Naruto: Kagurazaka

I awaken on my futon with that all-too-familiar pounding in my chest—the reminder that my defective heart is still a fickle beast during sleep. Nighttime has never been my friend, not when I must vigilantly reapply the barrier that keeps my heart from betraying me in slumber.

I shift slowly, reaching for the small vial of stabilizing serum on my bedside table, and carefully administer it as I'd done countless times before. Even in the early hours, the routine is both a burden and a solace.

Once the barrier is securely in place, I sit up and swing my legs over the edge of the futon, feeling the cool wooden floor beneath my feet. I shuffle over to the bathroom, splashing cold water on my face.

The mirror reflects a stranger now—a face that isn't quite the Yuuki Kagurazaka I once knew, but rather the one I've been forced to accept. In this new body, I'm finally aging as I should, and while it stings to lose parts of my past self, there's a certain relief in knowing I'll at least grow up normally.

After tidying up and changing out of my sleeping yukata, I step outside into the calm of the early morning. The mansion's corridors are quiet, almost reverent in the pre-dawn light, and I make my way along the garden path.

That's when I nearly collide with Hinata. I've always found her presence somewhat delicate—she stutters, has a gentle timidity about her, and still, despite everything, she calls me "Akai nii-san" with that endearing deference reminiscent of how one might greet an elder brother.

"Good morning," I say casually, the words feeling as routine as my morning barrier application.

"Good morning…" she replies softly, her tone wavering as if uncertain. In that moment, my mind's ear picks up the subtle cadence of her unspoken worries through our thought communication.

Thought Communication Translation: Akai treats me differently from Neji... I'm still scared of what happened yesterday. I don't want to feel that again...

I pause, the unfiltered thoughts drifting into my consciousness. "What happened yesterday?" I blurt out aloud before I even register the mistake. The question hangs awkwardly in the air. Hinata's eyes widen in confusion, and her voice—barely above a whisper—tints with a puzzled "Pardon me?" as she repeats her greeting.

Immediately, I regret my slip and force a chuckle to cover my embarrassment. "Never mind," I say quickly, smoothing over the mishap. "I'm off for a while," I add, giving a slight nod as if dismissing an unimportant query. Looks I'm still half asleep, I'll grab some coffee later.

Before I can continue down the path, another stream of thoughts from Hinata halts me.

Thought Communication Translation: Akai Nii-san seems to be out of it, I wonder if he hated us, the main family too, father—he used the seal yesterday. I could still feel the killing intent when Neji sparred with me. It scares me to remember...

...Ah, so it has come to that

If I recall correctly, this should be in one of Neji's flashbacks, though I can't be entirely sure. Oh well, it doesn't have anything to do with me.

With a final nod to Hinata—a silent apology for my probing—I continue down the corridor until I reach the kitchen. The grand, traditional Japanese mansion conceals modern comforts, so I pass by the sleek appliances with little thought. Today, however, I decide to break tradition: I'm cooking my own breakfast.

The servants, usually busy and silent, start chattering among themselves as soon as they notice me entering the kitchen unannounced. Their collective thoughts ripple in the shared mental space of our thought communication network.

Thought Communication Translation: Isn't Akai supposed to be above kitchen duties?

Thought Communication Translation: What's he doing making toast himself? And he didn't pass out??? I hope he doesn't cause Elder Takahiro would give us an earful if that defect does!

Thought Communication Translation: This is most unusual…

I ignore their silent complains, focusing instead on my task. I open the small fridge next to the storage room and retrieve a package of toast, its simplicity echoing my current state of mind. With practiced ease, I slide it into the toaster, then fetch a small dish of butter from a drawer nearby.

While the toaster hums softly in the background, I lean against the counter and let my mind wander. The scent of toasting bread fills the room, mingling with the quiet anticipation of a new day.

After the toaster let out a loud ding, I casually plucked the slices and tossed them onto a small plate. The buttery aroma clung to the air as I took a moment to contemplate my next move. The house was still stirring awake, and I wasn't in the mood for pleasantries. Slipping one piece of toast between my teeth, I scrawled a brief note for Elder Takahiro.

"Out for a while. -Akai"

Short and vague, just how I liked it. Today was blissfully free of Shisui's pestering lessons—he'd mentioned a mission yesterday, which meant no mentor breathing down my neck. Not that I called him my teacher anyway.

I bit into the toast, savoring its simplicity, and made my way outside into the crisp morning air. The Hyuga compound stretched out before me, pristine and orderly as always. Cherry blossoms fluttered in the breeze, their delicate petals contrasting sharply with the rigid formalities ingrained into this clan's bones.

It didn't take long before Renji made his predictable appearance, stepping into my path with a practiced bow. His dark hair was neatly tied back, and he wore the reserved expression typical of someone tasked with being an "adjutant" for a problem child like me. Elder Takahiro's doing, of course—a way to both keep an eye on me and ensure I didn't cause too much trouble.

"Good morning, Akai-sama," Renji greeted smoothly, his voice respectful but measured.

I caught the flicker of surprise in the eyes of nearby servants as they overheard the formal address. The -sama suffix wasn't typically reserved for a branch family member with a branded forehead like mine. But my standing wasn't entirely that of a mere servant either. Just like Neji, I was the child of a powerful Hyuga. His father was the clanhead's twin, and mine is an Elder with so many connections. That alone afforded me privileges most branch members could only dream of.

Renji's polite inquiry pulled me from my thoughts. "Where to today, Akai-sama?"

I finished the last bite of toast and dusted off my hands. "Elder Matsu's residence," I said casually.

Renji's expression didn't waver as he nodded in acknowledgment. "Understood."

Without further ado, we set off down the stone-paved path leading toward the elder's quarters. The servants resumed their tasks, whispering among themselves but daring no further interruptions.

The sharp click of our sandals against the polished stone echoed through Elder Matsu's residence as we approached. The wooden sliding door creaked open with a soft push, revealing Matsu standing awkwardly in the entryway. His usual smug demeanor was nowhere to be found; instead, he looked as though he'd aged ten years overnight. Trembling fingers pressed against the doorframe as he forced a brittle smile.

"Ah, Akai-sama..." Matsu's voice quavered, trying and failing to project confidence.

Renji stood beside me, his gaze narrowing slightly at the strange display. The shift in Matsu's demeanor hadn't gone unnoticed. This was the same elder who had always carried himself with an air of superiority, puffing his chest like a peacock in front of branch family members. Renji despised him for it—Matsu was the one who fanned the flames of resentment among the younger Hyuga, turning the caged bird seal from a symbol of loyalty into an instrument of fear.

Thought Communication Translation: So, this is what fear looks like on you, old man... Disgusting.

Renji's face remained impassive, but the subtle tightening of his jaw betrayed his thoughts. Elder Matsu, for his part, glanced nervously between us, beads of sweat forming on his wrinkled brow.

"Elder Matsu," Renji said bluntly, his voice devoid of any warmth. "Is there anything wrong?"

Matsu's lips twitched, struggling to maintain composure. "N-Nothing at all, Renji-kun," he stammered. "Just surprised to see... Akai-sama here again so soon."

Thought Communication Translation: Why did this monster bring somewhat like him?

Their eyes locked in a silent battle—Renji wary, Matsu trembling beneath the weight of invisible shackles.

"Cut the chitchat," I interrupted coolly, stepping between them. "Show me the basement."

Matsu flinched as though struck but recovered quickly, bowing shallowly. "Of course, Akai-sama. Right this way." His voice wobbled with forced civility.

Renji followed behind me without a word, though I could sense his curiosity simmering beneath the surface. He wasn't a fool—he'd picked up on the strange dynamic between me and Matsu, but for now, he chose to remain silent.

The elder led us through narrow hallways adorned with scrolls detailing ancient Hyuga techniques. The scent of old parchment mingled with faint traces of incense, creating an oppressive atmosphere. At the end of the hall, Matsu paused before a heavy wooden door reinforced with metal braces.

"This... is it," Matsu said, his voice barely above a whisper. He hesitated, glancing nervously at me.

I arched an eyebrow. "What are you waiting for? Open it."

His trembling hands reached for the latch, and with a groan of protesting wood, the door creaked open, revealing a steep staircase descending into darkness. A faint chill wafted up from below, carrying with it the scent of damp stone and secrets long buried.

Renji's brow furrowed as he peered into the shadowy abyss. "What exactly is down there?"

Matsu swallowed hard, his voice cracking. "T-The... special archives, Akai-sama. As you requested."

Thought Communication Translation: I don't want him out of all people to find out, but since he's with the monster then he should probably keep quiet about me because the monster still needs me.

I offered a faint smirk even though the Gourd head just called me monster twice. "Good. Lead the way."

Matsu hesitated, but a sharp glare from me was all it took for him to descend the stairs, his footsteps echoing hollowly against the stone. Renji and I followed closely behind, the weight of unspoken truths pressing down on us with each step into the darkness.

We descended into the basement, the air thick with the smell of damp stone and old parchment. The stairs groaned beneath our feet until the narrow corridor opened up into a dark library lined with towering shelves. Scrolls, ledgers, and bound journals lay neatly stacked but caked with age.

Without waiting for Elder Matsu to find the light switch, I strode forward and began browsing the archives. To the average person, the room was pitch-black, but to me, it was as bright as midday. Magic Sense rendered darkness meaningless.

Renji frowned beside me, clearly uncomfortable with the dim atmosphere but unwilling to complain. "What exactly are you looking for?" he asked, his voice low.

I caught the flicker of curiosity in his thoughts and decided to play this to my advantage. Activating Thought Guidance, I subtly nudged his mind toward a calm and cooperative state.

Thought Communication Translation: Maybe it's better not to ask too much... He knows what he's doing.

Satisfied, I continued rifling through the shelves until my magic perception picked up a subtle movement—Elder Matsu had finally found the light switch. His trembling fingers hovered over it, ready to flip it on.

Not yet, I thought calmly, closing the scroll in my hands just as the lights blazed to life.

Matsu returned to our side, his forced smile brittle as he tried to appear composed. His gaze flickered nervously to the scroll I held, and for a brief moment, raw panic flashed across his face.

Renji's sharp eyes didn't miss the reaction. "What's the problem, Elder Matsu?" he asked coldly.

Matsu quickly masked his unease with a dismissive wave. "N-Nothing at all, Renji-kun," he stammered.

Thought Communication Translation: He can't know. He mustn't find out.

Renji wasn't convinced. He turned his attention to me. "Akai-sama, what's that scroll?"

I offered him a pleasant smile, one that conveyed nothing but vague amusement. "This?" I held up the scroll casually. "It's just research on chakra ores. You know, that special metal that absorbs chakra. Pretty fascinating stuff."

Matsu's eyes widened slightly before narrowing with forced composure. "Y-Yes, precisely," he said, seizing the opportunity. "Research on chakra ores. Very valuable, but ultimately harmless."

Renji's expression remained skeptical, but he relented with a nod. "I see," he muttered, though I could sense lingering doubts.

Satisfied that the situation was defused, I tucked the scroll under my arm, my mind already focused on its true contents—the detailed results of Matsu's experiments on controlling and activating the caged bird seal, despite being branded with it himself.

I couldn't afford for Renji to know the truth. Pawns that destroyed each other were worthless.

Page Break

Seated in the cramped but functional room Matsu had provided, I surveyed my surroundings with mild amusement. Originally a storage space in the basement, it now served as my private workspace. Wooden shelves lined the walls, and a sturdy table stood in the center, cluttered with tools, scrolls, and experimental materials.

I adjusted the odd fusion of a lab coat and kimono draped over my shoulders, the fabric flowing awkwardly as I moved. Renji stood beside me, mirroring my attire with a stoic expression.

"You don't have to wear that, you know," I remarked dryly.

Renji glanced down at the coat with mild disdain. "Protocol is protocol," he replied, though his thoughts betrayed him.

Thought Communication Translation: This is ridiculous. Why am I even here wearing this nonsense?

Suppressing a smirk, I turned my attention back to the rough chunk of chakra ore sitting on the table. A recent acquisition, purchased cheaply due to its raw, unrefined state. I poured a steady stream of chakra into it, watching as the energy coated its uneven surface, creating chaotic patterns that shimmered faintly.

"Hm," I murmured. "It's just a tool to extend chakra weapons."

Renji tilted his head. "Meaning?"

"It amplifies chakra blades, like a scalpel extension. The problem is that it's brittle—it can break, and it won't strengthen with use."

I tapped my finger thoughtfully against the metal's surface. "No magicules either. Completely mundane."

"Hm? Magicules?" Renji asked bluntly.

I didn't answer immediately, my mind already drifting toward possibilities. What if I forced it to become magisteel? Would it lose its chakra-absorbing properties?

Pulling out the periodic table of elements unique to this world, I spread it across the table. This wasn't some ancient Edo-era setting—the existence of electricity implied chemical advancements as well. One element caught my eye: Nl, Nullium.

There was no information about it in the journals, no references to its properties or uses. Curious.

Crossing my arms, I pondered its significance until an idea sparked in my mind. Grabbing a sample of the chakra ore with both hands, I channeled chakra into it while simultaneously manipulating magicules to reclaim that same energy.

Sparks crackled violently across the surface, and Renji stiffened, ready to intervene. "Akai-sama—"

"Stay back," I ordered calmly.

The ore glowed fiercely, light bursting outward like a silent flashbang. Renji shielded his eyes, blinded by the sudden brilliance.

When the light faded, two distinct materials lay in my hands. On the left, fine crystal-like sand shimmered faintly—Nullium. On the right, a soft yet familiar alloy gleamed under the dim basement light: aluminum. That was the whole reason they're so easy to shape, you can even melt and mold to shape it.

I stared at them in fascination. So that's it. The chakra ore wasn't a pure element—it was a compound. The chakra-absorbing property belonged to Nullium.

A slow grin spread across my face. "Now we're getting somewhere," I muttered.

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To be continued.