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crescentmoonrider · 5 years

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Hey, what's one gotta do to get some info on dark time-line Minato, if he ever finds out his team is semi-alive and also why the hell anyone thought letting the snake guys be in charge of children was a good idea? Maybe some cuter stuff on team inadequacy issues too, if you don't mind

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So about that dark timeline Minato. One thing you need to understand is that this Minato has lost his entire team. Obito died in Kannabi and he couldn’t save him, Kakashi died and his body got desecrated, Obito’s eye stolen, and only the Sage of the Six Paths knows what Kiri did to Rin. (Minato has some idea about that, but he manages to keep the thoughts away most of the time.)

Minato has failed as a teacher. All his kids are dead. Minato has failed, and he refuses to fail anyone anymore, refuses to let anyone go through what he did. He will protect Konoha, will protect the children and the future of the village.

And most importantly, he will ensure no one starts a war with Konoha ever again. (Danzo quickly loses relevance.)

This would be bad enough as is, but things get even worse when Rin and Obito escape from Madara. See, their escape was far from sneaky. They actually more or less made Graveyard’s Mountain explode. (Or well, Rin made Graveyard’s Mountain explode and Obito kamui-ed them both away.)

It just so happens that a Konoha team was passing nearby at the time and decided to investigate. And there, buried in rocks and giant bones, laid Madara’s dead body.

Since Madara was more or less a freak of nature at this point in his life, between the face-titty and the weird root-like things in his back, Konoha quickly decides to have a specialist examine the body. Namely Orochimaru.

At that time, Orochimaru was still very much bitter about seeing the hat go to some brat instead of him, and didn’t like Minato at all. He buried himself in his research, careful enough to not leave traces or bodies behind, and when Madara’s body was presented to him it was like a gift from the heavens.

Madara was old, much older than any person Orochimaru had ever seen, and he had managed to somehow find a way around the compatibility issues with the First Hokage’s cells, something Orochimaru still couldn’t figure out. There was chakra residue on his corpse too, heavy and corrupted, much like a bijuu’s, but the report didn’t mention anything about a giant monster.

Orochimaru was intrigued, more curious than ever before.

And more surprisingly, the Hokage brat seemed just as invested in that research. In fact, Minato was helping Orochimaru, offering theories, assisting with the maths that Orochimaru never grew to like. Minato got it. Got him. The curiosity, the fever of research, the seemingly-unattainable goal behind the quest for knowledge.

Orochimaru wants to fight death, and so does Minato in his own way. (Minato doesn’t help with Orochimaru’s more questionable projects, but he doesn’t ask where some of his data comes from either.)

Orochimaru is entirely loyal to Minato, and Minato trusts him.

That last sentence is one of the reasons behind Orochimaru being trusted with team 7, including Minato’s own flesh and blood, as well as the child of Kushina’s best friend.

Another reason is that Orochimaru can help the kids reach their maximum potential. He knows sealing at a high level and will be able to teach Naruto even when away on missions, where Kushina can’t help. He is familiar with the sharingan, and his mastery of ninjutsu will be very helpful to Sasuke once he awakens his eyes and gets to copy the techniques.

Sakura is kind of the outlier here, as there is no parent to please and no clan technique to teach. But she was the first in academy for theoretical knowledge, and Orochimaru knows how to reach out to people with booksmarts. (Later, the discovery of her natural chakra control will make her a perfect student for Kabuto’s techniques.)

All of team 7 feels inadequate in some way.

Naruto in regards to his parents, especially his father. As said in this post, he has trouble with control. He also has trouble with focusing. Academy was very hard on him, as it required him to sit down and do nothing. He was lucky to be interrogated on substitution for his exam. (In truth, no one wanted to fail the Hokage’s son, so they asked him to demonstrate the one basic technique he mastered.)

Ironically enough, he can do rather advanced sealing even though it has a reputation for being extremely complex. Sealing is also not in the academy program, sadly. But even though he is an Uzumaki, and even though both his parents are sealing geniuses, Naruto has to work twice as hard to even understand how things work. Sealing doesn’t come easy to him. He can’t skip steps, has to think everything through, combine seals through addition before going back to take out the redundancies.

(Naruto is 12, and has mastered some advanced sealing. He knows how to make his own and knows to get creative and think outside the box. But when his father tries to explain things to him, he can’t understand, because they don’t think the same. His mother knows how to talk in a way he can follow, but it all seems so natural to her that he feels like a fraud.)

(One day Naruto will manage to control his chakra perfectly, one day he will make the golden chains, one day he will be a worthy Uzumaki, one day he will stand on his own and be someone more than the Hokage’s son.)

Sasuke also has family issues, and Itachi makes up half of them. Itachi graduated at 7, Itachi awakened his sharingan at 8, Itachi made ANBU at 11, Itachi made captain at 13. And father was so proud, always, always, always. Sasuke graduates at 12, already failing in all of Itachi’s steps.

It was always a game of catching up, one that Sasuke never won, not even once. He tried to cheat too, asking Shisui for help, and Shisui did help. (Unlike Itachi, Itachi keeps leaving Sasuke behind, never looking back. It’s unfair that Sasuke’s cousin supports him more than his own brother. It’s unfair that Sasuke’s father never looks at him with the pride he reserves for Itachi.)

(Sasuke is 12, and mastered the Great Fireball in a week. He hasn’t awakened the sharingan yet, but he has a large array of techniques, and his kenjutsu is, by Shisui’s word, pretty good. He chases after his brother and his father’s affection, not paying any mind to the admiration of his peers or the proud look in his mother’s eyes. All he sees is what he doesn’t have.)

(One day Sasuke will awaken his sharingan, one day he will surpass Itachi, one day he will make his father proud, one day he will be the greatest Uchiha, greater even than Itachi or Shisui or even the legends from old times, one day his name will be remembered and Itachi’s will be forgotten.)

Sakura fails the bells-test. No one ever tells her outright, but she knows she has. Orochimaru grabs her hair and cuts it off shoddily, and she can’t do a thing about it. She cries in frustration as Orochimaru taunts her. (He tells her incompetent ninja aren’t worthy of long hair, tells her she is lucky he chose to let her live, and when Naruto’s trap activates and Sasuke steals the bells, she knows she has failed.

Naruto tries to comfort her and pretend they needed her to distract Orochimaru, and Sasuke ensures her hair looks like something, and she should be so happy that he even looks at her. But all she hears are lies, and Sasuke cuts off the hair she grew for him like it means nothing, because it never meant anything but the stupid dreams of a stupid girl. Her teammates are a team already, and she doesn’t fit, is nothing more than a walking academy textbook, and what little anger she doesn’t feel at Orochimaru she directs at herself.

(Sakura is 12 and in a single day she lost all sense of belonging. Orochimaru is cruel, but he was right, and she will change that. She absorbs all he teaches, drinks up every single drop of knowledge like water in a desert, or maybe like poison. She doesn’t look at her teammates, looks past them as she aims to catch up to them, and suddenly she notices everything she didn’t before, the way Naruto’s eyes darken when the Hokage is mentioned, the way Sasuke doesn’t talk about his family. She wonders how she missed that, in the years she spent admiring Sasuke, but then she remembers she didn’t care about him, not really, not as a person so much as an ideal.)

(One day she will be a great ninja, one day she will make Orochimaru take back everything he said, one day she will look at herself with pride, one day she will understand why her team is suffering so much and she will change that, and the world will remember her name.)

Team 7 is a mess, but they grow stronger with adversity. All are starved for recognition, and they push each other up in every thing. Naruto and Sasuke have the longest-standing bond, they work together like a clockwork, pulling out crazy plan after crazy plan, and Sakura is here to ensure the plan actually works and all of them make it out alive. She completes them.

#naruto #naruto uzumaki #sasuke uchiha #sakura haruno #orochimaru #minato namikaze #yumi got asked stuff #anon #Turtle AU #yumi writes #i think read mores dont work for mobile ?? i dont know but if thats the case im very sorry #i got carried away as always #im sorry anon i know you asked for cute stuff at the end but #i dont know how to do that anymore #but if you still feel like asking about this au you can of course do it again #whatevsbla

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gwydionae · 4 years

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Eyes Wide Open

A/N: The urge to write this came on very suddenly, and it's a bit outside my normal style. It happened after I read an old Naruto fanfiction called "Rain Petals" by Sedentary Wordsmith from 2008, and while I don't know that mine and their's have much in common, I felt I should mention it. Not only did it make me feel inspired - it's 26 unique one shots dealing with Sasuke in one way or another - but it's just a darn good fic that deserves a bit of spotlight.

Anyway, fic completely under the cut as the descriptions of bloody corpses starts at the word go, lol. I wasn’t trying to be graphic, but some stuff is just gross by nature. :P

Posted on fanfiction.net >here<.

Teaser: Seven year old eyes gazed at his own seventeen year old corpse, his decade long obsession walking slowly away, blood still dripping from the eyes held tightly in his older brother's grasp.

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto. Canon divergence. Rated M for gore and violence.

Eyes Wide Open

Seven year old eyes gazed at his own seventeen year old corpse. They were as empty and lost as the bloody body, allowing the low, mirthless laughter emanating from the nearby figure to permeate the large room without garnering even a blink. His clothes and weapons were stained a vibrant red, contrasted occasionally by a protruding white bone. The fingers on his right hand were burned black. His seventeen year old eyes were still half open, vacant.

At some point the laughter had stopped, replaced by words, words that swirled around his seven year old eyes without really being comprehended. His dead body was being addressed. The speaker came forward, kneeling down, the black cloak with crimson clouds also showing signs of a brutal battle. A hand with a red ring slowly reached out and touched his pale face, turning his seventeen year old eyes towards their own. The man pried an eyelid open wide. His red eye with three black tomoe stared back. The laughter rang out again.

Black, empty, seven year old eyes watched as his brother ripped his seventeen year old eyes from their sockets, his body not even yet having the chance to lose its warmth.

Prize in hand, the older man seemed to contemplate his bloody corpse, pausing only briefly before carelessly, effortlessly tossing it into a candlelit corner of the dim room, a chokuto soon following its former owner. Seven year old eyes followed and stared as if entranced as light flickered and danced around his empty eye sockets, the bloody shadows boring into him, mocking his failure. His brother still lived. He had given him even greater power. His clan would most assuredly end with him. And those who had gone on before would not be avenged.

He could not join them, his mother and father, his aunts and uncles, his grandparents, cousins. He could not. He would not. He would remain, weak and broken and useless, unfit to wear the family crest upon his back, worthy only of at last being slaughtered. Seven year old eyes, too traumatized to cry, could merely watch as his decade long obsession walked slowly away, blood still dripping from his seventeen year old eyes held tightly in the older man's grasp.

_________________________________

Thirteen year old eyes snarled and screamed, silent and hoarse, as the shadow of his killer again loomed over his decaying body. His brother's eyes - his seventeen year old eyes - raked over his bloated abdomen, his reddened skin, his balding scalp, the stains from the foul liquids he secreted. A slight wrinkle of the nose was the only sign of the stench of decay in the air; a small smile betrayed the man's sick pleasure.

Hatred and anger raged at the one he once cherished and envied. He did not want those eyes - his eyes - to see his body in such a state, to sneer at his body in such a state. This disgusting, desecrated shell had trained, fought, sacrificed to gain the strength, the power to stand in the other's presence, and though death was his lone prize, he would not abide the shame those eyes made him feel. His thirteen year old eyes held too much pride and conviction for that.

His brother was speaking now, but he did not hear it. His intense seething was like a high pitched ringing, a focal point for his attention, vibrating in the thick air. Only the raised fists with fingernails painted purple managed to momentarily pause his solitary tirade, and when fingers unfurled, thirteen year old eyes widened, choking on humiliation and contempt.

Dull black eyes bore into him, one in each pale palm.

The hands slowly tipped, allowing their contents to roll off and plummet towards the hard floor, the sound of the impact like the boom of thunder. His brother's eyes landed next to his reddened, balding head. Empty sockets stared at dull black. His seventeen and thirteen year old eyes stared at them both.

Shaking with fury, thirteen year old eyes cried out their frustration and agony long after the courier had departed. _________________________________

Sixteen year old eyes studied what was left of his body impassively. His hair lay wreathed on the floor around his decaying scalp. Some of his finger and toe nails, as well as his teeth, had fallen out. Maggots had taken up residence in his chest cavity and eye sockets. Only his bloodstained clothes and faithful chokuto were left as clear indicators of who this mass of rotting flesh had once belonged to.

His brother's eyes had long since closed for the final time.

The squirming mass of maggots held his gaze. Even amongst death there was life, unfulfilling and grotesque as it was. The wriggling scavengers gnawed at his remaining flesh, consuming his body to build their own. They would go on to live their short, meaningless lives, and die unknown to anyone.

He had been a maggot in life. Clinging to death, in both his inability to let go of lost loved ones and his obsession with pursuing a murderer, he scratched and clawed his way to power, tearing down others to build up himself. His village, his team, his best friend, all became mere tools in his quest for vengeance. All of it so he could burn fast and bright, extinguishing before his life's only ambition could ever be fulfilled. And now his remains lay still and forgotten, one less unwanted pest in the world of men.

He had been a maggot. Sixteen year old eyes could see that now. But there was nothing to be done for it. He would stay among his fellow parasites until they left him behind, and when his rotten corpse fully decomposed, eventually leaving no trace of the life cut short, he would remain in his involuntarily acquired tomb, his eyes used to the lonely darkness. _________________________________

Twelve year old eyes widened in disbelief and dread at the two figures before him. His stolen seventeen year old eyes followed the slope of their cloaked arm down a hand with a fingernail painted purple toward the grim display of flesh and bone in the candlelit corner. Even the maggots had nearly all left him now, a hollow gaze and gasp visible beneath what was left of his dry, cracked skin. But it wasn't his stolen seventeen year old eyes he wished to shield from the sight; it was the wide, bright blue eyes, the eyes that shone with denial and despair.

The hand with the red ring reached up to gesture to the gloating face where the only two thriving pieces of the nearby corpse remained, filled with triumph. His eyes, but not his triumph. The other figure stared in shock, realization dawning on the all too innocent face. Thick, heavy tears flowed steadily, unceasingly down tanned cheeks. Whispers of grief escaped from between growing, sharpening teeth, turning into snarls of rage. Blue eyes darkened to red. And twelve year old eyes watched helplessly as his best friend clashed with his brutal murderer.

Wind and fire roared within the confines of the dark room. The two became thirty as twenty-eight additional tear-stained faces popped into existence, all avoiding the gaze of their black cloaked opponent. But as fists, weapons, and chakra clashed, more and more wisps of smoke filled the room as thirty rapidly dwindled to twenty, to ten, to five.

Splatters of crimson decorated the walls and floor, adding fresh stains to his grave as twelve year old eyes tried wildly to discern which of the combatants it was spilling from. Both friend and foe bore injuries, but as five became two once more, the gap in skill and damage taken showed clearly in the older man's stoic countenance and the younger's ragged breaths.

Twelve year old eyes felt cold. Numb. His friend was going to lose. His friend was going to die here, body left to be the food of maggots and forgotten alongside his own abandoned corpse. His friend who had tried so desperately to save him from his fate. His friend who he'd betrayed, mocked, scorned, forsaken.

Animalistic eyes were unable to keep up with the assault while avoiding the other's deadly gaze as another blow aimed to kill descended.

His friend, his one and only true friend, who did not deserve the same dishonorable death as a selfish failed avenger.

The hand with the red ring wielding the bloody kunai seemed to slow in its approach. The whipping of the black cloak, the rippling of the dark hair, all movement suddenly, inexplicably waited for shocked, feral eyes to catch up. He watched and dodged as the trajectory of the kunai towards his vulnerable throat was revealed, ducking out of the way with a foresight the older man had seen only once before and had been certain would not be seen again. Red eyes refused to blink as the near miss flew by, his mind registering the split second of an opening with which to deal his own fatal wound, an uncharacteristically exact and precise blow.

Now, Naruto!

Swirling, howling wind and chakra struck his brother squarely in the chest. Blood poured from pale lips parted in horror as red eyes turned black trailed down to the carnage spewing from their body before fluttering closed. Knees giving out, the older man sank to the floor, crumpling into a gory heap. The room fell silent. Red eyes returned to blue. And stolen seventeen year old eyes grew dim once more.

Twelve year old eyes watched as the remaining figure briefly hovered over the defeated before tentatively kneeling down. Such a position was held, soft squelching noises the only disturbance, and upon finally standing back up, the other boy turned toward his derelict candlelit corner. He glanced at the tanned hands grasping something in their bloody grip.

"I think you should have these back, Sasuke."

Two black eyes - his eyes - were placed gently on the ground near his rotting corpse. His brother's eye sockets stared into nothingness, empty.

"I'm sorry. And... thank you."

Soft tears once again dripped from blue eyes, though twelve year old eyes were calmed by the sight of a small smile and the continued sound of a gentle voice. The presence of his best friend brought him a peace he hadn't known since his eyes were much younger, holding a far more innocent glint, and the words spoken to his broken body reminded him of laughter and joy.

The other boy had done the impossible and saved a dead man.

Six year old eyes smiled as they watched their friend walk away. Fire purified his remains to ash, the space around him growing even brighter and warmer than the cleansing flames. He could see his family again. He could rest now. His eyes closed for the final time.

_________________________________

A/N: Are line breaks gone??? Where did they go?? Am I just being dumb?? Anyway sorry for all of the eyeballs. XD Also there’s a specific, uh, thing I did in my writing that I doubt anyone will pick up on, but there is a specific paragraph towards the end where, in case what happened is too vague, it gives a bigger clue - I was very particular about when I used the words “his” and “he”.

As always, critics and grammar police are appreciated!

#naruto #sasuke uchiha #uchiha sasuke #itachi uchiha #naruto uzumaki #uchiha itachi #uzumaki naruto #my fanfiction #yup there i go ignoring canon again #don't ever expect a story from me in which itachi lines up with his canon self lol

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