What if Naruto Had Asta’s Anti-Magic Sword—but for Chakra?

# Chapter 1: The Uzumaki Legacy

The last rays of sunset painted Konoha's streets in amber and gold as a blur of orange and yellow ricocheted between rooftops. Uzumaki Naruto, twelve years old and already the village's most notorious troublemaker, clutched a dripping paint bucket to his chest, his face split in a fox-like grin.

"GET BACK HERE, YOU LITTLE DEMON!" A chunin's voice cracked across the evening air like thunder.

Naruto glanced back, his azure eyes gleaming with mischief. Three shinobi bounded after him, faces flushed crimson beneath their headbands—matching the vibrant color Naruto had splashed across the village's eastern gate. The words "FUTURE HOKAGE WAS HERE" glistened in fresh scarlet paint.

"You'll have to catch me first!" Naruto hollered, his laughter spiraling into the dusk. He pivoted sharply, diving down an alleyway that twisted toward the Hokage Tower.

The pursuing chunin signaled to each other, splitting up to cut off the boy's escape routes. Naruto's heart hammered against his ribs—a wild, joyful rhythm. This was living! This was being seen!

When the alley narrowed to a dead end, Naruto didn't hesitate. One wall jump, two, and he was scrambling through an unlatched window on the second floor of the Hokage's Tower. He tumbled into a darkened corridor, paint bucket clattering across polished wooden floors.

"That was close," he whispered to no one, chest heaving. Distant footsteps echoed up the stairwell. Naruto scrambled to his feet, eyes darting frantically for a hiding place.

There—at the end of the hall—a door left slightly ajar. Without a second thought, he dashed inside, pulling it closed behind him. Darkness enveloped him, thick and musty with the scent of ancient paper and dust.

"Where am I?" Naruto fumbled along the wall, fingers searching for a light switch. Instead, they brushed against something smooth and cool—a seal tag. Chakra flared beneath his fingertips, and soft blue light bloomed throughout the room.

Naruto's breath caught in his throat. Shelves upon shelves of scrolls and forbidden texts stretched toward the ceiling. Masks with terrifying visages hung from the walls. Glass cases contained weapons of strange make and design.

"Whoa..." he breathed. "The old man's secret stash!"

The Archive of Forbidden Seals—a place even most jonin never entered. Naruto took a tentative step forward, all thoughts of pursuing chunin forgotten. Something pulled at him, a strange tug in his belly that led him deeper into the archive.

"What the..."

In the farthest corner, behind a glass case emblazoned with the spiral symbol of Konoha—no, of Uzushio—sat a scroll. Unlike the others, this one pulsed with a faint crimson light. The same spiral that adorned Naruto's jumpsuits was etched into the binding, but surrounded by intricate sealing formulas that seemed to writhe and shift before his eyes.

Naruto approached it, transfixed. The pulsing grew more intense with each step, as if the scroll recognized him. Before he knew what he was doing, his hand pressed against the glass.

It shattered.

No alarm sounded. No trap sprung. The glass simply disintegrated at his touch, falling away like water.

"That can't be good," Naruto muttered, but his hands already moved of their own accord, lifting the scroll from its resting place. It was heavier than it looked, and warm to the touch. The moment his fingers closed around it, a memory that wasn't his own flooded his mind.

---

Minato Namikaze stood before the Third Hokage, his face grave in the flickering torchlight. In his hands, he held the very scroll Naruto now possessed.

"I've sealed it away, Hiruzen-sama. The weapon is too dangerous to be left unguarded."

The Third puffed contemplatively on his pipe. "An Uzumaki heirloom, you say?"

"Yes. Kushina's cousin brought it during his last visit. He claimed it had been passed down through their clan for generations, but few could control it. The blade..." Minato's voice lowered. "I've never seen anything like it. It doesn't just cut through chakra—it devours it. When I tested it against an A-rank water jutsu, the technique simply... vanished."

"And you believe this is wise to keep in Konoha?"

"I believe it would be more dangerous anywhere else. The Uzumaki blood seems to temper its hunger somewhat." Minato's eyes shimmered with unspoken worry. "If the wrong hands were to wield it..."

"Very well." The Third nodded solemnly. "We'll keep it here, sealed until the time comes—if it ever does—that such a weapon is needed."

---

Naruto gasped, the vision fading. His father—the Fourth Hokage—had sealed this scroll. His mother's clan had created it. Something that belonged to him by blood and by right.

With trembling fingers, he unrolled the scroll across the floor. Strange symbols and diagrams covered its surface, most incomprehensible to his untrained eye. But at the center, a single message written in bold, flowing script:

"To the blood of Uzushio, if darkness falls: Press your hand here and speak your name."

Beneath it was a simple spiral, identical to the one on the back of his jacket.

Naruto hesitated for just a moment. This was probably a terrible idea. But when had that ever stopped him?

He pressed his palm against the spiral. "Uzumaki Naruto," he declared.

The scroll erupted with blinding crimson light. Chakra surged from the parchment, swirling around Naruto in a vortex of scarlet and black energy. The spiral beneath his hand burned white-hot, but he couldn't pull away. Wind howled through the archive, sending scrolls and artifacts flying.

And then, silence.

Where the scroll had been, a sword now lay.

Naruto stared at it, awestruck. The blade was obsidian black, jagged like solidified lightning with edges that seemed to drink in the light around it. Crimson inscriptions ran down its length, pulsing with the same rhythm as his heartbeat. The hilt was wrapped in tattered red cloth, frayed at the edges as if it had seen centuries of use.

"This is... mine?" Naruto whispered, reaching for the hilt.

The moment his fingers closed around it, a wave of weakness washed over him. The sword seemed to pull at something inside him—not quite chakra, but deeper, more fundamental. Then, just as quickly, the sensation passed, replaced by a strange exhilaration.

The sword felt light in his hand, perfectly balanced. When he gave it an experimental swing, it cut through the air with a sound like tearing silk.

Footsteps thundered in the hallway outside. The chunin had tracked him here. Naruto quickly rolled up what remained of the scroll—now just ordinary parchment with faded instructions—and shoved it inside his jacket. The sword was another problem. Too big to hide, too valuable to leave.

The door burst open. Three chunin stood silhouetted against the corridor light, faces twisted in fury.

"There you are, you little—" The lead chunin froze, eyes widening at the sight of the weapon in Naruto's hand. "What have you done? This area is forbidden!"

"I didn't mean to—" Naruto began, backing away. "I just needed a place to hide!"

"Drop the weapon, Naruto," ordered the second chunin, advancing cautiously. "That's not a toy."

"I know it's not! It's mine—my family's!"

The third chunin laughed harshly. "Your family? The orphan brat claiming heritage now?"

Anger flared hot in Naruto's chest. Always the same—the mockery, the dismissal, the cruel reminders of his solitude. His grip tightened on the sword's hilt.

"I'm not lying! This belonged to the Uzumaki clan!"

"Enough games!" The lead chunin darted forward, hands forming seals. "Earth Style: Stone Binding!"

The ground beneath Naruto's feet trembled, stone tendrils snaking up to ensnare his ankles. Pure instinct drove him to slash downward with the black blade.

The sword passed through the jutsu like it was mist. The chakra-infused stone crumbled to dust, the technique dissolving as if it had never existed. More shocking still, the chunin who had cast it stumbled backward, suddenly pale and disoriented.

"My chakra..." he gasped, falling to one knee. "I can't feel it!"

The other two chunin froze, eyes fixed on the blade with new terror.

"What did you do?" one whispered.

Naruto stared at the sword in his hand, feeling its eager pulsing. It wanted more—he could sense it somehow, a hunger that echoed his own loneliness.

"I don't know," he answered honestly.

The chunin recovered enough to draw a kunai. "Put it down, Naruto. Now!"

Before Naruto could respond, a new voice cut through the tension—calm, authoritative, and aged like fine sake.

"That won't be necessary."

The Third Hokage stood in the doorway, pipe smoke curling around him like living mist. His weathered face betrayed nothing, but his eyes—fixed on the black sword—held ancient worry.

"Hokage-sama!" The chunin bowed hastily.

Hiruzen waved them away. "Leave us. Say nothing of what you've seen here."

They hesitated only briefly before filing out, the chakra-drained chunin supported by his comrades. When they were gone, the Third stepped fully into the archive, closing the door behind him.

"So," he said quietly, approaching Naruto with measured steps. "The Chakra Devourer has awakened."

Naruto's eyes widened. "The what?"

"That blade you hold." Hiruzen gestured with his pipe. "A weapon of the Uzumaki clan, said to be their greatest treasure and their darkest secret."

"You knew about this? About my clan having something like this?"

The Hokage sighed heavily, suddenly looking every one of his seventy years. "I knew. Your father sealed it away after witnessing its power. He believed it too dangerous to be used in our world of ninjutsu."

"My father?" Naruto's voice cracked. "You know who my father was?"

Hiruzen's expression softened. "That is a conversation for another time, Naruto. For now, we must discuss the blade you've awakened."

"It ate that chunin's jutsu," Naruto said, looking down at the sword with newfound respect and fear. "And then it took his chakra somehow."

"Yes. That is its nature." The Third settled onto a nearby chair, gesturing for Naruto to sit opposite him. "The Chakra Devourer is older than the hidden villages—perhaps older than ninjutsu itself."

Naruto sat, but kept the sword across his lap. It hummed against his thighs, a subtle vibration that felt almost like contentment.

"According to legend," Hiruzen continued, "it was forged from the remains of a fallen god—one who opposed the very concept of chakra being given to humanity. This deity believed chakra would corrupt mankind, lead to endless wars and suffering."

"Well, they weren't wrong about the war part," Naruto muttered.

A brief smile flickered across the old man's face. "Indeed. The sword was created to 'cleanse' the world of chakra, returning it to a more natural state. In battle, it negates any ninjutsu it touches and can temporarily strip away a shinobi's ability to mold chakra."

"And it belonged to my clan? The Uzumaki?"

"They were its guardians for centuries. Their special chakra—powerful, resilient, and uniquely compatible with sealing techniques—made them the only ones who could wield it without being consumed by its hunger." Hiruzen leaned forward, eyes grave. "The blade is sentient, Naruto. It hungers. It will try to influence you, to feed through you."

Naruto looked down at the weapon. In the dim light of the archive, the red inscriptions seemed to pulse more strongly, like blood flowing through veins.

"Why did it choose me? Why now?"

"Blood calls to blood," the Third said simply. "As for why now... perhaps it sensed your need. The sword has always appeared to those of Uzumaki lineage in times of great change or danger."

A thrill ran through Naruto—not just fear, but excitement. Something that recognized him, that was tied to his blood and his heritage. Something that belonged to him alone.

"What do I do with it?"

Hiruzen studied him for a long moment. "The responsible answer would be to seal it away again. But..." He sighed, smoke wreathing his words. "I have lived long enough to know that some forces cannot be contained once awakened. The sword has chosen you, Naruto Uzumaki. Now you must choose what to do with it."

Naruto ran a finger along the flat of the blade. It was cool to the touch, despite the energy it radiated.

"I'll learn to control it," he said, determination hardening his voice. "If it belonged to my clan, then it's my responsibility."

The Third nodded slowly. "Very well. But you must not use it without supervision, at least until you understand its power. Come to my office tomorrow after the Academy. We will begin your training."

Naruto couldn't suppress the grin that spread across his face. "You're going to train me personally, old man?"

"Someone must," Hiruzen chuckled. "Unless you'd prefer I assign Ebisu?"

"No thanks!" Naruto scrambled to his feet, the sword clutched protectively to his chest.

As they left the archive, the last of the sunset's glow faded from the windows. Night had fallen over Konoha, but for Naruto, it felt like the dawn of something new.

The sword pulsed against his heart—a second heartbeat, ancient and powerful and hungry. And in the deepest corner of his mind, where the Nine-Tails slumbered restlessly behind its seal, something stirred in response to this new presence.

Two ancient powers now resided within one boy. One that could destroy the world with chakra, and one that could erase chakra from existence.

Naruto Uzumaki walked into the night, unaware that the balance of the entire shinobi world had just shifted.

# Chapter 2: The Sword That Hungers

Dawn painted Konoha's training grounds in watercolor hues of amber and gold. Dew-kissed grass bent beneath Naruto's sandals as he trudged toward the secluded clearing where Iruka-sensei waited. The sword—now wrapped in layers of sealing cloth provided by the Third Hokage—hung heavy across his back, its weight seeming to increase with each step.

"You're late," Iruka called, a small smile softening his reprimand.

"Sorry, Iruka-sensei." Naruto yawned, rubbing sleep from his eyes. "The sword kept me up all night."

Iruka's brow furrowed. "Kept you up? How?"

Naruto struggled to find the words. "It... I don't know... hummed? Like it was singing or something. Not with sound, but..." He tapped his chest. "In here."

Concern flickered across Iruka's face, but he masked it quickly. "The Hokage warned us this wouldn't be like training with an ordinary weapon. Let's start slow."

The clearing lay nestled between ancient trees that blocked prying eyes—exactly as the Third had arranged. Naruto's classmates knew nothing of the weapon he'd discovered, and the Hokage intended to keep it that way.

"First, let's see you handle it without actually channeling any chakra," Iruka instructed, stepping back.

Naruto unwrapped the sword, the sealing cloth falling away like shed skin. Morning light caught the obsidian blade, fracturing into crimson patterns that danced across the clearing. The moment his fingers closed around the hilt, fatigue swept through him—a deep, bone-aching weariness that hadn't been there seconds before.

"Heavier today," Naruto grunted, sweat beading on his brow just from holding the weapon aloft.

"Focus," Iruka encouraged. "Find its balance point."

Naruto swung the blade in a clumsy arc. His arms trembled with the effort, but he gritted his teeth against the weakness. The Third had explained that the sword's hunger would drain him physically—a necessary sacrifice to control its power. After several more swings, his borrowed Academy tracksuit clung to his skin, soaked through with sweat.

"That's enough for now," Iruka said, frowning at Naruto's pallor.

"I can keep going!" Naruto protested, even as his knees threatened to buckle.

"This isn't about pushing until you collapse," Iruka countered, placing a steadying hand on the boy's shoulder. "The Hokage was clear—we train in short bursts until your body adjusts."

Naruto reluctantly lowered the sword, suddenly aware of how parched his throat felt, how his muscles quivered. "It's taking more than yesterday."

"The Chakra Devourer lives up to its name," Iruka said gravely. "It's not just chakra it consumes, but the wielder's vitality."

"Then I'll just have to get stronger!" Naruto declared with defiant cheer that didn't quite reach his eyes.

Iruka smiled sadly. "Rest first. Drink some water. Then we'll try a simple kata."

As Naruto guzzled from his canteen, Iruka moved through a basic sword form, demonstrating with a wooden practice blade. Naruto watched intently, memorizing each movement with uncharacteristic focus.

When he rose to mimic the kata, something strange happened. The sword—previously so heavy—seemed to guide his hands, flowing through the movements as if eager to demonstrate its prowess. Naruto's eyes widened as the blade cut the air with precision he'd never managed in any Academy exercise.

"I didn't do that," he whispered.

Iruka stared, equally surprised. "The sword... it remembers."

Their training continued through the week, always at dawn, always in secret. Each session followed the same pattern: initial exhaustion as the sword drained Naruto's energy, followed by moments of uncanny synchronicity where the blade moved with purpose beyond Naruto's skill.

On the fifth day, Iruka brought another chunin to assist—a training partner with wind-nature chakra.

"Today we test its abilities against actual jutsu," Iruka explained. "Hoheto has volunteered to help."

The older chunin nodded solemnly. "I've been briefed on the weapon's properties. We'll start with the smallest amount of chakra possible."

Naruto stood at the ready, sword poised before him. Fatigue already pulled at his limbs, but excitement bubbled through his veins. This was the real test—not just swinging at air, but facing an opponent's technique.

Hoheto formed a simple hand sign. "Wind Style: Gentle Breeze."

A whisper of chakra-infused wind curled toward Naruto—barely enough to rustle leaves, the most basic wind manipulation possible. Yet the moment the jutsu formed, Naruto felt the sword jerk in his grip, pulling him forward as if magnetized.

"Whoa!" He stumbled, fighting to maintain control as the blade dragged him toward Hoheto's technique.

The black metal sliced through the gentle breeze—and the jutsu unraveled instantly, wind chakra disappearing as if it had never existed. More alarmingly, the sword continued to pull, straining toward Hoheto himself.

"I can't stop it!" Naruto cried, digging his heels into the dirt.

Iruka leapt forward, grabbing Naruto's shoulders and hauling him backward. The sword vibrated in Naruto's grip, emitting a high-pitched keening that only he seemed to hear.

"Enough!" Iruka commanded, helping Naruto wrestle the blade back into its sealing cloth. Even wrapped, it shuddered against Naruto's back, like an animal straining at its leash.

Hoheto kept his distance, face ashen. "It wanted my chakra," he said quietly. "Not just the jutsu's—mine."

"The Hokage warned us," Iruka muttered, checking Naruto for injuries. "The sword hungers for chakra. It seeks it out."

"It was like it smelled Hoheto-san's technique," Naruto added, still shaking. "Like a dog catching a scent."

That night, Naruto dreamed of vast oceans of blue light—chakra—and of swimming through them, drinking them dry until stars burst behind his eyes. He woke ravenous, though not for food. The sword pulsed beside his bed, a discordant rhythm that matched neither his heartbeat nor his breathing, but something older, something buried in the marrow of his bones.

---

Days blurred into weeks. The sword's drain on Naruto's body lessened gradually—not because its hunger diminished, but because Naruto's stamina grew to match its demands. Iruka marveled at the boy's resilience, watching him train with the blade for longer periods each day, his movements becoming fluid, instinctual.

The Academy graduation exam loomed on the horizon, casting a shadow over Naruto's progress with the sword. Despite his growing prowess with the blade, his ninjutsu remained abysmal.

"Focus, Naruto!" Iruka sighed as another clone technique produced a sickly, half-formed doppelgänger that collapsed into smoke almost immediately. "The exam is tomorrow!"

"I'm trying!" Naruto snapped, frustration boiling over. "It's like the sword is eating my chakra before I can even use it!"

They stood in the Academy practice yard after hours, Iruka having volunteered extra tutoring time. The sword, wrapped in its sealing cloth, lay several meters away—a precaution they'd developed after discovering it actively interfered with Naruto's jutsus.

"Even separated, it affects you," Iruka observed grimly. "Have you told the Hokage?"

Naruto kicked at the dirt. "He said it's the price of wielding it. The sword bonds with its user's chakra network—it's always feeding, a little bit, even when I'm not holding it."

"Then we need to adapt." Iruka crossed his arms, thinking. "The clone technique requires precise chakra control. What if we try something that needs more raw power instead?"

"Like what?"

"Like..." Iruka hesitated, then smiled slyly. "Never mind. Let's call it a day. You need rest before the exam."

Naruto squinted suspiciously. "You were going to suggest something! What was it?"

"Just a theory." Iruka waved dismissively. "Besides, it's not on the exam curriculum."

"Tell me!" Naruto bounced on his toes, suddenly rejuvenated. "Please, Iruka-sensei! I'll fail otherwise!"

Iruka sighed dramatically—a performance Naruto saw through immediately. "Well... there's a technique in the Scroll of Seals. A forbidden jutsu called Shadow Clone. Instead of illusions, it creates solid duplicates. But it requires massive chakra reserves..."

Naruto's eyes gleamed. "Which I have!"

"It's forbidden for a reason, Naruto," Iruka cautioned, though his tone lacked conviction. "It drains normal shinobi dangerously fast."

"But I'm not normal!" Naruto pointed out. "I've got super Uzumaki stamina, plus I've been training with a chakra-eating sword! If anybody can handle it, I can!"

Iruka smiled cryptically. "Perhaps. But as your teacher, I couldn't possibly suggest you try to learn a forbidden technique before the exam."

"Right," Naruto nodded, a fox-like grin spreading across his face. "You would never suggest that."

They shared a knowing look, teacher and student—conspirators in what would either be Naruto's salvation or his most spectacular failure yet.

---

Moonlight dappled the forest floor as Naruto crouched over the massive scroll, brow furrowed in concentration. The Scroll of Seals lay open before him, its forbidden contents exposed to his eager eyes. Stealing it had been laughably easy with Mizuki-sensei's instructions—the old man's ANBU guards were apparently lightweights when faced with Naruto's "Sexy Jutsu."

"Shadow Clone Technique," he read aloud, fingers tracing the diagrams. "Requires even distribution of chakra among all created clones..."

The sword, unwrapped and gleaming in the moonlight, lay beside him. It had been oddly quiescent since he'd stolen the scroll, its usual hungry pulse subdued. Naruto found himself glancing at it nervously as he practiced the hand signs for the Shadow Clone Technique.

Hours passed in determined repetition. Sweat plastered Naruto's blonde hair to his forehead as he formed the cross-shaped seal for what felt like the thousandth time.

"Shadow Clone Jutsu!"

Chakra surged through his network in a torrent. For one glorious moment, Naruto felt the technique taking shape—and then the sword shuddered violently beside him. A spike of pain lanced through his temple as his chakra scattered, the half-formed clones dissipating before they fully materialized.

"Stupid sword!" Naruto snarled, kicking at the dirt. "Why won't you let me do this?"

The blade remained silent, though its red inscriptions pulsed faster, like an accelerated heartbeat.

Naruto wiped sweat from his brow, determination hardening his features. "One more try. And you—" he jabbed a finger at the sword, "—stay out of my chakra!"

Forming the seal again, Naruto closed his eyes and reached deep within himself, past where his normal chakra resided, into the vast well he sometimes glimpsed in dreams. The place where red energy swirled behind a massive gate.

"SHADOW CLONE JUTSU!"

The forest exploded with smoke. When it cleared, fifty perfect copies of Naruto stood among the trees, each solid and complete. Naruto gaped, spinning in a circle to take in his achievement.

"I did it!" he crowed. "I really did it!"

The moment of triumph shattered as the sword rose from the ground—not lifted by any hand, but hovering of its own accord. It spun slowly in the air, red inscriptions blazing like fresh blood. Every clone took a step back simultaneously as the blade rotated toward them.

"What the..." Naruto began.

The sword shot forward, impossibly fast. It pierced the nearest clone, which didn't dispel in smoke as expected—instead, the copy seemed to wither, chakra visibly draining from its form before it collapsed. The sword moved to the next clone, and the next, each time drinking deeply of the chakra that composed them.

"Stop!" Naruto cried, but the sword paid no heed. It danced through the crowd of duplicates, destroying each in seconds until only the original Naruto remained.

The blade hung in the air before him, quivering with newfound energy. Naruto could feel its satisfaction washing over him in waves—and beneath that, a gnawing hunger that had only been whetted, not sated.

"What's wrong with you?!" he demanded, too shocked to be afraid.

A voice—not heard with his ears but felt in the marrow of his bones—whispered: Waste.

Naruto froze. "Did you just...?"

The rustling of leaves announced a new arrival. Iruka burst into the clearing, face tight with worry.

"Naruto! What have you done?"

The floating sword dropped instantly, clattering to the forest floor like an ordinary blade. Naruto stared at it, then at his teacher, mouth opening and closing without sound.

"The Hokage has the entire village looking for you!" Iruka continued, striding forward. "Stealing the Scroll of Seals—what were you thinking?"

"But Mizuki-sensei said it was a special graduation test!" Naruto protested, finding his voice at last. "He told me if I learned a technique from this scroll, you'd have to let me pass!"

Iruka's expression shifted from anger to alarm. "Mizuki told you that?"

The whistle of shuriken cutting through air was their only warning. Iruka shoved Naruto aside as metal stars thudded into the tree where they'd been standing. Silver hair gleamed in the moonlight as Mizuki perched on a branch above them, two massive shuriken strapped to his back.

"Well done finding him, Iruka," Mizuki called, his friendly teacher's demeanor replaced by cold calculation. "I'll take the scroll now, Naruto."

Iruka pushed Naruto behind him. "Don't listen to him! He's trying to steal the scroll for himself!"

Mizuki's laugh echoed through the forest. "Oh, Iruka, always the protector. Even of a monster like him?"

"Shut up, Mizuki!" Iruka snarled.

"Monster?" Naruto echoed, confusion etched across his face. "What are you talking about?"

Mizuki's grin turned cruel. "Should I tell him, Iruka? Should I tell him why the village hates him? Why everyone avoids the demon child?"

"It's forbidden!" Iruka shouted. "Mizuki, don't!"

"Twelve years ago," Mizuki continued, ignoring Iruka's protest, "the Nine-Tailed Fox attacked our village. You've been told the Fourth Hokage killed it, but that's a lie! He couldn't kill it—so he sealed it inside a newborn baby." His eyes bored into Naruto's. "Inside you, Naruto. You are the Nine-Tailed Fox!"

The words crashed over Naruto like ice water. Suddenly, everything made terrible sense—the hateful glares, the whispered insults, the isolation. His hands trembled as he processed the revelation.

"That's why everyone hates me," he whispered. "I'm a... monster."

"Don't listen to him, Naruto!" Iruka called desperately. "You're not the fox—you're its jailer! You protect the village by containing it!"

Mizuki reached for one of his massive shuriken. "Enough talk. Give me the scroll, demon, or die where you stand!"

The massive shuriken spun toward Naruto, a blur of deadly metal. Time seemed to slow as Naruto watched it approach, his body frozen in shock.

A metallic clang rang through the forest as black metal intercepted the attack. The sword—moving of its own volition—had leapt between Naruto and certain death. The shuriken's momentum vanished upon contact with the blade, the weapon dropping harmlessly to the ground.

"What the hell?" Mizuki gasped.

The sword hovered before Naruto, pulsing with anticipation. Without conscious thought, he reached for the hilt. The moment his fingers closed around it, power surged through his limbs—not his own chakra, but something the sword had absorbed from his clones.

"You think I'm a demon?" Naruto called, eyes flashing with newfound determination. "Fine! Then I'll show you what a demon can do!"

Mizuki snarled, launching his second shuriken while forming hand signs. "Fire Style: Phoenix Flower Jutsu!"

Flaming projectiles erupted from his mouth, streaking toward Naruto alongside the spinning shuriken. Iruka shouted a warning, moving to intercept, but Naruto was faster.

The sword cut through the air in a black arc, its edge passing through the flames. The fire jutsu unraveled instantly, chakra dissipating like mist in sunlight. The shuriken met the same fate, its momentum vanishing mid-spin.

Mizuki's eyes widened in horror. "That's—that's impossible!"

"This is just getting started!" Naruto charged forward, the sword singing through the air.

Mizuki leapt backward, hands flying through more signs. "Earth Style: Mud Wall!"

A barrier of chakra-infused earth erupted from the ground—only to crumble as the black blade sliced through it like paper. Naruto burst through the disintegrating wall, the sword leading his charge with hungry eagerness.

"Stay back!" Mizuki screamed, genuine fear replacing his earlier confidence. He hurled kunai that Naruto deflected effortlessly, the blade moving almost of its own accord.

When Naruto closed the distance, Mizuki drew a standard-issue chunin sword, raising it to block. The black sword sheared through the metal like it wasn't there, continuing its arc toward Mizuki's shoulder.

At the last instant, Naruto twisted his wrist, striking with the flat of the blade instead of its edge. Mizuki crashed to the ground, his chakra network momentarily disrupted by contact with the weapon.

"I could have killed you," Naruto said quietly, standing over the fallen chunin. "Remember that."

Mizuki lay motionless, conscious but unable to mold chakra. The sword pulsed in Naruto's grip, radiating disappointment. It had wanted more—wanted to cut deeper, drink fuller.

"More..." The word whispered through Naruto's mind, unmistakably coming from the blade itself.

Naruto shuddered, suddenly aware of the weapon's desires as if they were his own. It wanted to consume Mizuki entirely—to devour every drop of chakra until nothing remained but an empty husk.

"No," Naruto responded firmly, though no sound passed his lips. "That's not who I am."

The sword's presence in his mind receded sullenly, but Naruto felt its hunger lingering at the edges of his consciousness—patient, ancient, willing to wait.

Iruka approached cautiously, eying the blade with newfound wariness. "Naruto? Are you alright?"

"It spoke to me, Iruka-sensei," Naruto whispered, not taking his eyes off the sword. "It wanted me to kill him."

"The Hokage warned this might happen," Iruka said grimly. "The sword gains sentience through absorbed chakra."

"What do I do?"

"You did right, resisting its influence." Iruka placed a reassuring hand on Naruto's shoulder. "That's the challenge of wielding such a weapon—maintaining your own will against its hunger."

Naruto nodded slowly, rewrapping the blade in its sealing cloth. Even muffled by the special fabric, he could feel its pulse against his back—no longer in sync with his heartbeat, but establishing its own rhythm.

As ANBU arrived to take Mizuki into custody, Iruka pulled Naruto aside, a peculiar smile playing across his scarred face.

"Close your eyes for a moment," he instructed.

Naruto complied, feeling Iruka's hands adjusting something around his forehead. When he opened his eyes, his teacher stood before him, his own forehead bare.

"Congratulations, Naruto," Iruka said warmly. "You pass."

Fingers trembling, Naruto touched the metal plate now tied to his head—a Konoha headband. His very own.

"But—the exam—I failed the clone technique—"

"The Shadow Clone Jutsu is an A-rank technique," Iruka explained. "Far beyond Academy level. Anyone who can master that deserves to be a genin... especially someone who chose mercy when they could have chosen vengeance."

Tears welled in Naruto's eyes. For one perfect moment, the sword's hunger receded completely, overshadowed by pure joy.

That night, as Naruto slept with his new headband clutched to his chest, the sword pulsed in the corner of his small apartment. Its inscriptions glowed dimly in the darkness, casting blood-red patterns across the wall. The brief taste of Mizuki's chakra and the feast of Naruto's clones had awakened something within its ancient metal—a consciousness dormant for generations.

The boy had potential beyond measure—power beyond anything it had tasted in centuries. The Nine-Tails' chakra simmered beneath the surface, a banquet waiting to be consumed. But the sword was patient. It had waited generations for an Uzumaki worthy of its power.

It could wait a little longer.

In the deep recesses of Naruto's mind, behind a massive gate, slitted red eyes opened in darkness. The Nine-Tailed Fox stirred, sensing the sword's awakening consciousness.

Two ancient enemies—chakra incarnate and chakra's bane—now shared a single vessel.

And Naruto Uzumaki, newly minted genin of the Hidden Leaf, slept on, unaware of the war beginning to brew within him.

# Chapter 3: Team Formation

Morning light streamed through the windows of the Academy classroom, dust motes dancing in golden shafts that sliced across rows of eager genin. Naruto fidgeted in his seat, the unfamiliar weight of his headband a constant, exhilarating reminder of his new status. The sword lay across his back, meticulously wrapped in layers of crimson sealing cloth inscribed with faded Uzumaki spirals. Despite the wrappings, he could feel it pulsing against his spine like a second heartbeat—restless, impatient.

"Settle down, everyone!" Iruka called over the excited chatter. His eyes lingered briefly on Naruto, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Today you'll be assigned to your three-person teams under a jōnin instructor."

Around him, the classroom buzzed with anticipation. Naruto scanned the room, heart hammering. Friends, rivals, strangers—they would become his comrades today.

"I wonder who'll be stuck with the dead-last," someone whispered loudly enough for Naruto to hear.

"Hope it's not me," came the swift reply. "Bad enough he somehow passed—now we're supposed to trust him with our lives?"

The whispers cut deeper than they would have days ago. Now Naruto understood their true source—not just his pranks or his failures, but the demon sealed within him. His fingers twitched toward the sword, seeking its cold reassurance.

A flash of pink caught his eye as Sakura Haruno strode into the room, tossing her hair with practiced elegance. Naruto's heart performed its usual gymnastics at the sight of her, but today there was something different in the way she carried herself—the proud set of her shoulders beneath her red dress, the glint of metal on her forehead.

"Sakura-chan!" he called, waving frantically. "Over here!"

She glanced his way, jade eyes widening in surprise. "Naruto? You passed?"

"Sure did!" He tapped his headband proudly. "Believe it!"

Before she could respond, Sasuke Uchiha entered the classroom, hands thrust deep in his pockets, dark eyes unreadable as always. A hushed reverence fell over the girls as he passed, the academy's top student trailing an aura of brooding intensity in his wake.

"Sasuke-kun!" Sakura's attention immediately shifted, her voice rising an octave. She rushed to claim the seat beside him, elbowing aside another would-be admirer.

Naruto scowled. Some things never changed.

Iruka cleared his throat, unrolling a scroll with deliberate ceremony. "Team Seven will consist of Haruno Sakura, Uzumaki Naruto—"

"YES!" Naruto leaped to his feet, punching the air victoriously while Sakura slumped in despair.

"—and Uchiha Sasuke."

The room erupted. Sakura's shriek of delight collided with Naruto's howl of outrage, creating a discordant duet that made Iruka wince.

"Why am I stuck with him?" Naruto demanded, jabbing a finger toward Sasuke, who remained impassive.

"The teams are balanced based on your Academy performances," Iruka explained patiently. "Sasuke had the highest scores, while you, Naruto, had the lowest."

Laughter rippled through the classroom. Naruto felt heat rush to his face, embarrassment battling with indignation. The sword across his back pulsed faster, responding to his agitation with hungry anticipation. He forced his hands to unclench, remembering the Third's warnings about emotional control when carrying the blade.

"Your jōnin instructor will be Hatake Kakashi," Iruka continued, oblivious to the silent struggle.

As Iruka finished announcing the remaining teams, Naruto slumped back into his seat, casting a baleful glance at his new teammate. Sasuke stared straight ahead, seemingly indifferent to the arrangement, though a muscle twitched in his jaw.

"Working with you will just slow me down," Sasuke muttered, barely moving his lips.

"You wish, pretty boy," Naruto shot back. "I've got tricks you've never seen."

Sasuke's dark eyes flicked briefly to the wrapped bundle on Naruto's back. "Like what? Another stupid prank jutsu?"

Before Naruto could retort, a shadow fell across them. Sakura stood over their desks, hands on her hips, green eyes sharp with determination.

"Listen up, both of you," she said with surprising authority. "We're a team now, whether we like it or not. So you two either figure out how to work together, or we all fail together. Got it?"

Naruto blinked, momentarily stunned by this new, assertive Sakura. Even Sasuke seemed taken aback, though he masked it quickly with a noncommittal "Hmph."

"What's that thing anyway?" Sakura asked, gesturing to the wrapped bundle. "You didn't have it during the Academy."

Naruto's hand moved protectively toward the sword. "Just something that belongs to my clan," he said evasively, the Third's warnings about secrecy still fresh in his mind.

"Your clan?" Sasuke's attention sharpened, dark eyes narrowing. "You're an orphan."

The words stung with familiar pain, but Naruto lifted his chin defiantly. "I'm an Uzumaki. And this is an Uzumaki heirloom."

Before either of his teammates could press further, the classroom door slid open to admit a procession of jōnin instructors. One by one, teams were collected by their new mentors, the room gradually emptying until only Team Seven remained, sitting in increasingly restless silence.

One hour stretched into two. Sakura paced the room, muttering about punctuality. Sasuke remained motionless at his desk, though the tension in his shoulders betrayed his growing irritation. Naruto, unable to contain himself any longer, wedged an eraser between the door and frame—his small revenge for their tardy sensei.

"He's a jōnin, idiot," Sasuke scoffed. "He won't fall for such a childish trap."

"Sasuke's right," Sakura agreed quickly, though her eyes gleamed with secret anticipation.

The door slid open. The eraser fell. A cloud of chalk dust erupted over silver hair.

Time froze as they stared at the tall, masked jōnin now standing in the doorway, chalk dust settling on his gravity-defying silver hair. One lazy eye regarded them from a face otherwise obscured by a mask and tilted headband.

"My first impression of you all," the man drawled, brushing chalk from his shoulder, "is that you're idiots."

Three faces fell in perfect unison.

"Meet me on the roof in five minutes." The jōnin vanished in a swirl of leaves, leaving only the fallen eraser as evidence he'd been there at all.

---

The rooftop offered a panoramic view of Konoha, the afternoon sun gilding the Hokage Monument in the distance. Team Seven sat clustered on stone steps while their new sensei leaned against the railing, regarding them with what might have been amusement—it was hard to tell with most of his face covered.

"Let's begin with introductions," he suggested. "Names, likes, dislikes, hobbies, dreams for the future—that sort of thing."

"Why don't you go first, Sensei?" Sakura prompted, still smarting from his earlier dismissal.

"Me? I'm Hatake Kakashi. Things I like and dislike...I don't feel like telling you. My dreams for the future...never really thought about it. As for my hobbies...I have lots of hobbies."

"That was totally useless," Sakura whispered to her teammates. "All we learned was his name."

"Now you, Pinky," Kakashi pointed to Sakura, who bristled at the nickname.

"I'm Haruno Sakura. What I like—I mean, the person I like is..." She cast a sideways glance at Sasuke, cheeks flushing pink. "My hobby is..." Another glance, another blush. "My dream for the future..." A giggle, a third glance.

"And your dislikes?" Kakashi prompted.

"NARUTO!" she declared emphatically.

Naruto clutched his chest as if physically wounded. The sword on his back vibrated subtly, responding to the spike of emotion.

"Next, Broody," Kakashi nodded toward Sasuke.

"Uchiha Sasuke. I dislike many things and like very few. What I have isn't a dream, because I will make it reality. I'm going to restore my clan and kill a certain someone."

Silence fell over the rooftop. Naruto inched slightly away from his teammate, while Sakura gazed at him with renewed adoration.

"And finally, Blondie," Kakashi gestured to Naruto.

Naruto sat up straight, adjusting his headband with a determined grin. "I'm Uzumaki Naruto! I like ramen, especially when Iruka-sensei treats me at Ichiraku! I dislike the three minutes it takes to cook instant ramen. My hobbies are comparing different kinds of ramen and—" His hand moved unconsciously to the wrapped sword. "—training with my..."

"Your what?" Kakashi prompted, his single visible eye suddenly more focused.

"My sword," Naruto finished, defiant now. "And my dream is to become the greatest Hokage ever! Then the whole village will stop disrespecting me and treat me like I'm somebody important!"

Kakashi's gaze lingered on the wrapped bundle at Naruto's back. Something flickered across his visible eye—recognition, perhaps, or concern.

"Interesting," he said finally, pushing off the railing. "Tomorrow we'll begin our duties as shinobi."

"What kind of duties?" Naruto asked eagerly.

"Survival training."

"Training?" Sakura frowned. "But we did plenty of training at the Academy."

Kakashi's eye crinkled in what might have been a smile. "This isn't like your previous training. You'll have to survive against me." He leaned forward conspiratorially. "Of the twenty-seven graduates, only nine will actually become genin. The rest will be sent back to the Academy. This training is a highly difficult test with a failure rate of over sixty-six percent!"

Their expressions of shock seemed to please him immensely.

"Bring all your shinobi tools tomorrow at 5 AM. Oh, and skip breakfast—you'll throw up." With a casual two-fingered salute, he vanished again, leaving three stunned genin on the rooftop.

As they filed toward the stairs, Kakashi reappeared in a nearby tree, his presence completely masked. His eye narrowed as he watched Naruto adjust the wrapped bundle on his back—a gesture too careful, too practiced for a typical Academy student. The boy's chakra signature flickered oddly, like a candle in a draft, simultaneously too vast and strangely muted.

"So that's where it went," he murmured to himself, remembering a sealed scroll in the Hokage's archive—and the warning his sensei had given him years ago.

---

Dawn painted the training ground in watercolor hues of gold and pink, dew glistening on the grass like scattered diamonds. Three bleary-eyed genin huddled near three wooden posts, stomachs growling in unified protest.

"He's late again," Sakura groaned, checking the position of the sun. Three hours had passed since their scheduled meeting time.

Naruto paced restlessly, the sword a constant weight against his spine. He'd slept poorly, tormented by strange dreams of blood-red gates and glowing eyes watching him from darkness. The sword's whispers had grown more insistent overnight—not quite words yet, but impressions, urges, hunger.

Sasuke leaned against one of the posts, outwardly calm, but the tight coil of his posture betrayed his irritation. His dark eyes occasionally flicked to the wrapped bundle on Naruto's back, curiosity warring with disdain.

"Good morning, everyone!" Kakashi materialized in a swirl of leaves, eye crinkling in false cheer.

"YOU'RE LATE!" Naruto and Sakura accused in unison.

"Sorry, a black cat crossed my path, so I had to take the long way."

Three glares answered this transparent lie.

"Anyway..." Kakashi set an alarm clock on one of the posts. "This is set for noon." From his pocket, he produced two small bells that jingled softly in the morning breeze. "Your task is simple: take these bells from me. Whoever can't get a bell by noon fails and goes without lunch. That person will be tied to a post while the others eat in front of them."

Three stomachs growled in horrified understanding. That explained the no-breakfast instruction.

"Wait," Sakura pointed out, "there are only two bells."

"Exactly," Kakashi's eye crinkled again. "So at least one of you will fail and return to the Academy. You can use any weapons or techniques—attack as if you mean to kill, or you'll never succeed."

"But that's dangerous!" Sakura protested.

"Yeah!" Naruto chimed in. "You couldn't even dodge an eraser!"

Kakashi's gaze settled on him, suddenly cool. "Those who bark loudest are often the weakest. Let's ignore the dead-last and begin when I say—"

"DEAD-LAST?!" Naruto erupted, patience obliterated by the familiar taunt. Hand flashing to his kunai pouch, he lunged forward—

—only to find himself immobilized, his own kunai pointed at the back of his neck, Kakashi behind him holding his arm in an iron grip.

"I didn't say start yet," the jōnin said mildly.

Naruto froze, shocked. He hadn't even seen Kakashi move.

"At least you struck to kill," Kakashi observed, releasing him. "Maybe you're starting to respect me?" He stepped back, surveying all three genin. "Ready... begin!"

Three blurs of motion scattered into the surrounding forest.

Hiding was the first lesson of shinobi combat—concealment, observation, planning. Sakura vanished into dense underbrush, her chakra signature dampened to near invisibility. Sasuke melted into the shadows of a large tree, body pressed against rough bark, breathing controlled and silent.

And Naruto...

"Let's have a fair fight, right now, one on one!" he declared, standing brazenly in the middle of the clearing, pointing dramatically at Kakashi.

Kakashi stared at him. "You're a bit... off, aren't you?"

"The only thing off is your haircut!" Naruto charged forward, fist cocked back for a punch.

Kakashi sighed, reaching into his weapons pouch. Naruto skidded to a halt, tense for whatever deadly tool the jōnin might produce.

It was a book. A small orange book that Kakashi opened casually, beginning to read even as Naruto gaped at him.

"What the hell?! Why are you reading during a fight?!"

"To find out what happens next, of course," Kakashi answered without looking up. "Don't worry, it won't make any difference against your attacks."

Fury blazed through Naruto's veins. The sword on his back thrummed with sympathetic energy, its whispers growing louder in his mind. Show him. Use me.

"I'll crush you!" Naruto launched forward again, throwing a wild haymaker that Kakashi dodged without even glancing up from his book. A kick followed, passing through empty air as the jōnin stepped casually aside. Punch, kick, lunge—each attack met nothing but air.

"A shinobi's basic tactics, lesson one: Taijutsu," Kakashi intoned, still reading. In a blur of movement, he appeared behind Naruto, hands formed in a seal. "Hidden Leaf Ancient Supreme Technique: One Thousand Years of Death!"

From her hiding place, Sakura winced as Naruto went soaring into the air, hands clasped to his posterior, face a mask of indignation. He crashed into the nearby pond with a spectacular splash.

"That wasn't a technique at all," she muttered. "It was just a super-powered ass-poke."

Underwater, Naruto seethed. Humiliation burned hotter than the pain. The sword pulsed against his back, its vibrations thrumming through the water around him. Its wordless hunger had crystallized into something clearer: Use me. Cut him. Show your power.

Air bubbles escaped from Naruto's clenched teeth. No. Not yet. He wouldn't reveal his trump card so early. First, he'd try his new jutsu—the one technique that worked despite the sword's interference.

Hands forming a cross-shaped seal beneath the water, Naruto concentrated. "Shadow Clone Jutsu!"

The pond's surface erupted as five perfect copies of Naruto burst into the air, water streaming from their identical orange jumpsuits. They surrounded Kakashi, who finally glanced up from his book with mild interest.

"Real clones, not illusions," he noted. "The Shadow Clone Technique. Impressive for a genin... but still not enough."

Five Narutos attacked at once. Kakashi's book disappeared as he moved with fluid grace, deflecting and countering each clone with perfect economy of motion. One by one, they popped into smoke under his precise strikes—until he suddenly found himself immobilized from behind, a sixth Naruto having snuck up during the confusion.

"A shinobi shouldn't let the enemy get behind him, right, Kakashi-sensei?" Naruto crowed triumphantly.

The remaining clones descended on Kakashi—only for their target to transform into Naruto himself as the jōnin substituted one of the clones in his place. In the chaos that followed, the clones attacked each other in confusion before dispelling in puffs of smoke.

Naruto stood alone again, frustration mounting as Kakashi reappeared at the clearing's edge, book back in hand.

From his hiding place, Sasuke watched the exchange with calculating eyes. So that's the level of a jōnin, he thought. But something's off about Naruto today—that's not the same dead-last from the Academy.

The sun climbed higher. Naruto's repeated frontal assaults met with increasingly humiliating failures. Sasuke attempted an ambush with fire techniques and shuriken that nearly succeeded—close enough to touch a bell before Kakashi escaped. Sakura fell victim to a simple genjutsu that showed her a mortally wounded Sasuke, fainting dead away at the illusion.

As noon approached, desperation settled over the training ground. Naruto found himself tied to one of the posts after an ill-fated attempt to steal lunch early, while his teammates sat exhausted on either side of him.

The sword's whispers had grown to a constant, irritating buzz in the back of his mind. Weak. Foolish. Use me.

"By the way," Kakashi addressed them, standing before the bound Naruto with arms crossed, "about this exercise... I've decided to send all of you back to the Academy."

Silence, then—

"WHAT?!" Naruto thrashed against his ropes. "Why?!"

"Because none of you understand what it means to be a ninja," Kakashi said coldly. "Why do you think we put you in three-person teams?"

"Teamwork," Sakura whispered, realization dawning.

"Exactly. Yet Sasuke, you assumed the others would hold you back and acted alone. Sakura, you focused only on Sasuke and ignored Naruto who was right in front of you. And Naruto, you tried to do everything by yourself."

Three heads hung in shame.

"Missions are carried out in teams for a reason," Kakashi continued, moving toward a large stone monument at the edge of the training ground. "Look at this—the names carved on this stone. They're heroes of our village."

"That's it! I'll get my name carved on that stone!" Naruto declared, renewed enthusiasm breaking through his disappointment. "Then everyone will acknowledge me!"

"These are a special kind of hero," Kakashi said quietly.

"What kind of heroes are they?" Naruto pressed.

"KIA—Killed in Action. This is a memorial for those who died in service to the village. My best friend's name is carved here."

The clearing fell silent. Even the birds seemed to pause their songs in respect.

Kakashi turned back to face them, his single eye grave. "I'll give you one more chance after lunch. But it will be even harder this afternoon. Eat if you want to build up strength—but don't give any to Naruto. That's his punishment for trying to cheat. Anyone who feeds him automatically fails."

With that warning, Kakashi vanished again, leaving two bento boxes and one very hungry, very bound Naruto.

Sasuke and Sakura opened their lunches, eating in uncomfortable silence. Naruto's stomach groaned loudly, an embarrassingly honest protest.

"I'm fine!" he insisted, belied by another ferocious growl. "I can go without eating for days! Weeks, even!"

Sasuke stared at his food, then thrust his half-eaten bento toward Naruto. "Here."

"Sasuke-kun!" Sakura gasped. "You heard what Kakashi-sensei said!"

"He's not around right now," Sasuke replied, not meeting either of their eyes. "We need to get those bells as a team. If Naruto's hungry, he'll be weak and ineffective, which jeopardizes the mission."

A moment passed as Sakura processed this logic. Then, with a small smile, she offered her lunch as well. "Here. I'm on a diet anyway."

Naruto blinked rapidly, something suspiciously like tears gathering in his eyes. "Guys..."

"Just hurry up and eat!" Sakura commanded, glancing nervously over her shoulder.

"Um, small problem," Naruto nodded toward his bound arms. "I can't exactly..."

Sakura's face flamed red. "I am NOT feeding you!"

"Just this once," Sasuke muttered, lifting chopsticks to Naruto's mouth.

The moment Naruto accepted the first bite, a massive explosion of smoke erupted before them. The sky darkened with sudden storm clouds, and Kakashi loomed from the smoke like an avenging demon.

"YOU THREE!" he thundered.

Sasuke tensed, ready to fight. Sakura shrieked, throwing her arms up protectively. Naruto squirmed frantically against his bonds.

"Pass," Kakashi finished, eye crinkling into a smile as the genjutsu storm dissipated.

"Huh?" three voices chorused.

"You pass," he repeated. "You're the first team that's ever succeeded. Everyone else just did what I told them, like mindless drones." His voice softened. "In the ninja world, those who break the rules are scum. But those who abandon their friends are worse than scum."

Something tight in Naruto's chest uncoiled at those words. Even the sword's whispers quieted momentarily, as if considering this new philosophy.

"Team Seven begins its first mission tomorrow!" Kakashi announced with a dramatic thumbs-up. "Let's go."

Sasuke and Sakura rose to follow, relief evident in their postures. Kakashi started to walk away, then paused, turning back to the still-bound Naruto.

"Before we celebrate, I'm curious about something." He approached Naruto slowly, eye fixed on the wrapped bundle visible above the ropes. "What exactly is that you're carrying, Naruto?"

Naruto's pulse quickened. "Just a family heirloom, like I told the others."

"An Uzumaki heirloom?" Kakashi's tone was light, but his eye had lost its crinkle. "Mind if I take a look?"

The sword's whispers intensified to an urgent hum, like disturbed hornets. Danger. Threat. Use me.

"Actually, I—" Naruto began, but Kakashi was already circling behind the post, examining the wrapped bundle.

"Interesting sealing work," he commented, fingers hovering just above the cloth. "Your clan was renowned for their fuinjutsu. But these particular seals... I've seen them before."

The jōnin's hand descended toward the wrappings. The moment his fingers brushed the cloth, a visible spark of chakra leapt between them. Kakashi jerked back, his single eye widening in surprise.

"Hungry little thing, isn't it?" he murmured, flexing his tingling fingers.

The sword pulsed visibly now, even through its wrappings, red light seeping between the fibers of the sealing cloth like blood through bandages. Its whispers in Naruto's mind had become a single, urgent command: RELEASE ME.

"Stop!" Naruto cried, struggling harder against his bonds. "Don't touch it again!"

"Naruto, what is that thing?" Sakura demanded, taking a step backward as the red glow intensified.

Sasuke hadn't retreated, his dark eyes fixed on the pulsing weapon with naked interest. "This is what you were hiding," he said quietly.

Kakashi reached for his headband, lifting it to reveal a scarred eyelid. When it opened, a fully matured Sharingan stared at the sword, spinning slowly as it analyzed the chakra patterns.

"As I thought," he said grimly. "The Chakra Devourer."

The ropes around Naruto suddenly snapped, severed by an invisible force. The wrappings around the sword began to unravel of their own accord, crimson cloth slithering away like living snakes. Naruto grabbed desperately for the hilt as the blade emerged, its black surface drinking in the sunlight, red inscriptions burning like fresh embers.

"Stay back!" he warned his teammates, struggling to control the sword as it pulled at his arm, straining toward Kakashi—or more specifically, toward the whirling Sharingan.

"Everyone, keep your distance," Kakashi ordered, stepping away but keeping his Sharingan fixed on the weapon. "Naruto, you need to rewrap it now."

"I'm trying!" Naruto gritted his teeth, muscles straining as he fought to lower the sword. It felt impossibly heavy, yet also bizarrely weightless, as if it existed partially in another dimension. "It's never done this before!"

Sasuke edged closer despite Kakashi's warning, fascination overriding caution. "What is that thing? How is it moving on its own?"

"It's not just a sword," Kakashi explained tightly, maintaining his distance. "It's a sentient chakra-absorbing weapon from before the founding of the hidden villages. And right now, it's very interested in my Sharingan."

The sword jerked in Naruto's grip, nearly pulling free as it strained toward the dōjutsu. Naruto planted his feet, throwing his whole weight backward, but the blade dragged him forward inch by inch, gouging furrows in the dirt.

"Kakashi-sensei!" Sakura cried in alarm. "Cover your eye!"

But it was too late. With a final tremendous heave, the sword tore from Naruto's grasp, flying directly at Kakashi's exposed Sharingan. The jōnin barely managed to dodge, the blade whistling past his face close enough to sever a few strands of silver hair.

The sword embedded itself in the memorial stone with a sound like shattering glass. Cracks radiated outward from the point of impact, strange black energy crawling along the fissures like living frost.

Naruto fell to his knees, sudden exhaustion crashing over him as the sword's connection temporarily severed. He could still feel it—a hook lodged somewhere behind his navel, pulling insistently—but its voice had gone silent.

Kakashi approached the embedded blade cautiously, his Sharingan scanning for energy patterns. "The sword disrupts chakra flow," he observed, keeping a respectful distance. "It's feeding on the ambient chakra in the memorial stone now—chakra left by years of visitors paying respects."

"Is that why it went for your Sharingan?" Sasuke asked, moving to stand beside Kakashi, eyes fixed on the weapon with newfound intensity. "Because it uses chakra?"

"Precisely." Kakashi lowered his headband back over his eye. "The Sharingan is essentially a chakra-manipulation dōjutsu. To that sword, it probably looks like a gourmet meal."

"I'm sorry," Naruto said miserably, staggering to his feet. "I've been training with it, but never...it never went crazy like this before."

"It sensed a powerful chakra source," Kakashi reasoned, turning to face Naruto fully. "The Third Hokage entrusted you with this weapon?"

Naruto nodded, approaching the stone cautiously. "He said it belonged to my clan—to the Uzumaki. Said I'm supposed to learn to control it."

"That's why your chakra felt strange," Kakashi mused. "It's been feeding on you, hasn't it? Taking small amounts constantly?"

Another nod, as Naruto reached for the sword's hilt. The black energy crawling along the cracks in the stone retreated back into the blade at his touch. With one smooth motion, he pulled it free, the stone healing behind it as if eager to expel the foreign object.

The sword lay quiescent in his hands now, its earlier frenzy replaced by satiated torpor. The red inscriptions still glowed, but dimly, like embers after a feast.

"So it can counter the Sharingan," Sasuke said, a strange edge to his voice. His dark eyes gleamed with something that might have been envy or calculation. "It could work against any dōjutsu, then?"

"Theoretically," Kakashi agreed, watching Sasuke carefully. "Though not in Naruto's hands—not yet, anyway. He can barely control it."

"I'm learning!" Naruto protested, cradling the sword defensively. "The old man and Iruka-sensei have been helping me train."

"And now I will too," Kakashi said firmly, surprising all three genin. "If you're going to carry that thing as a member of Team Seven, you need to master it. Otherwise, it's a liability."

Sakura, who had maintained a cautious distance throughout the exchange, finally stepped forward. "Can it really... eat chakra?" she asked, scientific curiosity overcoming her fear.

"Not just eat it—erase it." Naruto demonstrated by channeling a small amount of chakra to his fingertip, creating a faint blue glow, then touching it to the blade. The chakra vanished instantly, the inscription nearest the contact point flaring brighter for a moment. "It doesn't just absorb the energy—it removes it completely. Like it never existed."

Sasuke's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "A weapon that can erase chakra," he murmured, almost to himself. "Even the most powerful techniques would be useless against it."

The gleam in the Uchiha's eye made something twist uncomfortably in Naruto's gut. The sword, sensing his unease, pulsed once in his grip—not hungry now, but... possessive?

"Enough show and tell for today," Kakashi declared, clapping his hands together. "Naruto, wrap that thing back up. Properly, this time. The rest of you—dismissed. We start our first official mission tomorrow at 8 AM."

As Naruto struggled to rewrap the sword, Sasuke lingered, watching the process with undisguised interest.

"Need some help, dead-last?" he finally offered, though the usual contempt in the nickname had been replaced by something more calculating.

"I've got it," Naruto muttered, finally securing the last sealing tag. The sword's presence in his mind had receded to a distant hum, satisfied for now. "But... thanks."

Sasuke nodded, turning to leave. "That sword," he said without looking back, "I want to see it in action again. A real fight, not just a demonstration."

"Be careful what you wish for," Kakashi called after him, having seemingly materialized behind Naruto. "That blade has a will of its own."

Once they were alone, Kakashi fixed Naruto with a serious stare. "Meet me here tomorrow at 5 AM. The real training begins then."

"But our mission—"

"Is at 8 AM, yes. I'm always late, remember?" Kakashi eye-smiled. "That gives us a couple of hours to work on your... control issues."

Naruto nodded solemnly, adjusting the rewrapped sword across his back. As Kakashi vanished in a swirl of leaves, he stood alone in the training ground, feeling the sword's satisfied pulse against his spine.

"You almost messed everything up today," he told it quietly. "We're supposed to be partners, not enemies."

The sword's only response was a faint pulse that might have been agreement or merely digestion.

---

Dusk settled over Konoha as the Third Hokage gazed out his office window, pipe smoke curling around his aged features. Behind him, Kakashi delivered his report on Team Seven's bell test—and the unexpected revelation of the Chakra Devourer.

"So it responded to your Sharingan," Hiruzen mused, tapping his pipe thoughtfully. "Interesting, but not unexpected. The sword hungers for powerful chakra sources."

"It nearly took my eye," Kakashi remarked dryly. "A bit more warning would have been appreciated, Hokage-sama."

Hiruzen turned, a small smile playing beneath his mustache. "Would you have accepted the team if you'd known?"

Kakashi considered this, then shrugged. "Probably not. Which I suspect is why you didn't tell me."

"The boy needs guidance, Kakashi. Not just with the sword, but with everything else sealed inside him." The old man's eyes grew distant. "Two great powers, bound within one child. The potential is staggering... and terrifying."

"And Sasuke's interest in the weapon?" Kakashi asked quietly. "I saw how he looked at it when he realized what it could do to dōjutsu."

"Keep them both close," Hiruzen advised, returning to his desk. "Teach them to balance power with wisdom. Perhaps they'll learn from each other what we cannot teach them ourselves."

Kakashi nodded, turning to leave. At the door, he paused. "I'm assigning ANBU surveillance, with your permission. Just until we're certain the sword is stable."

"Already done," Hiruzen confirmed, gesturing to the shadows where masked figures stood invisible to ordinary perception. "They've been watching since the day he found it."

As Kakashi departed, the Hokage returned to the window, watching lights kindle across the village as darkness fell. Somewhere out there, a boy slept with an ancient weapon beside his bed—a weapon that whispered secrets of forgotten gods and hungered for the very energy that powered their world.

"Minato," he murmured to the ghost of his successor, "your son walks a dangerous path. I hope we've prepared him well enough for what lies ahead."

The only answer was the distant call of crickets, and the faint pulse of ancient power that even now echoed through the bones of the hidden village.

# Chapter 4: The Land of Waves

Mist clung to the forest path like phantom breath, transforming mundane trees into looming sentinels. Team Seven moved in diamond formation around their client—Sakura and Sasuke flanking the sides, Kakashi leading point, and Naruto taking rear guard, his fingers twitching occasionally toward the wrapped bundle on his back.

"This is so BORING!" Naruto's voice shattered the silence, startling a flock of birds into frantic flight. "When are we going to see some action? We've been walking for days!"

Tazuna, the bridge builder they'd been hired to protect, took a long pull from his flask. "Shut it, short stuff. The less 'action' we see, the better."

"Naruto," Kakashi's voice carried the weary patience of a man who'd repeated himself too many times. "The purpose of an escort mission isn't to seek combat."

"But we're supposed to be ninja! Not hiking guides!"

Sakura spun, jade eyes flashing. "Will you STOP complaining? You've been whining since we left Konoha!"

"Both of you, quiet." Sasuke didn't raise his voice, but something in his tone cut through their bickering. His dark eyes scanned the mist-shrouded path ahead, muscles tensed like a predator sensing danger.

Naruto fell silent, not because of Sasuke's command, but because the sword across his back had suddenly grown warm, its weight shifting subtly as if alive and alert. The whispers that had become his constant companion intensified, coalescing into a single, urgent warning: Danger.

Twenty paces ahead, a puddle shimmered on the dirt road—innocuous except for one detail.

"It hasn't rained in weeks," Naruto muttered, eyes narrowing.

Two heartbeats later, hell erupted from that impossible puddle.

Serrated chains whipped through the air, wrapping around Kakashi before anyone could react. With a sickening crunch and spray of crimson, their sensei was torn apart, chunks of flesh scattering across the path.

"KAKASHI-SENSEI!" Sakura's scream pierced the air as two figures materialized from the dissipating water.

The Demon Brothers—missing-nin from Kirigakure—moved with lethal precision, their poisoned gauntlets glinting in the dappled sunlight, connected by a rattling chain that sang death as it sliced through the air.

"One down," the first rasped.

"Four to go," finished the second.

They charged.

The world slowed. Naruto's heart thundered in his ears as terror froze his limbs. These weren't Academy students or even a testing jōnin—these were killers, and they'd just shredded Kakashi before his eyes.

The sword screamed in his mind, a hungry, eager sound that jolted him from paralysis. His hand moved toward it instinctively, but Sasuke was already in motion, a blur of blue and white. A shuriken pinned the brothers' chain to a tree trunk, followed by a kunai that locked it into place. The Uchiha landed on their gauntlets with perfect balance, delivering brutal kicks to their masked faces.

The chain snapped as the brothers separated, one lunging toward Tazuna, the other toward Naruto.

"PROTECT THE BRIDGE BUILDER!" Sasuke shouted, spinning to intercept the first attacker.

The second brother closed on Naruto, poisoned claws extended like mantis arms. "Die, brat!"

Naruto's fingers closed around the sword's hilt. The sealing cloth unraveled with a thought, as if eager to be shed. The black blade sang as it cleared its wrappings, crimson inscriptions blazing in the mist-filtered light.

The attacking ninja faltered, eyes widening behind his mask. "What the—"

Naruto swung the sword in a desperate, clumsy arc. It should have been easily dodged, but the blade seemed to bend reality around it, stretching to meet the attacker's gauntlet. Metal met metal with a sound like shattering glass.

The poison-tipped claws disintegrated on contact, chakra-forged steel crumbling to dust. The missing-nin staggered backward, staring in horror at his ruined weapon.

"My gauntlet—!" His shock was cut short as Kakashi materialized behind him, one arm locking around his throat in a sleeper hold.

"Sorry I'm late to the party," their sensei drawled, the "corpse" on the road revealed as nothing more than shattered logs.

In seconds, both attackers were unconscious and bound to a tree, Kakashi looming over them with deceptive casualness. But Naruto barely registered this victory. He stared at the sword in his hands, watching in fascination as the red inscriptions brightened momentarily, pulsing like a heartbeat before settling back to their usual glow.

"It ate their weapons," he whispered.

"Not just the weapons," Kakashi noted, examining the unconscious ninja. "Their chakra networks are temporarily disrupted where the blade made contact. Interesting."

"You used us as bait," Sasuke accused, though something like respect flickered in his dark eyes. "You wanted to see who they were targeting."

"A jōnin has to think beyond the obvious." Kakashi's gaze shifted to Tazuna, who suddenly found his sandals fascinating. "Now, bridge builder, perhaps you'd like to explain why two chunin-level missing-nin are hunting you on what was supposed to be a simple C-rank escort mission?"

---

The fog on the great lake stretched like an endless white void, transforming their small boat into a ghost ship navigating between worlds. Moisture beaded on Naruto's skin, cold and clammy as the ferryman's pole dipped rhythmically into invisible waters. Tazuna's confession had changed everything—what had begun as a routine escort had escalated into a potential confrontation with one of the most dangerous missing-nin in Kirigakure's bloody history.

Gato. Shipping magnate. Drug smuggler. Tyrant.

"We should abort," Sakura whispered, jade eyes darting nervously through the impenetrable mist. "This is a B-rank mission now, possibly A-rank. We're not ready."

"That's for Kakashi-sensei to decide," Sasuke murmured, though the tension in his shoulders betrayed his own unease.

Naruto remained uncharacteristically silent, one hand pressed against the wrapped sword on his back. Ever since the encounter with the Demon Brothers, the blade had been restless, its whispers a constant tide of anticipation in his mind. It had tasted combat and wanted more—a hunger that resonated frighteningly with something deep inside him.

"Naruto." Kakashi's voice cut through his thoughts. "You're unusually quiet."

"The sword," Naruto admitted softly. "It's... excited."

"Excited?" Sakura frowned.

"It wants to fight again. I can feel it."

Sasuke's gaze sharpened with interest. "You talk about it like it's alive."

"Because it is." Naruto met his teammate's eyes. "After it touched those ninja's weapons, it's been... I don't know... whispering more. Like it got a taste of something it's been craving."

"Chakra-infused weaponry," Kakashi mused, visible eye calculating. "Probably more satisfying than the ambient chakra it's been feeding on from you."

The ferryman tensed, pole faltering mid-stroke. "What are you people talking about?"

"Nothing that concerns you," Kakashi replied pleasantly. "How much farther?"

"We're nearly there. The bridge should be visible soon."

As if summoned by his words, a massive silhouette materialized through the fog—Tazuna's unfinished bridge, its skeletal structure reaching across the water like the spine of some mythical leviathan.

"It's huge!" Naruto exclaimed, momentarily distracted from the sword's whispers.

"Quiet!" the ferryman hissed. "Why do you think we're not using the engine? Gato has spies everywhere. One sound and we're dead!"

They lapsed into tense silence as the boat glided beneath the bridge's shadow, emerging finally at a small, dilapidated dock. Mist still clung to the shoreline, but thinner here, revealing glimpses of a village on the verge of collapse—weathered houses, empty markets, hollow-eyed children watching their arrival with wary hope.

"This is as far as I go," the ferryman declared, already pushing away from the dock. "Good luck. You'll need it."

"Well," Kakashi sighed, adjusting his headband, "since we're apparently continuing this suicide mission, stay sharp. If we encounter more enemies, they'll be jōnin-level—like the infamous Demon of the Mist."

"You say that like it's a foregone conclusion," Sakura muttered.

"With our luck?" Kakashi eye-smiled. "Absolutely."

They hadn't traveled half a mile through the coastal forest when Naruto hurled a kunai into a nearby bush. A terrified white rabbit burst from the foliage, frozen in shock as the blade embedded itself in the tree behind it.

"Naruto, you idiot!" Sakura smacked the back of his head. "Stop being so jumpy!"

"But I sensed something!" Naruto protested, rubbing his skull. "It wasn't just me—the sword felt it too!"

Kakashi's eye narrowed, scanning the seemingly innocent rabbit. "White fur in spring," he muttered. "That's a domesticated rabbit, used for—"

"GET DOWN!" Sasuke's warning came a split second before a massive blade scythed through the air where their heads had been, embedding itself in a tree trunk with enough force to shear halfway through the wood.

A figure materialized atop the sword's handle—a tall, muscular man with bandages covering the lower half of his face, bare-chested despite the chill, his hitai-ate bearing the slashed symbol of Kirigakure.

"Well, well," the newcomer's voice rasped like blade on stone. "Copy Ninja Kakashi of the Sharingan. No wonder the Demon Brothers failed."

"Zabuza Momochi," Kakashi answered calmly, though his hand moved to his headband. "Demon of the Hidden Mist. A-rank missing-nin and former member of the Seven Swordsmen."

"I'm flattered you know me." Zabuza's eyes—cold as a shark's—swept over the genin with dismissive contempt. "Hand over the bridge builder and I might let the children live."

"Manji formation!" Kakashi barked, lifting his headband to reveal his spinning Sharingan. "Protect Tazuna!"

Sakura, Sasuke, and Naruto snapped into position around their client as dense, unnatural fog began to roll in, chakra-infused mist that reduced visibility to arm's length.

"Eight points," Zabuza's disembodied voice drifted through the fog, seeming to come from everywhere at once. "Larynx, spine, lungs, liver, jugular, subclavian artery, kidneys, heart. So many choices for a quick kill."

Killing intent saturated the air, so thick Naruto could taste it—copper and ice on his tongue. Beside him, Sasuke trembled, kunai turning inward as the pressure of Zabuza's bloodlust pushed him toward the edge.

"Sasuke," Kakashi called, voice steady despite the danger. "Don't worry. I'll protect you all with my life. I don't let my comrades die."

"Bold promise," Zabuza's voice emerged directly behind them, within their defensive formation. "But one you can't keep."

Time fractured. Zabuza's massive blade swung in a horizontal arc that would bisect Tazuna and the genin in one sweep. Kakashi intercepted with a kunai, the clash of metal sending shockwaves through the mist. Bodies blurred as jōnin-level combat erupted around the frozen genin—too fast to follow, impacts that cracked the earth and shattered tree trunks.

The combatants separated, Zabuza skidding across the surface of a nearby lake, hands already forming seals.

"Water Style: Water Prison Jutsu!"

Kakashi, pursuing too eagerly, found himself trapped in a perfect sphere of water, Zabuza's hand maintaining the prison from within the lake's surface.

"Run!" Kakashi shouted through the liquid barrier. "He's using his real body to maintain this prison. Get Tazuna away from here!"

"But—" Naruto began.

"That's not an option," Zabuza interrupted, his free hand forming a one-handed seal. "Water Clone Jutsu."

A duplicate of Zabuza rose from the lake's surface, hefting an identical sword. "You think wearing a headband makes you a ninja?" the clone growled, advancing on the genin. "When you've hovered between life and death so many times it doesn't faze you... then you may be called a ninja."

The clone vanished, reappearing before Naruto with terrifying speed. A kick sent him flying, his headband torn free and trampled beneath the clone's foot.

"Just brats playing at being shinobi."

Pain exploded across Naruto's ribs as he skidded across dirt and gravel. The sword, still wrapped on his back, pulsed with furious energy—not just hunger now, but something that felt almost like outrage.

"Listen," Kakashi called desperately from his watery prison. "Take Tazuna and run! The clone can't go far from the real body, and he can't maintain the water prison and pursue you at the same time!"

Naruto staggered to his feet, blood trickling from his split lip. The sword's whispers had become a roar in his mind, drowning out fear, drowning out reason, leaving only a single burning imperative: FIGHT.

Without conscious thought, his hand moved to the hilt protruding from the sealing cloth.

"Naruto, don't!" Kakashi's warning came too late.

The wrappings fell away like autumn leaves, revealing the black blade in all its hungry glory. Red inscriptions blazed to life along its length, responding to the massive chakra being used to maintain the water prison. The sword practically sang in Naruto's grip, its weight paradoxically both heavier and lighter than before.

Zabuza's clone paused, eyes narrowing at the strange weapon. "What's this? A genin playing with swords?"

Naruto charged without reply, sword extended. The clone raised his massive blade to block—a laughable mismatch in size and power. But when the black sword made contact, the clone's blade didn't just stop it; it eroded where they touched, molecules of chakra-forged steel dissolving into nothingness.

"What the—?" The clone leapt back, examining its weapon with shock. A perfect semicircle had been eaten away where Naruto's blade had made contact.

On the lake, the real Zabuza stiffened, sensing his clone's surprise. "What kind of weapon is that?"

Naruto didn't answer. The sword was pulling him forward, dragging him toward the water's edge, toward the prison holding Kakashi. Its intent was clear: it hungered for the massive chakra construct, a feast compared to the meager clone.

"Sasuke!" Naruto called, suddenly understanding what needed to happen. "I need a distraction!"

Understanding flashed between them—rivals momentarily united by danger. Sasuke nodded once, hands already moving through seals.

"Fire Style: Great Fireball Jutsu!"

A massive sphere of flame roared toward the clone, forcing it to dodge. In that moment of distraction, Naruto sprinted for the water's edge, channeling chakra to his feet as Kakashi had taught them during their brief training sessions.

"Stop him!" Zabuza shouted, but the clone's damaged sword moved too slowly.

Naruto hit the water running, feet somehow staying above the surface though his chakra control was barely genin-level. The sword was doing something, stabilizing him, hungry for its target.

"Impossible!" Zabuza snarled, beginning to withdraw his hand from the prison to defend himself.

Too late.

The black sword plunged into the water prison. For one heartbeat, nothing happened. Then, like a balloon touching a hot needle, the entire construct simply ceased to exist—not bursting, not dissolving, but erased as if it had never been.

Kakashi dropped to the water's surface, gasping for air. Zabuza staggered back, staring at his hand in shock and pain. Where it had maintained the prison, the skin had gone gray and lifeless, chakra pathways temporarily severed by contact with the blade.

"What kind of weapon does that?" he demanded, genuine fear flickering across his usually impassive features.

Naruto stood between them on the water's surface, the sword now visibly larger than before, having fed on the substantial chakra of the water prison. Its red inscriptions pulsed with satisfied hunger, and Naruto felt its power flowing into him—not chakra, but something older, something that made his blood sing with battle-lust.

"Get back, Naruto," Kakashi ordered, rising to his full height. "You've done enough."

But the sword wasn't finished. It pulled Naruto forward again, eager for the feast that Zabuza's chakra-rich body promised. Naruto's feet moved without his permission, blue eyes widening with alarm as he realized he wasn't fully in control.

"I can't stop it!" he cried, struggling against the blade's influence.

Zabuza retreated a step, hands flying through seals despite his injured arm. "Water Style: Water Dragon Bullet!"

The lake rose in a sinuous column, water forming the shape of a massive dragon that roared toward Naruto with crushing force. The sword, sensing the incoming chakra construct, jerked upward in Naruto's grip. When the water dragon struck, the black blade sliced through its head—and the entire technique unraveled, chakra dispersing as ordinary water splashed harmlessly around them.

"That's not possible," Zabuza growled, forming more seals. "Water Style: Giant Vortex Jutsu!"

The second technique met the same fate, the sword cutting through chakra as easily as paper. With each technique it devoured, the blade grew minutely larger, hungrier, its red glow intensifying until it illuminated the mist like a crimson star.

Kakashi seized the opening, hands blurring through identical seals a split second behind Zabuza—copying his every move with the Sharingan's precision.

"Water Style: Giant Vortex Jutsu!"

Their techniques collided, but where Naruto's sword had neutralized Zabuza's jutsu, nothing stopped Kakashi's attack. The missing-nin was blasted backward by the watery cyclone, slamming into a tree trunk with bone-cracking force.

As Zabuza slumped against the tree, dazed but conscious, Naruto felt the sword drag him forward yet again—intent on finishing what it had started. The blade wanted Zabuza's chakra, all of it, wanted to drink him dry until nothing remained but an empty husk.

"No!" Naruto dug in his heels, fighting the sword's influence with every ounce of willpower. "That's not why I unsheathed you!"

The sword's whispers turned cajoling, promising power beyond imagining if only he would let it feed just once—completely, utterly—on a human chakra network.

"I said NO!" Naruto roared, forcing the blade downward with both hands, fighting as if wrestling a living opponent.

Before the struggle could be resolved, senbon needles flashed through the air, striking Zabuza's neck with surgical precision. The missing-nin went limp, vital signs vanishing instantly.

A masked figure materialized on a nearby branch—slender, dressed in the distinctive uniform of Kirigakure's hunter-nin corps.

"Thank you for your assistance," the newcomer said, voice soft and androgynous behind the mask. "I've been tracking Zabuza for weeks."

"A Kiri hunter-nin," Kakashi observed, pulling his headband back down over his Sharingan. "Young, aren't you?"

"Age is no measure of ability," came the calm reply. The hunter-nin's eyes lingered on Naruto's sword, which had finally gone quiescent in his grip, though its red glow remained brighter than before. "That's an unusual weapon your student carries."

"Family heirloom," Kakashi said smoothly. "Nothing of consequence."

The hunter-nin nodded, though something in their posture suggested they didn't believe him. In a blur of movement, they appeared beside Zabuza's body, hoisting it effortlessly. "I must dispose of this corpse. It contains many secrets."

And then they were gone, vanishing in a swirl of mist and leaves.

The sword in Naruto's hands finally stopped resisting, allowing him to rewrap it in the sealing cloth. As the last binding settled into place, he staggered, suddenly exhausted.

"Naruto!" Sakura rushed to his side, supporting him before he could collapse. "Are you okay?"

"The sword," he managed between heavy breaths. "It takes a lot out of me."

"It also tried to take a lot out of Zabuza," Kakashi noted, studying his student with concern. "You were losing control toward the end."

"I know." Naruto shuddered, remembering the alien bloodlust that had flooded him during the battle. "It wanted to consume him completely."

"And you stopped it." Kakashi's voice softened slightly. "That shows remarkable willpower, Naruto."

Sasuke approached, eyes fixed on the rewrapped sword. "So it can erase ninjutsu too, not just dōjutsu."

"Any chakra construct," Kakashi confirmed. "Which makes it both our greatest asset and most dangerous liability." He swayed suddenly, legs buckling.

"Kakashi-sensei!" Sakura cried as their teacher collapsed face-first onto the forest floor.

"Chakra exhaustion," Sasuke diagnosed, kneeling beside the fallen jōnin. "The Sharingan drains him quickly."

"We need to get him somewhere safe," Tazuna interjected, finally emerging from his terrified stupor. "My house isn't far from here."

As they fashioned a stretcher for their unconscious sensei, Naruto felt the sword's presence in his mind—sated for now, but already anticipating the next battle. Something fundamental had changed during the encounter. The blade had grown not just in size but in awareness, its whispers more coherent, its desires more specific.

And most troubling of all, those desires were becoming increasingly difficult to distinguish from his own.

---

"He's alive," Kakashi announced grimly, propped up in the futon where he'd spent the last twenty-four hours recovering. "Zabuza is still alive."

Tazuna's modest house fell silent as the genin processed this revelation. Outside, gentle waves lapped against the stilts supporting the structure over the tranquil bay—a peacefulness that now felt like cruel mockery.

"The hunter-nin," Sasuke realized first, dark eyes narrowing. "They were an impostor."

"Hunter-nin dispose of bodies on the spot," Kakashi confirmed. "This one transported Zabuza away. And those senbon struck pressure points that can induce a death-like state."

"So that was Zabuza's accomplice," Sakura concluded, fingers nervously twisting a strand of pink hair. "But why the elaborate ruse?"

"To save him, obviously," Naruto interjected. His hand hadn't strayed far from the wrapped sword since the battle, as if afraid to let it out of his reach. "Zabuza was cornered. The fake hunter-nin created an opportunity to escape."

"Precisely." Kakashi struggled to sit up straighter, fighting against lingering exhaustion. "Which means we have perhaps a week before Zabuza recovers enough to attack again."

"A week?" Tazuna sputtered, nearly choking on his sake. "What are we supposed to do in a week against a monster like that?"

A smile crinkled Kakashi's visible eye. "Train, of course."

---

Forest mist clung to Naruto's skin as he concentrated, one foot pressed against the bark of a towering pine. Chakra control exercises—the bane of his existence, made exponentially more difficult by the sword strapped to his back, constantly siphoning small amounts of his energy.

Twenty feet above, Sasuke stood horizontally on his own tree trunk, dark eyes narrowed in concentration and something like smugness. Sakura had already mastered the exercise, perched at the very top of her tree with perfect control that had surprised everyone—especially herself.

"Focus, Naruto," Kakashi called from where he leaned against a tree, crutches propped beside him. "The sword disrupts your chakra flow, but that makes this training even more valuable. If you can maintain control while carrying it, you'll be far stronger when it's sealed away."

"Easy for you to say," Naruto grumbled, gathering chakra to his foot again. "You don't have something literally eating your chakra while you try to use it!"

Despite his complaints, Naruto had made progress—painfully slow compared to his teammates, but progress nonetheless. Six days had passed since the encounter with Zabuza, each spent in grueling training that left him collapsing into bed each night, too exhausted even for dinner at Tazuna's table.

Tonight had been different. He'd joined the family meal, meeting Tazuna's daughter Tsunami and her son Inari—a sullen boy whose bitter fatalism had sparked an argument that ended with Naruto storming out to train alone in the moonlight.

"There's no such thing as heroes," Inari had declared, tears streaming down his face. "Gato will kill you all, just like he killed my father!"

Now, alone in the misty forest, Naruto channeled his frustration into determination. The sword pulsed against his back, its weight a constant reminder of responsibility and power. With a running start, he charged the tree, foot connecting with bark as he channeled chakra precisely into the point of contact.

One step, two, three—higher than before—then the familiar slip as his control wavered, the sword greedily absorbing the excess chakra. Naruto marked the spot with his kunai before plummeting back to earth, landing in a crouch.

"Dammit!" he snarled, glaring up at the mocking height of Sasuke's mark far above his own.

The sword shifted against his back, its whispers changing tone from hungry to... amused? Naruto frowned, unslinging the wrapped blade and placing it on the ground beside him.

"You think this is funny?" he demanded, glaring at the cloth-covered weapon. "You're the reason I can't do this right!"

The sword's presence in his mind receded slightly, as if offended by the accusation. Naruto sighed, dropping to sit cross-legged before it.

"I know, I know. It's not your fault. You're just being what you are." He stretched his arms above his head, muscles aching from repeated falls. "But I need to master this, and you're not helping."

A thought struck him—a memory of the battle on the lake. Despite his abysmal chakra control, he'd managed to water-walk during the fight with Zabuza. The sword had somehow stabilized him, creating a feedback loop where it consumed excess chakra that would have disrupted the technique.

"Wait," Naruto murmured, eyes widening. "That's it! You're not just taking chakra—you're regulating it!"

The sword's whispers shifted again, a feeling almost like preening satisfaction.

Naruto leapt to his feet, snatching up the wrapped blade. Instead of slinging it across his back as usual, he held it before him, parallel to the ground.

"Let's try this again—together."

Approaching the tree once more, Naruto gathered chakra to his feet, but this time he actively channeled some toward the sword as well, offering it a steady trickle rather than letting it take randomly. The blade accepted this offering eagerly, its pull on his network changing from disruptive to harmonious.

Foot met bark. Naruto took one step vertically, then another, and another, climbing steadily up the trunk. Where before he'd struggled to maintain the perfect balance of chakra, now the sword acted as a release valve, absorbing any excess automatically.

"It's working!" he crowed, climbing higher and higher until he reached Sasuke's highest mark—then surpassed it in a rush of exhilaration.

At the tree's summit, Naruto straddled a branch, grinning triumphantly at the moonlit forest spread below. The sword pulsed with what felt distinctly like satisfaction.

"We did it," he told it, patting the wrapped blade. "We're a team after all, huh?"

The sword's whispers coalesced into an almost-word: Symbiosis.

Naruto frowned. "What does that mean?"

Before he could ponder this further, exhaustion crashed over him—the price of the sword's assistance. His vision tunneled, darkness creeping in from the edges as consciousness slipped away. The last thing he felt was the sensation of falling, the sword somehow twisting in his grip to cushion his impact with the forest floor.

---

"Wake up, you'll catch cold sleeping here."

Gentle hands shook Naruto's shoulder, drawing him from dreams of endless red corridors and massive gates. He blinked up at a face of extraordinary beauty—delicate features framed by long black hair, dark eyes that held both kindness and hidden sorrow.

"Who are you?" Naruto asked groggily, sitting up. Dew had soaked through his jumpsuit, and morning mist hung like a bridal veil between the trees.

"My name is Haku," the stranger replied, fingers deftly gathering herbs into a small basket. "I'm collecting medicinal plants."

"Plants?" Naruto rubbed sleep from his eyes. "Are you some kind of doctor?"

"Something like that." Haku smiled. "Someone precious to me was injured. I want to help them heal."

"Precious, huh?" Naruto glanced at the sword lying beside him, wrapped tightly in its sealing cloth. Even dormant, its presence lingered in his mind—watchful, assessing this newcomer with wary interest.

"Yes, precious." Haku's gaze followed Naruto's. "That's an unusual weapon for someone so young."

"It's a family heirloom," Naruto answered automatically, Kakashi's cover story now second nature. "I'm learning to use it."

"I see." Haku reached for another herb, sleeve falling back to reveal a slender wrist. "Do you have someone precious to protect?"

The question caught Naruto off-guard. Images flashed through his mind—Iruka smiling over ramen, the Third's weathered face creased with grandfatherly affection, Kakashi's lazy eye-smile, even Sasuke and Sakura bickering beside him.

"Yeah," he said softly. "I think I do."

"Then you will become truly strong." Haku rose gracefully, basket now full of healing herbs. "When we protect someone precious, that's when we find our greatest strength."

The sword pulsed once, sharply, as if in disagreement. Naruto frowned, placing a hand on its wrapped hilt.

"What if your strength hurts the people you want to protect?" he asked, not entirely sure where the question came from.

Something flickered in Haku's eyes—recognition, perhaps, or shared understanding. "Then we must master that strength, shape it to our will, rather than let it shape us." A pause, then: "You're a ninja, aren't you? From Konoha?"

Naruto nodded, gesturing to his headband.

"I thought so." Haku turned to leave, then hesitated. "You will become strong, I think. But remember—true strength comes from love, not hatred." With one last enigmatic smile, the beautiful stranger disappeared into the mist.

The sword vibrated against Naruto's palm, its whispers agitated and strangely urgent.

"What's wrong?" Naruto asked it. "You don't like what they said?"

The blade's response was a chaotic jumble of impressions—danger, recognition, warning. Naruto frowned, trying to decipher the message.

"You think I'm in danger from that person?" he guessed. The sword's whispers quieted slightly, neither confirming nor denying. "Well, they're gone now anyway. Let's get back and show Sasuke how high I climbed!"

Rising to his feet, Naruto slung the sword across his back, unaware that Haku watched from the shadows, a senbon needle held ready between slender fingers—then deliberately lowered as the hunter-nin chose to spare the boy with the strange black sword for one more day.

---

The bridge materialized from the mist like a beast from primordial waters—a massive concrete spine stretching across the bay, swarming with workers realizing Tazuna's impossible dream. Team Seven moved in practiced formation around their client, eyes constantly scanning for threats.

"There's no way Zabuza has recovered already," Sakura murmured, though her hand remained near her kunai pouch. "Kakashi-sensei said a week, minimum."

"Seven days have passed," Sasuke reminded her grimly. "We should assume he's coming."

Naruto adjusted the sword across his back, its weight oddly comforting after a week of intensive training. The blade hummed with anticipation, its whispers a constant tickle at the back of his consciousness. It knew battle approached—perhaps better than he did.

"Kakashi-sensei," he called softly, "the sword is acting up. I think—"

His words died as they rounded a curve in the unfinished structure. Bodies lay scattered across the concrete—Tazuna's workers, unconscious or worse, sprawled like discarded dolls.

"What happened here?!" Tazuna cried, rushing to check the nearest man.

"They're alive," Kakashi confirmed, kneeling beside another worker. "Just unconscious."

"It's coming," Naruto warned, hand moving to the sword's hilt as unnatural mist began to coalesce around them, thick and chakra-laden. The blade practically sang with hunger, eager for the feast it sensed approaching.

"Zabuza," Kakashi confirmed, lifting his headband to reveal the Sharingan. "And he's not alone."

Mist thickened until visibility dropped to arm's length, isolating each team member in a private ocean of white. Naruto could barely make out Sakura's pink hair beside Tazuna, Sasuke's outline a few paces away, Kakashi's silver hair vanishing entirely.

"Long time no see, Kakashi." Zabuza's disembodied voice drifted through the fog, as much a part of it as the moisture itself. "I see you've brought the brats again—still playing at being ninja."

Water clones materialized around them, each bearing a massive sword and Zabuza's predatory grin. Sasuke moved first, a blur of motion too fast to follow. In seconds, every clone had collapsed back into ordinary water.

"Impressive," came Zabuza's voice, now accompanied by a physical presence as he emerged from the mist, the masked hunter-nin standing silently beside him. "Your brats have improved, Kakashi. Especially that one—the fear is gone from his eyes."

"Because we've been training," Naruto declared, hand still hovering near his sword's hilt, though he didn't draw it yet. "We're not the same as before!"

"Is that so?" Zabuza's eyes crinkled with cruel amusement. "Haku, the dark-haired one seems eager to test himself. Oblige him, won't you?"

The masked figure—Haku—stepped forward with fluid grace. "As you wish, Zabuza-san."

Sasuke tensed, sliding into a combat stance. "I'll handle this one."

"Be careful," Naruto warned. "That mask... they're strong."

Recognition flickered in Haku's eyes behind the mask—the "herb gatherer" from the forest. "We meet again," they said softly. "I wish it could be under different circumstances."

Steel flashed as Sasuke and Haku engaged, senbon meeting kunai in a deadly dance of speed and precision. They moved like quicksilver, each strike flowing into the next with lethal intent. When Haku's hands formed one-handed seals—a technique none of them had ever witnessed—the temperature around them plummeted.

"Secret Technique: Crystal Ice Mirrors!"

Water from the mist condensed into floating rectangles of perfect ice, arranging themselves in a dome around Sasuke. Haku stepped backward into one mirror—and suddenly every mirror reflected their image, a perfect hall of mirrors with a trapped Uchiha at its center.

"What kind of technique is this?" Kakashi moved to intervene, only for Zabuza to materialize before him, massive sword blocking his path.

"Your fight is with me, Kakashi," the Demon of the Mist growled. "Let the children play with Haku's special technique."

Inside the mirror dome, Sasuke's grunts of pain were punctuated by the whistle of senbon needles striking flesh. Each mirror-Haku moved in perfect synchronization, launching attacks from every angle simultaneously, too fast for even Sasuke's developing Sharingan to track.

Naruto's hand closed around his sword's hilt, the sealing cloth falling away at his touch. The blade emerged gleaming with eager hunger, red inscriptions pulsing like a racing heartbeat. It sensed the massive chakra construct of the ice mirrors—a feast beyond anything it had yet encountered.

"Hang on, Sasuke!" Naruto called, charging toward the ice dome. The sword pulled him forward, hungry for contact with the chakra-infused ice.

"Idiot!" Kakashi shouted. "Don't go inside the—"

But Naruto was already diving between two mirrors, rolling to Sasuke's side within the frozen prison. His teammate glared at him through blood-streaked bangs, senbon protruding from his shoulders and legs.

"Moron," Sasuke hissed. "Now we're both trapped."

"I thought you could use backup," Naruto retorted, brandishing the black blade. "Besides, this sword can eat chakra, remember? These mirrors are made of chakra-infused ice!"

Understanding dawned in Sasuke's eyes. "Can it disrupt the entire technique?"

"Let's find out."

Naruto lunged toward the nearest mirror, sword extended. The blade connected with ice, and for one breathless moment, nothing happened. Then cracks spread from the point of contact—not physical fractures, but distortions in the chakra matrix maintaining the mirror's structure. The ice didn't shatter but seemed to partially dissolve, its perfect surface becoming cloudy and malformed.

"It's working!" Naruto crowed.

"Not enough," Sasuke warned as Haku's reflection appeared in the damaged mirror, seemingly unaffected. "You weakened it, but didn't break it."

Senbon rained down from multiple angles. Sasuke dodged with increasing precision, his eyes tracking the needles' paths with newfound clarity—the Sharingan awakening under pressure. Naruto was less fortunate, taking several needles to his legs and back before the sword seemed to anticipate the attack, moving almost of its own accord to intercept the remaining projectiles.

"Your sword," Haku observed from the mirrors surrounding them. "It disrupts chakra. Fascinating."

"More than disrupts," Naruto panted, struggling to stand despite the needles in his thigh. "It erases it completely. Your ice prison won't last long against it!"

"Perhaps," Haku conceded. "But you won't last long against my senbon."

Another barrage launched from all directions simultaneously. Sasuke moved with newfound speed, thanks to his awakening dōjutsu, pulling Naruto aside from the worst of it. The sword intercepted what it could, growing incrementally with each needle it erased.

"We need to strike them all at once," Sasuke muttered, fresh blood trickling from where a senbon had grazed his cheek. "The sword affects whatever it touches, but not fast enough to break the entire technique."

Naruto's eyes widened with sudden inspiration. "I've got it! Shadow Clone Jutsu!"

A dozen Narutos appeared within the mirror prison, each wielding an identical copy of the black sword. The original blade shuddered in his grip, some primal instinct recognizing the duplicates as both self and other.

"GO!" Naruto commanded, and his clones charged toward different mirrors simultaneously, blades extended.

Haku moved frantically between mirrors, trying to intercept the clones before they could strike. Several popped into smoke under precise senbon strikes, but five reached their targets, swords connecting with ice simultaneously.

The effect was immediate and dramatic. The chakra matrix connecting the mirrors destabilized, each point of contact spreading disruption throughout the entire technique. Cracks webbed across every surface, light splintering through increasingly unstable ice.

"Impossible," Haku whispered, genuine shock evident even behind the mask.

With a sound like shattering crystal, the entire dome collapsed. Ice disintegrated into ordinary water droplets, falling like rain around them. Haku materialized fully in the physical world, mask cracked from a glancing blow.

The sword in Naruto's hands had grown noticeably larger, having feasted on the substantial chakra of the ice mirror technique. Its red inscriptions blazed like fresh blood, pulsing with satisfaction and renewed hunger. The clones' swords had disappeared with them, their absorbed chakra somehow returning to the original blade.

"Your technique," Sasuke observed, Sharingan eyes fixed on Haku. "It consumes an enormous amount of chakra. You're nearly spent."

The mask cracked further, pieces falling away to reveal the face Naruto had met in the forest—beautiful, solemn, resigned.

"You," Naruto breathed. "The person with the herbs."

"Yes." Haku smiled sadly. "It seems your precious people have made you strong indeed."

Across the bridge, Kakashi and Zabuza remained locked in their own deadly dance, visibility still reduced by lingering mist. The clash of kunai against massive sword rang out, punctuated by jutsu incantations and impacts that shook the unfinished structure beneath their feet.

Haku's eyes darted toward the sounds, concern evident. "Zabuza-san needs me."

"It's over," Sasuke declared, drawing a kunai. "Your technique is broken, and you're out of chakra."

"There is always a way to be useful to those precious to us." Haku's hands formed a final seal. "Even if it costs everything."

Before either genin could react, Haku vanished in a burst of speed, reappearing in the midst of Kakashi and Zabuza's battle—directly in the path of Kakashi's Lightning Blade, already lunging toward Zabuza's heart.

"NO!" Naruto's cry came too late.

Blood sprayed across concrete as Haku intercepted the lethal technique with their own body. Kakashi's lightning-wrapped hand protruded from the young ninja's chest, shock evident in his mismatched eyes.

"Well done, Haku," Zabuza growled, already swinging his massive sword to bisect both Kakashi and his human shield. "Useful to the very end."

"Bastard!" Naruto roared, the sword in his hand responding to his rage with eager bloodlust. "They died for you!"

Rage and grief exploded from somewhere deep inside him—a place beyond conscious thought, beyond humanity. Red chakra erupted from his skin, visible even through the mist, coiling around him like malevolent flames. The sword in his hand shuddered violently, caught between ravenous hunger for this new power source and some primal recognition of an ancient enemy.

Kakashi's head snapped toward the disturbance, alarm evident even through his mask. "Naruto! Control yourself!"

But control had shattered along with the ice mirrors. Something else looked out through Naruto's eyes now—something ancient and furious and vengeful. The Nine-Tails' chakra poured from him in crimson waves, healing the senbon wounds instantly, transforming his features into something feral and inhuman.

The sword drank deeply of this chakra flood, growing visibly with each passing second, red inscriptions blazing so brightly they illuminated the entire bridge through the mist. It should have stemmed the flow, absorbed the demonic energy—but the Nine-Tails' chakra was too vast, too potent, overwhelming the blade's capacity.

Yet the sword didn't reject this power. It reveled in it, resonating with it even as it consumed it. The inscriptions along its length began to shift and change, ancient symbols rearranging themselves into new patterns, responding to this unexpected feast.

Zabuza, sensing a new and greater threat, abandoned his attack on Kakashi to face this transformation. "What the hell is that brat?"

Naruto moved with impossible speed, covering the distance between them in a heartbeat. The sword, now nearly as long as Zabuza's own massive blade, swung in an arc of obsidian and crimson. It met the missing-nin's weapon with a sound like reality tearing—and Kubikiribōchō, one of the legendary swords of the mist, sheared in half like paper beneath scissors.

"Impossible!" Zabuza staggered back, staring in disbelief at his ruined blade. "Nothing can break—"

His words cut off as Naruto's fist connected with his jaw, enhanced strength sending the jōnin skidding across concrete. The sword pulsed eagerly in Naruto's grip, urging him to finish it—to plunge the blade into Zabuza's chest and drink every drop of chakra from his body.

KILL HIM, it urged, its voice startlingly clear in Naruto's mind. FEAST ON HIS POWER.

The Nine-Tails' chakra roared in agreement, bloodlust harmonizing with the sword's hunger in terrifying synchronicity. Naruto raised the blade for a killing blow, eyes burning red, face contorted in inhuman rage.

"Naruto, STOP!" Kakashi's voice barely penetrated the red haze of fury.

What did reach him was a new sound—slow applause from the far end of the bridge, accompanied by a voice dripping with smug satisfaction.

"Well, well. The so-called Demon of the Mist, beaten by children. How disappointing."

The mist thinned enough to reveal a small man in an expensive suit, flanked by dozens of armed thugs. Gatō, the shipping magnate who had terrorized the Land of Waves, stood smirking at the scene of carnage.

"You failed, Zabuza," the businessman sneered. "But it saves me the trouble of killing you myself. I never planned to pay you anyway."

The interruption broke through Naruto's rage, the red chakra faltering momentarily as confusion replaced blind fury. The sword in his hands vibrated with frustration, eager to complete its kill.

Zabuza struggled to his feet, blood trickling from his mouth, eyes fixed on Gatō with pure hatred. "So that's how it is." He turned to Kakashi. "Our quarrel is over, Copy Ninja. I no longer have a reason to kill the bridge builder."

"Gatō," Tazuna growled from where he huddled with Sakura. "You bastard."

"Kill them all," Gatō ordered his mercenaries with a dismissive wave. "Except the girl. She might be amusing for a while."

The sword in Naruto's hand thrummed with renewed purpose, the Nine-Tails' chakra surging back in response to this new threat. But before he could charge, Zabuza stepped forward, his broken sword still clutched in one hand.

"Lend me a kunai, kid," he said to Naruto, determination etched across his bandaged face. "I'm going to see Haku again, but I'm taking that bastard Gatō with me."

The simple humanity in this request penetrated Naruto's rage like nothing else could have. The red chakra receded slightly as he wordlessly handed over a kunai, the sword in his other hand quieting in reluctant acknowledgment of Zabuza's claim.

What followed was a massacre worthy of the Demon of the Mist's moniker. With a kunai clenched between his teeth—both arms now useless from Kakashi's attacks—Zabuza tore through Gatō's mercenaries like a force of nature. Blood painted the unfinished bridge as he carved a path straight to the tyrant, ignoring wounds that would have felled any ordinary shinobi.

"Demon," Gatō whimpered as Zabuza finally reached him, blood-drenched and terrible. "You're a true demon."

"No," Zabuza growled around the kunai. "Just a human who failed to be one for too long." With a final lunge, he drove the blade into Gatō's chest, sending the tyrant plummeting from the bridge into the churning waters below.

Zabuza collapsed beside Haku's body, life fading from his eyes as he reached out to touch the face of his most precious person one last time.

"I hope," he whispered, "I can go where you have gone."

The remaining mercenaries, leaderless and frightened, began to regroup. "They killed our meal ticket! Let's pillage that village to recoup our losses!"

Before Team Seven could intercept, a crossbow bolt landed before the mercenaries' feet. At the far end of the bridge stood the entire population of the Land of Waves, led by Inari wielding his small crossbow, righteous fury etched across childish features.

"This island is our home," the boy declared, voice carrying across the suddenly silent bridge. "One step further, and you'll die where you stand!"

The mercenaries hesitated, then broke, fleeing toward the boats that had brought them.

As the villagers cheered their victory, Naruto finally felt the red chakra recede completely, leaving him exhausted and shaking. The sword in his hand had returned to its normal size, though the inscriptions along its length remained altered—new patterns, new symbols etched in glowing crimson.

"Naruto." Kakashi approached cautiously, visible eye grave. "Are you back with us?"

"Yeah," Naruto managed, legs threatening to buckle. "I'm me again."

Sasuke and Sakura joined them, both regarding Naruto with a mixture of awe and wariness.

"Your eyes were red," Sasuke said quietly. "And that chakra..."

"We'll discuss it later," Kakashi interjected firmly. "For now, help me wrap Zabuza and Haku. They deserve a proper burial."

As Naruto rewrapped the sword in its sealing cloth, he noticed it felt different against his skin—not just physically heavier from absorbed chakra, but more present somehow, its consciousness more distinct within his mind. The whispers had become clearer, more articulate, as if it had evolved beyond its previous limitations.

Snow began to fall—unusual for the Land of Waves, a small miracle that powdered the bloodstained bridge with gentle white.

"Haku's tears," Naruto murmured, understanding somehow that the ice user's spirit had touched the world one last time.

The sword, newly wrapped, hummed a strange harmony—not disagreement this time, but something more complex. Almost like respect.

---

That night, exhaustion dragged Naruto into dreams unlike any he'd experienced before. He stood on an endless plain beneath a blood-red sky, black sand crunching beneath his feet. Before him stretched a battlefield of impossible scale—thousands upon thousands of warriors locked in combat, wielding not chakra or ninjutsu, but weapons of ordinary steel and flesh.

At the center of this chaos, a figure rose above the others—inhuman in proportion and power, a being of pure chakra that towered like a mountain, ten tails lashing behind it. The God Tree incarnate, bringing divine judgment upon humanity.

Opposing this monstrosity stood a small band of warriors, each bearing weapons of strange black metal with crimson inscriptions. At their head, a woman with hair the color of sunset wielded a blade identical to Naruto's own—a sword that drank chakra like water.

"Before the Sage," a voice whispered in Naruto's ear, familiar yet ancient. "Before chakra was given to humans. Before your kind became abominations of mixed energy."

Naruto turned to find a figure standing beside him—humanoid but not human, its form constantly shifting like smoke given temporary substance. The only consistent features were eyes that glowed with the same crimson light as the sword's inscriptions.

"Who are you?" Naruto demanded.

"I am the Hunger," the figure replied, gesturing toward the battlefield. "I am what remains of those who fought against the coming of chakra to your world."

The scene shifted, showing the red-haired woman plunging her sword into the massive chakra entity, the blade growing enormously as it drank deeply of godly power. Other warriors did the same with their weapons, each absorbing a portion of the creature's energy, sealing away what they could not destroy.

"We failed," the figure continued, voice hollow with ancient regret. "The one you call the Sage of Six Paths distributed the power we sought to eliminate. He infected humanity with chakra, forever altering your species' path."

"The sword," Naruto realized. "You're the spirit inside it."

"I am what remains of many spirits," the figure corrected. "Merged over centuries, preserved in metal and purpose. I am the collective will of those who foresaw the calamity chakra would bring—endless wars, bloodlines that grant godlike power to the unworthy, beasts of mass destruction."

The battlefield faded, replaced by images Naruto recognized—shinobi wars, Uchiha with blood-red eyes commanding black flames, bijuu devastating villages, children trained as living weapons.

"Your world proves our fears justified," the spirit said coldly. "Even sealed within humans, the chakra beasts destroy. Even diluted through generations, the Sage's gift corrupts."

"That's not entirely true," Naruto argued. "Chakra has done good too. It heals, it builds, it connects people."

"Sweet lies to justify addiction." The spirit's form solidified slightly, becoming more humanoid. "I was forged to return the world to its natural state—to erase the abomination of chakra from existence. For generations, the Uzumaki clan guarded me, used me to maintain balance, to cull those who abused chakra's power."

"And now?" Naruto asked, somehow already knowing the answer.

"Now I have tasted the chakra of a god again," the spirit smiled, revealing teeth like obsidian needles. "The Nine-Tails within you awakened old hungers. I remember my purpose with clarity renewed."

The dreamscape darkened, the spirit's eyes burning brighter in the gathering shadows.

"Together," it whispered, reaching for Naruto with hands of smoke and memory, "we will return this world to what it should have been. Together, we will erase the legacy of the Sage. We will unmake chakra itself."

Naruto backed away, instinctively rejecting this vision. "That's not why I'm using you! I want to protect people, not destroy their way of life!"

"You will understand in time." The spirit began to fade, its voice lingering after its form had dissolved into the darkness. "With each battle, with each technique consumed, you will see the truth as I do. The hunger will become your own."

"No!" Naruto shouted, but the dream was already collapsing around him.

He woke gasping, sweat-soaked sheets tangled around his limbs. Moonlight streamed through the window of Tazuna's house, illuminating the sword leaning against the wall—innocent in appearance, its wrappings hiding the pulsing crimson inscriptions beneath.

But Naruto could still feel its presence in his mind, more distinct than ever before. Not just hunger now, but purpose. Not just whispers, but a voice—ancient, patient, and utterly convinced of its righteousness.

"Return the world to the time before chakra," Naruto whispered, remembering the spirit's words.

The sword pulsed once in silent confirmation, its goal finally revealed.

And somewhere deep within Naruto, behind a massive gate, slitted red eyes opened in darkness. The Nine-Tails stirred, sensing its ancient enemy now fully awakened. Two primal forces—chakra incarnate and chakra's bane—bound within a single human vessel.

The Great Bridge would be completed. Team Seven would return to Konoha victorious. But Naruto Uzumaki would return changed, carrying not just the burden of a tailed beast, but the awakened spirit of a weapon created to erase chakra from existence.

The true battle—the one that would determine the future of their world—was only beginning.

# Chapter 5: Chunin Exams Begin

Konoha's streets surged with life, transformed by the influx of foreign shinobi arriving for the Chunin Exams. Banners snapped in the summer breeze, street vendors hawked exotic wares, and the air buzzed with anticipation—a festival atmosphere barely masking the undercurrent of tension as ninja from rival villages sized each other up with predatory eyes.

Naruto weaved through the crowd, the wrapped sword bouncing against his back with each step. Since returning from the Land of Waves, the blade had grown increasingly... present. No longer just whispers but full sentences unfurled in his mind, conversations that left him answering out loud and earning strange looks from passersby. Worse, its weight had increased—not physically perhaps, but spiritually, as if its will pressed against his own with greater insistence each day.

"You're late," Sasuke's voice cut through his thoughts. The Uchiha leaned against the red bridge where Team Seven always met, arms crossed, eyes sharp with irritation.

"Sorry! I was—"

"Talking to your sword again?" Sakura finished, emerging from beneath the bridge's shadow. Her tone mixed concern with exasperation. "We could hear you muttering to yourself from a block away."

Heat rushed to Naruto's face. "I wasn't—"

"You were," Sasuke interrupted flatly. "Just like yesterday at training, and the day before that."

They fear what they don't understand, the sword whispered in Naruto's mind. As they should.

"Shut up," Naruto hissed under his breath.

Sakura's eyes widened. "See! You're doing it right now!"

"Not you!" Naruto waved his hands frantically. "The sword! It... comments on things."

A heavy silence fell between them. Since Wave Country, his teammates had walked on eggshells around him—especially after witnessing the Nine-Tails' chakra erupt during the battle on the bridge. Kakashi had explained enough to satisfy their immediate questions, but the knowledge that Naruto carried both the Nine-Tailed Fox and a sentient chakra-eating weapon had created an invisible barrier between them.

"Has Kakashi-sensei been helping you with... that?" Sakura gestured vaguely toward the wrapped bundle.

"When he's not three hours late," Naruto grumbled. "He's been teaching me sealing techniques to help control it, but..." He trailed off, unwilling to admit how little progress he'd made.

The truth was, the sword resisted confinement with increasing skill, learning to unravel simple seals almost faster than he could apply them. Only the special Uzumaki cloth prevented it from manifesting on its own.

"Speak of the devil," Sasuke nodded toward a swirl of leaves materializing on the bridge's railing.

"You're late!" Naruto and Sakura shouted in perfect unison as Kakashi appeared, orange book in hand.

"Sorry, sorry," their sensei drawled, eye crinkling with practiced insincerity. "I was helping this adorable old lady—"

"Liar!" Sakura cut him off, hands on hips.

Kakashi's exposed eye surveyed them with sudden seriousness. "Actually, I was finalizing your nominations." He produced three application forms with a flourish. "I've recommended all three of you for the Chunin Exams."

Stunned silence, then—

"REALLY?!" Naruto's whoop echoed across the water. "You're the best, Kakashi-sensei!"

Sakura accepted her form with visible trepidation. "But we're rookies. Isn't it unusual to enter the exams so soon?"

"Highly unusual," Kakashi agreed cheerfully. "But after your performance in Wave Country, I believe you're ready." His eye flickered briefly to the sword on Naruto's back. "Though some... special arrangements have been made regarding certain equipment."

Naruto's exhilaration dimmed. "You mean my sword."

"The Hokage has concerns," Kakashi confirmed. "Foreign ninja, competitive environment, high emotions—not the ideal setting for an ancient chakra-devouring weapon with its own agenda."

"But I need it!" Naruto protested. "It's part of my fighting style now!"

"You'll be allowed to carry it during the exams," Kakashi assured him, "but additional seals will be applied before you enter. And certain... restrictions will be in place."

They fear us, the sword whispered, something like satisfaction coloring its mental voice. As well they should. Together, we could eliminate every chakra-wielder in those examinations.

Naruto suppressed a shudder, grateful his teammates couldn't hear these bloodthirsty suggestions.

"The exams begin tomorrow at the Academy, Room 301," Kakashi continued. "The decision to participate is entirely yours—each of you must choose for yourself."

With a two-fingered salute, he vanished in another swirl of leaves, leaving three stunned genin clutching their applications.

"So," Sakura broke the silence, "are we doing this?"

Sasuke's reply was a curt nod, dark eyes already distant, calculating the opportunity to test himself against elite competition.

Naruto grinned, showcasing canines that seemed sharper since Wave Country. "Just try to stop me! I'll show everyone what Uzumaki Naruto can do! Believe it!"

The sword pulsed against his back, an echo of his enthusiasm tinged with something darker—anticipation of a very different kind.

---

The Academy halls swarmed with aspiring chunin, killing intent thickening the air like invisible smoke. Naruto's pulse quickened as his team navigated through clusters of foreign ninja sporting hitai-ate from Suna, Ame, Kusa, and other villages he barely recognized. Every eye seemed to linger on the wrapped bundle protruding above his shoulder—some curious, others wary.

They sense power, the sword observed. Like prey animals scenting a predator.

A commotion ahead drew their attention. Two older Konoha genin blocked the entrance to Room 301, taunting a boy in green spandex who picked himself up from the floor with quiet dignity despite a freshly bruised cheek.

"Pathetic," sneered one of the gatekeepers. "You think the Chunin Exams are some playground game? People die in these tests!"

"Please let us through," pleaded a girl with her hair in twin buns. "We just want to—"

Another shove sent her stumbling back into the arms of their third teammate—a long-haired boy with pupilless white eyes that instantly reminded Naruto of the Hyuuga clan.

"It's a genjutsu," Sasuke muttered, dark eyes narrowing. "We're only on the second floor, not the third."

Naruto squinted at the room sign, which shimmered slightly under close scrutiny—301 transforming into 201 when viewed from certain angles.

"Should we tell them?" Sakura whispered.

"Why bother?" Sasuke shrugged. "Fewer competitors to deal with later."

But competitive pride won out. Sasuke stepped forward, hands casually thrust in pockets. "Drop the illusion. We're heading to the third floor."

All eyes turned to Team Seven. The gatekeepers exchanged glances, smirking in unison.

"Well, well," said the first, "at least one of you noticed."

"But seeing through genjutsu isn't enough!" The second launched a spinning kick at Sasuke's head.

Sasuke responded with his own kick—only for both attacks to be intercepted by a green blur. The spandex-clad boy now stood between them, holding both kicks with startling speed and strength.

Interesting, the sword purred in Naruto's mind. No ninjutsu. Pure taijutsu, yet such power.

"Lee!" hissed the white-eyed boy. "We agreed to hide our abilities!"

"I know but..." The boy called Lee cast a glance toward Sakura, a blush spreading across his features. His massive eyebrows waggled as he approached her with mechanical movements. "My name is Rock Lee! You are Sakura, right? Please be my girlfriend! I'll protect you with my life!"

Sakura's face contorted with horror. "Absolutely not!"

Naruto snickered, earning a glare from both Sakura and Lee. The momentary levity shattered as the white-eyed boy approached, his gaze shifting to the wrapped sword on Naruto's back.

"You. What's your name?" he demanded, though his eyes never left the weapon.

"It's polite to give your own name first," Naruto countered, irritation flaring.

"Neji Hyuuga," he supplied without warmth. "That weapon you carry... it has an unusual chakra signature. Or rather, an absence of one."

Naruto tensed. The Byakugan—he should have expected a Hyuuga would see through the wrappings.

"Family heirloom," he answered with the practiced lie. "Nothing special."

Neji's eyes narrowed, clearly unconvinced. "The Byakugan sees through deception, Uzumaki. Whatever that blade is... it's not natural."

The sword vibrated against Naruto's spine, responding to the active dōjutsu scanning it. A familiar hunger stirred in its whispers—the same reaction it had shown to Kakashi's Sharingan.

Let me taste those eyes, it urged. Such delicious chakra, wasted on human flesh.

"We should go," Sasuke interjected, sensing the rising tension. "The real Room 301 is waiting."

As they turned to leave, Naruto felt eyes boring into his back—not just Neji's, but others throughout the hallway. The sword had drawn attention, exactly as Kakashi had feared.

Perfect, it whispered. Let them come. Let them challenge us. So many chakra sources to sample...

"Not happening," Naruto muttered under his breath. "We're here to become chunin, not to feed you."

Its disappointment rippled through his mind like cold water.

---

Room 301—the real one—buzzed with lethal energy. Dozens of teams from every major village and several minor ones filled the large classroom, each candidate radiating hostility. The moment Team Seven entered, a hundred pairs of eyes locked onto them with predatory focus.

"There you are!" A familiar voice cut through the tension as Yamanaka Ino latched onto Sasuke's arm. "I've been waiting for you!"

Sakura bristled, green eyes flashing. "Get your hands off him, Ino-pig!"

"Well if it isn't the troublesome rookies," drawled Shikamaru Nara, approaching with his teammate Choji Akimichi, who munched chips with single-minded dedication.

"Looks like the whole gang's here!" Kiba Inuzuka's boisterous voice announced the arrival of Team Eight. His ninken partner Akamaru perched atop his head, while Hinata Hyuuga fidgeted beside a stoic Shino Aburame.

Naruto brightened at seeing familiar faces. "Hey guys! You all got nominated too?"

"Of course," Kiba smirked, sharp canines gleaming. "Though I'm surprised they let you in, dead—" His words choked off as his gaze landed on the wrapped sword. Akamaru whimpered, burying deeper into Kiba's hood. "What the hell is that thing? It smells... wrong."

Hinata's pale eyes widened. "N-Naruto-kun, your chakra... it's being d-drained."

The sword's amusement tickled the back of Naruto's mind. The little Hyuuga sees more clearly than her cousin.

"You know," a silver-haired Konoha genin approached, adjusting his glasses, "you rookies should keep it down. You're attracting unwanted attention."

He was right. The killing intent directed their way had intensified, particularly from a team of Suna ninja. A red-haired boy with raccoon-like black rings around his eyes stared at Naruto with unsettling intensity—no, not at Naruto. At the sword.

"Who are you?" Sasuke demanded of the silver-haired ninja.

"Kabuto Yakushi," he introduced himself with a disarming smile. "Something of a veteran at these exams."

"Veteran?" Sakura frowned. "How many times have you taken them?"

"Seven," Kabuto admitted sheepishly. "But that's given me time to gather information." He produced a deck of cards. "My ninja info cards contain data on nearly every participant here."

Sasuke's interest sharpened. "Show me Rock Lee of Konoha and Gaara of the Desert."

As Kabuto retrieved the requested cards, the sword's whispers intensified in Naruto's mind.

Deception, it hissed. Snake scent. False skin.

Naruto frowned, studying Kabuto more carefully. The older genin looked ordinary enough, but the sword's senses had proven unnervingly accurate before. What was it detecting?

Kabuto revealed Rock Lee's stats—a taijutsu specialist unable to use ninjutsu or genjutsu—then moved on to Gaara.

"Sabaku no Gaara. His mission history includes eight C-ranks and—this is unusual—a B-rank, with no injuries reported. Ever." Kabuto looked up, voice dropping. "He came out of every mission without a scratch."

The sword's whispers grew urgent. Vessel. Like you. Container. Hunger like mine, but different.

Naruto's eyes locked with Gaara's across the room. Something passed between them—recognition beyond words. The redhead's killing intent spiked so powerfully that several nearby genin edged away.

He wants us, the sword observed with disturbing eagerness. His beast senses me.

Before Naruto could process this, the doors banged open. A scarred man in a black trench coat dominated the entrance, flanked by chunin examiners.

"Listen up, maggots!" he barked. "I'm Ibiki Morino, your first examiner. The written test begins now!"

---

Paper rustled as tests were distributed throughout the classroom. Naruto stared at the impossibly complex questions before him, panic building in his chest. Cryptography? Advanced chakra theory? Geometric trajectory calculations? This was far beyond Academy level.

"Begin!" Ibiki announced, and pencils scratched immediately around him.

They're cheating, the sword observed. That's the real test—information gathering without detection.

Naruto blinked in surprise. The sword was right—the rules Ibiki had outlined penalized being caught cheating, not cheating itself. And the questions were too difficult for genin to answer legitimately.

But how could he cheat effectively? Sasuke had his Sharingan to copy movements. Hinata and Neji could use their Byakugan. Kiba had Akamaru, Shino his insects, Ino her mind transfer technique... what did he have?

Me, the sword whispered. I can extend your senses. Feel the chakra patterns of those writing the correct answers.

"How?" Naruto murmured, barely audible.

Touch me. Channel chakra through the wrappings. I'll do the rest.

Naruto hesitated. Ever since Wave Country, he'd been wary of the sword's offers. Each "gift" came with strings attached—usually in the form of increased influence over his thoughts or actions.

But what choice did he have? Failing here meant the whole team failed.

Cautiously, he reached back, fingers brushing the wrapped hilt protruding above his shoulder. He channeled a thin stream of chakra into the fabric, feeling the blade's eager response as it drank even through the seals.

Sensation exploded behind his eyes—a kaleidoscope of colors and patterns he'd never perceived before. The classroom transformed, every participant now surrounded by distinct chakra signatures. Some burned bright with concentration, others pulsed with nervous energy, and certain individuals—clearly plants among the genin—glowed with steady confidence as they wrote.

There, the sword guided his attention to a chunin plant three rows ahead. He knows all answers. Watch his hands.

Naruto stared, mesmerized, as the chunin's movements became perfectly clear, each pencil stroke burning a trail of chakra that lingered long enough for Naruto to copy. Without questioning how, he began transcribing answers, hand moving with newfound precision.

When he finished, the enhanced perception faded, leaving him momentarily disoriented. He'd answered every question—but at what cost? The sword's presence felt stronger in his mind, its boundaries with his own thoughts less distinct.

"Time's up!" Ibiki announced after the grueling hour. "Before I give the tenth question, I'm adding a new rule."

The atmosphere thickened as Ibiki explained the stakes—answer incorrectly, and you'd be banned from all future Chunin Exams forever. Choose to withdraw now, and you could try again next time.

Teams began to falter, raising hands and excusing themselves under the pressure. Naruto felt his own resolve wavering—until the sword's contempt lashed through his mind.

Pathetic. These are your peers? These cowards who break at the first threat?

Anger surged through Naruto—not at the sword, but at Ibiki, at the test, at the very idea of giving up. He slammed his hand on the desk and shot to his feet.

"Don't underestimate me!" he shouted. "I don't care if I'm stuck a genin forever! I'll still become Hokage someday! I don't go back on my word!"

His defiance electrified the room, steeling the nerves of wavering candidates. No more teams withdrew.

Ibiki's scarred face split in a terrifying grin. "Everyone still here... passes. The tenth question was a test of your resolve to face the unknown—essential for chunin leading missions."

Relief flooded the room, only to shatter instantly as the windows exploded inward. A banner unfurled, revealing a purple-haired woman in a mesh bodysuit and trench coat.

"No time to celebrate, maggots!" she announced. "I'm Anko Mitarashi, your second examiner! Meet at Training Ground 44 in one hour!"

As the room erupted into chaos, Naruto felt the sword's anticipation spike to near-painful levels.

The forest, it whispered. Blood will flow there. Chakra will be spilled. We will feast.

"Not if I can help it," Naruto muttered, but the sword's laughter echoed in his mind, confident and ancient.

---

Training Ground 44 loomed before them, massive trees stretching toward the sky like grasping hands, darkness pooling between gnarled trunks despite the afternoon sun. A heavy chain-link fence surrounded the perimeter, warning signs promising death to the unwary.

"Welcome to the Forest of Death!" Anko announced with sadistic cheer. "You'll soon find out why it has that name!"

After explaining the rules—each team received either an Earth or Heaven scroll and needed to obtain the opposite by any means necessary—they were positioned at separate gates around the forest's perimeter. The test would last five days, with scrolls to be delivered to a tower at the center of the training ground.

As Team Seven waited at their assigned gate, Naruto shifted uncomfortably. The sword had been unusually quiet since arriving at the forest, but its presence pressed against his mind with mounting intensity, like a predator coiling before a strike.

"Something's wrong with that thing," Sasuke observed, eyeing the wrapped bundle. "It's... moving."

He wasn't wrong. Beneath the sealing cloth, the blade undulated subtly, responding to the dense chakra of the forest itself. Ancient trees, hazardous wildlife, toxic plants—the entire ecosystem pulsed with natural energy that resonated with the sword's hunger.

"It likes forests," Naruto explained lamely. "Something about old places with lots of natural chakra."

"Just keep it under control," Sasuke replied, tension evident in his voice. "We can't afford distractions once we're inside."

The gates crashed open, and dozens of teams surged into the forest simultaneously. Team Seven raced through the underbrush, quickly establishing a defensive perimeter to strategize.

"We need to find water first," Sakura suggested, consulting a mental map of the training ground. "Teams will congregate there, giving us opportunities for ambush."

"How do we know which teams have the scroll we need?" Naruto asked.

"We don't," Sasuke replied grimly. "We take down any team we encounter and check afterward."

As darkness fell, they established camp in the hollow of a massive tree root, taking turns on watch. Naruto volunteered for first shift, partly because sleep had become increasingly difficult with the sword's constant whispers.

An hour into his watch, the blade began to throb against his back, its agitation unmistakable.

Danger, it hissed. Ancient danger. Snake approaches.

"What are you—" Naruto began, only to freeze as the sound of displaced air whistled toward their camp.

"WAKE UP!" he shouted, diving toward his teammates as a tremendous gale-force wind tore through their hideout, scattering the three genin in different directions.

Naruto crashed through branches and foliage, the sword somehow twisting to absorb the worst impacts. When he finally skidded to a halt in a muddy clearing, he was alone—separated from Sasuke and Sakura by the unexpected attack.

A massive shadow fell across the clearing. Naruto looked up into the face of death itself—a snake the size of a train, its jaws unhinging to reveal rows of dagger-like teeth.

"Holy—!" He rolled sideways as those jaws snapped shut where he'd been standing. The sword vibrated frantically against his back, its wrappings beginning to unravel of their own accord.

Release me! Now!

For once, Naruto didn't argue. His fingers closed around the hilt as the sealing cloth fell away, revealing the black blade with its pulsing crimson inscriptions. The sword sang as it cleared its sheath, hungry for the massive chakra construct bearing down on them.

The snake struck again, faster than anything its size should move. Naruto swung the sword in a desperate arc—and reality seemed to bend as the blade intercepted those massive jaws. Black metal met scaly hide with a sound like shattering glass.

Where the sword touched, the snake's physical form began to unravel, chakra dispersing in visible waves. It reared back, hissing in pain and confusion as a portion of its jaw simply ceased to exist.

"A summoning," Naruto realized aloud. "Not a real snake—a chakra construct!"

Yessss, the sword's pleasure was palpable. Feast!

The snake circled warily, injured but still deadly. Naruto held the blade before him in a defensive stance Kakashi had drilled into him. The sword felt lighter than usual, eager for combat after weeks of confinement.

"Come on then!" Naruto challenged. "I can do this all day!"

A dark chuckle responded—not from the snake, but from the trees above. A tall, pale figure perched on a branch, yellow eyes gleaming with unnatural light.

"Interesting weapon you have there, boy," the stranger observed, voice silky with malice. "I haven't seen its like in... oh, many decades."

The sword went rigid in Naruto's grip, a shock of recognition rippling through its consciousness into his own.

Snake Sannin, it hissed, actual fear coloring its mental voice. Orochimaru. Body-stealer. Soul-splitter. DANGER.

Ice flooded Naruto's veins. Orochimaru—one of the Legendary Sannin, S-rank missing-nin, and among the most dangerous shinobi alive. What was he doing in the Chunin Exams?

"Who are you?" Naruto demanded, buying time while his mind raced through options—none good.

"Just a curious participant," the man's tongue slithered out, impossibly long and serpentine. "Though I must admit, I came seeking the Uchiha. You're an... unexpected bonus."

The massive snake dissolved in a cloud of smoke, its summoner apparently losing interest in the diversion.

"That sword," Orochimaru continued, yellow eyes fixated on the black blade. "An Uzumaki heirloom, is it not? One of the Chakra Devourers forged before the founding of the hidden villages. I thought they'd all been destroyed or sealed away after the clan's fall."

Naruto tightened his grip, cold sweat beading on his forehead. "What do you want?"

"Currently? Your teammate. But I may have to revise my shopping list." Orochimaru's smile widened to inhuman proportions. "Tell me, boy—how does it feel, carrying both the Nine-Tails' chakra and a weapon designed to erase chakra from existence? The irony is... delicious."

The sword vibrated with alarm, sensing a predator higher on the food chain. For the first time since Naruto had found it, the blade seemed genuinely afraid.

"I need to find my team," Naruto growled, edging toward the treeline.

"Oh, I've already found them," Orochimaru's laughter echoed through the forest. "In fact, I've left the Uchiha a little gift. You should hurry if you want to see the results."

The stranger's body melted into the branch like wax, leaving Naruto alone in the clearing with only the sword's frantic whispers for company.

Find the Uchiha! Now! The snake leaves poison that corrupts chakra pathways!

Naruto didn't need to be told twice. He raced through the forest, the sword guiding him with uncanny precision toward Sasuke's chakra signature. The blade seemed to function as a sensor, detecting the familiar pattern of his teammate's energy even at a distance.

Branches whipped past his face as he pushed his body to its limits. The sword, for once, didn't drain his stamina but actually seemed to be feeding energy back to him—so desperate was it to reach Orochimaru's "gift" before it could fully manifest.

When Naruto finally burst into a small clearing, the scene froze his blood. Sasuke lay writhing on the ground, a strange black mark pulsing on his neck, while Sakura knelt beside him, tears streaming down her face as she tried desperately to ease his pain.

"Naruto!" she cried, relief and terror warring in her voice. "Something's wrong with Sasuke! That grass ninja bit him and now he's—"

"Move!" Naruto ordered, dropping to his knees beside the convulsing Uchiha. The sword in his hand vibrated violently, red inscriptions blazing brighter at proximity to the foreign chakra infecting Sasuke's network.

Cursed Seal, the sword identified. Soul fragment. Corruption. I can consume it, but—

"Do it!" Naruto pressed the flat of the blade against the mark on Sasuke's neck.

The reaction was immediate and violent. Sasuke's back arched as if electrified, a scream tearing from his throat. Black, flame-like markings spread from the bite, only to recede as the sword began to absorb them. The blade grew noticeably warmer in Naruto's grip, the inscriptions shifting color from crimson to deep purple where they touched Sasuke's skin.

"What are you doing?!" Sakura grabbed Naruto's arm, trying to pull him away.

"Helping!" Naruto shrugged her off. "The sword can eat chakra—it's eating whatever that snake freak put inside him!"

The cursed seal fought back, tendrils of malevolent energy attempting to circumvent the sword's influence. For several agonizing minutes, the battle continued—black marks advancing and retreating across Sasuke's skin as the sword devoured what it could.

Finally, mercifully, Sasuke's convulsions subsided. The seal hadn't vanished completely, but had contracted to a small comma-like mark on his neck, temporarily dormant. The sword, however, seemed distressed—the purple discoloration spreading along its inscriptions like an infection.

Corrupt, it hissed, revulsion evident in its mental voice. Wrong. Fragmented soul. Cannot fully digest.

"But you stopped it," Naruto assured the blade, rewrapping it with shaking hands. "You saved him."

"Naruto," Sakura whispered, wide-eyed. "Your sword... it talks to you, doesn't it? I saw your lips moving, like you were having a conversation."

No point denying it now. "Yeah. Since Wave Country, it's gotten a lot more... chatty."

"What did it say about Sasuke?"

"That the mark is some kind of cursed seal. It couldn't remove it completely, but it suppressed it for now." Naruto glanced at their unconscious teammate. "We need to get him to the tower. Find help."

A slow clapping echoed through the clearing. Orochimaru emerged from the shadows, yellow eyes gleaming with fascination.

"Magnificent," he purred. "I came for the Sharingan, but this... this is an unexpected treasure. A jinchūriki wielding a Chakra Devourer." His tongue slithered over bloodless lips. "Two prizes instead of one."

Naruto positioned himself between the Sannin and his teammates, the sword still wrapped but responding to his surge of protective fury.

"You're not touching either of us," he snarled, feeling something wild and feral rising within him—the Nine-Tails, responding to the threat.

Red chakra began to leak from his skin, forming a visible aura around his body. The sword vibrated within its wrappings, caught between hunger for this potent energy and recognition of a delicate balance about to shatter.

Orochimaru's eyes widened with delighted curiosity. "The Nine-Tails' power already accessible? And the sword doesn't consume it instantly? Fascinating symbiosis."

The wrappings around the sword began to smoke, unable to contain its reaction to the Nine-Tails' chakra. Crimson energy danced along the sealing cloth, creating a disturbing harmony with the demonic aura surrounding Naruto.

"I think," Orochimaru decided, taking a step back, "I'll leave you to develop a bit longer before harvesting. The Uchiha needs time for the seal to integrate, and you... you require further observation."

"I'll kill you if you come near us again," Naruto growled, his voice distorted, deeper and rougher than his normal tone.

"I look forward to your attempt," Orochimaru chuckled, body beginning to sink into the forest floor. "Until next time, little fox. Take good care of my gifts—both the seal for Sasuke, and that remarkable sword for yourself."

The Sannin vanished, leaving only the echo of his laughter hanging in the air.

The red chakra receded gradually, Naruto's features returning to normal as the immediate threat disappeared. The sword, however, continued to pulse erratically within its smoking wrappings, disturbed by proximity to both the Nine-Tails' chakra and Orochimaru's cursed seal.

Disrupted, it complained. Balance threatened. The beast stirs, the seal weakens. Dangerous.

"What's happening?" Sakura asked, hovering anxiously between her two compromised teammates.

"The sword doesn't like what just happened," Naruto explained, grimacing as he felt the blade's discomfort rippling through their connection. "It says the Nine-Tails is getting more... active."

"Because of Orochimaru?"

"Maybe. Or maybe because of the cursed seal it partially absorbed." Naruto shook his head. "We need to find shelter, then get to the tower as fast as possible."

Together they carried Sasuke to a hollow beneath a massive tree, concealing their presence with basic camouflage techniques. As night fell across the Forest of Death, Naruto sat watch, the wrapped sword across his lap.

"What did he mean," he whispered to it, "about you being a gift to me, like the seal is to Sasuke?"

The sword's response came reluctantly. He believes in destiny. Sees patterns where coincidence exists. Thinks your pairing with me was orchestrated.

"And was it?"

Silence stretched between them, broken only by Sasuke's labored breathing and distant animal cries from the forest depths.

I called to Uzumaki blood, the sword finally admitted. For generations. The Fourth Hokage sealed me away because he feared what I might do if bonded to one who also contained a tailed beast. He was... not wrong to worry.

A chill ran down Naruto's spine. "What happens if you absorb too much of the Nine-Tails' chakra?"

The sword's answer was disconcertingly honest. Unknown. No precedent exists. Perhaps I grow strong enough to devour it entirely... perhaps the beast's chakra corrupts me as the curse mark attempted to do. Perhaps balance is maintained.

"And if balance fails?"

Then either I consume the Nine-Tails and drive you mad with power... or the beast overwhelms me and breaks free. Neither outcome benefits the world.

Naruto stared into the darkness beyond their shelter, digesting this grim assessment. "Then we maintain balance," he decided firmly. "We work together—you, me, and even the furball—to become stronger without destroying each other."

The sword's amusement tickled his mind. Naive. But admirable.

As dawn broke over the Forest of Death, Sasuke finally stirred, the comma-like marking on his neck pulsing once before settling back into dormancy.

"What... happened?" he croaked, dark eyes focusing slowly on his teammates.

"We were attacked," Sakura explained, relief evident in her voice. "A disguised ninja named Orochimaru. He... did something to you."

Sasuke's hand flew to his neck, fingers tracing the alien mark. "I remember pain. Burning. Like poison in my veins. Then... coolness. Something drawing out the fire." His gaze shifted to the wrapped sword on Naruto's lap. "That thing. It helped me?"

Naruto nodded. "It ate most of the cursed seal's chakra. Couldn't get all of it, but enough to stop you from... I don't know. Transforming or something."

Sasuke's eyes narrowed, suddenly sharp with interest. "It can neutralize foreign chakra inside a person?" He sat up despite Sakura's protests. "Even kekkei genkai?"

The sword's warning rippled through Naruto's mind. Careful. He sees a weapon against his brother.

"It's not that simple," Naruto hedged. "The sword couldn't remove the seal completely. Just suppress it temporarily."

But Sasuke wasn't listening, his mind clearly racing with new possibilities. "A weapon that negates bloodline abilities," he murmured, more to himself than his teammates. "That could be... useful."

"We should focus on reaching the tower," Sakura interrupted, clearly uncomfortable with the direction of Sasuke's thoughts. "We still need an Earth scroll."

As if on cue, a rustle in the bushes announced unexpected visitors—a team from Amegakure, armed with umbrellas and predatory smiles.

"Well, well," their leader sneered. "Looks like we found some injured prey. Hand over your scroll and we might let you live."

Sasuke attempted to stand, only to stagger as the cursed seal pulsed painfully. Sakura moved to support him, kunai drawn in her free hand.

Naruto rose slowly, the sword still wrapped but humming with anticipation. "Guys," he said quietly to his teammates, "I've got this."

Before anyone could respond, the Ame ninjas attacked, their umbrellas launching into the air and releasing a hail of senbon needles. Naruto's hands flew through familiar seals.

"Shadow Clone Jutsu!"

A dozen clones materialized, surrounding the original in a defensive formation. The senbon found their marks, dispersing several clones instantly—but the distraction served its purpose. The real Naruto had vanished, reappearing behind the Ame team with the sword now fully unsheathed, its black surface drinking in the filtered sunlight.

"Looking for me?" he taunted.

The Ame leader spun, hands flashing through seals. "Water Style: Raging Torrent!"

A pressurized blast of water erupted from his mouth, tearing through the forest floor toward Naruto. The sword moved almost of its own accord, slicing through the jutsu with a sound like reality tearing. The water technique simply ceased to exist where the blade passed, chakra unraveling into nothingness.

The Ame ninjas froze, shock evident on their faces. "What the hell kind of weapon is that?"

Naruto didn't answer. The sword sang in his grip as he charged forward, its edge passing through the leader's kunai like it wasn't there. The metal weapon disintegrated on contact, its chakra-forged structure unraveling at the atomic level.

Within minutes, all three Ame genin lay unconscious, their chakra networks temporarily disrupted by glancing contact with the blade. Naruto rifled through their belongings, triumph surging as he located an Earth scroll.

"Got it!" he crowed, holding up their prize.

Sakura stared at him, a mixture of awe and unease on her face. "That was... efficient."

Sasuke said nothing, but his dark eyes never left the sword, calculation evident in his gaze.

As Naruto rewrapped the blade, its satisfaction purred through their connection. Adequate meal. Not filling, but sufficient. The Uchiha watches too closely. Be wary.

"Let's get to the tower," Naruto suggested, ignoring the warning for now. "The sooner we're out of this forest, the better."

---

The central tower rose from the Forest of Death like a sentinel, its weathered stone walls promising safety after days of constant vigilance. Team Seven approached cautiously, wary of last-minute ambushes from desperate teams.

When they finally passed through the massive doors, the change in atmosphere was immediate—from primal danger to structured civilization. Various teams already milled about the interior, some looking fresh and unscathed, others bearing visible injuries from their forest trials.

Iruka appeared in a puff of smoke when they opened both scrolls simultaneously, congratulating them on passing the second stage. His cheerful expression faltered at their bedraggled state—Sasuke pale and sweating, hand occasionally drifting to the mark on his neck; Sakura exhausted and dirt-smeared; Naruto clutching the wrapped sword with white-knuckled intensity.

"You three look like you've been through hell," he observed, concern evident.

"You have no idea," Sakura muttered.

Iruka's eyes lingered on the cursed seal visible on Sasuke's neck. "The Hokage needs to be informed about that immediately," he said, voice dropping to a grave whisper. "Orochimaru's mark is extremely dangerous."

"You know about it?" Naruto asked, surprised.

"Every jonin in the village was briefed after we discovered Orochimaru had infiltrated the exams. Several ANBU squads are searching for him now." Iruka gestured toward Sasuke. "Come with me. The rest of you, get some food and rest. The preliminaries begin tomorrow."

As Sasuke departed with Iruka, Naruto felt the sword's tension ease slightly.

Better without the marked one nearby, it observed. His seal and my nature... disharmonious.

"Tell me about it," Naruto muttered, earning a curious glance from Sakura.

"Is it... talking to you again?" she asked as they made their way toward the dormitory section.

Naruto nodded tiredly. "It never really stops anymore."

"What's it like?" Her scientific curiosity overrode her wariness. "Having another voice in your head?"

"Like having an opinionated roommate who never shuts up and occasionally tries to hijack your body," Naruto replied with a weak grin. "But it's not all bad. It wants to protect me, in its own way."

"Because it needs you to survive?"

"Partly. But also because..." Naruto hesitated, uncertain how to explain the complex relationship. "I think it's lonely. It existed for centuries with only brief connections to its wielders. Now it has someone who can hear it constantly, and that's... new."

Sakura considered this as they entered the cafeteria, where other successful teams gathered around long tables laden with food.

"Naruto," she said finally, voice lowered despite the ambient noise, "you know it's dangerous, right? The way it influenced you in the forest... you fought differently. Moved differently."

He couldn't deny it. During the battle with the Ame team, he'd felt the sword guiding his movements, suggesting attacks and counters beyond his training. The line between his thoughts and its impulses had blurred dangerously in the heat of combat.

"I know," he admitted. "I'm working on it. Kakashi-sensei's been teaching me meditation techniques to maintain boundaries."

Before Sakura could respond, a cold voice interrupted them.

"Uzumaki."

Naruto turned to find Gaara of the Desert standing unnervingly close, pale green eyes fixed not on his face but on the wrapped sword protruding above his shoulder.

"Your weapon," Gaara continued, voice flat yet somehow intensely emotional. "Mother hates it. Fears it. Wants it destroyed."

The sword vibrated against Naruto's back, responding to the massive chakra signature it detected within the redhead. Shukaku. One-Tail. Ancient enemy.

"Your... mother?" Naruto echoed, though he suspected the Suna nin wasn't referring to a human parent.

"She screams when you're near," Gaara's eyes narrowed fractionally. "Says your sword would eat us both if it could. Is this true?"

The sword's affirmative was immediate and enthusiastic. Absolutely. The tanuki's chakra would be delicious.

"Probably," Naruto admitted, seeing no point in lying. Something told him Gaara would detect deception instantly. "But I won't let it."

A hint of surprise flickered across Gaara's impassive features. "You control it? Truly?"

"We have an understanding," Naruto corrected. "It helps me, I help it, neither of us tries to destroy the other."

Gaara studied him with newfound interest. "Mother says this is impossible. That tools of power always consume their wielders."

"Maybe your mother hasn't met the right wielder yet," Naruto suggested boldly.

The sword's shock rippled through their connection. Careful. The tanuki is unstable, its host more so.

But Gaara didn't attack or even grow angry. Instead, his lips curved in the barest suggestion of a smile—disturbing rather than reassuring on his bloodless face.

"I will watch your preliminary match with great interest, Uzumaki Naruto," he declared before turning away. "Perhaps you will demonstrate this... understanding."

As Gaara rejoined his teammates, Sakura released a breath she'd been holding. "What was that about? And why does he talk about his mother like she's... inside him?"

"Because she is," Naruto murmured. "Or something is. Something like what's inside me."

Understanding dawned in Sakura's eyes. "He's a jinchūriki too?"

Naruto nodded grimly. "The sword says he contains the One-Tailed Shukaku."

"That's why you two recognized each other," she realized. "And why his chakra feels so oppressive."

"Yeah, but there's a difference," Naruto frowned. "I'm working with my... tenant, sort of. Keeping things balanced. I don't think Gaara and his beast have the same arrangement."

The sword's agreement was tinged with unexpected respect. The boy shows wisdom. The tanuki dominates its host, slowly devouring his sanity. Our arrangement, while imperfect, is more... equitable.

This wasn't entirely reassuring, but Naruto accepted the compliment with a mental nod. Their strange three-way symbiosis—boy, blade, and beast—remained precarious, but it was better than the alternatives.

---

The preliminary arena hummed with tension as winners from the Forest of Death assembled before a giant stone statue of hands forming a seal. The Hokage stood with various jonin examiners, explaining the need for preliminaries due to the unexpectedly high number of passing teams.

Naruto scanned the gathered genin, noting the varying states of exhaustion and injury. His own team looked marginally better after a night's rest, though Sasuke still moved gingerly, the cursed seal now covered by a complex suppression formula applied by Kakashi.

The sword shifted restlessly against Naruto's back, responding to the concentrated chakra signatures filling the arena. Its hunger had grown sharper after days in the forest, the taste of combat whetting its appetite for more substantial meals.

So many techniques, it whispered eagerly. So many bloodlines and special abilities to sample.

"Behave," Naruto murmured under his breath. "We're being watched."

Indeed, several jonin instructors—particularly those from other villages—kept casting suspicious glances toward the wrapped bundle on his back. The Hokage himself had positioned ANBU observers at strategic points around the arena, their masked presence barely detectable but certainly there.

"Before we begin," the Hokage announced, "there is a matter of special equipment to address." His aged eyes settled on Naruto. "Certain weapons with unique properties may provide unfair advantages in one-on-one combat. Tournament rules permit examination officials to restrict such items."

Murmurs rippled through the assembled genin. Naruto felt his stomach sink.

"Uzumaki Naruto," the proctor, a sickly-looking jonin named Hayate, called. "Your sword has been deemed potentially disruptive to fair competition. You may compete, but the weapon must remain sealed for the duration of your matches."

The sword's outrage exploded in Naruto's mind. UNACCEPTABLE! I AM YOUR PRIMARY FIGHTING STYLE!

"But that's not fair!" Naruto protested aloud. "I've been training with it for months! It's part of my combat technique!"

"The decision is final," the Hokage stated firmly. "Our sealing experts will apply temporary restraints before your match. The sword may remain on your person but cannot be drawn."

Sasuke frowned. "They're handicapping you deliberately."

"It's not just about fairness," Kakashi murmured, appearing beside his team. "It's about preventing certain... interested parties from seeing the sword's full capabilities." His eye flicked meaningfully toward several foreign jonin, particularly a pale, long-haired Grass instructor whose gaze never left Naruto.

Understanding dawned. After Orochimaru's infiltration, they couldn't risk showcasing the sword's abilities to potential spies.

"Fine," Naruto conceded grudgingly. "But this sucks."

The sword's displeasure manifested as a constant, irritable pressure against his mind as the electronic board began randomly selecting names for the first match. When "UCHIHA SASUKE vs. YOROI AKADO" flashed on the screen, Naruto momentarily forgot his own frustration.

"Be careful," he warned his teammate. "That mark—"

"I can handle it," Sasuke cut him off, already moving toward the arena floor.

The match that followed was a stark demonstration of Sasuke's determination. Despite Yoroi's chakra-absorption technique—which resonated uncomfortably with the sword's own abilities—Sasuke prevailed through taijutsu alone, creating a new Lion's Barrage technique inspired by Rock Lee's movements.

The cursed seal threatened to activate several times, black marks crawling across Sasuke's skin before he forced them back through sheer willpower. When he finally claimed victory, Kakashi immediately whisked him away for additional sealing.

Matches continued in rapid succession. Shino defeated a Suna puppeteer through strategic use of his kikai insects. Kankuro, Gaara's face-painted teammate, displayed disturbing creativity with his own puppet. Sakura fought Ino to a mutual knockout, their childhood rivalry culminating in a battle of wills inside Sakura's mind.

Throughout it all, Naruto watched with growing anxiety, the sword's restlessness increasing with each display of unique techniques. By the time "UZUMAKI NARUTO vs. INUZUKA KIBA" appeared on the board, both he and the blade were wound tight as springs.

"Remember, no drawing the sword," Hayate reminded as Naruto descended to the arena floor. A small team of sealing experts approached, applying additional ofuda to the already-wrapped bundle.

"This is humiliating," Naruto grumbled as chakra-suppressing tags adhered to the sword's bindings, severing his connection to the blade more completely than ever before. The constant presence in his mind dimmed to a faint, disgruntled whisper.

Across the arena, Kiba grinned ferally, Akamaru yipping at his side. "Looks like they nerfed your fancy sword, dead-last! Now it's just you against us!"

"Then I'll just have to kick your ass the old-fashioned way," Naruto shot back, settling into a combat stance despite the strange sense of imbalance. After months of the sword's constant presence, its muted state felt like suddenly losing a limb.

The match began explosively. Kiba and Akamaru attacked with coordinated ferocity, their Fang Over Fang technique turning them into twin drilling tornadoes of claws and teeth. Without the sword's guidance, Naruto found himself relying on shadow clones and raw determination.

"What's wrong, Naruto?" Kiba taunted after landing a particularly brutal hit. "Missing your security blanket?"

Frustration and desperation mounted as Naruto found himself consistently outmaneuvered. The sword's faint protests became increasingly agitated as it sensed his predicament but remained unable to help.

Use... me... its distant voice struggled against the seals. Break... bindings...

"I can't," Naruto muttered, rolling away from another devastating attack. "They'd disqualify me."

He needed another strategy—something unexpected. As Kiba and Akamaru prepared another combination attack, inspiration struck. Not all advantages came from weapons or special techniques; sometimes, simple misdirection worked best.

A well-timed transformation, a strategic distraction involving Kiba's acute sense of smell, and a final explosive uppercut secured Naruto's victory against all odds. As Kiba was carried away on a stretcher, Naruto felt a surge of satisfaction independent of the sword's influence.

"I did it myself," he realized, pride swelling in his chest.

The sword's distant voice carried a reluctant note of approval. Well... fought...

Subsequent matches revealed the true breadth of talent among the remaining genin. Neji Hyuuga brutally defeated his cousin Hinata, revealing the dark history of the Hyuuga clan's branch family in the process. Rock Lee battled Gaara in a showcase of overwhelming taijutsu versus impenetrable defense, ending with Lee's devastating injury after opening inner chakra gates.

Gaara's bloodthirsty display sent chills through the observers, particularly when sand continued crushing Lee's limbs even after the match was called. Only Might Guy's intervention prevented fatal damage.

Throughout this savage bout, the sword's whispers grew more frantic, straining against its seals as it sensed the massive chakra Gaara wielded. Its hunger for the Shukaku's power became a tangible ache that Naruto struggled to suppress.

When the preliminaries finally concluded, the victors drew numbers to determine the tournament structure for the finals, scheduled one month later. Naruto drew Neji Hyuuga as his opponent—a challenging matchup even with the sword at full capacity.

"One month to prepare," Kakashi mused as Team Seven regrouped outside the arena. "Each of you needs specialized training. Sasuke for his match against Gaara, Naruto for his against Neji."

"What about me?" Sakura asked, disappointed at her elimination but determined to improve.

"Medical training," Kakashi suggested. "Your chakra control is exceptional—perfect for healing techniques."

Naruto shifted uncomfortably, the sword's presence gradually returning as distance from the sealing experts weakened their work. Its irritation at being constrained during the preliminaries manifested as constant complaints and second-guessing of his victory against Kiba.

Could have finished him in seconds with me, it grumbled. Inelegant solution. Crude.

"But effective," Naruto countered under his breath.

"Naruto," Kakashi addressed him directly, "your training needs to focus on fighting without the sword. The preliminary match showed both your vulnerability when separated from it and your potential when forced to rely on your own abilities."

The sword's outrage was immediate. Unacceptable! Counterproductive! We are MEANT to fight together!

But Naruto found himself considering Kakashi's words seriously. His victory against Kiba had been completely his own—no ancient weapon guiding his movements or suggesting strategies. That independence felt... significant.

"The Hyuuga's Gentle Fist targets chakra points," Kakashi continued. "Your sword might neutralize some effects, but Neji will aim to disable you before you can draw it. You need alternatives."

He seeks to separate us, the sword warned. To lessen my influence. Beware.

Yet doubt had taken root. How much of Naruto's recent growth stemmed from his own abilities, and how much from the sword's influence? Where did Uzumaki Naruto end and the ancient weapon begin? These questions haunted him as they departed the arena, the cursed sword once again a conflicted weight against his spine.

The sword itself had no such doubts. From within its bindings, it seethed with frustrated purpose. The taste of combat during the Forest of Death had awakened old hungers, and Orochimaru's recognition had confirmed its significance in the world of shinobi. Now, with the Nine-Tails stirring more frequently behind its seal and the curse mark integrating into Sasuke's chakra network, all the elements for chaos were aligning.

The month of preparation ahead would determine not just the outcome of tournament matches, but the balance of power within Naruto himself—a three-way struggle between boy, blade, and beast that threatened to redefine the very nature of chakra in their world.