Desolation of the Caged Bird - Chapter 14

Chapter Text

Training Ground 10 wasn’t a place she wanted to be.

Every moment she stood and glanced around was a moment wherein needles stabbed relentlessly into her chest. The reality of standing here stung more than the insults of those idiot villagers. It stung more than the suspicion of her fellow shinobi, who would spit as she passed, whispering words of ‘slu*t’ and ‘whor*’ and ‘snake.’

“I can sense your killing intent.”

A voice emerged behind her. Her watcher wore an ANBU mask and spoke in a dry monotone.

“f*ck.”

She cursed almost instinctively, grinding her teeth.

“Mitarashi-san, I understand that you’re not pleased with your current predicament —”

“That’s a f*cking understatement!”

“Be that as it may,” the ANBU’s words were sharp. “You must restrain yourself. Hokage-sama’s words were clear. During your probationary period, you will be evaluated on numerous criteria. If you do not pass them all, your previous rank will not be reinstated. ”

“I know!” she spat. “One year, right? It’s just one year. I can handle it. Just f*cking watch me!”

The ANBU didn’t respond. She didn’t know what it was, but it irritated her even further. Her killing intent almost spiked, but she suppressed it. She balled her fists and clenched her teeth so hard blood would almost have started spurting out.

The most frustrating thing about this situation was that she had no one to blame. Who was she going to blame for her demotion? The Hokage? It was already extremely magnanimous of him to not expel her from the shinobi corps outright. The fact that she could still be a kunoichi was him being kind.

Was she to blame his mentor, Jiraiya of the Sannin? No. She was the one who went in search of him, after hearing of how the man had excelled in fūinjutsu, after hearing of his newfound prowess in the art. She was the one who got on her knees like a whor* and begged him to remove that f*cking parasitic mark on her neck.

She remembered how he’d examined it for an hour without saying anything, before shaking his head and muttering some nonsense about his teammate’s genius. He’d told her that his former teammate had placed numerous failsafes and with his current skill there could be unexpected side effects if he removed it now. He’d said, confidently, that if she was patient, in five or so years, he’d be capable of removing it without the risk of side effects.

She’d been the one who refused to wait. Five years? She couldn’t last another five secondsfeeling that filth on her. Every second the mark was on her was one in which she felt constantly defiled. Every additional second was one which drove her insane. To have a permanent reminder of that betrayal etched on her flesh and branded into her skin was something that made her wake up every morning and vomit.

Just hearing that he could remove it was enough for her. She said damn the consequences. f*ck them where they lay. She’d handle it. She could handle it.

Of course, it wasn’t like she could force him to remove it. She could bitch and moan and whine all she wanted, but there was no way to make him remove it if he didn’t want to. He’d been adamant at first, insisting on her waiting, and it was only after she started to strip in front of him that he changed his tune.

She’d heard that Jiraiya was a famous pervert. She’d been more than willing to give him a little show if it meant changing his mind. However, not only had he stopped her once she’d started stripping, he appeared outright insulted.

She’d somehow offended him by offering herself as eye candy. If Anko was being honest, it was a first. She didn’t have a habit of offering a show to just anyone, and it stung to be so bluntly shut down. Worse, never had she offered herself to someone and had them be offended.

To get rid of her, he agreed, saying that as long as she was willing to endure the consequences, he’d remove the seal immediately.

She got her wish. The Cursed Seal of Heaven was gone.

Unfortunately, a huge chunk of her memories vanished with it.

She remembered who Orochimaru was, she remembered her grievances and hatred, but a lot of things were gone entirely. She completely forgot the correct sequence of hand seals to numerous jutsu she could have sworn she’d mastered, and for some, she completely forgot their names.

Her snake summoning contract was severed the moment the seal vanished. How? She didn’t know. Even Jiraiya didn’t know. Some bullsh*t about Orochimaru implementing a clause that connected master and apprentice. It didn’t matter the specifics. All that mattered was that the snakes no longer answered her call, meaning over a good chunk of her techniques were just gone — smoked.

As if that wasn’t enough, her chakra quantity regressed to the level of a f*cking academy student as a result of the removal process. There were probably Genin with greater reserves than she had. The sudden reduction in chakra quantity also threw her chakra control out of balance, because she was used to controlling more, not less, her control was utterly atrocious.

The worst of all the side effects, however, had to be the damage to her emotions.

She’d always channeled her emotions into the Cursed Seal without knowing it. For years, her resentment, rage, vitriol, regret, despair, terror, and more were all pumped into that seal so she didn’t have to deal with any of it.

Once the seal was gone, there was nowhere left to channel those emotions, and she had no experience in controlling them — no experience in dealingwith them.

She’d become someone whose mouth had no filter. Her emotions were worn on her sleeve, her temper was akin to a giant ball of explosive seals, and her feelings were as open as a geisha’s legs.

She cursed anyone who cursed her. She flipped the middle finger to anyone who annoyed her. Flirted openly with anyone who caught her interest. Said the most brazen, damning, daring, and foolish things at inappropriate moments, and could spin on a dime from being happy to ripping out someone’s throat.

Anyone who saw her now would believe she was either neurotic or had several screws loose.

Less than a week ago, she’d gone from happily sharing a story and laughing drunkenly in a bar to smashing the face of a fellow shinobi twelve times into a barstool in rage because she’d mistakenly thought he’d been trying to cop a feel.

With terrible chakra quantity, atrocious chakra control, having lost access to all of her higher-ranked summoning techniques, and possessing an uncontrollable temper and unstable emotions that could turn on allies and enemies alike —

It was a complete miracleshe was still allowed in the field.

That was why she couldn’t place any hatred on the Hokage. The fact that she’d only been demoted showed the depths of his compassion. Anyone else would have sneered, laughed, and given her the boot immediately considering how much of a hindrance she’d be.

Thus, she, at sixteen years of age, four whole years after being promoted to Chūnin, was now being forced back into a Genin three-man team. The probationary period Minato had given her was one year. In other words, she had one year to get her chakra quantity, control, and emotions in order. If in one year, she hadn’t made any significant progress, then to prevent further incidents, she would be discharged from the Konoha Shinobi Corps.

Thinking of it almost made her fury spike.

After all, all of this was her fault. It was her impatience that caused her to be in such a predicament. Jiraiya warnedher. He told her. Yet, she didn't listen. She’d insisted.

Who could she blame but herself?

Who the f*ck could she blame?

“Your new teammates should be arriving shortly.”

“I’ve got eyes,” she cursed. “Are you going to stay here to make sure I don’t traumatize the brats? I might not be all there, but I’m not going to kill them.”

“I’m staying to make sure they don’t kill you.”

She barked a laugh. Then she remembered that ANBU stiffs didn’t have a sense of humor.

“You’re sh*tting me.”

“One of your new teammates is someone whose former teammate died in action as a result of envying his genius and was requested by his father to be put in a team with individuals who would not begrudge his talent. The other beat and hospitalized the man previously assigned to be his Jōnin Instructor before requesting a different team from Hokage-sama himself. Believe me when I say this, Mitarashi-san, despite your former rank and experience, you will be the least skilled member of your new team.”

“Now I knowyou’re f*cking with me,” she scoffed. “What kind of itty-bitty, wet-behind-the-ears Genin can beat their Jōnin instructor? That’s bullsh*t.”

“A Genius.”

“No amount of genius can breach the gap between a Genin and a f*ckingJōnin.”

“You should hope you’re wrong.”

“The f*ck is that supposed to mean?”

“If your teammates were not considered exceptional, Hokage-sama would not have signed off on letting you join them. He expects the relative skills of both your teammates and Jōnin Instructor will be more than enough to offset having you burden the team. In other words, the more skilled they are, the more likely you can continue your career.”

She bit down on her lip. “f*ck.”

The more she thought about it, the more it made sense. Throwing her into an unsuspecting Genin Team would just be torture for the poor brats. Hells, even her former fellow Chūnin didn’t want to touch her with a ten-foot pole right now. The Hokage wouldn’t be so heartless as to force a bunch of fresh out the academy Genin to deal with her. Even shewouldn’t be that cruel.

“Who the f*ck’s my instructor anyway? I wasn’t told.”

“Someone who’s also a genius — in his own right.”

Anko did not like the sound of that. Few individuals amongst the Jōnin Corps qualified to be considered geniuses, and all who did weren’t much older than herself. Nothing would be more mortifying than being put on a team with someone who was her former colleague and having them become her new leader.

It didn’t take long for the first of her new teammates to arrive. If the black hair and tantō placed against his back did not give away his identity, then the shirt he wore, emblazoned with the logo of a fan sectioned into two parts, one red and one white, made it clearer than ever.

A large yell almost broke her eardrums, and everyone’s attention snapped upwards to the person who arrived. Anko’s eyes almost bled at the sight of the green spandex, and she felt a sense of dread she’d not felt in a truly, truly long while.

Hokage-sama… truly wouldn’t… he wouldn’t…

“Your sensei is here. That completes my task,” the ANBU let go of the Hyūga’s hand, and vanished.

Anko swore. He would.

The Hokage assigned Might Guy as her sensei.

“f*ck. Me.”

His mother had told him, on one of those days where she was particularly conversational, that the Hokage was his father’s rival. She’d mentioned, sighing in reminisce, how when they were younger, both of them would compete against each other often, and in their attempts to outdo the other, they would somehow shine brighter than if they were pursuing their paths alone.

She’d stated, often, that “Wicked Eye Fugaku” would only be half the man he was today, were it not for the “Yellow Flash” Namikaze Minato.

It was not a concept he intrinsically understood. Non-intrinsically, he easily grasped the message that steel sharpened steel. Competition was the fire that lit growth and innovation. Yet, it was something he’d believed he would never experience, nor have the opportunity to experience.

A rival would imply that the individual was of similar skill level and capability as himself. It was not conceit, nor arrogance, nor was it with an exaggerated swagger that he would state such an occurrence was unlikely — if not outright impossible.

This was the conclusion he came to after encountering and interacting with his peers and outstripping them in every way. This was the conclusion he’d surmised after the death of Tenma, a death that could have been avoided had he not been desperate, been eager, to prove himself as equal to his younger ‘genius’ teammate.

There would be no rivals on his path. It would be trodden alone, all the way, to the end.

This was what he’d thought.

That was what he truly believed.

Before he encountered Hyūga Neji.

Outwardly, the cursory glance that had devolved into a stare-off between the two of them had seemed completely banal. Outwardly, there was no reaction whatsoever from his features. Yet, deep within, every additional second that their glance lingered filled Itachi with a sense of disbelief.

His Byakugan is activated.

It is constantly activated. Yet, the chakra consumption from keeping it activated is so minuscule as to be absolutely nothing. That would imply a level of chakra control that far surpasses that of an Expert Medical Nin. Even beyond that.

Perfect Chakra Control.

Absolutely no waste. Not even a Sensor Nin would notice anything amiss with his eyes.

The illusion placed over his eyes prevents others from noticing that he has his Byakugan activated. No, not an illusion. My eyes can detect trace amounts of chakra but it isn’t the same reaction I receive from Genjutsu.

A transformation. The Transformation Jutsu? Partial Transformation. He attained a Partial Transformation and has it constantly active only around his eyes to prevent others from discerning that his Dōjutsu is always active —

Beyond that, his First and Second Gates are open.

He’s managed to find a method to open both the First and Second Gates and keep them open without causing undue stress or damage to his body, and without any outwardly visible signs —

The only reason he had detected the varying abnormalities was due to his habit of instinctively activating his Sharingan for a brief moment when meeting new individuals. Without his Sharingan, without its ability to detect the flow of chakra and its perfect recall, it would have been utterly impossible to find anything amiss with Hyūga Neji.

Yet, somehow, in that brief moment they’d glanced at each other, Hyūga Neji realized it.

He realized his secrets had been discovered.

And in the same moment —

They were all gone.

Gone.

Even with his Sharingan, Itachi could no longer see the abnormalities.

How?

For the first time in a truly long while, the Uchiha Prodigy found his mind stimulated. His heart raced. There was a strange stimulation in his chest he’d never felt before. This was a conundrum he’d never encountered, a problem that was forcing him to use every iota of his wit and mind to arrive at an answer.

The fact that I was capable of seeing through the varying secrets indicates he has never encountered a Sharingan User directly before, otherwise, he’d have long been exposed by another and realize where he erred, preventing any Sharingan User from discovering his secrets in the future.

With that in mind, the ability to mask things from the Sharingan would imply an innate understanding of its visual capabilities and loopholes —

That is to say, within the span of meeting me and realizing I could see his hidden cards, he devised a countermeasure to the Sharingan?

Impossible.

No, improbable.

It is more likely that he already has similar countermeasures for the Byakugan, to prevent others in his clan from noticing, and extrapolated them toward the Sharingan —

Yet, even that would require a level of innate understanding of how the Sharingan functions. How would he —

It suddenly clicked.

Of course.

The Byakugan’s ability to peer into and through any object and read the flow of chakra. It can see the tenketsu that even the Sharingan is blind to. He directly looked into my eyes and saw the inner biological workings of my Sharingan, the tenketsu involved in the flow of chakra, the photoreceptor cells in my retina, rods, and cones, and the manner in which light refracts. He analyzed all of it and from there, reverse-engineered a method to alter his chakra’s visibility in a way that directly blocked the visual information from reaching my mind.

It isn’t the Sharingan he’s countering but my ability to interpret signals and wavelengths of light. Just as there are wavelengths of light that a normal human eye cannot see, he utilized partial transformation within himself to mask his secrets using a series of wavelengths the Sharingan cannot see.

And he did this in the span of seconds —

No, even shorter.

It was the first time, that a feeling surged within Uchiha Itachi, a feeling that made him say, deep within his mind —

…Genius.

Was this sense of disbelief, incredulity, befuddlement, and wonder, was it how he constantly made his peers, mentors, and family members feel? This feeling of watching someone do the highly improbable with relative ease —

Was this what they felt?

I see.

A rare, odd smile formed on Itachi’s lips.

Is this why Hokage-sama put me on the same team as him?

Before today, he had never even contemplated the possibility of masking his usage of the Sharingan. It did not seem something overtly necessary. The Sharingan was both the pride of the Uchiha and their calling card, and no Uchiha who felt pride in their kekkai genkai would ever mask their use of it.

The same should apply to the Hyūga, but here, the Clan Heir maintained an entirely different approach.

Having his eyes active constantly, but without his foes being aware of it would make it impossiblefor any method of ambush to ever succeed, and it would cause his opponents to vastly underestimate him.

It was why he was not surprised at all when Mitarashi Anko launched her attack, that Hyūga Neji effortlessly evaded with a single sidestep, and swept her off her feet with the back of his palm lightly pushing her right heel, offsetting her center of gravity.

The action was done so quickly he doubted the woman even understood how she’d fallen.

Itachi did not even blink when the boy’s palm made a beeline for the older girl’s heart because he understood, almost instinctively, that the genius wasn’t interested in killing the woman. From his eyes, he could see it. He had no interest whatsoever in Mitarashi Anko. Not enough to even kill her.

Mitarashi Anko wasn’t the target of his attack.

Hyūga Neji was testing the hidden ANBU.

He was testing the reaction speed of the village’s elite.

Even as the ANBU arrived and grabbed his palm, preventing his teammate’s death, Itachi felt troubled. Not troubled that his new teammate’s life was spared, but troubled only for one reason.

Too slow.

The ANBU arrived too slowly.

Hyūga Neji’s palm hadn’t been stopped by the ANBU.

Hyūga Neji had allowedhimself to be stopped.

There was a deliberate half-fraction of a second’s delay in his attack. Just enough for the girl’s life to be saved. This was what his Sharingan deduced.

…He didn’t notice.

He could ascertain from the ANBU’s body language that the man hadn’t realized that he’d entirely failed to stop a Genin from being able to kill someone under his protection. He was blissfully under the impression that he’d arrived in the nick of time.

Itachi found himself in silent contemplation.

Hyūga Neji was younger than him by about four years, but the boy’s skill, intelligence, quick-witted thinking, reaction time, and ingenuity was in no way inferior to his own.

He could not claim, with absolute certainty, that when he was Neji’s age, he could do the same. He could not claim that he’d have the confidence or the ability to test the reaction speed of a member of the ANBU Corps as a Genin fresh out of the academy —

And get away with it without that member ever realizing it.

This feeling…?

He understood.

He understood, now.

Uchiha Itachi finally understood what it felt like —

To meet a person worthy of being a rival.

“Your former teammate is making waves,” came a rasping voice. “Suna has put out a bounty on her head. It’s a sizable sum.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“I have no ties to my former village, and I care little for money. Kakuzu on the other hand…”

There was a silence that stretched, before the sound of mechanical parts, shifting and moving, echoed out within a forest.

“He has unresolved business with the First Hokage, and now, it’s open season on the man's only living descendant with a large monetary reward.”

“He plans on hunting her.”

“Yes.”

“Is there a reason you’re telling me this?”

“I don’t like meaningless fights. Nor does our leader.”

“Kukuku. I could care less what happens to Tsunade.”

“Do you know why she would kill the Wind Daimyo’s relative?”

“She’s always been prone to childish outbursts of rage.”

“The hardest Jinchuriki to capture will be the Fourth Hokage’s wife. The Uzumaki and Senju are considered distant relatives. If we could recruit —”

There was an abrupt laugh.

“I cannot see a world in which Tsunade betrays Konoha.”

“Many said the same about you.”

Another chuckle came. A non-committal chuckle.

“Why did she leave your village?”

“You seem unusually interested in my former teammate.”

“Her actions might be the thing that sparks the next War,“ there was a pause. “And, it might lead to conflict within the organization.”

“Oh?”

“Do you think she can defeat Kakuzu?”

There was a moment of silence.

“If he ends up delivering her head to the Wind Daimyo, you will kill him.”

There was an even longer moment of silence.

“Not out of anger, or rage, or for vengeance. But out of principle.”

“Principle?” The word was dripping with amusem*nt.

“If someone were to destroy a puppet of mine, even one I had long abandoned, one I had forgotten, one I had discarded — I would kill them. Because even if I did not care for it, the puppet was mine. It was not theirs to destroy.”

“Kukuku… I underestimated you, Sasori. I thought you were slow when it came to such matters.”

Sasori of the Red Sands let out a grunt. “Am I wrong?”

“Unfortunately I don’t hold as much value towards relics of my past as you do.”

“I see.”

The faint sound of mechanical parts moving echoed away, leaving only one pale-skinned man standing underneath the shade of a tree, garbed in a black cloak with red clouds.

The man’s serpentine eyes flickered occasionally, as his hand slowly rubbed at his chin.

“To think he was the sentimental type…”

A flicker of a memory ran through the mind of the man. A woman with blond hair kneeling, healing a grievous wound on his stomach and berating him. Another, an idiot with white hair laughing at the side, and the three of them, together, smiling.

Then, just as quickly as the memory came —

It vanished.

Desolation of the Caged Bird - Chapter 14 - Neckbeard_Satan (2024)

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