? He looked down, only to find the same suffocating darkness.

Another scream pierced the stillness.

This time, it was definitely coming from behind him. Panic began to rise within him. He had to stay calm; panicking in moments like this only led to failure and mistakes. He turned around again, bracing himself for whatever he might find—but he wasn’t prepared for this.

Blood. Everywhere.

A man lay in a pool of crimson, his legs flailing in a desperate attempt to push the shadowy figure off him. Naruto’s eyes widened in horror as he watched the scene unfold. His breath quickened, and his heart raced; he felt paralyzed, unable to move or speak. Helplessness washed over him, trapping him in place.

“He—help—” the man choked out, but the shadow silenced him with a punch to the face.

The man was going to die if Naruto just stood there. He tried to push down his fear and muster his courage. He had to remain calm. He had defeated Gaara, after all.

But what could he possibly do?

“STOP!” Naruto screamed.

The shadow plunged a knife into the man’s abdomen, blood gushing everywhere. Naruto’s pleas fell on deaf ears, and, to his horror, the figure seemed only spurred on by his cries.

“HEY! STOP! GET OFF HIM!” Naruto shouted, frantic.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t move. He was a mere spectator, trapped in this nightmare, watching a dying man cry for help while feeling utterly suffocated. It felt as if he were the one dying.

The shadow stabbed the man’s eye with a knife, dragging it downward, mutilating what remained of his face. The horrifying screams filled the void, forever etching the gruesome scene into Naruto’s mind.

With a wicked grin, the shadow wrapped its long, bony fingers around the man’s throat, squeezing tightly. The man’s face turned purple, mouth agape in a desperate gasp for air. Finally, his body went limp, his limbs falling to the ground.

That was it.

The killing blow.

The man lay motionless, completely lifeless. The shadow turned its head slowly, piercing red eyes locking onto Naruto’s.

“NO! He didn’t… he didn’t deserve to die!” Naruto shouted at the shadow.

Screech.

The shadow dug its nails into the lifeless man’s arms, dragging them down, carving deep gashes into his skin. It maintained unbroken eye contact with Naruto, as if issuing a silent threat. It felt like the shadow was staring into his very soul, sending waves of terror down Naruto’s spine.

“N-no one deserves to die,” Naruto stammered, voice trembling.

The shadow continued to gaze at him with an unsettling, unwavering intensity. It had no mouth, yet Naruto heard the words clearly in his mind.

“Then why is she dead?”

Chapter Text

Naruto jolted awake, gasping for breath, sweat dripping down his pale face. The soft echoes of screams still ringing faintly in the back of his mind. He knew it wasn’t real, but god that nightmare was so disturbingly vivid. His heart pounded against his chest, the horrifying image of the man’s lifeless body, his face drained of color, the desperate pleas for help, the jagged gashes on his arms, everything had been seared into his memory.

He threw his head back, trying to shake the lingering thoughts and hoping to catch a few more hours of sleep, when a loud knock came from his front door. Naruto sat up, grimacing as sharp pains shot through his abdomen. Who could be here at this hour? He stood, ignoring the discomfort, and made his way to the door. Another, even louder knock reverberated through the room.

"Alright, alright! I heard you the first time," Naruto grumbled as he opened the door, revealing none other than the genius chunin, Shikamaru.

Without so much as a greeting, Shikamaru pushed past him and stepped inside. “Get yourself ready,” he said, crossing his arms.

“Huh? Why?” Naruto asked, rubbing his eyes, his voice raspy and tired.

“This is such a pain. Just get changed, I'll tell you on the way.” Shikamaru replied. Naruto rolled his eyes, reluctantly walking back to his bedroom.

“This better be worth it!” Naruto yelled before shutting the door. Shikamaru groaned in response.

With Naruto gone, Shikamaru took a moment to survey the apartment. To his surprise, it wasn’t as messy as he had expected. Sure, there were a few discarded ramen cups and scrolls scattered here and there, but overall, it was decently tidy. As he glanced around, something caught his eye—the bathroom.

A broken mirror?

Shikamaru moved closer, noticing shards of glass poorly swept into a pile beneath the sink. It was strange, but he didn’t comment. Who knew what kind of issues Naruto dealt with outside of his ninja duties. Just then, the door to Naruto’s room swung open.

Naruto emerged, dressed in a black t-shirt and orange pants. It wasn’t his usual outfit, but it wasn’t remarkable enough to mention.

“Ready to go Naruto?” Shikamaru asked, walking towards the front of Naruto’s apartment. 

“I’m ready, but it would be really nice to know what you’re waking me up at 4:30 in the morning for.” Naruto stated, making a annoyed face whilst opening the front door.

“Lady Tsunade called an emergency meeting. I'm guessing it has something to do with the mission we were assigned yesterday, I'm not sure though.” Shikamaru replied, trailing behind Naruto.

As they walked, Shikamaru couldn’t help but glance at Naruto’s knuckles, which were dotted with small cuts, clearly from the broken glass he’d noticed earlier. Looking closer, he saw Naruto’s pale face, his eyes ringed with dark bags, and sweat beading on his brow. He looked awful. If Shikamaru didn’t know any better, he’d think Naruto was sick.

“Hey,” Shikamaru asked, gently touching Naruto’s shoulder. “Are you okay?  You look like hell.”

Naruto flinched slightly at the touch but quickly composed himself. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little tired.”

Shikamaru raised an eyebrow, unconvinced, but didn’t push the issue. They walked in silence, Naruto seemingly lost in his own thoughts. After what felt like an eternity, they finally arrived at the Hokage’s Tower, where Shizune greeted them with a weary smile. She ushered them to the waiting room, where the rest of their team was already gathered.

Before the two had time to sit down in the waiting room, Lady Tsunade opened the door to her office, waving them in. She was rubbing her forehead again. That wasn’t a good sign. 

“I know you guys must be curious as to why I called you all in here before the crack of dawn.” She continued, sitting back in her chair. ”The case I assigned you all yesterday. Another victim was found.” Lady Tsunade was briefly cut off by Shizune making her way towards the Hokage’s desk, she placed a stack of files on the desk explaining that these were the autopsy results of the victim in question.

Naruto grew curious. He wanted to know what had happened to this victim that made Lady Tsunade crazy enough to call a meeting at 4 in the goddamn morning. He walked up to her desk snatching one of the files.

“This better be one hell of a bad case, cause if it’s not i'm going back to sleep.” Naruto grumbled opening the file.

“It’s very graphic, Naruto, I'm warning you.” Lady Tsunade explained.

But nothing had prepared him for what he saw. Naruto’s eyes grew wide. He stared at the pictures in utter disbelief. 

These wounds. It had to be- No. It can’t be. It’s not possible. He clutched the paper, his hand trembling uncontrollably. He flipped through more pictures. Nononono.

It was him. 

Memories of his absolutely horrific dream came flooding back to him. The pictures on the file were so clear . The deep gashes on his forearm. His mutilated face. The many stab wounds littering his body. Naruto had watched it happen. With his two very own eyes.

It was…real?

He couldn’t do it.

Naruto’s breath caught in his throat, panic rising. Without warning, he bolted from the office, ignoring the shouts calling him back. He didn’t care; he just needed to find a bathroom. His stomach churned violently as he sprinted down the hall, finally spotting one near the faculty room. He barely made it to the stall before doubling over, choking as bile rose in his throat.

This couldn’t be real. How did this happen? How had the horror he witnessed in his nightmare come to life? His throat burned as another wave of nausea overcame him.

The bathroom door creaked open.

“Ew,” a familiar voice called out. Sasuke.

Naruto stiffened, hating the thought of Sasuke seeing him like this—vulnerable, weak. He heard the Uchiha approach, reaching for the stall door.

“Get out,” Naruto hissed, anger lacing his voice. The last thing he needed was Sasuke witnessing him in such a pitiful state.

“I’m just following orders,” Sasuke replied coolly, shrugging. He didn’t seem too eager to be there either. The door clicked shut as Sasuke left.

Naruto slumped forward, frustrated beyond belief. Why did it always have to be Sasuke? He was the one who always showed up, always saved the day, while Naruto was left feeling inadequate, his achievements overshadowed.

It was always their precious Sasuke. 

Sasuke. Sasuke. Sasuke. 

Another wave of nausea gripped him, and he braced himself for round two.

Naruto bolted from the room, clutching his stomach, the file he’d been holding dropping from his hands in dramatic fashion. Sasuke watched him go, curiosity flickering across his sharp features. Was it really that bad? Kakashi, along with a few others, called out after Naruto, but he didn’t respond.

“Sasuke, go check on him,” Kakashi ordered, turning toward the Uchiha. “That’s an order.”

Sasuke rolled his eyes, clearly irritated. Already in a sour mood, he spun on his heel and headed toward the nearest bathroom. He could admit that Naruto had been acting strange recently, more tired than usual, paler, he looked almost lifeless. And after what had happened yesterday, Sasuke knew something was definitely wrong.

Naruto had been beaten to a pulp.

It was shocking, really. Naruto hadn’t fought back; he’d just stood there and taken it. Sasuke couldn’t entirely blame him, the man’s attacks had been so fast, even he had struggled to track them with his Sharingan. Looking back, Sasuke knew he should have stepped in to help. The memory of Naruto’s hurt and betrayed gaze haunted him. That fleeting moment of eye contact before the fight ended had said everything.

Sasuke shook his head, pushing the thought away as he approached the bathroom. The soft sounds of vomiting echoed through the door, making him cringe. He hated the sound, hated the memories it dredged up. He grimaced as he opened the door, the pungent smell assaulting his nose.

“Ew.” he muttered, plugging his nose as he cautiously made his way toward Naruto’s stall. He prayed Naruto’s puking session was over. He reached out to push the stall door open when Naruto’s voice cut through the air.

“Get out.” Naruto hissed, his tone sharp and cold. Sasuke paused, surprised by the venom in his voice. He hadn’t expected Naruto to sound so... intimidating. Was he still angry about yesterday?

“I’m following orders, Naruto. But if you say so.” Sasuke shrugged, not particularly eager to stay in the foul smelling room anyway. He turned and left, relieved to be out of the bathroom.

As Sasuke made his way back toward the Hokage’s office, he noticed a small family huddled in a corner of the waiting room, their quiet sobs catching his attention. A woman, clutching a small child in her arms, was crying out to a group of shinobi.

“My husband... he didn’t deserve this! You have to find whoever did this!” she sobbed, her voice breaking as another child clung to her leg.

“Why do these things always happen to the best people?” an older chunin muttered, shaking his head.

Sasuke lingered for a moment, watching in curiosity. They must be the family of the latest victim.

“Ma’am, we’re doing everything we can to find who’s responsible,” a younger jonin assured her. “Your husband will be avenged. He was my comrade.”

The woman nodded, hugging her children tighter. The older child looked up at her mother with wide, innocent eyes.

“Mom, does that mean Dad’s not coming home?” she asked softly. Her mother remained silent, tears streaming down her face.

Feeling like he was intruding, Sasuke turned away and continued toward the Hokage’s office, his mood darkening even further.

When he slipped back inside the office, he made barely a sound, but the moment his presence was noticed, all eyes turned to him, silently asking the same question: Is Naruto alright?

Lady Tsunade paused mid-sentence, noticing Sasuke. “Sasuke, how’s Naruto?” she asked, concern heavy in her voice.

“He’s fine. Just some stomach issues,” Sasuke replied, falling in line with the rest of the group. “What’d I miss?”

Shizune handed him a tan file as Lady Tsunade resumed speaking. “A man was murdered early this morning. His body was found around 1 a.m., and the marks on him matched those we’ve seen on the other victims.”

She took a deep breath before continuing. “The cause of death was strangulation, and he had the same marks on the arms like all the others, but this time it was more brutal than anything we’ve seen before. Multiple stab wounds, his face nearly torn off, he was barely recognizable. In all seriousness.. I don’t think we’re dealing with a human anymore.”

Shizune chimed in, her tone serious. “You don’t have to open the file if you don’t want to, Sasuke. It’s extremely graphic.”

The room grew quiet, everyone watching Sasuke, curious if he would brave the file after seeing Naruto’s dramatic reaction.

With a scoff, Sasuke opened the file, flipping through the pages of grisly photographs. They weren’t exaggerating—it was horrific. He forced himself to keep looking, despite the rising nausea. Each new picture was worse than the last, the brutality beyond anything he’d expected. Now he understood why Naruto had bolted.

Finally, Sasuke reached the last page, where the victim’s identification was listed. He skimmed the details—age, clothing, last known location—until his eyes landed on the man’s photograph.

Oh.

His stomach lurched.

It was him.

The man who slapped Naruto.

Chapter Text

The sky was overcast, heavy with dark blue clouds that swirled ominously overhead. Chilly gusts of wind whistled through the trees, whipping them back and forth, while the leaves rustled in harsh, swishing protests. The sun had yet to rise, leaving the lingering darkness of night clinging to the village.

Naruto trudged slowly through the bleak streets of Konoha, his pace unhurried and sluggish. His teeth chattered from the cold, and his stomach growled, still unsettled. The bitter taste of bile lingered in his throat. The streetlights cast a dim glow over his face, highlighting the deep shadows beneath his eyes. His once-bright cerulean eyes, now dull, resembled those of a lifeless doll.

He paused, glancing around the eerily empty street. It was 5 a.m., sure, but normally there would be at least some signs of life—people out for morning jogs, early grocery shopping, or simply walking in anticipation of the day. But now, it was dead silent. Not even a stray cat prowled the alleys. Naruto shook his head and kept walking, hoping the movement might clear his jumbled thoughts. It didn’t.

His mind was still spinning. He couldn’t shake the horrific images from the file, the mutilated face burned into his memory. The cuts all over the man’s body, the long, jagged gashes, made it clear that whoever had done this wanted him to suffer. He was hardly recognizable. Not that Naruto knew what he looked like before. He seemed familiar. Yes. But he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. 

Distant shouts suddenly echoed through the quiet streets. Snapping the boy out of his stupor. Naruto stopped, turning toward the sound. Had he imagined it? He stood still, waiting. Then, another louder, more desperate shout was heard. Confirming his suspicions. His stomach clenched.

What if...

No. He couldn’t think like that. But still, he found himself running toward the sound, his feet pounding against the pavement as dread curled inside him. Fear gnawing at him, he braced himself for whatever he might find.

When Naruto reached the source of the noise, relief washed over him. It was just a couple of kids. But then he saw what was happening. An older boy had cornered the smaller one, a cruel grin plastered across his face.

The older kid was tall. Around five foot nine. He was lanky too. He had black hair that slightly covered his eyebrows, and green eyes to go with it. He looked to be older than Naruto, by a few years at least. The younger kid wasn’t as intimidating. He was blonde with brown eyes. Short and skinny. Almost anorexic. Naruto grimaced at the scene unfolding in front of him. It sickly reminded him of his own childhood. Although his memory was foggy, the strong emotions he felt back then are unforgettable. Loneliness, anguish, hatred, and constant fear of people like this boy. The blue eyed boy clenched his fists. Eyebrows furrowing.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing!?” Naruto yelled, walking up to the pair. His knuckles cracked as his hands balled into fists. Both boys turned to face him, the younger one looking up at him with silent desperation.

“Just teaching this brat a lesson,” the older boy sneered. “You got a problem with that?”

“Hell yeah, I do,” Naruto shot back, his glare matching the boy’s. The older kid shoved the smaller one to the ground and started toward Naruto, his grin widening.

“Oh, you wanna start something?” he taunted. “You better run home to your mommy before I—”

Naruto cut him off, rolling his eyes. “Shut up already.” He reached up to point at his headband, only to realize he’d forgotten to wear it. Great. Guess he’d have to do this the hard way.

“Give it your best shot, asshole.” Naruto challenged.

The taller boy lunged at him, throwing a punch. Naruto dodged effortlessly, grabbing his arm and twisting it behind his back. In one swift motion, he slammed the boy to the ground, pinning him with his foot on his back and pulling his arms painfully behind him. The boy whimpered.

“What, nothing to say now?” Naruto taunted, grinning despite himself. Some of his confidence returned in that moment, a stark contrast to the crushing defeat he’d experienced the day before. He’d been beaten down in front of a crowd, and the memory still made him cringe. That man was scary, huge, strong and intimidating. Naruto didn’t stand a chance. But why did he seem so oddly familiar? Where had he seen that figure before? 

It hit him.

Naruto released the boy, stumbling back in shock. His eyes widened as the realization dawned on him. The black-haired kid scrambled to his feet and ran off, not looking back.

“That was... the man from my dream,” Naruto mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. His head throbbed, his thoughts racing. This couldn’t be just a coincidence. Could it? First, he dreamed of a murder, and now the victim from his dream had died in real life? And to make matters worse, it was someone he knew?

His breath quickened, his chest tightening as if his body was punishing him for piecing it all together.

“Th-thank you,” came a small, trembling voice.

Naruto blinked, snapping out of his spiraling thoughts. He looked down at the younger boy, who was still sitting on the ground, tears streaming down his face.

“Oh, uh yea—no problem!” Naruto smiled, though it lacked its usual brightness. “You should head home. Your parents are probably worried sick.” The boy nodded, managing a small smile before scampering off.

Naruto glanced up at the sky. The sun had begun to rise, casting soft pink and gold hues over the village. The rays illuminated the streets, a beautiful sight—but Naruto felt undeserving of it. He was trapped in his thoughts, unable to shake the feeling that something terrible was happening, and he was in the middle of it.

A familiar voice jolted him from his reverie. “Man, I’m craving some barbecue,” Kiba’s voice echoed down the street. Naruto’s eyes widened, and he ducked behind a trash can. He didn’t have the energy to deal with his friends right now, especially not after everything.

“I’m surprised you still want to eat after what Lady Tsunade told us,” another voice chimed in. “Plus, it’s barely morning. That can’t be good for your stomach.”

Naruto raised an eyebrow, recognizing Hinata’s soft voice. Once their voices faded into the distance, Naruto sprinted toward his apartment. He had too much on his mind, and standing in the middle of the street with the sun blazing down on him wasn’t going to help.

The apartment was unnervingly quiet. Not a sound stirred in the hours since Naruto had returned, save for the occasional sigh or the slow rhythm of his breaths. He hadn’t moved from his spot, lying on his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. His eyes traced the cracks and imperfections in the plaster, his mind trying desperately to escape from itself. Everything felt surreal. He couldn’t process it, his thirteen-year-old mind wasn’t equipped to handle something like this. He didn’t know how to ease the turmoil inside him.

Someone was dead. Their life simply gone. They’d never eat, laugh, or feel happiness again. Naruto had witnessed it, watched as a shadow stripped his life away. He didn’t know how or why he’d seen it, and part of him didn’t want to. He didn’t want to fit the puzzle pieces together, didn’t want to understand. Deep down, though, he was scared. If he uncovered the truth, maybe he’d be next. The shadow would come for him, and he’d meet the same miserable, agonizing end.

It wasn’t death that frightened him—it was the idea of that kind of death. The pain, the suffering. He wouldn’t wish it on his worst enemy.

A loud groan broke the silence as Naruto slowly sat up for the first time in hours. His head pounded, the dull throb persisting since he’d run into those kids in the alley. His stomach felt hollow, his body sluggish. Not to mention his abdomen wasn't fully healed either. He thought a cold shower might help, maybe it would distract him from the weight of reality pressing in on him. He stood up too quickly, though, and his vision swam, dark spots threatening to engulf him. He collapsed back onto the bed, breathing heavily, his head spinning.

He’d been feeling strangely fatigued lately. Maybe it really was the lack of food? Up until recently Naruto has never really struggled with eating; actually, just a couple weeks ago he was able to devour over 7 bowls of ramen in one sitting. But now, every time he eats, he gets unbearably nauseous. He can't even stomach one bowl of miso ramen anymore. So these days, he stuck to snacks like bananas and grapes, healthier, sure, but it wasn’t by choice.

After a few moments of steadying himself, Naruto rose again, this time more cautiously. He stood for a few seconds before heading to his closet to grab fresh clothes. In the bathroom, he stripped off his clothes and stepped into the shower. The cold water hit him like a shock, jolting him awake. It was relieving. He could feel the tension draining away, swirling down the drain as if it had never mattered in the first place. For those brief moments, time stood still, and so did his worries.

By the time he got out of the shower two hours had already flown by. The sun had started to set, casting a warm glow across his apartment. He felt exhausted, but sleep wasn’t something he could afford right now. He couldn’t risk closing his eyes, couldn’t risk seeing it again in his dreams. He wasn’t sure how long he planned to stay awake, but he knew for certain that sleep wasn’t happening tonight.

Time dragged on, painfully slow. The ticking of the clock grated on his nerves, its sound amplified in the quiet apartment. Naruto glanced up at it again, 1:24 a.m. Only ten minutes had passed since he last checked, but it felt like hours. He shifted uncomfortably in bed, unable to find a position that brought any relief from the heat and stuffiness of the room. The air felt oppressive. He couldn’t take it anymore, he had to get out.

He grabbed a jacket, not bothering to change out of his pajamas, and threw on his sandals. As an afterthought, he pocketed a kunai. Better to be safe. He stepped outside, the door clicking shut behind him.

The cool night air hit his face as he walked down the familiar streets. He took a deep breath, surprised by how alive he felt. More alive than he had in weeks. There was something invigorating about being out this late, something that lifted the weight off his shoulders, if only temporarily. He would definitely make this a habit.

As his feet carried him through the village, his mind wandered back to old memories, Team 7, his friends. Just two years ago, no one wanted to be seen with him, too embarrassed to associate with the troublemaker. Some still might feel that way, but at least it wasn’t as obvious now. He smiled faintly. Maybe the old man would be proud of him now. He’d made friends and stopped pulling pranks. Nauto hated to admit it but the old man’s death had really hit him hard, he was the only adult who had ever shown him kindness growing up. His passing still didn’t feel real. Just two months ago, he was alive.

And now he’s just a memory.

“Just like that man,” A loud, yet mellow voice commented from behind Naruto.

Naruto jumped, spinning around as he whipped out his kunai. He was greeted with nothing. His heart pounded in his chest. The street was empty.

“Who’s there?!” Naruto called, his voice shaking. The air around him thickened, heavy with an eerie silence. His hands trembled, the kunai shaking in his grip. No response. Was he imagining things? No. He was sure he’d heard it. He wasn’t paranoid—was he?

He couldn’t stay still. He couldn’t wait around for whatever, or whoever, was out there. He needed to leave. Now.

Naruto spun on his heel and sprinted back toward his apartment. His breath came in ragged gasps, the cool air burning his lungs. He didn’t care. He ran faster, his mind racing with the thought that something was chasing him, right on his heels. His apartment came into view, but the sight brought no comfort. He wasn’t inside.

Naruto bolted up the stairs, skipping three at a time, his heart hammering in his chest. He paused abruptly right before he could enter his apartment. Panic gripped him, icy and paralyzing. His breathing was erratic, his chest tight as fear took hold of him completely.

His door was wide open.

Chapter Text

Naruto’s body trembled as he stood frozen before the door of his small apartment. A strange energy surged through him, like electricity crackling beneath his skin, but it did nothing to dull the terror that had long since gripped his heart. The thought that someone, an intruder,could be hiding in the place he called home sent a shiver down his spine. His sweaty palms clenched the kunai tighter, his knuckles white. Every nerve in his body was on high alert as he lunged forward, entering the run-down apartment, ready to defend himself against whatever horror awaited inside.

His eyes darted frantically from corner to corner, scanning for anything out of place, any sign that he wasn’t losing his mind. His heart pounded violently in his chest, each beat harder than the last, as if trying to tear free from his ribcage. Every step he took felt like a piece of his soul was being stripped away. He moved through the apartment with increasing dread. first his bedroom, nothing. Then the closet, nothing. Finally, the bathroom. Still nothing.

No one was there.

Had he really just left the door open?

“God...” Naruto’s grip on the kunai slackened, and he pressed his palms to his head, groaning in frustration. 

“I’m so stupid,” he muttered, squeezing his eyes shut. The terror that had gripped him moments ago faded, leaving behind exhaustion. He slumped over, resting his forehead against the cold, chipped sink.

“I’m going crazy,” he choked out, his laugh bitter and hollow. His breaths came in ragged gasps, still not fully under control. Could he really have forgotten to close the door? The more he thought about it, the more plausible it seemed. He hadn’t actually remembered shutting the door before leaving. With some form of relief, he could feel the adrenaline slowly draining from his body.

But still, something still felt wrong.

The air was too thick, too still. A faint metallic scent lingered in the apartment, sharp and unsettling. There was a burning sensation at the back of his head, like the prickling awareness of eyes watching him. His skin crawled. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Something wasn’t right.

Naruto’s eyes snapped open.

Oh God.

Blood. Everywhere.

It coated his hands, his arms, his face. It smeared across the walls, the floor, the sink, and the shattered mirror. The air reeked of iron and death.

No. No. No.

Naruto stumbled back, his legs buckling under him as he desperately spun around. His gaze fell on a pair of lifeless eyes glaring back at him from the corner of the room.

A bloodcurdling scream tore from his throat. His body shook with horror as he stared at the corpse lying twisted in his bathtub. The neck had been wrenched at an unnatural angle, as if something had twisted it four times over. The mouth was carved out, leaving a gaping, ragged hole where the face should have been. Guts spilled from the mutilated torso, the legs reduced to nothing but stumps.

Naruto staggered backward in revulsion, collapsing onto the floor. His breath hitched, tears blurring his vision as he felt something cold and foreign beneath him.

He didn’t want to look.

But he couldn’t stop himself.

His trembling hands shifted, and there, beneath him, were the missing legs.

Naruto’s hand flew to his mouth, stifling a sob as the bile rose in his throat. His vision swam, head light, as he struggled to his feet, staggering away from the grotesque scene. He ripped off his blood-soaked jacket and pants, desperate to rid himself of the sticky, clinging warmth of the blood. His breath came in shallow, ragged gasps. No matter how much air he inhaled, his lungs screamed for more.

“Calm yourself.”

The voice was back—loud, calm, and clear, right in his ear.

Naruto couldn’t respond, his body consumed by violent sobs. His legs gave way beneath him as he collapsed once more to the cold, blood-smeared tiles. He gripped his head with both hands, knees pulled to his chest, rocking himself back and forth as panic overtook him.

“T-this isn’t real,” Naruto whispered shakily, voice broken. He squeezed his eyes shut, repeating the mantra over and over again, forcing himself to believe it. The words spilled from his lips in a desperate rhythm, until he could almost convince himself it was true.

“Open your eyes, Naruto.”

The voice was a command now. Naruto no longer had the strength to resist. Slowly, with dread curling in his gut, he opened his eyes.

Nothing. 

No blood. 

No body. 

The room was as it had been before, silent and untouched. The apartment was exactly the same as when he had first returned.

Naruto stared in disbelief, his chest still heaving with the aftermath of fear. He was losing himself. He was slipping, spiraling into something he didn’t understand.

 And he had no idea how to stop it..

The sun shined brilliantly as the new day dawned. White fluffy clouds drifted across the clear blue sky. Birds chirped happily, thrilled to begin another day. Children ran down the streets of Konaha giggling and laughing so full of energy and joy.

The wind blew lightly, as team 7 waited patiently for their sensei to make an appearance. Naruto had been filling the morning air with consistent bantering, which was strange, even for him. Sakura and Sasuke were both well aware of how much he loves to talk, but today, he seemed almost..desperate. Desperate to fill the insufferable silence with some sort of conversation.

“-and then I totally took it cause I didn’t know what else to do with it.” Naruto laughed, continuing to blab on. To Sasuke, it looked like Naruto was just simply afraid to stand in silence. Like he was afraid to stop laughing and smiling. 

Sasuke exhaled deeply. Naruto's endless banter and laughter was seriously pissing him and Sakura off. 

“Time to get the day started.” Kakashi clapped, sneaking up on the genin. 

“Kakashi sensei, what took you so long!” Naruto questioned, looking annoyed. Before responding Kakashi took a second to get a good look at his student. If not for Naruto’s positive attitude and loud personality, you could get away with assuming he was a hospital patient who had escaped. To put it simply, he looked terrible. His hair was unkempt, his face was sunken in, his eye bags were deep and dark, and an unnatural pale replaced his once so tan and vibrant skin. Kakashi was curious as to what was going on mentally with his young disciple that left him looking so sickly. 

“I just got caught up looking at nature’s beauty.” Kakashi responded, caressing a nearby plant. The young ninjas scoffed at his lazy excuse. “Anyway we oughta get this mission started. I don't want Lady Tsunade giving me hell for not attending our posts in time” He shrugged.

Sakura gritted her teeth, fed up with her teacher's shenanigans. “Weren’t we supposed to be at our posts thirty minutes ago?” 

“Oh I did say that, huh? Well it actually starts now, so off to our positions.” Kakashi smiled under his mask, knowing his lax attitude always got on his students' nerves. It took everything in Sakura not to power up all of her chakra and beat her teacher straight into the ground. 

Eventually, team 7 took off running, following their teacher as he jumped from rooftop to rooftop attempting to find the designated location their file set for them. Naruto on the other hand was already well aware of exactly where the team needed to be, as he had scoped out all of the locations several hours before. 

He needed something to distract him. So, he did everything he could think of to escape his tattered mind. He trained, he re-read the files for the upcoming mission, he went to all of the locations they would be stationed. He was desperately clinging to any sense of normalcy he could find.

Gradually Kakashi showed everyone their separate posts and gave out instructions. Naruto tried to focus on Kakashi’s words but they were all starting to merge together. In fact, everything was merging together. His vision had already failed him once before and he really didn’t need it happening again. But.. their faces were… spinning, and he could feel the world slowly starting to grow dark.

“Naruto?”  

When his vision finally came back to him, concerned faces swarmed around him.

“Are you okay? You almost fell over.” Sakura asked, her voice laced with worry. Naruto threw his arms in the air, waving it off.  

“I’m fine, I just lost my balance for a second, nothing to worry about.” He laughed sheepishly, hoping his blatant lie was believable enough. The ninjas shared concerned glances to one another, but decided not to press Naruto any further.

“We’ll take your word on it, Naruto.” Kakashi stated, making it quite obvious that he, along with the rest of the team, didn’t believe a word that came out of the blonde's mouth. 

As time slowly ticked by Naruto noticed it was becoming harder and harder to keep his heavy eyelids from shutting. He didn’t think sleep deprivation was going to be this bad. Every chance his eyes got to close, they would. His eyes craved for the one thing that Naruto couldn’t grant. He wasn’t going to give in. The blonde knew that it would be the perfect opportunity for the shadow to finally get him, or any of the other people he cared for. So Naruto’s eyes remained open, glued to the suspect. The Uzumaki poured all of his energy, focusing on the person not even a hundred feet away from him.  

“Naruto, are you sure you’re okay?” A worried voice commented from behind him. 

“Geez Sakura, I assure you I’m fine, just a little worn out.” The blonde repeated, annoyance seeping through his voice. He understands their concerns for him, but he is currently using all of the energy he can muster up, attempting to concentrate on this stupid mission. He didn’t have time for small talk if it wasn’t on his own accord.

Wasteless hours had already managed to fly by and still, nothing interesting or even remotely suspicious had taken place. Just normal villagers following their daily routines. After about an hour of stalking Naruto expressed his discomfort towards watching random strangers life’s, as he felt he was invading their private lives. Sasuke responded to him saying something along the lines of ‘it’s not that deep’ stupid, petty remarks that only ever sounded cool coming from Sasuke’s mouth. 

In due time Kakashi called it a day and wrapped up their ninja work for the day. As they were about to part ways they just so happened to bump into the other three teams who, most likely just got done with the same tasks they did.

The group of ninjas slowly started to merge together. During the process, Naruto saw the perfect opportunity to slip away. He wasn’t sure If he could keep his smiles and laughs up for any longer than he already had. 

“Naruto, where are you sneaking off too?” Shikamaru questioned from behind, causing the group to all turn to Naruto for a response. The blonde cursed Shikamaru’s sharpness.

“Oh uh- I wanted to head home to start getting my clothes ready for the wash.” He wasn’t completely lying, it was something he had to do. 

“C’mon you’ll be fine! We’re all gonna get ramen again!” Kiba said in an attempt to bribe the blonde into staying.

The whole group had been somewhat weary of Naruto, especially after the big scene he threw during the emergency meeting. They all were aware that something was going on with the blonde, and that was just the icing on the cake. But it wasn’t just recently either. Naruto has been looking sickly for weeks now, but no one had the balls to ask him about it, in fear of being too pushy. However, it seemed Naruto had gotten a lot worse in only one night. 

“No guys, really, I'm good, I really need to catch up on some sleep, and I have the ultimate supreme ramen waiting for me at home.” Naruto let out a laugh that sounded more sad than what he hoped for.

“Ugh, fine whatever but you're missing out dude.” Kiba shrugged at his failed attempt to cheer him up. Naruto smiled at his friends, turning his back, preparing himself to return to hell. 

The apartment was cold and eerily quiet.

Naruto lay still on his bed, staring at the ceiling. It was strange, almost ironic, that his bed had never felt this comfortable before. He had outgrown it years ago, its lumpy mattress a constant annoyance, but tonight, for the first time in what seemed like forever, it actually felt inviting. Soft. Relaxing. And yet, now that sleep was a luxury he couldn’t afford, his bed finally felt like a real bed.

Naruto sighed heavily, biting his tongue hard enough to feel the sharp sting, but not enough to draw blood. He’d recently discovered that pain was his last resort to staying awake. It wasn’t a great method, he knew, but at this point, he was desperate. Three days without sleep had pushed him past his limits, but he had no other choice. He was convinced now that sleep itself was part of whatever sinister force was closing in on him. Every thought, every suspicion, it all pointed to one conclusion: he couldn’t let himself fall asleep.

His mind was cluttered with fragments of paranoia, connecting dots that may not have even existed. But Naruto couldn’t shake the feeling that everything—every strange occurrence, every unease in his chest—was connected. The exhaustion was becoming unbearable, his vision sometimes wavering between reality and hallucination. He had never been good at pulling all-nighters. The only time he managed it before was when he stayed up late with Konohamaru, pulling pranks and sharing laughs.

Naruto chuckled to himself softly, though it felt hollow. He missed those carefree days with Konohamaru, the little brother he never had. They hadn’t spent time together in a while, mostly because of missions and responsibilities piling up. He’d been so wrapped up in his duties that he hadn’t realized how much he missed the kid. It was lame to admit, but Konohamaru had become someone important to him—someone he felt the need to protect. A bond that, in some small way, helped fill the void from his own lonely childhood.

His childhood. The memories were a foggy blur, like distant dreams he couldn’t quite grasp. Naruto didn’t dwell on them much, he didn’t really want to. Most of it was blocked out anyways, buried deep. Likely as a defense mechanism. Every time he tried to remember, the past slipped through his fingers, leaving him with nothing but vague images and half-forgotten feelings. One thing that remained crystal clear, though, was how miserable he had been. How pitiful. He learned early on that pity got him nowhere. People who pitied him did nothing to help, they just looked at him with sad eyes, shook their heads, and went about their day.

So he became loud. Overbearing. Cheerful. Anything but pitiful. He would much rather be the obnoxious fool than the sad, lonely orphan, hoping for scraps of kindness. That way, he wouldn’t have to depend on anyone’s empathy. But this coping mechanism came with a cost—he buried his true emotions deep, letting them fester, with no outlet to release them. He knew it wasn’t healthy, but confronting those feelings was something he wasn’t ready for. Maybe he never would be.

With a groan, Naruto forced himself to sit up. His hands shook as he brought them to his face, feeling the puffiness around his eyes. They were swollen and half-open, so exhausted that even keeping them halfway open was a struggle. They were begging for sleep. Every fiber of his being screamed for rest. But he couldn’t give in. Not yet.

He stood, swaying on his feet, barely able to muster the strength to walk. The apartment felt colder than usual, the air biting at his skin as he stumbled out of his bedroom, heading for the kitchen. His throat was dry, parched, and water seemed like the only thing that might momentarily distract him from the crushing fatigue.

As he passed the bathroom, his heart rate spiked. The memories from the night before came flooding back, filling his mind with horror. His footsteps faltered, and his eyes squeezed shut as if that would erase the images flashing through his brain. But it was no use. His head was spinning, the dizziness from exhaustion making him feel like he was about to collapse at any moment.

And then it happened.

The floor rushed up to meet him, the hard impact barely registering in his mind. His body felt heavy, his limbs too weak to move. The darkness crept in around him, swallowing him whole. He had been fighting it for so long, but now, there was nothing left to fight with.

Sleep.

The one thing he feared most finally claimed him.

Chapter Text

It was dark.

Utterly, oppressively dark. The kind of darkness that swallows everything, where even sound seemed lost to the void. Naruto floated in the silence, surrounded by nothingness, and for a moment, he had forgotten why he had fought so hard to stay awake. Strangely, he felt at peace here, drifting in the emptiness. It was a reprieve, a twisted kind of tranquility that numbed him to the harsh reality he’d been avoiding. The relentless pressures, the threats lurking in the waking world. They couldn’t touch him here. So, he sank deeper, letting himself bathe in the quiet, in the sleep he had been chasing for so long.

Until the screaming began.

It tore through the silence like a blade, sharp and horrifying. The screams were so loud, so filled with agony, they made Naruto’s heart pound in his chest. He remembered now. He remembered why he had been so terrified of sleep. The peaceful dark shattered, giving way to something far more sinister. The cries echoed around him, growing louder, more desperate, bouncing off the invisible walls of this twisted space. Naruto spun, searching for the source, but no matter where he looked, the void remained empty.

Panic crawled up from the pit of his stomach, tightening its grip. He could feel it..something was here. Something was toying with him, controlling the nightmare. The shadow. He could feel it watching him, twisting the space around him, making him listen to the tortured wails of another victim. His body trembled with dread. He had to find them, whoever was screaming, he had to help.

But as he ventured deeper into the void, the cries only grew worse. The screaming was louder, more visceral, the kind of sound that rattled his bones. Then, in the distance, he saw them, two figures. One was sprawled on the ground, writhing in agony, while the other loomed over them like a nightmare come to life.

Naruto approached cautiously, his pulse racing. The closer he got, the clearer the scene became.

It was worse than anything he could have imagined.

A familiar lanky boy lay on the ground, his limbs flailing weakly as he tried to fend off the dark figure standing over him. The boy’s dark hair was matted with sweat, his green eyes wide with terror. He screamed again, a blood-curdling sound, pleading for help that would never come.

“Please! Someone! Help me!!” The boy wailed, clutching his head, curling into himself as the shadow struck him again and again. The figure was relentless, merciless, its form a mass of darkness, the shape of it unclear but terrifying all the same.

Naruto’s breath caught in his throat as the shadow grabbed the boy’s arm with sickening force and ripped it from its socket. The sound of tearing flesh and the boy’s subsequent scream pierced through Naruto like a knife. He recoiled, his body frozen, unable to move.

“No—stop it! Stop!!” Naruto screamed, his voice raw with desperation. He wanted to run forward, to throw himself at the shadow and save the boy. But he couldn’t. His body was glued to the spot, trapped in place by some unseen force, just like before, useless, helpless. He could do nothing but watch as the nightmare unfolded.

The boy’s arm was dangling by threads of skin now, his cries weak, barely audible through the blood filling his throat. Naruto’s stomach twisted violently. He wanted to look away, but he couldn’t. He had to see. He had to try to help.

“Please! Let him go! He didn’t do anything!!” Naruto shouted again, his voice breaking. The shadow ignored him, continuing its brutal assault.

Then came the kunai. The shadow raised it slowly, deliberately, and Naruto could hear the dark chuckle that slithered through the air. With one swift motion, the blade plunged into the boy’s stomach. Blood sprayed across the void in an arc, the thick crimson staining the darkness.

Naruto choked on a sob as the boy’s screams turned to wet, gurgling sounds. His body convulsed, the air in his lungs replaced by blood, his face pale with shock and pain. The shadow kept stabbing, over and over, crushing the boy’s rib cage, mutilating his body beyond recognition. And still, Naruto could only watch, trembling, his mind teetering on the edge of collapse.

“Why—why are you doing this?!” Naruto’s voice was hoarse, barely more than a whisper, his throat raw from screaming. The shadow paused for a moment, as though considering his question, then continued its gruesome work without a word.

The boy’s body fell limp. His blood-soaked chest rose and fell once, twice, and then stilled completely. The green eyes that once pleaded for help were now empty, lifeless.

Naruto’s breath came in ragged gasps, his heart racing with fear and anger. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from the shadow, from the cruel smile that seemed to spread across its dark, featureless face. It loomed over the boy, victorious, a predator satisfied with its kill.

Tsunade was right. This thing couldn’t be human.

Naruto swallowed hard, his mouth dry. His mind raced with questions, his thoughts swirling in chaos, but only one rose above the rest. He forced the words out, his voice trembling.

“W-who are you?”

For a moment, the void fell silent.

Then, the shadow spoke, its voice low and twisted.

“I’m your akuma.”

Three familiar words echoed in Naruto’s ears as he violently shot up from the floor. His body reacted before his mind caught up, launching him to the bathroom where he emptied what little was left in his stomach. Each heave brought back flashes of the nightmare, the gruesome, violent scene replaying itself in his mind. The thick, acidic fluid burned his throat, a harsh reminder of the blood and screams that haunted him. Hot, fat tears streamed down his pale face, mixing with the sweat that clung to his skin.

"Another person is dead." The whisper barely left his lips, but the weight of those words crushed him. Another soul..gone. Someone who would never laugh, cry, or feel anything again. And it was all his fault. If only he had stayed awake. He sobbed, the realization sinking deeper into his chest. The man and the boy—both dead because of him.

No. 

That wasn’t right. 

It wasn’t his fault. It was the shadow. The thing that controlled the void. Naruto had tried, hadn’t he? He was just a victim in the shadow’s twisted game. Why should he feel guilty for something he had no control over? He didn’t kill them—he’d only been forced to watch. There was no blood on his hands.

A light sequence of knocks broke the silence of his apartment. Naruto groaned, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, trying to rid himself of the acidic taste that lingered. He quickly dragged his hands across his tear-streaked cheeks, scrubbing away the evidence of his breakdown. He took a deep, shaky breath and staggered toward the door.

Kakashi stood there, waiting. Naruto wasn’t sure what his sensei had expected to see, but the sight of him—a hollow, broken shell of his former self—seemed to surprise even the normally unflappable Hatake. Naruto forced a smile, but it was chilling in its emptiness. His once-bright eyes were now dull, shadowed with exhaustion. He was a walking corpse, barely hanging on.

"Mmm, what’re you waking me up so early for?" Naruto’s voice was hoarse, his smile unsettlingly forced as he rubbed his swollen, raw eyes.

Kakashi felt a pang of guilt shoot through him. He had seen Naruto drifting away from them for weeks now. It had been subtle at first—so subtle that no one had noticed until it was too late. Now, Kakashi feared that the boy was beyond saving. He should’ve acted sooner. Should’ve pulled Naruto aside, talked to him, offered some kind of help. But he hadn’t. And now, he might have lost him for good.

"Lady Tsunade summoned us," Kakashi said, keeping his tone steady despite the unease twisting in his chest. "There’s another emergency meeting."

Naruto’s reaction was barely noticeable, but Kakashi caught it. The slight widening of his eyes, the subtle tensing of his shoulders, the clenching of his jaw. Fear. Naruto was afraid, and Kakashi couldn’t blame him. This case had been brutal, far beyond what any of the genin had ever dealt with before.

"Alright. I’ll go change." Naruto muttered, retreating into his apartment.

Kakashi leaned against the wall, watching the boy disappear inside. His heart felt heavy with the weight of his own failure. He should’ve done more—he knew that now. But it wasn’t just about Naruto’s worsening condition. He couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more at play, something they hadn’t fully grasped yet. Was it just depression? It seemed possible, given Naruto’s upbringing and the constant burdens he bore as the Jinchuriki of the Nine Tails. But.. it was more than that. The change in Naruto was sudden, sharp, and terrifying.

When Naruto emerged, dressed and ready, he looked even smaller than before. His face was gaunt, his frame thinner than Kakashi remembered. There was a reluctance in his step, but also a simmering determination in his eyes.

"You all set?" Kakashi asked gently.

Naruto nodded, and the two began their trek to the Hokage’s tower.

The morning air was crisp, cool with the lingering touch of night. Naruto had always noticed the subtle differences between dawn and dusk. He didn’t know why, but he appreciated the small things like that. Today, though, the peace felt hollow, like it was hiding something darker underneath. The only sounds were the rustling of leaves in the wind and the heavy footsteps of Naruto and Kakashi.

Naruto’s chest tightened with a strange, indescribable pain. It twisted deep inside him, coiling around his heart and lungs like a vice. He dug his nails into his palms, the sharp pain a welcome distraction from the turmoil inside. He barely noticed when Kakashi spoke.

“Naruto,” Kakashi’s voice broke the silence. “I want you to answer me honestly.”

Naruto unclenched his fists, blood just barely starting to pool where his nails had dug in. He looked up, confused.

“Hm? Yeah, sure.”

Kakashi stopped, turning to face him. “Are you really… okay?”

Naruto froze. The question hung in the air, echoing in his mind. His lips trembled, and he bit down, hard, to stop the tears that threatened to spill. After a moment, he forced a smile, though it was weak and brittle.

“I’m fine, Sensei. Really. Just… dealing with some personal stuff.” The lie tasted bitter in his mouth, but what else could he say?

Kakashi’s gaze softened, but the concern never left his eyes. “Naruto, you know you can talk to me, right? Whenever you’re ready. I’m here for you.”

Naruto nodded, grateful for Kakashi’s support but convinced it was too late. He had seen too much, felt too much. He had watched people die, torn apart right in front of him, and he couldn’t save them. No one could understand what he was going through. This was his fight. His burden to bear.

The Hokage’s tower loomed ahead, and the weight in Naruto’s chest grew heavier. As they reached the entrance, they spotted Sakura and Sasuke waiting, both of them tense and on edge. Without a word, the group entered the tower, where Shizune immediately ushered them into Lady Tsunade’s office. Four folders were handed to them, each one heavier than the last.

Tsunade’s voice was grave as she spoke. “This victim was only fifteen.”

“This case is growing more and more serious as the days go by. As we see now, the thing committing these atrocious acts has no preference, and will kill anyone, no matter their gender or age. Which is why I am removing you guys from this mission, as it has moved to A rank, and will now be handled by the Jounin and Anbu. Any objections?” The woman concluded with a heavy sigh. The group remained silent. Still observing the files in their hands. 

Naruto looked down at his unopened file, not quite ready for his suspicions to be proven right. He glanced around at his comrades, trying to gain the strength to open the folder but their expressions made it difficult. The blonde grit his teeth and opened the beige folder, flipping through the pages. 

Naruto’s heart stopped. His hands trembled as he slowly opened the folder, dreading what he would find inside. His breath hitched when he saw the identification picture—the dark hair, the green eyes. It was the same boy. The same boy he had seen bullying the younger boy. The same one the shadow had murdered.

He closed the folder, bile rising in his throat. He didn’t need to see any more. His suspicions had been right all along. And now, their team was being removed from the case.

Naruto barely heard the rest of Tsunade’s words as she went on about a different mission she was assigning them. All he could think about was what he needed to do next. He would stop the shadow—alone. He had to. He couldn’t let anyone else die because of him. This was his mission. His burden. And he would carry it alone.

“If there are no objections the genin are dismissed, and please don’t disclose any information of this mission to the public. I will handle it myself. Jounin please stay, I need you to fill me in on any information you’ve found.” The hokage concluded, sighing deeply.

As the team filed out of the room, Naruto trailed behind, lost in his thoughts. Just as he was about to leave, he heard his name mentioned from inside the Hokage’s office. He pressed his ear to the door, listening.

“I mean, he’s the jailer of the Nine-Tails! I have every right to be suspicious!” Ebisu’s voice rang out. “And you heard what Lady Tsunade said. The marks on the victim’s arm couldn’t have been made by a human!”

Naruto’s blood ran cold. They thought it was him. They thought he had something to do with the murders. His fists clenched. He wanted to burst in, to scream at them, to tell them they were wrong.

“Now why would you say something so absurd!” The hokage slammed her hands down on what Naruto could guess was her already very broken desk. After her outburst the room filled with incoherent arguing. Naruto tried harder to listen to the shouts, but was cut off by a pink haired kunoichi strutting straight for him, her fists balled. 

“Naruto.” Sakura seethed, veins popping. “You know what I said I would do the next time I caught you eavesdropping.” She finished, cracking her knuckles. 

As she dragged Naruto down the hall, berating him for eavesdropping, Naruto was barely registering her words. His mind was racing. He grit his teeth in frustration. His anger bubbling just beneath the surface.

He would definitely remember what he said.

Chapter Text

A cool breeze swept through the empty streets of the Leaf Village, carrying the soft murmur of young voices. The faint whispers of conversation wove through the vacant streets, filling the thick night air with a sense of unease. Tall trees swayed, their leaves rustling with an eerie, almost ominous melody that seemed to hang over the village. Although the genin were nervous, it didn’t stop them from talking, and their voices continued to punctuate the silence, even if the words themselves were mostly meaningless.

"Walking around at night without any jonin is kinda creepy, don’t you think?" Choji’s voice cut through the quiet, stating the obvious. The group collectively sighed, silently cursing him for bringing attention back to the eerie atmosphere.

“Well, duh, Choji,” Shikamaru said, trying to reassure them. “But no one in their right mind would go after a group of shinobi, no matter our rank.”

“Shikamaru’s right,” Neji added, crossing his arms confidently. “Whoever’s behind these attacks only targets people who are alone and vulnerable. They’d stand no chance against twelve trained genin.” His analytical tone had a faint edge of pride.

“But what if they used some crazy genjutsu and knocked us all out?” Ino interjected, her voice betraying a hint of fear. Sakura shot her a glare, her face scrunching with unease.

“Shut up, you pig! You’re just trying to scare me!” Sakura snapped, her fear masked by irritation.

As the group continued down the path, their nervous chatter masked the silence, yet none of them seemed to notice Naruto lagging behind, unusually quiet. He walked with his head down, lost in a daze, barely listening to the others. A twisting pain had settled in his stomach, growing more intense with each step. His breath came shallow and ragged, and he struggled to keep his composure, clenching his jaw so tightly he thought his teeth might crack. Memories of what he had witnessed not even three hours ago flashed through his mind, sending fresh waves of nausea through him.

“Hey, you guys wanna come to my place? We just got some new puppies!” Kiba’s voice broke through the tension, bringing a bit of lightness back to the group. Everyone eagerly agreed, except for Naruto, who barely lifted his head.

“I’d love to, but… I need to do my laundry tonight,” he managed, his voice strained as he tried to hide the pain that laced every word.

“Buzzkill,” Kiba scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Didn’t you say you were going to do it yesterday?”

“Oh, c’mon. You know Naruto—he probably got distracted with ramen or scrolls,” Ino teased, waving her hands dismissively. The group chuckled, though Naruto’s attempt to join in came out as a strained, uneasy laugh.

"Alright, well at least let us walk you back to your apartment," Sakura offered, glancing at him with a mixture of concern and curiosity. Naruto hesitated, surprised by the offer, but nodded.

When they reached Naruto’s apartment building, the blonde had retreated even further into himself, hanging back and watching the cracks in the sidewalk as they walked. The others had all noticed his strange behavior; the usual spark in his eyes was gone, replaced by an unsettling silence and a haunted expression.

“Here you go, Naruto! I hope you stay productive with your youthful laundry!” Lee said, his usual energy lifting the mood. Tenten rolled her eyes and nudged him.

“Thanks, guys. I’ll catch you later,” Naruto replied quietly, giving them a brief wave before heading up the creaky, rusted stairs. The group watched him disappear before continuing their own walk, their conversation naturally drifting back to him.

“Anyone else think Naruto’s been… off lately?” Neji asked, frowning.

“Glad I’m not the only one who noticed,” Shikamaru muttered, his tone laced with worry. Hinata looked down, her fingers nervously fidgeting.

“I’m actually really worried. On the mission yesterday, he looked like he was going to pass out. Probably hasn’t slept in days,” Sakura added, her voice heavy with concern.

As they voiced their worries, Sasuke remained silent, his gaze hard. A twinge of guilt crept over him. He remembered the last encounter they’d had—Naruto hadn’t fought back like he usually would. This wasn’t the same Naruto he’d grown up with, the one who’d have laughed it off and thrown a punch. No, this Naruto seemed… broken, hollow.

Finally, Sasuke spoke, his voice low. “Yeah… something’s definitely wrong.”

Naruto staggered through the front door, clutching his stomach as waves of pain surged through him. He had no idea what was happening, only that he needed relief, fast. Gritting his teeth, he braced himself against the kitchen counter, his knuckles white with tension as he fought the scream building in his throat. Tears pricked at the corners of his sapphire eyes, the intensity of the pain driving him to the edge, his mind drifting to dark thoughts he barely had the strength to resist.

A fierce, burning ache settled deep in his lower abdomen, like fire scorching him from the inside. Trembling, Naruto forced himself toward the bathroom, stumbling through the small apartment until he reached the cracked mirror. With shaking hands, he lifted his shirt, revealing dark, intricate markings etched into his skin, inflamed and raw. The pattern was unmistakable: the Eight Trigrams Seal. Naruto’s heart pounded as he stared, instantly recognizing the seal that bound the Nine-Tails within him.

But why was it showing up now? He had only seen it during extreme training or when the fox’s chakra was leaking out. This time, it didn’t feel like chakra at all; it was something darker, more malevolent, gnawing at him from within. His thoughts fractured as another wave of pain tore through him, making his knees buckle. He collapsed to the floor, clenching his fists so tightly that his nails dug into his palms, drawing blood. The sting oddly dulled the fire in his belly, bringing a fleeting relief.

Without thinking, Naruto rolled up his sleeves and began scratching at his arms, desperate to externalize the pain inside. His fingers dug into his skin until his forearms were raw and bloody, red streaks seeping from the self-inflicted wounds. The strange relief settled over him, and slowly, the pain in his stomach ebbed, leaving only the ache of his torn skin. He took a shaky breath, his mind drifting into a numb haze.

When the worst of it had passed, Naruto forced himself to his feet, staring at the aftermath in the mirror. Blood coated his arms, staining his orange jumpsuit, and a small, macabre pool of it collected on the bathroom floor. His face was pale, his eyes rimmed with exhaustion, but he didn’t feel anything—just a strange calm in the wake of his actions. Reaching for a roll of gauze, he wrapped his arms in silence, watching the white fabric turn crimson where it touched his wounds.

He stripped off his stained clothes, tossing them into the growing pool of blood, and turned on the shower, stepping under the water as it ran red down the drain. He watched his blood swirl away with the dirt and grime he hadn’t bothered to wash off in days, feeling as if he were shedding a part of himself. Carefully, he scrubbed his arms, ignoring the sharp sting as the soap touched raw skin, focusing only on the sensation of getting clean, of watching something wash away.

After dressing in fresh clothes, Naruto formed a quick hand sign and summoned a shadow clone. “Clean up the blood and wash the jumpsuit,” he instructed, his voice hoarse and distant. He didn’t think about why this felt so natural, as if he’d done it before, but a nagging sense of familiarity tugged at the edges of his mind. Pushing it aside, he grabbed a few scrolls from the shelves, hoping to distract himself with ninja work. He hadn’t realized how far behind he’d fallen, his once-constant enthusiasm for training dimmed into a hollow routine.

Unrolling a scroll on chakra control, Naruto lay down on the floor, propping himself up on his elbows as he scanned the characters. Memories of a younger self, brimming with excitement over every new technique, flickered in his mind, like ghosts of who he used to be. But somewhere along the way, that part of him had faded, replaced by a quiet darkness that he could never quite shake.

The passing of the Third Hokage had marked a shift he still didn’t understand, a wound that hadn’t healed. He hadn’t let himself grieve, too focused on the mission with Jiraiya, on finding Tsunade, on anything that kept him moving forward. But now, he couldn’t find a distraction big enough to quiet the turmoil inside. It was like he was trapped in a horror story, facing an enemy that lived in his mind—a dark shadow he didn’t know how to confront, let alone defeat.

A loud yawn escaped him as he strained to keep reading, the characters on the scroll blurring together as his eyelids grew heavy. The scent of disinfectant filled the room, the hum of the washing machine in the background lulling him into a strange calm. His head rested on the floor, his messy blonde hair brushing against the wooden planks, the scroll slipping from his fingers as his exhaustion finally claimed him. For the first time in weeks, the world faded into silence as he drifted into a restless, dreamless sleep.

When Naruto’s eyes fluttered open, a sense of pure bliss washed over him. He was in his own room. His room. Relief crashed over him as he realized the nightmare was finally over. The shadow had been caught, the torment ended. He could finally sleep without dreading what lurked in the dark, go on late-night walks without fearing for his life. Hot tears spilled down his cheeks, and he brought a hand up to wipe his eyes, raw from exhaustion and fear.

Hours must have passed; the sun was beginning to set, casting a warm orange glow through his window. Naruto laughed, a strange, almost euphoric sound breaking free as he sat up. He couldn’t remember ever feeling this free in his thirteen years. He wanted to celebrate, to thank the shinobi who’d captured the nightmare that haunted him. He imagined taking them to the finest restaurant, treating them to the best meal money could buy. Smirking, he decided to start by getting some clean clothes from the laundry.

He headed into the bathroom, only to recoil at the overwhelming smell of bleach, vinegar, and something else he couldn’t quite place. Strange, he thought, groaning as he pinched his nose. His shadow clone had cleaned the bathroom hours ago, so why did it still smell as if the chemicals had just been sprayed?

But there was something else too—a different scent, more putrid, lurking beneath the harsh chemicals. Naruto’s chest tightened with unease. He checked the shower, the toilet, the sink, searching for anything out of place, but everything looked as it should. Finally, he shrugged it off and moved to the laundry room to check on his jumpsuit.

He crouched down and peered through the dark glass of the washing machine, expecting to see his bright orange clothes tumbling inside.

But when he opened the machine, his heart plummeted.

There, crammed within the metal drum, lay the mangled body of Ebisu, his eyes vacant and glassy, staring back at Naruto with a horror he could barely comprehend. Ebisu’s head was grotesquely tilted, almost separated from his body, his neck nothing more than torn flesh and darkness. The rest of him was covered in thick, drying blood that stuck to the sides of the washer, concealing all but his lifeless head and a few curled, stiffened fingers.

Naruto staggered back, slamming the washer door shut as his body crumpled to the floor. Harsh, guttural sobs tore from his throat, his mind unraveling with each broken breath. His hands shook as he pressed them against his head, trying to block out the image, but it was burned into his memory. He choked out a desperate, raw scream that reverberated through the walls, but nothing changed. The horror inside the washer didn’t disappear.

This can’t be real. It’s not real, he told himself, panicking as he forced his body to obey. If he counted to ten, everything would be normal, everything would be okay.

“One… t-two… three… fou—” The numbers caught in his throat. He couldn’t finish. His lungs burned, struggling for air, but no amount of breathing seemed to help. Terror gripped him, freezing his blood as the realization sank in: there was no waking from this nightmare.

The truth crashed down on him like an avalanche. The council would never believe him. Tsunade, Kakashi, Jiraiya, Sakura, even Konohamaru—they’d all think he was guilty. How could he ever explain this? They’d see him as nothing more than a murderer. A monster.

He shook violently, clutching at his head as he scrambled to piece together what had happened. Was this his fault? Had he done this? His mind spun, spiraling into darker depths until another thought cut through the chaos—he was being framed. That was the only explanation. Someone else had done this, someone who wanted to see him fall.

Desperation fueling him, Naruto scrambled to his feet, his steps unsteady as he stumbled out of the bathroom and through the door. He had to tell someone, anyone, before it was too late. If he stayed silent, they’d think he was covering it up. He was a victim here—he just needed someone to believe him. Racing down the stairs, his vision blurred by tears, he nearly tripped, catching himself at the last second.

There was one person who might understand, one person who could help him think this through.

Shikamaru Nara would know what to do.

Chapter Text

Sweat poured down Naruto’s pale, haunted face as he sprinted through the empty streets, not stopping once in twenty minutes. His shoes had been discarded miles back, leaving his bare feet to slap against the cold pavement, each impact sending sharp, fresh pain up his legs. The sting of every scrape and cut offered a strange relief from the relentless thudding of his heart, from the guilt that gnawed at his insides. His mind was clouded and his lungs were burning, but he wouldn’t stop until he stood face-to-face with Shikamaru.

The late afternoon was fading into twilight, casting the village in soft oranges and pinks. It was prime time for evening walks, but the streets were eerily empty, devoid of the usual village bustle. Only one person remained to witness Naruto’s ragged, disheveled state—a lone figure with dark hair, paused mid-step to admire the sunset. Sasuke had wandered the streets for hours after leaving Kiba’s, lost in thought and reluctant to return to his empty house. Just as he was about to head home, the sight of his teammate sprinting barefoot through the village startled him. Naruto looked deranged, desperate. Unseen, Sasuke began to follow, determined to find out what had pushed Naruto to this state.

Naruto’s body ached with exhaustion, his feet wet with blood from cuts that trailed red across the street, but he didn’t care. He didn’t feel real. The numbing fear and nausea clung to him, filling his mind with horrible images he couldn’t shake. The severed head. The bloodstained body. Each memory assaulted him, gnawing at his sanity. They were like a disease, spreading through him, consuming him.

When he finally spotted Shikamaru’s quarters in the distance, his pulse quickened. He gathered his last bit of chakra, closing the distance in a heartbeat. He stumbled to a stop, trying to catch his breath, to steady his shaking hands. How was he supposed to tell Shikamaru? How could he even begin to explain the terror he’d been enduring?

Raising a trembling hand, he reached for the doorbell—

“Stop, Naruto.”

The voice thundered in his head, making him stumble back in fear. His eyes darted around the deserted street, seeing no one.

“You’re not a fool, Naruto. Turn around.”

It was the voice again, that mocking, taunting presence.

“Who are you?” Naruto shouted, his fear boiling over into fury. “Why are you doing this?”

The voice remained calm, almost patronizing. “Turn around and leave. You’ll get us caught.”

Caught? Naruto’s mind raced. “What do you mean, ‘get us caught’? I didn’t do any of this!” he shouted, his voice breaking. He was innocent; he was being framed by a monster. How could he get caught?

“Sasuke is watching, Naruto. We need to leave,” the voice warned, still chillingly composed.

Naruto’s face fell, fear mixing with confusion. Sasuke? Why would Sasuke be here? His mind spun, trying to make sense of it all, while an eerie calm fell over him, his heart sinking lower.

Hidden in the shadows, Sasuke watched with narrowed eyes. What was Naruto doing? The blonde’s once-lively spirit had vanished, replaced by a desperation that was painful to watch. He could feel Naruto’s turmoil even from afar, the boy’s shouts carrying a raw, broken edge that made Sasuke want to reach out. But he held back, sensing that something much darker was at play.

As if entranced, Naruto’s expression changed, his gaze unfocused. He muttered something unintelligible, his steps unsteady as he turned away from Shikamaru’s door and started retreating into the darkness. Sasuke watched in silence, concern flickering through him. Once Naruto was gone, Sasuke emerged, his gaze trailing the red stains left behind by his friend’s injured feet. With a resigned sigh, he performed a water jutsu, washing away the crimson trail from the ground. The last thing he wanted was for Shikaku to find bloodstains outside his door.

Sasuke looked down the street, where Naruto had disappeared. Whatever was tormenting him was serious—and he had a feeling it was far from over.

Naruto’s body trembled as he stood frozen in the doorway of his own home. The stench had hit him before he even set foot inside—a vile, decaying odor that permeated every corner, clawing at his senses. His stomach churned, threatening to heave, his mind foggy and unsteady.

"You need to clean up the body, Naruto."

He gripped the door frame tighter, fingers digging into the wood as he struggled for words. The voice in his head was cold and calm, as if it were giving him simple instructions for a chore rather than an atrocity.

“Walk inside.”

His legs began to move, not by his own will. He felt disconnected, like a puppet on strings, his own body foreign to him.

"Go to the kitchen."

Before he could even comprehend, he was in the kitchen.

"Grab the bucket."

The handle of the bucket was in his hand, his knuckles white from gripping it too hard.

"Go to the bathroom."

It wasn’t until he reached the doorway of the bathroom that he finally regained control. He wrenched himself back, collapsing to the floor in defiance. "Stop it!" he screamed, clutching his head. "Stop controlling me!"

“I’m not controlling you, Naruto. This is all you.”

He shook his head, disbelief flooding him. "You’re lying! I’m not stupid—I know you're trying to frame me!" His voice was raw with desperation as he glanced toward the dark glass of the washing machine, as if fearing what he’d see reflected there.

"Naruto, whether we did it or not doesn’t matter. What matters is cleaning this up."

The word “we” stuck in his mind, twisting his stomach. "What do you mean we? I didn’t do this!" But he could already feel the familiar tightness in his gut, a pain like molten lead burning his insides, the same agony he’d felt before.

“Calm yourself, Naruto,” the voice urged, and despite his fury, he tried to steady his breath, anything to stave off that horrid pain.

“If you don’t want to feel that again, you’ll listen to me.”

Jaw clenched, he pushed himself up from the floor, gripping the bucket like a lifeline. Plugging his nose, he forced himself to step toward the bathroom, the acrid smell only worsening as he moved closer.

"Open the washer."

Hesitating, he pulled open the door. The gruesome sight from earlier was still there, unchanged—the bloated head, the severed fingers, all stained dark and grotesque. His hand shook, his body fighting him with every fiber of his being.

"I can’t do this!" he cried, letting the bucket clatter to the floor. He pressed his hands to his temples, his head pounding like it was splitting apart.

“Naruto, they’ll kill us.”

A pause. The words hung in the air, heavy and chilling.

"I’d rather die than do this," he whispered, voice barely audible.

“We’ll be locked up and tortured.”

The silence that followed was suffocating. Naruto could feel himself unraveling, but a grim acceptance settled over him. He knew, as much as he hated to admit it, that the voice was right. If anyone found him with Ebisu’s mangled body here, he’d face interrogation, possibly even death. Torture. Just the thought sent a shiver down his spine.

“I think you finally understand,” the voice murmured. “Now, place the head in the bucket and remove the body.”

With a deep, shuddering breath, he obeyed, his hand reaching into the washer to lift the bloated, lifeless head. It slid into the bucket with a sickening thud, and his stomach roiled, the urge to vomit rising as he emptied the machine of the dismembered, mutilated remains.

When he laid the body on the tiles, his breath caught. Ebisu’s shirt was missing, revealing deep, jagged gashes across his chest. Naruto noticed symmetrical cuts on both arms, the wounds so precise they looked intentional, like carvings. His vision blurred, nausea creeping in.

“I can’t… I feel sick… I—I can’t do this anymore.” His voice was barely above a whisper, but his tears refused to fall, his body refusing to let him break down.

“Then I will.”

And in an instant, everything went dark.

"Naruto!" A cheerful voice called from behind him. Sakura approached, her eyes narrowing as she took in the contents of his basket.

“What’ve you got in there?” She leaned over, inspecting the cleaning supplies he held—bleach, hydrogen peroxide, vinegar, baking soda, gloves, garbage bags.

Naruto blinked, his brain scrambling to catch up. How had he ended up here? He could barely remember leaving his apartment, let alone reaching the store. But then it clicked—the voice. It had brought him here, as if on autopilot.

"Oh, uh… found some mold behind my fridge," he replied, trying to sound casual. The excuse sounded flimsy even to his own ears, so he quickly added, “And I figured I’d stock up on supplies while I’m at it.” He forced a smile.

Sakura gave him a long, scrutinizing look, but only shrugged. “Oh, okay.” She wandered back to her own shopping, seemingly unbothered.

Naruto released a shaky breath as she left. Playing it cool was his only option right now. He couldn’t afford any suspicions—not until he figured out what was happening to him.

Once Sakura turned the corner, she subtly waved over Sasuke, who had been lingering two aisles away, keeping a careful eye on Naruto.

"So, what did he have in his basket?" Sasuke asked, a flicker of worry crossing his face.

“Just cleaning stuff—bleach, garbage bags, a few other things. Said he had mold.” Sakura shrugged.

Sasuke’s frown deepened. Mold? Something didn’t add up. Naruto had been acting erratic, out of character. He could brush it off as stress, but this… it was like watching a stranger. No, he wouldn’t leave this alone. Whatever Naruto was going through, he’d figure it out. He needed his friend—his brother—back.

"I’ll get to the bottom of this," he muttered with determination, following Naruto as he left the store.

Sweat beaded on Naruto’s forehead as he hurried home, weaving through narrow streets, his mind spiraling. The whole situation felt surreal, like he was trapped in someone else’s nightmare. He’d thought he heard someone calling after him, but he ignored it. Right now, he needed to get back to his apartment, to face whatever waited for him there.

When he finally returned, he braced himself, glancing around for the body. It had been in front of the washing machine… but now, it was gone.

“Where did you put it?” he demanded into the empty room, his voice a strained whisper.

“If you think about it hard enough, you’ll remember,” the voice replied from somewhere behind him, taunting, almost bored.

Naruto clenched his fists, resisting the urge to lash out at the invisible presence. “This isn’t me who did this, and you know it,” he hissed.

Silence.

“I would never kill anyone,” he insisted, voice trembling. “Everyone knows that.”

The voice chuckled, an eerie sound that echoed around the room.

“Then why is the body here, in your apartment?”

Naruto’s nails dug into his palms, frustration mixing with dread. “I’ve been framed!” he yelled, feeling his control slipping. “The shadow—this thing that’s haunting me—it’s the one doing this!”

A quiet chuckle drifted through the air.

"You are the shadow, Naruto."

He froze, heart pounding, fists unclenching as a wave of horror washed over him.

“What… what did you say?”

The voice was calm, almost gentle.

“You are the shadow. You’ve known it all along, haven’t you?”

“N-no! You’re lying!” Naruto stammered, fighting to hold onto any shred of sanity. “You’re trying to frame me. Manipulate me!”

The voice sighed, its tone sympathetic yet mocking.

“Why would I frame myself?”

A chilling clarity cut through his panic, and his mind went blank. He couldn’t bring himself to refute it. He’d felt the voice clawing at the edges of his mind, felt its whispers. It was him.

“W-what are you talking about?” His voice barely escaped his throat.

The voice took a long pause, and when it spoke again, it was calm, unyielding.

“I’m you, Naruto.”

Everything went silent, and Naruto could only stare, his world unraveling one thought at a time.

Chapter Text

Hunger. 

Hunger was the sole sensation the shattered boy could still feel. Everything else had slipped away into a haze of numbness. His arms, legs, torso, every inch of his body were devoid of sensation. Naruto had been in the same position for more than 48 hours, curled up on his small, long outgrown twin bed. His thoughts drifted aimlessly, each one shrouded in fog, making time feel endless and reality blurred. Nothing seemed to make sense anymore.

It had been two and a half days since he discovered Ebisu’s lifeless body. The image burned itself into his mind, playing on a loop behind his eyes. Luckily, the incident had happened on a Friday, giving him the excuse of a weekend to retreat from the world, an invisible buffer to hide his absence. It felt justified at first, but now it was Monday afternoon, and the gnawing thought that he had a mission waiting hadn’t even breached the surface of his consciousness. Guilt hung over him like a storm cloud, a crushing weight that made him sick. He didn’t even know how to begin processing what he felt, and in some way, he didn’t want to.

Throughout the weekend, the voice, the constant presence in his mind had gone unsettlingly quiet. After days of heated, one-sided arguments between him and the voice, it had abruptly fallen silent. Naruto wasn’t sure if he was relieved or disturbed by the sudden stillness. He had never wanted the voice there, but without it, everything felt far too quiet, far too empty.

Each tick of the clock, every growl his stomach let out, the shallow rise and fall of his own breath—Naruto could hear it all, magnified by the silence. The sounds pressed in on him, and they made him sick. The hunger clawed at him, but even that was drowned out by the overpowering sense of void. The room was suffocating, the air too heavy, and yet he couldn’t find the will to move.

Just as the weight of exhaustion began to pull him under, his mind teetering on the edge of unconsciousness, a sharp knock echoed through his bare apartment. The sound cut through the oppressive stillness like a blade, startling him from the fog that had gripped him for two days straight. His eyes snapped open, heart pounding in his chest as the trance he’d been held captive by dissolved in an instant. For a brief, disorienting moment, he wasn’t sure if the knock had been real or some cruel trick of his exhausted mind.

Naruto blinked, his thoughts sluggish as they tried to catch up with reality. The knocking continued, steady and unrelenting, bouncing off the empty walls of his apartment. Each knock felt like a jarring reminder that time hadn’t stopped just because his world had. He stared at the door, feeling an odd sense of detachment, as if his body no longer belonged to him, as if getting up to answer it required a strength he simply didn’t possess. Yet, whoever stood on the other side wasn’t going away.

For the first time in days, he was forced to acknowledge that there was still a world outside his head, a world that refused to let him disappear into himself. 

“Naruto.” Kakashi’s voice filtered through the wooden door, calm but firm, slightly muffled by the barrier between them. “I’m just checking in on you. Can you please answer the door?”

The sound of his sensei’s voice stirred something deep within Naruto, a flicker of familiarity in the fog. It wasn’t just the words, but the steady, grounding tone that seemed to cut through the suffocating silence around him. Kakashi’s calm, unhurried manner had always brought him a strange sense of comfort, even in the most chaotic of times. Now, it was like a lifeline—one that Naruto didn’t fully realize he needed until that very moment.

He stared at the door for a long second, his mind sluggishly processing what to do next. A part of him wanted to ignore it, to retreat further into the void where no one could reach him, but the warmth in Kakashi’s voice tugged at him, gently pulling him back to the surface. Slowly, almost mechanically, Naruto reached for the door handle. His fingers felt cold against the metal, trembling slightly as he curled them around the knob. It took more effort than it should have to twist it and pull the door open.

As the door creaked, revealing the familiar figure of Kakashi, Naruto didn’t say anything. He simply stood there, gripping the door, feeling the weight of Kakashi’s gaze fall on him. He knew he must’ve looked terrible—his clothes wrinkled and disheveled, his hair messier than usual, dark circles etched under his eyes, and a hollow emptiness in his expression.

Kakashi’s visible eye took in Naruto’s appearance with quiet understanding. He didn’t need to ask what was wrong; the signs were all there, clear as day. Yet Kakashi said nothing about it. He didn’t flinch, didn’t frown. He simply stood there, his presence calm and unwavering, as if saying, I’m here. And somehow, that was enough. 

“Kakashi-sensei…” Naruto’s voice came out as a hoarse whisper, barely audible. He had so much he wanted to say, so many thoughts and emotions tangled inside him, begging to escape. Words hovered on the edge of his tongue, heavy with the weight of everything he had been carrying for weeks, but they refused to form. The sharp, aching lump lodged in the back of his throat made it impossible to speak.

“I… uhm—” he tried again, but it was too late. The dam broke. Before he could stop it, a flood of tears spilled down his cheeks, hot and unrelenting. Every ounce of emotion he had bottled up, grief, confusion, guilt, fear, everything rushed to the surface, refusing to be held back any longer. His whole body trembled as sobs wracked him, his chest tight with the weight of it all. His face felt flushed, burning under the intensity of his tears, while his limbs ached with exhaustion, as if the very act of standing was too much to bear.

Kakashi stood silently, his heart breaking as he watched Naruto unravel before him. He had seen Naruto go through many struggles, but this was different. This was raw, unchecked pain—pain that had festered for too long. He could see just how much Naruto was suffering, and it tore at him in ways he couldn’t fully express. For all of his strength, all of his wisdom, there were moments like this when Kakashi wished he had the right words, something to fix the pain Naruto was in. But no words would suffice—not now. 

Kakashi knew better than to try to stop the boy’s tears. Instead, he stepped forward, closing the distance between them, and wrapped Naruto in a firm, reassuring embrace. One arm around his shoulders, the other gently cradling the back of Naruto’s head. Pulling him close, he allowed the boy to cry into his chest.

Naruto’s hands fumbled for something to hold onto, gripping the fabric of Kakashi’s vest as if it were the only thing keeping him tethered to reality. His sobs were desperate, his body trembling violently as he clung to his sensei. The fear and confusion he had buried for days erupted in waves, shaking him to his core. But slowly, Kakashi’s steady presence, his silent promise of safety, began to ease the turmoil inside him. The sobs gradually softened, turning into quiet, breathless whimpers.

Kakashi said nothing, just held him tighter, his heart aching for the boy who had endured far too much. As Naruto’s cries began to die down, his body sagged in Kakashi’s arms, utterly drained. The adrenaline that had kept him upright for so long was finally wearing off, leaving behind nothing but exhaustion. His eyelids fluttered, his breathing slowing as his grip on Kakashi’s vest loosened.

“Naruto?” Kakashi whispered softly, but the boy didn’t respond. The warmth of Kakashi’s embrace and the release of all the pent-up emotions had taken their toll. Naruto’s body slumped further, his legs giving out beneath him.

With a gentle but firm hold, Kakashi picked Naruto up, his arms cradling the boy as he slipped into unconsciousness. His breathing was deep and even now, a stark contrast to the violent sobs from just moments before. 

The boy had finally passed out, his body and mind completely spent. Kakashi’s heart clenched, but he was relieved in a way, Naruto needed the rest, needed to let go of the burden he’d been carrying alone. The overwhelming weight of it all had finally caught up with him. 

Kakashi let out a heavy, almost weary sigh as he held Naruto’s limp body in his arms. The weight of the boy, both physically and emotionally, pressed heavily on him. He stared down at Naruto’s pale face, streaked with dried tears, and felt his heart ache in a way it hadn’t in years. The boy was so young—too young to be carrying this kind of pain. Kakashi knew exactly where he had to take him, but the thought of it gnawed at him.

The hospital. It was the last place Naruto would want to go, and Kakashi knew that all too well. Naruto had always been fiercely independent, never wanting to rely on others or show weakness. The very thought of being seen in a hospital bed, vulnerable and broken, would likely shatter what little strength the boy had left. But Kakashi didn’t have a choice. Naruto needed help, whether he wanted to admit it or not. His body had given up on him, and Kakashi couldn’t stand by and let him continue to suffer like this.

“Damn it…” Kakashi muttered under his breath, tightening his grip on Naruto, as if silently apologizing for what he had to do. He was no stranger to pain, loss, and despair, but seeing it in someone as young as Naruto, someone who had already suffered so much, made it all the harder. Kakashi hesitated for just a moment longer, his gaze lingering on Naruto’s sleeping face.

He didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to see the boy in a sterile hospital room, hooked up to machines, surrounded by reminders of his vulnerability. Kakashi hated hospitals, hated the cold, clinical atmosphere that always seemed to drain the life out of people. But what choice did he have? Naruto needed rest, real rest, and the hospital was the safest place for him right now.

With a single breath, Kakashi made his decision. In an instant, he disappeared from the dim, quiet apartment, the faint echo of his sigh still hanging in the air. The world around him blurred as he reappeared on the darkened streets of Konoha, cradling Naruto in his arms like a wounded bird. His movements were swift and precise, the shadows of the village flickering around him as he made his way to the hospital.

The night air was cool, and the streets were mostly empty, save for a few late-night wanderers. Kakashi moved silently, blending into the darkness like a ghost. With each step, the weight of what had just happened pressed heavier on his shoulders. He had seen Naruto fight through so much, but this was different. This was the kind of pain that didn’t heal with time, the kind that left deep, invisible scars.

The hospital came into view, its bright lights stark against the night sky, standing as a looming reminder of what awaited them. Kakashi’s stomach twisted at the sight. He had spent too many nights in places like this, watching as comrades and loved ones lay between life and death. And now, Naruto, a boy who had so much life left in him, was being brought here, broken in ways that no one could fully understand.

As he approached the entrance, Kakashi could already hear the faint murmur of voices from inside, the shuffle of feet, the distant beeping of machines. The sterile smell of antiseptic wafted through the air as the automatic doors slid open, flooding him with memories he’d rather forget. He didn’t hesitate, though. Naruto needed this.

Inside, the hospital was quiet, save for a few late-night nurses moving through the corridors. Kakashi approached the front desk, his voice low and steady as he explained the situation. The nurse on duty immediately recognized the urgency, her eyes widening as she took in Naruto’s condition. Within moments, a stretcher was brought over, and Kakashi reluctantly lowered Naruto onto it, feeling a pang in his chest as he released the boy from his protective hold.

Kakashi watched as they wheeled Naruto away, his body slack and peaceful in unconsciousness. For a moment, he just stood there, his gaze fixed on the retreating stretcher as it disappeared around the corner. He could still feel the warmth of Naruto’s weight in his arms, a ghostly reminder of the responsibility that rested on him.

He let out another sigh, this one quieter, more resigned. There was nothing more he could do for the moment, and that helplessness weighed heavily on him. He had done his part. Now, all that was left was to wait and hope that Naruto could find some measure of peace here, even if it was within the cold walls of a hospital.

As Kakashi walked out of the hospital, the cool night air greeted him, but it did little to clear the heaviness in his mind. He couldn’t help but wonder what had pushed Naruto to such a breaking point. What had gnawed at him so relentlessly, eating him up from the inside until it caused this emotional collapse? Kakashi had seen Naruto endure hardship after hardship, facing every challenge with determination and grit, but this was different. Something deeper was tearing at him.

Kakashi’s thoughts churned as he replayed the past few weeks in his mind, searching for any clues he might have missed. He didn’t want to pry into Naruto’s private life, he respected the boy’s independence too much for that, but seeing him like this, utterly broken, left Kakashi no choice. Something was terribly wrong, and as his sensei, it was his responsibility to find out what it was.

No matter how much Naruto tried to hide it, Kakashi knew there was a storm raging beneath the surface, and it was only a matter of time before it consumed him completely. Kakashi clenched his fists, a quiet resolve forming within him. He would uncover what was haunting his student, no matter how far he had to go or what lengths he had to take.

Naruto had carried this burden alone for too long, and Kakashi wasn’t going to let him continue suffering in silence. Whatever, or whoever, had caused this, he would find out, and he would make sure Naruto didn’t have to face it alone.

Because that is his duty as his sensei. 

Chapter Text

Naruto’s eyelids fluttered open, the bright, sterile light of the hospital room making him wince. He blinked, trying to adjust, his mind still foggy and disoriented. As he stirred, he tried to sit up, but something held him back. Confused, he glanced down and realized that his wrists and ankles were bound to the bed with soft restraints, keeping him securely in place.

A surge of panic rose in his chest, and he instinctively tugged at the bindings, his heart rate spiking. What was going on? He yanked against the restraints, but they held firm. His breathing quickened, each breath sharp and ragged, as his mind scrambled to piece together how he had ended up here. The last thing he could recall was Kakashi at his apartment door, the weight of the world collapsing on him in his sensei’s arms.

Just as his panic was about to overwhelm him, the door to his room swung open. Tsunade entered first, her expression a mix of worry and determination, followed closely by Shizune, who held a clipboard and looked equally concerned. Kakashi entered last, his gaze steady, his face unreadable behind his mask but his single visible eye soft with concern. The sight of them stopped Naruto’s struggling; he felt himself relax slightly, though his heart still pounded. 

What if they find out?

“Naruto,” Tsunade said, her voice gentle but firm. She approached his bedside, her gaze scanning his face, noting the fear lingering in his eyes. “Please, don’t panic. You’re in the hospital. We had to restrain you to keep you from accidentally hurting yourself while you were unconscious.”

Naruto swallowed hard, the remnants of his panic ebbing away as he took in her words. He hadn’t realized just how exhausted he felt, how heavy his limbs were, now that the initial shock had passed. Still, the shame of being bound to the bed gnawed at him. He felt pathetic.

“We’re here because we’re worried about you, Naruto,” Tsunade continued, her tone softer now. She exchanged a quick glance with Kakashi, then looked back at him. “You were found in a very... vulnerable state, and we need to understand what happened. We want to help you, Naruto.”

Shizune took a step forward, offering him a reassuring smile. “It’s okay, Naruto,” she said softly, her eyes warm. “You don’t have to talk if you’re not ready, but we’re here to listen if you feel up to it.”

Naruto’s gaze flickered to Kakashi, who stood quietly at the foot of the bed. His sensei’s usual calm demeanor was tinged with a hint of sadness, a quiet understanding that almost seemed to reach Naruto in a way that words couldn’t. Kakashi gave him a slight nod, his unspoken support encouraging Naruto to speak.

Naruto’s throat tightened, and he glanced away, his mind racing with everything he had been trying so hard to keep buried. The nightmares, the murders, the dead bodies, Ebisu— they all pressed in on him, suffocating in their intensity. He struggled to find the words, feeling too vulnerable under the weight of their concerned stares, but also, for the first time, he didn’t feel so alone.

Taking a shaky breath, Naruto opened his mouth, the words tentative but sincere. 

“I… I didn’t mean for things to get like this,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “I just… it’s been so much, and I didn’t know how to handle it. I thought I could deal with it on my own.”

Tsunade reached out, resting a gentle hand on his arm. “Whatever it is, you don’t have to face it alone. We’re here to help you, Naruto. All of us.”

Naruto’s gaze shifted back to Kakashi, who was watching him with quiet intensity, his expression offering a silent promise: whatever was haunting him, Kakashi wasn’t going anywhere. For the first time, Naruto felt the smallest flicker of hope, a warmth that began to chip away at the wall he had built around himself.

He wasn’t sure where to begin, or if he could even put everything that was happening into words, but as he looked at the people surrounding him—his allies, his mentors—he knew he didn’t have to face it alone. And that realization, however small, was enough to make him believe that maybe, just maybe, he could find a way through this after all. 

“Ok..um..I.. I’ll tell you.. I just need some time..” Naruto squeaked out, his voice raspy.

Tsunade and Kakashi exchanged a look. Naruto could see the hope flicker in their eyes. But they didn’t press further. They stayed for a while longer, offering quiet reassurances, telling him that they’d be back, that he wasn’t alone, that he was stronger than he believed. But eventually, they left, giving him space, their absence leaving an emptiness that felt suffocating. 

“Don't fool yourself.” 

The words were sharp, sinister, dripping with disdain. Naruto’s breath hitched. The voice was back, louder than ever, slipping through the cracks of his mind like venom, wrapping itself around his thoughts.

For a fleeting moment, he’d felt a glimmer of peace, the warmth of support from the people around him. But now, as the voice seeped into his consciousness, it dragged him back down into darkness, one whispered word at a time. Every memory of the past couple weeks came flooding back, sharper and more ruthless than before: the bodies, the blood, Ebisu’s lifeless form. Images flickered in his mind like fragments of a broken film reel, too vivid and horrifying to ignore. He had been clinging to hope, to the idea that maybe this could be fixed, that he wasn’t beyond help. But the voice shattered that illusion without mercy.

“Did you really think they could help you?” It chuckled, each word stinging the boy. “You’re the one responsible, Naruto. You killed them. You let the darkness in, and now it’s a part of you. You are the shadow. ”

Naruto’s heart pounded, each beat rattling against his ribs as if trying to escape his own chest. He wanted to scream, to argue, to tell the voice it was wrong—that he wasn’t capable of such things, that there had to be another explanation. But a deeper, darker part of him knew that the voice was right. He hadn’t just seen those deaths; he’d felt them. Every scream, every gasp of pain, every ounce of horror was embedded in his memory. He had tried to believe it was something else—a nightmare, a twisted illusion, something separate from himself.

But the truth was undeniable. The shadow, the voice, the blood on his hands… it was all him.

“Stop fighting it,” The voice whispered. “You’re lying to yourself, clinging to this pathetic idea that you’re still innocent. But you know better, don’t you? You know what you’ve done.”

Naruto’s head sank into his hands, his fingers tangling in his hair, pulling as if he could somehow tear the voice out of his mind. His stomach churned with disgust and self-loathing, the weight of his guilt pressing down until he could barely breathe. Every fiber of his being screamed to deny it, to reject the notion that he was the monster haunting him. But he couldn’t escape the truth anymore; the memories were too vivid, too real. He was the one who had taken those lives. It hadn’t been some external darkness, some monster lurking in the shadows. It was him. He had done it.

Tears stung his eyes, blurring his vision as he struggled to stay composed, his chest heaving with barely restrained sobs. For the first time, he felt the full, unfiltered impact of his actions, like a wound reopening, fresh and raw. He had tried to run from it, to bury it in denial, but now it was clawing its way back to the surface, demanding to be acknowledged. He had shut down, withdrawing from everyone, letting himself wither away in his apartment, hoping that if he stayed silent, if he made himself invisible, he could escape the truth. But there was no escaping himself.

“We have to live with this, Naruto. This is the result of our actions.” The voice was soft just barely above a whisper.

A shudder ran through him, and he clenched his fists, nails biting into his palms until they left half-moon marks on his skin. He had wanted to be a hero, someone people could look up to, someone who could make a difference. But what good was any of that if he couldn’t even control himself? What good was his strength if it only led to destruction?

Naruto’s shoulders sagged as the weight of the voice’s words settled over him, pulling him deeper into despair. He had tried so hard to be better, to be someone his friends could be proud of, someone who could protect the village. But now, as the reality of his actions sank in, he saw himself for what he truly was: a danger, a liability, someone who couldn’t be trusted—not even with himself. 

A true monster.

“If only they knew,” The voice murmured. “If they knew what we’d done, they’d see us for the monster we are. They’d lock us away, keep us away from everyone you care about. We’re better off gone huh?” The voice chuckled slightly.

Naruto's heart clenched, a hollow ache settling in his chest. He didn’t want to believe it, didn’t want to give in to the voice’s twisted logic. But deep down, he feared it was right. He was a threat, a burden to those who cared about him. And perhaps, it would be better if he simply disappeared—if he took himself out of the equation before he hurt anyone else.

Tsunade’s words echoed faintly in his mind, a distant, fragile memory: “We’re here to help you, Naruto.” But as the voice drowned out everything else, even those words seemed meaningless. He could feel the walls closing in, suffocating him in silence, his own thoughts turning against him.

Maybe, he thought, his gaze sinking to the floor, maybe this is the only way to keep them safe.

And in that dark, crushing silence, Naruto was left alone with the voice—left to wrestle with the guilt, the shame, and the cold, unyielding truth that he could no longer ignore. 

He couldn’t take it anymore. Everything was just too much. He felt suffocated in his own mind. Desperate to escape, Naruto dragged himself out of bed, pulling free from the restraints with trembling hands. He moved to the bathroom, his body heavy with exhaustion, his mind swirling with despair. When he reached the sink, he looked up and met his own reflection. The boy staring back at him was barely recognizable, his face pale and hollow, his eyes sunken and empty.

“Look at you. You’re a mess,” The voice commented, its tone cold and unchanging. “You’re unrecognizable.”

The words broke something deep within him, and before he could stop himself, his fist shot out, smashing against the mirror. The glass cracked under the impact, shattering into jagged pieces, and one shard fell into the sink, glinting under the bathroom light.

He stared down at it, his breathing ragged. The pain, the guilt, the shame—it all felt inescapable. He reached for the shard, his fingers trembling as he held it, his mind numbing to everything else. 

“Wait. What are you doing? ”

The voice started to panic, for the first time. it words, louder than ever, until he couldn’t tell where the voice ended and his own thoughts began. 

“Naruto what are you doing!? Stop right now!”

But in that dark moment, a small thought flickered through the haze: the memory of Kakashi’s hand on his shoulder, Tsunade’s soft words, the worry in Shizune’s eyes. They had come to see him, even when he had pushed them away. They had cared enough to try to reach him. His hand froze, the shard shaking in his grasp.

“Yes, Naruto. Put it down. Think logically,” the voice said, regaining its cruel composure, its tone dripping with twisted satisfaction.

That was it. That sneer in its voice. The arrogance. It was always in control, always manipulating him, driving him to the edge, only to pull him back and keep him trapped in this relentless nightmare. Naruto’s hands trembled, the shard of glass catching the light as he held it tight, his knuckles white with strain. He didn’t want to give the voice that satisfaction anymore. He was done letting it control him, done bending to its every command.

No more.

“No.” He said, his voice a low, fierce whisper. “I’m not listening to you anymore.” His grip on the shard tightened, his hand shaking with the strength of his conviction. “You did this to me! You made me do all these fucked up things, made me doubt myself. But if I’m not here… then neither are you!”

“No Naruto! Stop!!” The voice shrieked, desperate. It sensed its power slipping.

But Naruto was past listening. With one swift, decisive movement, he plunged the shard into his chest. Pain exploded through him, searing and raw, stealing the breath from his lungs. Blood blossomed across his chest, spreading out in dark, warm rivulets that soaked through his gown, staining his skin in stark contrast. The shard slipped from his fingers, clattering into the sink, the sharp edge now out of reach, a faint echo in the sterile bathroom.

He staggered, his vision blurring as he sank to the floor, his body sagging against the cold tile. His breaths came in ragged gasps, each inhale harder than the last, his chest heaving as he fought for air. The once-clean, white tiles around him were stained a horrific crimson, the sight almost surreal. Somewhere in the distance, he could faintly hear hurried footsteps, the frantic sound of people bursting into the room. He thought he caught the sound of Tsunade’s choked sobs, her voice breaking as she called his name, but it felt so far away, like an echo in a dream.

As his vision dimmed, the world began to slip into darkness, wrapping him in a cold, quiet void. All he could think about, as his consciousness faded, was how peaceful it felt. The voice had gone silent, finally defeated, leaving him alone in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time. And with that silence, a small, fragile hope emerged.

They’re safe now, he thought, his last coherent thought a wish that his friends, his mentors—everyone he cared about—could finally be free from the danger he’d become.

Chapter Text

The streets of Konoha were quieter than usual, cloaked in an uneasy tension that Sasuke couldn’t ignore. The usual chatter of vendors and passersby had turned into hushed murmurs, shadowed glances, and whispered speculations. The air felt heavier, as though the village itself held its breath, waiting for something to happen.

Rumors had a way of spreading like wildfire, even in a village as disciplined as Konoha. Ebisu’s sudden disappearance had already lit the first spark, but Naruto’s abrupt hospitalization had thrown gasoline on the fire. People didn’t need all the details to start weaving their stories, and Sasuke had overheard enough fragments to know that there was something missing. Naruto had been acting way too strange prior to this for it to be a simple coincidence. The timing of Ebisu’s disappearance and Naruto’s hospitalization was too conveniently placed. It felt off.

He clenched his jaw, his pace quickening.

The hospital loomed ahead, its sterile white exterior bathed in the dim glow of the setting sun. Sasuke had no reason to be here—not officially, anyway. Naruto hadn’t asked for visitors. In fact, he hadn’t said much of anything lately, not to him, not to anyone. But that was exactly what bothered Sasuke the most. Naruto wasn’t the type to stay silent, especially not when things were falling apart. And right now, everything was falling apart.

As he neared the hospital, snippets of conversation reached his ears, carried on the crisp evening air.

“...another one, seven years ago, can you believe it? The same marks...” A short lady whispered to her friend.

“They’re saying it’s the same killer. All this time, hiding right under our noses.” Her friend replied, worry laced in each whisper.

“Poor girl... she was only six back then. How awful… and now Ebisu-sensei…” The short lady continued.

Sasuke’s steps faltered. He turned his head slightly, spotting two women standing near the entrance of a small bakery. Their voices were low, but the urgency in their whispers made them impossible to ignore.

“They said she was found in the forest, didn’t they? I wonder why no one is bringing attention to this..” The friend scrunched her face in disapproval.

“Seven years, and no one even realized. It’s terrifying, really….” The short lady replied. Grabbing her friend's arm they both entered the pawn shop, failing to notice the attentive listener that had been trailing behind them. 

Sasuke’s eyes narrowed. Seven years? He hadn’t heard anything about a murder from that long ago, let alone one connected to the recent killings. If these rumors were true, this wasn’t some new threat—it was something far older, far more insidious. And if it had taken this long to resurface, who knew what it was capable of?

He shook his head, forcing himself to focus. He didn’t have time to dwell on half-heard gossip. Right now, his priority was Naruto. The idiot had a knack for getting himself into trouble, and Sasuke wasn’t about to let him face it alone—whatever it was.

Slipping into the hospital was easier than he expected. The staff were preoccupied, their attention divided between their usual duties and the heightened security measures put in place since the murders began. Sasuke moved quickly, keeping to the shadows, his footsteps silent against the polished floors. He had memorized Naruto’s room number from Sakura’s earlier offhand remark, and now he made his way there with practiced precision.

The whispers still lingered in his mind, though, refusing to be dismissed. Seven years. A six-year-old girl. The same marks. He couldn’t shake the feeling that this was all connected somehow, that maybe Naruto knew more than he was letting on. And if that was the case, Sasuke needed answers—before it was too late.

When he reached Naruto’s hallway, he paused. His eyes caught a clipboard hanging from the wall outside the room. It was standard procedure for medical staff to leave patient information there, but Sasuke hadn’t intended to look—until a word written in bold letters jumped out at him.

“Suicide Watch”

Sasuke’s breath hitched. He ripped the clipboard off the wall, his dark eyes scanning the details. The notes were brief but damning.

“Patient has exhibited signs of severe emotional distress. Self-isolation. Unprompted outbursts. Expressed feelings of worthlessness. High-risk behaviors. Placed on 24-hour suicide watch for 2 weeks as a precaution.”

The clipboard trembled slightly in his hands. Sasuke didn’t need to read further. His mind reeled. Naruto? The same idiot who screamed about wanting to be Hokage at the top of his lungs? The boy who always grinned like nothing in the world could ever get him down? Suicide watch? No..

He didn’t know how long he stood there, staring blankly at the clipboard, trying to reconcile the words in front of him with the Naruto he thought he knew. When he finally forced himself to move, his hand hovered over the doorknob, hesitation freezing him in place.

What the hell is going on with you, Naruto?

The answer lay on the other side of the door, but for the first time in years, Sasuke felt unprepared. Shaking off the hesitation, he turned the knob and stepped inside.

Naruto lay on the bed, his face pale against the crisp white sheets. For a moment, Sasuke was struck by how still he looked, so unlike the loud, hyperactive boy he knew. But even in the quiet, there was a tension in Naruto’s expression, a shadow that hadn’t been there before.

Sasuke leaned against the wall, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. He studied Naruto for a moment, taking in his pale face and the dark circles under his eyes. His voice softened, though he still tried to sound casual. “You look like crap.”

Naruto’s eyes fluttered open, slow and heavy, as if even that small action drained him. He turned his head just enough to glance at Sasuke, but his gaze didn’t quite meet him. “Heh. Thanks,” he rasped, his voice barely audible. “Always nice to see you too.”

The weak attempt at humor fell flat, and Sasuke felt a pang of something unfamiliar—concern. His eyes flicked down to the restraints loosely fastened at the edges of the bed. They weren’t being used, but their presence was unmistakable. His stomach churned.

“...Naruto.” His tone was quieter now, almost hesitant. “Why are you on suicide watch?”

Naruto’s faint smirk faltered, his expression tightening. For a long moment, he didn’t say anything. Then he let out a hollow laugh, one that didn’t even reach his eyes. 

“Oh, that? Don’t worry about it. It’s just a precaution. They always overreact about stuff like this.” His words came out flat, like he was reciting a line he didn’t believe.

Sasuke frowned, stepping closer to the bed. “Don’t do that,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “Don’t brush it off like it’s nothing, you’re not the type of person to be on suicide watch.”

Naruto didn’t respond. His gaze drifted toward the window, staring blankly at the fading light of the evening. His hand twitched against the sheets, his fingers curling slightly as though he was trying to ground himself. The silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating.

Sasuke sat down in the chair beside the bed, his voice dropping even lower. “Naruto… talk to me. What’s going on?”

Naruto’s lips parted as if to speak, but no words came out. His chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, his hands gripping the blanket now. Finally, he whispered, 

“You wouldn’t get it.”

“Then explain it to me.” Sasuke’s words were gentle, but there was a quiet determination in them. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

Naruto swallowed hard, his throat bobbing as he fought to keep his composure. “You don’t need to be here. You shouldn’t.” His voice cracked slightly, and he turned his face away, as if ashamed. “I’m fine. You should just go.”

“You’re not fine.” Sasuke leaned forward, his voice steady but filled with an urgency he rarely let show. “You’re in the hospital, on suicide watch, with restraints on your bed. You’re not okay, Naruto. And that’s… that’s okay. But you have to let someone help you.”

Naruto stayed silent, his face still turned away. His breathing was uneven, and Sasuke could see the faint tremble in his shoulders. After what felt like an eternity, Naruto finally spoke, his voice so quiet Sasuke had to strain to hear it.

“I don’t know how to stop it,” he murmured, his words barely more than a breath. “I keep seeing it, hearing it… and no one else can. No one else understands. I can’t… I can’t make it stop.”

Sasuke’s hands tightened into fists, a surge of frustration and helplessness washing over him. He didn’t know what “it” was, but whatever Naruto was facing, it was eating him alive. 

“Then let me try to understand,” Sasuke said, his tone almost pleading. “You don’t have to do this alone, Naruto.”

Naruto finally turned his head slightly, just enough to glance at Sasuke out of the corner of his eye. His gaze was heavy, raw, and fractured—like the last fragile shards of a shattered mirror barely holding together. Sasuke felt a jolt in his chest, a pang of something he rarely allowed himself to acknowledge: fear. He’d never seen Naruto look this… broken.

“I’m fine, Sasuke.” Naruto’s voice was barely above a whisper, the hoarse edge making it sound more like a warning than reassurance. 

“Now I need you to leave.”

Sasuke froze. The words hit him harder than they should have, not because of what Naruto said, but how he said it. The warmth that Naruto always carried, even at his lowest, was gone. His tone was hollow, detached, like a door slamming shut in Sasuke’s face.

In the blink of an eye, Naruto’s entire demeanor shifted. His trembling shoulders stilled, his breathing evened out, and his eyelids drooped slightly, as if the energy had been drained from his body. But it wasn’t peace that settled over him. It was something far darker.

This wasn’t Naruto.

It was as if something else had taken over, something cold and unfeeling. His presence, once chaotic and vibrant, was replaced by an oppressive weight that made Sasuke’s skin prickle.

“Naruto…?” Sasuke’s voice was uncertain now, the faintest trace of alarm creeping into his usually stoic tone.

“Go.”

The word was sharp and final, like the crack of a whip.

Sasuke’s breath caught in his throat as the atmosphere in the room shifted violently. It felt suffocating, heavy with malice that he couldn’t place. The air itself seemed to hum with an ominous energy, pressing down on him like an invisible force. His chest tightened, and for the first time in years, Sasuke found it hard to breathe.

He clenched his fists, trying to steady himself, but his body betrayed him, a slight tremor running through his hands. He wanted to argue, to demand answers, but the way Naruto’s shadow seemed to stretch unnaturally across the room stopped him cold.

“Sasuke.” Naruto’s voice was low, almost unrecognizable. It carried an edge of something primal, something dangerous. “Just. Leave.”

Sasuke swallowed hard, his instincts screaming at him to retreat, even as his heart urged him to stay. He stood up from the uncomfortable chair, his gaze locked onto Naruto’s face. He wasn’t sure if he was even looking at his teammate anymore. 

Stepping back from the bed, the door loomed behind him, but Sasuke hesitated. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but the oppressive energy surged, silencing him. Without another word, he turned and walked out, his pulse pounding in his ears.

As the door clicked shut behind him, Sasuke leaned against the wall, his head spinning. Whatever was happening to Naruto, it was way worse than he’d initially thought. This wasn’t a little case of the blues. This was detrimental. He had to do something. He had to save his friend. 

But the growing pit in his stomach was telling him..

It was too late.

A week had passed since Sasuke’s visit, and Naruto’s stay in the hospital had been agonizing. Every minute felt like an eternity, the sterile walls pressing in on him, the quiet punctuated only by nurses' footsteps and the occasional murmurs from outside his room. The only thing worse than the suffocating monotony was the knowledge that people were watching him—always watching, waiting for him to crack.

When he’d first suggested returning to his apartment, Kakashi and Iruka had exchanged worried glances, their hesitation clear. It had taken hours of convincing—promises that he was stable now, assurances that he needed to go home, needed normalcy.  After days of relentless persuasion and countless promises that he was “better now,” Naruto was finally allowed to return to his apartment, though under the careful watch of Kakashi and Iruka. He knew they didn’t trust him. Not fully. And he didn’t blame them.

The murders had stopped since he’d been hospitalized, something that didn’t escape the notice of the villagers or his caretakers. It was a blessing and a curse. On one hand, it meant fewer lives lost. On the other, it painted an invisible target on Naruto’s back, as if his absence had somehow scared the killer into submission.

The walk back to his apartment was quiet. Too quiet. Naruto walked between Kakashi and Iruka, their protective presences a reminder of how fragile they thought he was. Kakashi’s eyes scanned their surroundings, a calm but calculating expression on his face, while Iruka stayed close, making small talk in an effort to distract Naruto from his own spiraling thoughts. It didn’t work. Every step closer to his apartment felt heavier, as though the very air were pressing down on him.

As they approached the door to his apartment, his stomach churned violently. Every creak of the floor, every shadow in the dim light felt like a threat. His mind raced with paranoid thoughts. What if they found something? What if there was some shred of evidence he’d missed, something that could link him to Ebisu?

“Relax. No one will find anything. I’ve taken care of it.” The voice reassured him.

Naruto clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. He didn’t trust the voice, but he had no choice but to rely on its assurances.

They stepped inside. The apartment was exactly as he’d left it, messy, but not suspiciously so. The faint smell of ramen cups lingered in the air, mingling with the scent of cleaning supplies he’d frantically used before everything fell apart.

Kakashi entered, his sharp gaze sweeping across the room as if he expected to find something. Iruka followed, immediately wrinkling his nose at the mess. The apartment wasn’t filthy, but it was far from tidy. Empty ramen cups littered the small kitchen counter, and the trash can in the corner was perilously full.

“I’ll get this cleaned up,” Iruka said softly, already rolling up his sleeves.

“You don’t have to,” Naruto mumbled, his voice barely audible.

“It’s no trouble,” Iruka replied with a warm smile, though the lines of worry in his face didn’t disappear.

Kakashi leaned against the wall, pulling out his ever-present book, though Naruto noticed his eyes flickering to him more often than to the pages. It was subtle, but the scrutiny was there, unspoken yet palpable.

Naruto sat down on the couch, his hands gripping his knees as he tried to steady himself. The walls of the apartment felt like they were closing in on him. Every corner, every wall seemed to hold a secret, a threat. He could still feel the weight of Ebisu’s body, still see the crimson stain that had once spread across his bathroom floor.

“Calm Yourself,” the voice whispered, calm and insidious. “There’s nothing left to find.”

But Naruto couldn’t shake the fear. What if there was something he’d missed? Something they could uncover? He kept his head down, avoiding Kakashi’s sharp eyes and Iruka’s soft concern.

As the hours passed, Kakashi and Iruka made themselves at home. Iruka cleaned the kitchen, humming softly to himself, while Kakashi sat on the armchair, occasionally asking Naruto how he was feeling in that carefully measured tone. Their kindness was suffocating. Naruto appreciated it, but it made the guilt inside him burn hotter, sharper.

At some point, Iruka handed him a cup of tea, his expression so kind and understanding that Naruto had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from breaking down. He forced a small smile, murmuring a quiet “thank you” before taking a sip. Patting Nauto’s head, Iruka retreated back into the kitchen.

Naruto couldn’t take it anymore. He stood abruptly, muttering something about needing a moment, and retreated to the bathroom before either of them could stop him.

The moment the door clicked shut, his chest tightened. The memories hit him like a tidal wave.

His eyes darted around the small room, taking in the sink, the mirror, the shower. It all looked so ordinary now, so harmless. But he couldn’t stop seeing it the way it had been that night. Blood on the floor. The metallic smell, thick in the air. The sound of his own breathing, ragged and panicked as he tried to scrub away the evidence.

His hands gripped the edge of the sink, knuckles white. He stared at his reflection. The boy in the mirror. It wasn’t him. His breathing quickened, each gasp sharper than the last.

“Stop it,” the voice hissed, more forceful now. “You’re going to ruin everything. Get a grip.”

But he couldn’t. The memories were too vivid. The weight of everything he’d done—or let happen— it was all too much. His legs gave out, and he slid to the floor, his back against the cold tiles as his chest heaved.

A knock at the door pulled him from the spiral, though it did little to calm him.

“Naruto?” Iruka’s voice was soft, worried. “Are you okay?”

Naruto couldn’t answer. He couldn’t even breathe properly.

The door opened slowly, and Iruka stepped in, his expression shifting from concern to alarm as he took in the sight of Naruto on the floor. Kakashi appeared behind him, his normally lazy posture gone, replaced by tense alertness.

“Breathe,” Kakashi said, crouching down beside him. His voice was steady, calming. “In through your nose, out through your mouth. Focus on my voice.”

Iruka knelt in front of Naruto, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You’re safe. It’s okay. Just breathe. We’re here.”

Naruto tried to focus on their words, tried to ground himself in the warmth of Iruka’s hand and the steady tone of Kakashi’s voice. Slowly, the panic began to recede, leaving him drained and trembling.

Iruka stayed close, his hand never leaving Naruto’s shoulder. “You don’t have to do this alone,” he said quietly. “We’re here for you. Whatever you’re feeling, whatever’s going on—you can tell us.”

Naruto’s throat tightened, but he couldn’t bring himself to speak. He wanted to believe them, wanted to tell them everything, but the weight of his secrets kept his lips sealed.

For now, he nodded, letting their presence anchor him as he fought to keep himself from falling apart completely.

Chapter Text

Naruto sat curled up on his bed, knees drawn tightly to his chest, listening to the muffled voices of Kakashi and Iruka in the other room. They were speaking in hushed tones, their words too soft to make out, but he knew that tone well—careful, cautious, like they thought he might shatter if they spoke too loudly. Maybe they weren’t wrong.

He exhaled shakily, pressing his forehead against his arms. The apartment should have felt safer now that he was back, now that he wasn’t alone. But it didn’t. The walls felt too close, the air too thick. The stillness pressed in around him like a phantom weight, wrapping around his chest, squeezing, suffocating. He could almost hear it, something creeping in the silence, something watching from the shadows.

"You can’t run from this forever, you know."

Naruto flinched. The voice slithered through his mind, smooth and knowing, curling around his thoughts like poison. He clenched his hands into fists, nails biting into his palms.

"You’re only fooling yourself."

He squeezed his eyes shut. No. Not this time.

The voice had tormented him for weeks, twisting the truth, sinking its claws into his doubt, his guilt. It wanted him to believe he was the monster, that he was the one responsible for the horrors that had unfolded. But he wasn’t. He wasn’t.

Kakashi and Iruka believed in him. They didn’t look at him with suspicion, didn’t treat him like a criminal. If they thought he was innocent, then he had to be. The voice was wrong. It was always wrong.

"You saw what you did. You know the truth."

Naruto’s breath hitched. His stomach twisted violently, nausea curling in his throat. He shook his head, trying to drown it out, trying to push back the memories clawing at the edges of his mind.

He wasn’t the monster. He wasn’t the one hurting people.

But the voice only laughed.

"You really think they’d be here if they knew the truth?"

Naruto’s muscles tensed. 

"You can lie to yourself all you want, but you know what you did. What we did."

He clenched his jaw, shaking his head. “No.” His voice was barely a whisper. He hadn’t done anything. The voice—whatever it was—was the one responsible. Not him.

"Come on, Naruto. Do you really think you’re innocent? That this is all some tragic mistake?"

Yes.

"You killed him."

No.

"You enjoyed it."

“No,” Naruto hissed through gritted teeth, hands fisting in his sheets. He wouldn’t listen. Not anymore.

The voice chuckled, dark and amused. "They've coddled you too much. You’re starting to believe your own delusions."

Naruto squeezed his eyes shut. He wasn’t delusional. He wasn’t the monster here. Kakashi and Iruka had said so. They wouldn’t lie to him. He wasn’t responsible for this. He had suffered. He had been used. He was the victim.

The voice scoffed, its presence curling around him like smoke. "If that’s what helps you sleep at night, go ahead. Pretend. But deep down, you know the truth."

Naruto forced himself to take a slow, steady breath. He wouldn’t listen. Not this time. The voice thrived on twisting his thoughts, turning his mind into its own personal battleground. It toyed with him, manipulating him like a pawn in some cruel, endless game. But he wouldn’t break. He couldn’t. No matter how relentless the voice was, no matter how deep its claws sank into him—he had to be stronger.

A soft knock on his door startled him, snapping him out of his thoughts. He lifted his head as the door cracked open, revealing Iruka’s concerned face.

“Dinner’s ready,” Iruka said quietly. His gaze swept over Naruto, as if assessing whether he was strong enough to eat, to sit at a table, to exist among the living.

Naruto forced a small, wavering smile. “Yeah. I’ll be right there.”

Iruka hesitated, then nodded, stepping back into the hall. As soon as he was gone, Naruto exhaled sharply, pressing his palms against his face. The voice had gone quiet, but its presence still lingered.

It didn’t matter what it said.

It was wrong.

He wasn’t a murderer.

Days passed, and slowly, Naruto found himself settling into the quiet routine of Kakashi and Iruka’s constant presence. At first, it had been suffocating, their eyes always on him, their concern heavy in every word they spoke, every careful step they took around him. He could feel it lingering in the air, thick and unspoken, like they were afraid he’d disappear if they weren’t watching closely enough.

It had frustrated him at first, made his skin itch with the need to escape, to remind them he wasn’t that fragile. But over time, he realized how much he needed it—the soft reassurances, the warmth of their understanding, the way they never pushed. Never asked too much. They were just there. Steady. Unmoving.

Kakashi always found some way to distract him, slipping lazy, dry-witted comments into conversations that made Naruto roll his eyes but secretly appreciate the normalcy. Iruka, ever patient, never hesitated to offer comfort when Naruto needed it, even if Naruto himself didn’t always realize it. They made sure he ate. Made sure he rested. 

Made sure he knew he wasn’t alone.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, Naruto began to believe that maybe—just maybe —he wasn’t.

But peace never lasted long for him.

The night was cold when he awoke. Cold and wrong .

Naruto’s eyes shot open, his breath coming in sharp gasps. His skin prickled, his body aching as if he’d been running for miles—muscles burning, lungs heaving. His head pounded with the force of a thousand voices screaming at once, a sharp, static-like ringing pressing against his skull.

Something was off. Very off.

The air was thick with the stench of damp pavement and rotting trash, the scent of the village at its worst. A faint buzzing filled his ears—the distant hum of streetlights, just beyond the alley’s mouth. It was suffocating, pressing in from all sides, and then—

The smell hit him.

Coppery. Thick. Overpowering.

Blood.

His stomach twisted violently. His throat clenched. The sheer wrongness of it made his vision swim, nausea clawing at his insides like a living thing. The scent mixed with the alley’s filth—the mildew creeping along the brick walls, the acrid stench of garbage left too long in the cold.

Slowly, hesitantly, his eyes adjusted to the dimness around him.

Tall, damp brick walls boxed him in on either side, stretching up toward the sliver of night sky above. A single street lamp flickered at the alley’s entrance, casting long, jagged shadows against the pavement. Water dripped somewhere, the slow, rhythmic sound echoing in the narrow space.

And there, at his feet—

A body.

Naruto staggered back, his breath catching in his throat, legs nearly giving out beneath him. His pulse pounded so hard it felt like it would burst through his ribs, a relentless drum against his bones.

The corpse lay crumpled on the ground, the blood still fresh, still pooling beneath it, glistening wetly in the weak light. The sight was grotesque, wrong in a way that made Naruto feel like the world was tilting beneath him.

This time, there was no twisted sense of familiarity. No connection to ground him in the horror.

This person was a stranger.

His hands trembled as he reached into his pocket, fingers brushing against something wet. His breath hitched, his movements painfully slow, as if he already knew what he was going to find but was desperately hoping he was wrong.

He pulled out his kunai.

Red.

Naruto choked on a gasp, bile rising in his throat. His entire body broke out in shivers as reality came crashing down around him.

No. No, no, no.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

He was getting better. He was getting better.

Kakashi and Iruka had told him— reassured him—that he wasn’t a monster. That he wasn’t responsible for this. That he wasn’t—

Then why?

Why was his kunai covered in blood?

A shuddering breath escaped him, uneven, sharp. His entire body was trembling, his thoughts racing so fast he could barely grasp onto any of them.

"You can’t run from this, Naruto."

His breath hitched.

"You did this. No one else. You."

Naruto squeezed his eyes shut, gripping his head as if he could physically shove the voice away. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.

Think.

He couldn’t panic. He couldn’t freeze up.

Kakashi and Iruka were still at his apartment. If they realized he was missing, if they found out about this—

His throat tightened.

I have to deal with this.

Naruto forced himself to move, creating a shadow clone that immediately set to work. The alleyway was too exposed. The body was still warm, blood still wet. If anyone stumbled across this scene, if anyone saw him—he was done. There would be no explaining this away. No way to prove he hadn’t done it. He had to act. Now.

His clone hoisted the corpse up, its movements eerily silent as it carried the limp figure toward the forest, slipping between buildings and sticking to the shadows. Naruto followed close behind, forcing his legs to keep moving despite how weak they felt beneath him. Every step felt like a battle against his own body, against the dread curling in his gut. His pulse pounded in his ears, drowning out everything else except the single, overwhelming thought repeating in his head: This isn’t happening. This isn’t real. This isn’t me.

But the voice in the back of his mind slithered through his defenses, insidious and cruel.

"You can’t keep pretending, Naruto. There’s blood on your hands."

His breath hitched. His hands were slick with blood. The warm, sticky sensation clung to his skin, the iron scent thick in the air, invading his senses, making him nauseous. He clenched his jaw so hard it ached.

Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.

The darkened streets melted away as they reached the outskirts of the village, the looming trees swallowing them whole. The transition from city to forest was jarring—the hum of distant voices and street lamps replaced by an oppressive, suffocating silence. Every rustling leaf, every snapping twig sent spikes of panic up Naruto’s spine. He was too exposed here. But he couldn’t stop.

His clone led him deeper into the woods, weaving through the trees with urgency, finally stopping in a clearing. Moonlight filtered through the canopy in fractured beams, casting jagged shadows over the ground. The body was placed in the dirt, limbs sprawled unnaturally, face hidden beneath the thick curtain of their own hair.

Naruto’s breath came in short, ragged bursts. He staggered forward, staring down at the corpse. His stomach twisted violently. It didn’t matter how much he tried to detach himself from it—this was a person. Someone who had been alive, breathing, existing just hours ago. And now they were just… nothing. A mess of flesh and blood.

His throat closed up. He didn’t even know who they were. Didn’t recognize them. But that didn’t matter, did it? If he didn’t do something, if someone found them, he would take the fall.

"What will you do now?" The voice cooed, its tone almost amused. "Turn yourself in? Run to Kakashi and Iruka? Beg them to believe you?"

A shiver ran down his spine.

No one will believe me.

It didn’t matter what Kakashi and Iruka had said, how much they reassured him that he wasn’t a monster. The second they found out about this, their perception of him would change. He could already see the looks in their eyes—pity shifting into horror. Trust turning into fear.

"They’ll see you for what you are."

His nails dug into his palms. His breathing grew ragged.

No. No, I’m not—

But he was here, wasn’t he? Standing over a corpse, blood drying on his hands. Again. Just like before. And now he was covering it up. Again.

If he wasn’t a monster, then what was he?

Naruto swallowed hard, bile burning in his throat. His hands trembled as he reached for his kunai. He couldn’t leave the body like this. He had to get rid of it. If he was found like this, if there was even a chance someone could link him to it—

He hesitated.

The weight of the kunai felt different tonight. He had used this blade a thousand times before, in battle, in training, in fights that had meant something. But this? This was different.

"No turning back now."

His jaw locked. His knuckles turned white around the handle.

The first cut was the hardest.

Naruto gagged, bile rising in his throat as the blade sank in. It was nothing like a training dummy. Nothing like the clean, effortless slices he’d practiced in the academy. This was real. The skin was tougher than he expected, the muscle beneath even worse. The sound—gods, the sound —made his head spin. Wet, sickening, like cutting into raw meat. Because that’s exactly what he was doing.

His stomach lurched violently, and he turned away just in time to retch onto the ground. His body heaved, his throat burning as everything in his stomach forced its way up. He coughed, gasped, wiped his mouth with a shaking hand.

"Pathetic."

Naruto swallowed hard, dragging a shaky breath into his lungs. He forced himself to keep going. His hands were slick with blood by the time he was finished, his arms weak and shaking. He could barely feel his own fingers. He stared down at what remained of the body—just pieces now, unrecognizable. His breath hitched.

"See? You know what you are."

He clenched his teeth. No. This wasn’t me. This wasn’t my fault.

His mind felt detached, his body moving on autopilot as he gathered dry leaves, twigs, and anything flammable. His fingers fumbled as he grabbed two rocks, striking them together with desperation.

Flames caught on the dry kindling, flickering to life in the darkness. The fire spread quickly, devouring the remnants of what had once been a person. The scent of burning flesh filled the clearing, thick and suffocating, wrapping around Naruto like an unshakable weight.

His stomach twisted violently, and he staggered back, one hand clamped over his mouth. The heat licked at his skin, making sweat bead on his forehead, but he felt frozen—numb. His entire body trembled as he watched the fire consume the evidence of his crime. Not my crime, he corrected himself harshly. I didn’t do this. I didn’t.

"You did."

Naruto squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head as if that would silence the voice whispering in his mind. His nails dug into his arms, his breath coming fast and shallow.

"You can burn the body, Naruto, but the truth doesn’t burn. You can’t erase what you are."

Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.

Smoke curled into the night sky, blending with the darkness, as if carrying his sins away. But no matter how much he wished it, he knew nothing was that easy. The weight of the kunai in his hand was unbearable, the blood still clinging to his skin like it was seeping into his very being.

His knees gave out, and he collapsed onto the forest floor, pressing his forehead against the cool earth, trying to ground himself. His breaths were erratic, sharp gasps that barely filled his lungs. The world spun around him.

He stayed like that until the fire burned low, reducing everything to ash. Only when he was certain there was nothing left did he force himself to move. His limbs felt detached from his body, distant and weak, like he was controlling them from somewhere far away.

His body was screaming for rest, but his mind was racing. He had to get back. Kakashi and Iruka—if they realized he was gone—

Dragging himself to his feet, Naruto forced his shaky legs to carry him back toward the village. He retraced his steps, making sure nothing was out of place, no sign of his presence left behind. His clone had done its job—everything was gone. 

Time was of essence. Panic clawed at his throat, and he pushed himself faster, ignoring the blood on his clothes, the way it felt like it had seeped into his very skin. By the time he reached his apartment building, his mind was blank, empty. His hands still trembled as he climbed up to his window, slipping inside as silently as he could. He barely had time to pull the covers over himself before the door creaked open.

Kakashi stood there, his face shadowed in the dim light.

Naruto’s heart nearly stopped.

For a terrifying second, he was sure Kakashi knew. That somehow, in those dark, unreadable eyes, he had already seen everything.

But Kakashi only lingered for a moment before stepping back, quietly closing the door.

Naruto didn’t move. He stayed curled on his side, eyes wide, staring at the wall. Barely breathing, waiting for something to happen. But nothing did.

Only when he was sure Kakashi was gone did the weight of everything slam into him all at once. His entire body convulsed, silent sobs shaking him as he curled in on himself beneath the blankets. Broken sobs wrenched from his throat, muffled by his pillow. His whole body trembled, the horror of what he had just done suffocating him.

The reality of what he had just done—what he had been forced to do—crushed him, leaving nothing but a hollow ache in his chest.

"You did well, Naruto."

Naruto choked on a breath, squeezing his eyes shut.

He didn't want to hear it. Didn't want to think it.

But the voice was there, waiting in the darkness as Naruto’s world crumbled all over again.

Chapter Text

Sasuke lay flat on his back, eyes fixed on the ceiling above him. The faint glow of the moon filtered through the thin curtains, painting pale streaks across his room. The village was quiet at this hour—too quiet—and yet his thoughts were loud enough to drown out everything else.

He hadn’t slept properly since the hospital. Since then.

Naruto’s face came back to him with brutal clarity. Pale, exhausted, framed by sterile white sheets and the steady beeping of machines. His eyes, normally so full of fire and stubborn light, had been hollow. Shaking, broken.

Sasuke’s hands curled tightly into the sheets at his sides, nails digging into the fabric. That wasn’t Naruto. Couldn’t be. He was loud. Annoying. Reckless. Always running headfirst into danger but never—not once—giving up. Naruto was the one who pulled other people back from the edge. Not the one standing on it himself.

So why? Why now?

He rolled onto his side, glaring at the shadows that pooled in the corners of the room. Naruto had been strange for weeks—edgy, withdrawn, distracted. At first Sasuke thought it was just him being weird, maybe stressed from training, but after Ebisu vanished, things had only spiraled further. And then… the hospital. The look in Naruto’s eyes that day had haunted him ever since.

A chill crawled down his spine, unshakable.

Something was happening. Something none of them could see, but Naruto was in the center of it. Sasuke felt it in his gut, and he’d learned long ago not to ignore his instincts.

He dragged a hand down his face, letting out a quiet sigh, when another memory pushed its way into his mind—words overheard days ago. Two women whispering on the side of the road near a bakery, their voices hushed but cutting clear through the din of the street.

“…another one, seven years ago, can you believe it? The same marks…”

“They’re saying it’s the same killer. All this time, hiding right under our noses.”

The words replayed, sharper this time, every syllable digging into his memory. Sasuke’s brow furrowed, his mind piecing together the fragments. Seven years ago. A girl, only six. Found in the forest. The same marks as the recent victims.

He sat up slowly, tension coiling through his body.

Seven years. A murder no one had spoken about, forgotten or buried, now whispered about in back alleys and bakeries. He’d never heard a word about it, not from his family, not from the village. If it was true, then this wasn’t something new at all. This wasn’t some sudden outbreak of violence. It was old. It had roots.

And roots had a way of spreading deep.

His chest tightened, that gnawing feeling in his gut growing heavier. If those whispers were right, if there really was a string of murders spanning back years, then why was it resurfacing now? Why was it happening again—here, now, with them?

His mind went back, unbidden, to Naruto’s pale face, his trembling shoulders, the way he’d told Sasuke to leave as though every word was a knife in his throat. He tried to shake it off, tried to dismiss it as coincidence.

But Sasuke couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling—call it intuition, paranoia. Naruto’s unraveling state, Ebisu’s disappearance, and this whisper of a long-time serial killer. They lined up in a way that made his skin crawl 

Sasuke swallowed hard, fingers digging into his knees. It sounded insane, but his instincts screamed otherwise. He couldn’t explain it, not fully, but he felt it—like standing too close to the edge of a cliff, a weight in his stomach pulling him down.

He couldn’t just ignore this.

If there was truth to what those women said, then someone, somewhere, had buried it. Someone had decided the village didn’t need to know. Which meant there had to be records—documents, reports, something tangible.

And there was only one place those would be.

The Hokage Tower.

Sasuke’s mind was made up before the thought even finished forming. He pushed himself off the bed, the wooden floor cold against his bare feet. Moving quickly, he dressed in silence, pulling on his shirt, his sandals, tightening the straps of his kunai pouch with deliberate care. His movements were steady, but his pulse thrummed faster with each passing second.

It was reckless, sneaking into the Tower at night. He knew that. If he got caught, he’d have more questions than answers to deal with. But the weight pressing against his chest was heavier than the risk.

If he did nothing, if he let this fester, Naruto would slip further away. And Sasuke wasn’t about to watch that happen.

Sliding the window open, the night air rushed in—cold, sharp, almost biting. He exhaled, steadying himself. The streets of Konoha below lay in silence, lamps burning low, pools of yellow light scattered among the shadows.

He leapt soundlessly into the dark, moving roof to roof, the village passing beneath him like a ghost town. Every sound—the rustle of leaves, the distant bark of a dog—felt amplified in the stillness. His eyes stayed sharp, his body alert, but his mind was set on one thing: answers.

And Sasuke, silent and unyielding, pressed forward.

The Hokage Tower loomed against the night sky, its silhouette like a dark sentinel standing watch over the sleeping village. To Sasuke, it wasn’t just a building tonight—it was a vault of secrets, walls heavy with the weight of things no one dared speak aloud.

And he was going to pry them open.

Every instinct told him this was reckless. Dangerous. But lying awake, drowning in thoughts of Naruto and the half-heard whispers of those women by the bakery, he couldn’t stay still. His gut screamed that the two threads were connected—the disappearances, the strange killings, Naruto’s unraveling state. He didn’t know how, not yet, but the feeling gnawed at him so fiercely it left his chest tight, his hands restless.

He had to know.

Sasuke crouched low as he crossed the final rooftop, his eyes on the Tower’s lantern-lit windows. Guards stood at the entrance below, chatting idly. He waited, breath shallow, until their heads turned, then slipped into motion. A shadow among shadows. He scaled the wall with practiced ease, fingers finding their grip in the grooves of stone, his body moving with silent precision.

A quiet click, and the window latch gave way. He slipped inside.

The hush of the Tower was suffocating, the air stale with dust and ink. Sasuke’s sandals made no sound as he padded through the dark corridors, his Sharingan flaring briefly to catch the faintest outlines in the black. He knew where the archives were. Where the Third Hokage’s old records would still be kept, undisturbed, untouched by the newer administration.

Down the hall. Past two sets of stairs. Another turn. Finally, he reached the file room.

It stretched endlessly before him, shelves stacked high with folders and scrolls, the paper yellowed with age. He moved quickly, scanning labels until his eyes landed on it:

Third Hokage – Classified Cases.

Dust clung to the folder spines. His fingers paused when he spotted one set slightly apart from the others, as if it had been tugged out once, long ago, then shoved back into place. The bold red stamp across its cover made his heart beat faster.

TOP SECRET.

Sasuke pulled it free, laying it flat on a nearby desk. His eyes darted across page after page—reports, names, briefings stamped with urgency. And then—

Forest outskirts. Victim: Female, age six. Cause of death: asphyxiation with secondary trauma. Wounds noted across the arms and neck, distinctive pattern. No suspects identified. Case unresolved.

His fingers tightened on the page. The details of the death churned something deep in him, a sharp unease he couldn’t name. He didn’t know why, but the knot in his stomach screamed that this mattered. That somehow, this tied back to everything unraveling now.

Before he could read further, a sound echoed down the hall. Footsteps.

Sasuke slammed the folder shut but clutched the report page in his hand, slipping into the shadows between the shelves. He held his breath as two shinobi entered, their voices low but clear.

“—Ebisu-sensei’s disappearance can’t be a coincidence.” A gruff voice, low but sharp.

“Yeah. They’re saying it’s the same one. The same damn killer that’s been lurking in the shadows all this time.”

Sasuke’s heart hammered in his ears.

“I don’t care how long they’ve been hiding,” the first shinobi growled. “If they think they can keep killing in our village, they’re wrong. Ebisu was one of ours. We’ll put this bastard down, no matter what it takes.”

The other murmured agreement, and their footsteps began to fade, carrying the conversation with them.

Only when silence settled again did Sasuke move, sliding the stolen report into his shirt. His pulse hadn’t slowed. His breathing was shallow. He slipped out the window the same way he had entered, the night air hitting him like a slap to the face.

The rooftops blurred under his feet as Sasuke moved quickly toward home, the stolen file pressed tight against his chest beneath his shirt. His thoughts spun, half-focused on the dangerous gamble he’d taken at the Hokage Tower, half on the questions burning holes in his mind.

But something below made him stop short.

Naruto.

Sasuke froze, crouched low in the shadows of the tiles, his breath sharp in his throat. Down in the street, illuminated by the faint glow of a lantern, Naruto stood with a villager Sasuke didn’t recognize. The man looked uneasy—eyes darting, shifting from foot to foot like prey that already sensed a predator. Naruto, on the other hand, was still. Too still. His body leaned forward with a quiet intensity, his voice low and hushed. Sasuke strained to catch the words, but they were just whispers lost in the night.

The villager’s nervous laugh cracked like brittle glass. He scratched the back of his neck, glanced around as though hoping someone else would appear. Naruto leaned closer, tone deliberate. Whatever he said made the man flinch.

Then, without warning, Naruto turned, tilting his head toward a narrow alley way just off the street. He started walking, and the villager—hesitant, reluctantly followed.

Sasuke’s chest tightened. Every instinct screamed at him to move, to follow, to see what was happening. His feet slid silently along the rooftop edge, muscles coiled.

And then—Naruto stopped.

The villager halted just behind him, confusion flickering across his face.

Slowly, unbearably slowly, Naruto lifted his head. His movements weren’t natural—there was no surprise, no curiosity. It was too smooth, too certain, as though he had known Sasuke was there all along.

Sasuke’s lungs seized as Naruto’s gaze locked directly onto his.

Those weren’t Naruto’s eyes.

They glowed a deep, burning crimson, pupils thin and sharp, drenched in malice that rolled off him in waves. Sasuke could feel it even from above, prickling against his skin like fire, seeping into his bones. That same suffocating wrongness he had felt in the hospital—only stronger. More deliberate.

The world seemed to fall away around them. The quiet street. The nervous villager. The flickering lantern. All of it drowned under the weight of that gaze.

Sasuke’s body screamed at him to move, to fight, to run—anything. But he couldn’t. His legs felt heavy, his throat tight, his breath shallow.

The villager turned, confused by Naruto’s sudden stillness, and opened his mouth to speak. He never got the words out.

The alley behind them darkened, shadows stretching unnaturally wide. It was as if the darkness itself reached forward, swallowing the light, swallowing sound, swallowing them whole.

And then—Naruto was gone.

The villager too.

Vanished.

Sasuke stumbled back so hard he nearly lost his footing on the tiles. His pulse roared in his ears, deafening, his chest rising and falling in short, panicked bursts. He blinked, searching the alley, the street, the rooftops—anything—but there was nothing. Just silence and the empty street below.

No Naruto. No villager.

No trace they had ever been there at all.

His stomach lurched. His breath caught. Every instinct screamed leave.

And he did.

He fled, body moving faster than thought, faster than reason, the rooftops rushing beneath his feet in a blur. He didn’t stop to check his trail. He didn’t stop to think. He only ran, the stolen folder clutched desperately against him, until the familiar walls of his home rose in the distance.

Sasuke landed hard against his window frame, shoved it open, and pulled himself inside, slamming it shut behind him. He stood there, chest heaving.

For the first time in years, Sasuke realized—he was afraid.

Truly, deeply afraid.

And it was Naruto who had put that fear in him.

He pressed his back against the wall. His chest rose and fell, unsteady, as he pulled the stolen page from his shirt. He dropped the folder onto his desk and forced himself to look. At first, it was just words—cold, clinical lines scrawled by an investigator long dead. Detached descriptions of wounds, of soil disturbed in the forest, of a body cataloged like evidence.

His eyes drifted down. And stopped.

The name.

His stomach lurched. His throat locked.

Akari.

The letters seemed to pulse on the page, blurring under his vision, but the memory cut through anyway—sharp, undeniable. A girl with wide, curious eyes who used to linger near Naruto after academy lessons. A laugh too bright for this gray village. She’d been new, innocent, untouched by the whispers that clung to Naruto’s name.

And then—she vanished. Just another disappearance, forgotten in the noise. Sasuke hadn’t thought of her in years.

Until now.

The report trembled in his hands, every line of ink suddenly too heavy to hold. A thousand questions collided in his chest, each one worse than the last.

It couldn’t be her.

But it was.

Sasuke’s knees threatened to give, his breath ragged, cold sweat crawling down his spine.

This wasn’t random. This wasn’t some unsolved footnote buried in the Hokage’s records.

And Naruto… Naruto was tangled at the center of it.

The page slipped from his fingers, fluttering to the floor.

He stood there, frozen, staring at that single name as the room seemed to close in around him.

A shiver cut through him, deeper than fear, colder than rage.

The truth wasn’t just dangerous.

It was worse than anything he could have imagined.