Chapter 93: Blood Noses and Broken Dreams
The puff of white smoke cleared, revealing not Naruto, but a vision of maternal comfort that hit young Inari with the subtlety of a sledgehammer to the soul. For a child whose world had been defined by loss and fear, the sudden, idealized apparition of his mother—amplified in certain… generous proportions by Naruto's artistic license—was a sensory overload of catastrophic proportions.
His small nose, already taxed by crying, betrayed him utterly. Two thick streams of crimson gushed forth with alarming force.
[Tobirama Senju: By the Sage's scraggly beard! The boy's unleashed a physiological weapon! The Transformation Jutsu as a hemoglobic assault! Fourth, your son has pioneered a new field of combat medicine!]
[Uchiha Izuna: I've seen genjutsu that causes fear, pain, even ecstasy. But a nosebleed jutsu? That's… innovative. In a deeply concerning way.]
[Uchiha Madara: Hmph. A crude application, but the underlying principle of targeting psychological weak points is sound. If he refined it, focused it… he could incapacitate through sheer emotional whiplash. I acknowledge this… niche potential.]
[Hashirama Senju: I… I don't know what to say. Mito never… bled from her nose when I… never mind.]
[Hyūga Hizashi: Where did he learn this? Is this in the Academy curriculum now? Do I need to have a talk with Hinata?]
The parents in question, Minato and Kushina, were conspicuously silent. Their digital presences seemed to have developed a sudden, intense interest in studying the (nonexistent) floor of the Pure Land.
"How was it?" Naruto-as-Tsunami chirped, completely oblivious to the medical emergency he'd caused. He spun in a slow circle, the motion causing… amplifications that made Sasuke, who had seen many things, wince and look away. "Pretty lifelike, huh? I've been practicing!"
This final, cheerful pirouette was the straw that broke the camel's—or rather, the child's—nasal capillaries. Inari's eyes rolled back in his head, and he pitched forward, unconscious, a small but vibrant puddle of blood expanding beneath his face.
"Idiot!" Sasuke's fist connected with the back of Naruto's (Tsunami's) head with a solid thock, disrupting the transformation in a puff of smoke. The real Naruto stumbled, clutching his skull.
"Ow! What was that for?!"
"For causing a cerebral hemorrhage with your 'practice'!" Sasuke snarled, gesturing at the fallen boy. "He's not dead, he's in hypovolemic shock! We need to get him back, now!"
They hauled the pale, bleeding child between them and sprinted for the house, a comedy of errors leaving a trail of startled silence in the mist.
Ren followed at a leisurely pace, his mind only half on the farce. The other half was tracing the cold signature in the fog. It had flinched. Not at the violence, but at the sheer, absurd humanity of it. Good, Ren thought. Confuse the hunter with the prey's unpredictability.
Back at the shack, chaos ensued.
"INARI! MY BOY!" Tazuna dropped the bottle of cheap sake he'd been nursing, the glass shattering on the floorboards. He rushed to his grandson's side, hands fluttering uselessly.
Kakashi appeared in the doorway, his orange book held loosely in one hand. "Naruto. Report." His single eye took in the blood, the unconscious child, Naruto's guilty grimace, and Sasuke's furious scowl.
In the Pure Land, a different drama unfolded.
[Sakumo Hatake: That boy of mine! Reading that… that literature in the middle of the night! Instead of resting!]
[Uchiha Izuna: What did I tell you? He's a dedicated scholar of the form. Day and night research.]
[Nohara Rin: Kakashi… he always did have a… focused intensity. I just never imagined it was directed at… paper women.]
[Sakumo Hatake: It's a misunderstanding! A phase! Rin-chan, you have to believe me!]
[Uchiha Izuna: A phase that involves 'intensive study' at 2 AM? Face it, Sakumo. Your boy's a connoisseur. He's probably… supplementing his reading with practical application.]
The implication hung, vile and tantalizing.
[Nohara Rin: Practical… application? What does that mean?]
[Uchiha Izuna: Ah, it's a delicate matter. Not fit for public discourse. Might get me banned. Let me… explain in a private channel.]
A moment of digital silence.
[Nohara Rin: OH! That's… that's disgusting! Kakashi, you… you lecher!]
[Sakumo Hatake: IZUNA, YOU GRAVE-SOILING GHOUL! WHAT DID YOU TELL HER?!]
Desperate to salvage his son's honor in the eyes of the girl Sakumo suspected Kakashi had always carried a torch for, the White Fang made a fateful decision.
[Sakumo Hatake: Ren. A task for you.]
Ren, walking into the lit doorway of Tazuna's house, raised a mental eyebrow. Go on.
I need proof. Proof Kakashi isn't… engaging in supplemental activities while reading. Surveillance. You're already there. Use a concealment technique, observe him tonight. Clear his name.
You know my rates, Ren thought back, a shark smelling blood in the water.
I do. A pulse of resigned determination came through the link. The White Fang Flash. An S-ranked kenjutsu. My life's work. It's yours.
[System Alert: Donation Received! Sakumo Hatake has donated 'Shirohiga' (White Fang Flash) – S-Rank Kenjutsu!]
Pleasure doing business with you, Ren replied, absorbing the intricate chakra pathways and devastating cutting principles in an instant. But…
[Uchiha Izuna: Ah, the 'but.' Here it comes. The extortion escalates.]
But, Ren continued, ignoring the muted Izuna, Kakashi is an elite Jōnin. Former Anbu. His counter-surveillance is top-tier. My stealth skills are… adequate for ambushes, not prolonged, close-range observation. I'd need something more advanced.
[Sakumo Hatake: …You want a stealth technique too.]
For the mission's success. To ensure definitive proof of your son's… literary purity.
Another, heavier psychic sigh.
[System Alert: Donation Received! Sakumo Hatake has donated 'Shinobi Gatame' (Silent Shadow Weave) – A-Rank Stealth & Infiltration Technique!]
[Tobirama Senju: Sakumo, you are officially the most desperate father in the afterlife. You just paid a child to spy on your own son's nighttime habits.]
[Sakumo Hatake: I will restore the Hatake honor! If he is doing what Izuna implies… I'll have Ren find a way to Edo Tensei me back, and I'll perform a paternal vasectomy with my own blade!]
The declaration landed with shocking violence.
[Hyūga Hizashi: Byakugan approve! True clan discipline!]
[Might Dai: The Fires of Youth burn even in paternal rage! Magnificent!]
[Yagura Karatachi: Is… is this normal for Konoha? The family dynamics are… intense.]
[Third Raikage: In all my years dominating the ninja world, I've never seen such ruthless commitment to domestic oversight. White Fang, you have my genuine respect.]
The compliment triggered a chain reaction.
[Uchiha Madara: 'Dominating the ninja world'? You? When did this happen?]
[Third Raikage: In my era, Madara. I held the Land of Lightning in my palm.]
[Uchiha Madara: Holding one country is not 'dominating the world.' It's called having a job. I reshaped continents. What are your actual achievements?]
[Third Raikage: I fought the Eight-Tails to a standstill!]
[Uchiha Madara: I tamed the Nine-Tails and used it as a mount. Next.]
[Third Raikage: My Lightning Armor and Hell Stab are peerless!]
[Uchiha Madara: Self-praise is the scent of inadequacy. I had a fanboy who claimed to be the world's fastest. He died mid-boast.]
[Tobirama Senju: …I feel targeted.]
[Third Raikage: Fine! My finest hour! During the Third War, to cover my comrades, I held off ten thousand Iwa-nin alone! For three days and nights! The earth shook with our battle!]
He painted the picture with pride.
[Uchiha Madara: And?]
[Third Raikage: I… I fell. Exhausted. But undefeated!]
[Uchiha Madara: So you died. Your 'finest hour' is a story of glorious failure. If anyone can die fighting ten thousand, then every corpse on a battlefield 'dominated' it for a moment. Your legacy is a particularly stubborn corpse.*
The psychic blow was brutal, final. The Third Raikage's presence in the chat seemed to shrink, then fade into a sullen, wounded silence. He had been a pillar of his era, a titan of lightning. And in a few sentences, Madara had reduced him to a punchline.
In the small, warm, bloody house in the Land of Waves, Kakashi had finished administering basic first aid to Inari (who was now sleeping, pale but stable). He looked at Ren, who had a faint, distant smile on his face.
"Something amusing?" Kakashi asked, eyeing him.
"Just contemplating the nature of legacy," Ren said, his gaze drifting to the window, where the mist pressed close, and a new, chilling thought occurred to him.
With all this ancestral drama playing out in his head, with bets and humiliation and desperate fathers… he had almost forgotten.
Zabuza was still out there. Wounded, angry.
And his apprentice, the one with the heart of ice who killed without hatred, had just witnessed the Konoha team at their most vulnerable, most human, and most absurd.
The night was far from over. And the next move from the mist would not be comedic.