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200 Powerstones extra chapter.
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Far from Sunagakure, in one of Suna's ninja bases, everything was under the strictest possible surveillance.
Anyone passing nearby would be arrested or even eliminated to prevent the leak of information about the movements they were carrying out.
In the center of the base was a large stone shelter, making it the most important part of the facility.
In the center of the shelter, the monk Bunpuku sat with his hands joined in prayer. His face, etched with thousands of wrinkles, radiated a peace that felt insulting to the Sunagakure advisors watching from the shadows.
In front of him, a nine-year-old boy stood with his arms crossed and a smile bordering on manic.
"Are you ready, Arata?" the Third Kazekage's voice echoed, looking at the boy who, for the current situation, seemed completely stable—or even excited about what was going to happen.
"I've been ready since you chose me, Kazekage," Arata responded, his amber eyes gleaming under the torchlight. "Stop praying and give me the one tails already. I'm tired of waiting—I want to see what all of you are so afraid of."
All the adults, including Bunpuku, looked at the boy who was starting to look impatient. They knew who Arata was: an orphan from Suna who survived by stealing food and even defeated a genin squad before entering the academy.
This led the Third Kazekage to personally invite him to the academy upon seeing his potential—and he showed it, with a ferocity in combat that led him to graduate early and even reach chūnin.
His skills were rare, but what made him dangerous was his use of Fūton, especially for moving at high speeds and pressurized wind to shred his opponents—all at just 12 years old.
The reason he hadn't been considered for future Kazekage or jōnin was his aggressive mentality and love for battles, which caused his genin team to be killed when facing an ex-Kumo jōnin.
Leaving Arata, with his strength and Fūton mastery, to defeat him—earning the nickname "Rabid Coyote of the Desert." Though with what they were about to give him now—One Tails— it might be better as "Bloody Tanuki."
The bijū transfer process was one of the most secret things in each village, and most kept it as an S-class secret. Many preferred to switch the jinchūriki with a newborn, as it would help improve their body and reserves.
But for the Third Kazekage, who knew he didn't have enough time to wait for one to grow, he chose Arata—though he had another person in mind first, but that one rejected it, saying he wouldn't be the best person to be a jinchūriki.
When the chakra chains connected the monk's chest to Arata's, the air in the room grew heavy, as if gravity had multiplied. Shukaku's chakra didn't flow like water—it burst out like a scorching sandstorm, tearing through the boy's chakra pathways from the sheer amount of bijū chakra.
Any other child would have screamed until tearing their vocal cords. Arata, instead, clenched his teeth as his skin turned red and began to crack like his skin was made of sand.
He felt something immense, ancient, and filled with pure hatred trying to claim his mind—and especially his body.
"You disgusting brat! I'll crush your bones from the inside!" roared a deep, raspy voice in his subconscious.
Arata closed his eyes trying to quiet the load screams but he feel somthing grabbing him to his mental space. He found himself in an infinite desert under a blood-red sky. In front of him, a sand raccoon with black markings—the Ichibi—loomed like a mountain of malice and madness.
"Shut up for a second," Arata said, grabbing his head from the intense pain—though that didn't stop him from walking toward the beast without a trace of fear.
"I'm not like the old man. He treated you like a burden. I see you as a gift—and the way to get stronger and enjoy battles even more," Arata said, staring into One tails eyes.
One tails roared, launching sand spears that stopped millimeters from Arata's face due to the seal binding them.
"Listen to me, raccoon," the boy continued, widening his smile. "I know you want blood. I know you want destruction. There's a war brewing out there. If you give me your power, I promise I'll let you out to play more than that monk ever did in his whole life," Arata said to the one tails, who let him continue at the words of being free.
"And they've told me you don't let your hosts sleep—so you'll have to let me sleep if you accept those conditions. We'll have fun killing ninjas from all the elemental nations who get in our way. What do you say? Do you prefer being locked in an old man who prays, or in me—who wants to fight the strongest people in this world?"
The silence that followed was absolute. One tails narrowed his black-and-yellow eyes. For the first time in decades, he felt something that wasn't pity or fear from his jinchūriki—it was pure excitement.
"Heh... hehe... HAHAHAHA! You're an arrogant brat!" One tails let out a laugh that shook the mental world. "Fine, Kid! Let's see if your body can handle my fun but i am in charge of everything!"
In the real world, Arata opened his eyes. Sand-colored chakra exploded around him, sending the sealers flying and cracking the stone walls of the tower. The boy didn't faint. He stood up, breathing heavily, as a seal mark on his chest pulsed with a sinister glow.
"The sealing is complete," Chiyo said, sweating from all the chakra she had used.
Two month later, in the most remote training grounds of the village, the temperature exceeded 45 degrees. Arata stood in the center of a crater, surrounded by twelve steel-reinforced combat puppets controlled by the best elite division puppeteers.
If you look at Arata's body, it's not in the best condition, having spent almost a whole month in the hospital healing the wounds from the sealing ritual, thanks to it being a person-to-person sealing instead of one involving a baby.
"Attack!" the instructor ordered.
Arata didn't wait. He didn't make slow hand seals. He just let the Sand move by it owns, and his body became enveloped in a layer of sand that wrapped around him, creating a miniature raccoon compared to the bijū's normal size.
He didn't take long to move at quite a fast speed, leaving sand behind in his path. It was a violent assault. With a jump, he planted himself in front of the first puppet and, with a sand claw, reduced it to splinters of wood and metal.
"Faster! At this rate, you'll have to bring me the Kazekage to have fun!" Arata shouted, laughing maniacally.
The puppets launched bursts of senbon, but the projectiles were simply deflected by the sand surrounding the boy. Arata, with his same amused smile that appeared so often in his battles,
Looking at the rows and rows of puppets, he formed hand seals and then opened his mouth.
"Hardened Sand Bullet Barrage"
From Arata's mouth—which had more of a raccoon appearance—sand bullets shot out, more sand bullets toward the puppets, making them fall like birds that got shot flying.
When it ended, Arata stood among the wooden remains, chest heaving, with a look that sought more. He wasn't tired—he was euphoric.
At the edge of the field, watching from a raised rock, Daigo. He had been silently observing the entire training. His hands were in his pockets, watching the power of Suna's new jinchūriki—and he was glad to know the Kazekage's new moves.
Arata turned his head, and his eyes locked on Daigo's. The air between them seemed to vibrate.
"You," Arata said, walking toward him, ignoring the instructors trying to stop him. "I've seen you. You're the guy who rejected being the jinchūriki—the one everyone calls the 'natural prodigy'."
Daigo just watched him for a while until, with a stone shunshin, he appeared in front of Arata, who looked at him challengingly.
"Well, I prefer to just call myself Daigo, but whatever's easier—you can call me that," he said, watching as the sand cloak disappeared from Arata's body, leaving him normal.
"Daigo, I have a question: why did you reject the One tails?" Arata asked.
"Huh? Ichibi? Well, it's not my style. Though it would help me get stronger, and having a bijū isn't bad—I prefer to get strong my own way, not with a bijū. Besides, I think you're a better jinchūriki than I would be," Daigo responded.
At this, Arata seemed to feel underestimated and, without warning, threw a punch at Daigo—who knew it was coming and stopped it with his own hand.
"Isn't it bad manners to attack a friend?" Daigo asked, squeezing his fist even harder.
Arata didn't respond—just used his other hand to make the sand under Daigo's feet start rising, forcing Daigo to use Kawarimi to escape the sand, appearing a bit away from him.
Arata didn't let up, making the sand in front of his feet rise in a tsunami toward Daigo—who just closed his eyes, using the First Breath of the Seven Heavens, striking with all his strength toward the tsunami, clearing a path to Arata, who was surprised.
Not waiting, Daigo ran toward Arata, connecting a combination of punches before kicking him—though, Arata with the help of the sand, didn't take much damage. He got up to form hand seals.
"Wind Release: Drilling Air Bullet"
An air bullet shot from his mouth toward Daigo, who quickly created a stone wall—then sank beneath the sand, avoiding the stone wall's destruction.
Arata, not seeing Daigo behind the destroyed wall, could only laugh at seeing that even the prodigy everyone talked about couldn't defeat him.
Though right beneath his feet, a stone fist emerged straight to his chin, making him fall to the ground completely unconscious and blood coming from his mouth.
Daigo, looking at his fist, could only shake his head—then look at the Kazekage approaching.
"Well done. This should bring down his arrogance," the Kazekage said, looking at Arata's body, which was grabbed by ANBU.
"No problem, Kazekage-sama. When he wakes up, you can send him to my team's training. We always practice there," Daigo said.
"I'll think about it. You may go."
Daigo nodded and disappeared in his new favorite jutsu—the Shunshin.
End of chapter