"System, how much can the Animator actually see?"
[The Animator can observe all history from the end of the Warring States up to your current time, most people's intense emotions, and their significant inner thoughts.]
"What about mine? Can he hear what I'm thinking?"
[Normally, no. The system shields you. Occasionally, we'll even toss out some fake thoughts to throw him off. We're hitchhikers here—we can't afford to get caught.]
Naraku smirked. The system had adopted his metaphor without missing a beat.
"And if I want him to hear something?"
[Then you can temporarily disable the shield and turn it back on later. Or you can feed me specific lines, and I'll 'accidentally' broadcast them for you.]
"Perfect."
Naraku tucked that away. He'd need it later. For now, he steeled himself and headed home, like a man walking to the gallows.
Crash!
A bottle shattered against the floor. A drunk man staggered forward, fist tangled in Naraku's long black hair, and slammed the boy into the wall. A kick followed; Naraku barely dodged.
"Pathetic! Move faster!"
The man reeked of alcohol, shouting insults between "training" strikes. His mind was too drowned in booze to realize—or care—how heavy his blows landed.
"You got shown up by that Hatake brat with no kekkei genkai? Do you have a death wish?!"
Naraku tried to block, but a fist crashed into his back. He choked on the pain, and that sound only enraged the man further.
"Useless noise! You dare whimper in front of me?!"
His hair yanked tight, Naraku was forced upright. He kept his gaze low, hiding the flicker of defiance in his eyes.
Yeah, keep going, Shinji. The second I get strong enough, you're screwed.
"Kayako should've never had you!" Shinji Uchiha spat. "If I'd known you'd be this worthless, I never would've let her give birth! Never!"
Naraku staggered through the next barrage, dodging what he could, bracing for what he couldn't. There was no option to quit. Not for Naraku Uchiha.
At last, after what felt like forever, the beating slowed. Shinji dropped him and stumbled into his room.
Naraku crawled to the bathroom mirror. Bruises bloomed across his limbs and torso. His lip split. A dark mark at his brow. His reflection was a mess of pale skin and swelling.
He grinned.
This would make getting Kakashi's attention so much easier. No healing. No cover-up. He even dug out a looser shirt that would slip and show skin when he moved. Tomorrow, he was going to school like this.
Lying down that night, he reviewed his plan one last time. Everything checked out. He closed his eyes.
The next morning, the academy bustled like always. Girls gossiped. Boys showed off half-baked jutsu.
Naraku slid into the room, tugging his sleeve over the bruises, head ducked, invisible as usual. If this was going to work, nobody else could notice. Nobody except Kakashi.
Good thing Naraku Uchiha had always been a loner. Long bangs, quiet presence. No friends, no one to look too close. His looks went ignored behind his curtain of hair.
"Morning, Kakashi-kun!"
"You're so cool, as always!"
"Hi, Hatake-kun!"
The chorus of girls trilled. Kakashi walked in, face impassive, as if their energy annoyed him more than anything. His eyes swept the room.
Naraku's heart jumped. He immediately looked down, hiding before he could be caught staring. Not yet. He couldn't reveal himself too soon.
There'd be sparring again today. They'd pair him with Kakashi—they always did. Nobody else could last more than a few exchanges.
This time, he had to make Kakashi notice.
His fingers clenched around his sleeve.
"Next match, Kakashi Hatake versus Naraku Uchiha."
The two boys stepped out. Kakashi's gaze sharpened. Scars marked his opponent's face—had he been training at home?
They squared off. The teacher barked the start. Kakashi lunged, kunai flashing. Naraku's defense lagged, slower than usual. He barely blocked and scrambled back, but Kakashi pressed harder, relentless.
Pain lanced through Naraku's body. Every dodge pulled at bruises. He gasped for breath, but Kakashi was already on him again.
A swipe of steel. Naraku jerked away, but the blade sheared off a lock of his bangs. His shirt lifted in the motion, exposing dark bruises across his ribs.
Hair trick was obvious, Kakashi thought, frowning. But this? Even extra training wouldn't leave marks like that.
He hesitated for half a second before resuming. A few more exchanges, and Naraku was flat on the ground, pinned.
The other students barely glanced. They assumed the injuries came from the match.
But Kakashi stared at the boy under him. Naraku didn't resist. Didn't fight back like usual. Just accepted defeat, silent. Something was off.
"Winner, Kakashi. Seal it."
By sunset, the streets glowed gold. Kakashi wandered aimlessly; home was empty without Sakumo, so why rush?
Near the river, he spotted someone on the grass slope. Naraku Uchiha.
The boy's cropped bangs revealed sharp features. His sleeve slipped, exposing a wrist swollen ugly. He winced at the touch, then tugged his shirt back down, hiding it.
Kakashi's jaw tightened. He almost walked over.
"Hey! Naraku Uchiha!"
The shout snapped him back.
Three boys in Uchiha crests strode up, smug and cruel. The leader pointed.
"Heard you lost to that outsider, Kakashi Hatake, again? You disgrace our clan!"
The others jeered.
"Do you even deserve the Uchiha name?"
"Trash like you doesn't belong in the same clan as Genya-sama!"
Naraku almost laughed. Perfect. The script had just written itself.
"Teach him a lesson, Genya-sama!"
Genya Uchiha sneered, kicking Naraku onto the ground and yanking his hair back. "Guess trash spawns trash."
Naraku's eyes flashed. Anger cracked his mask. "Don't you dare insult my father!"
"Am I wrong?" Genya scoffed. He'd bullied Naraku countless times and never seen a spark of defiance.
"If you actually fought back, I might even respect you. At least that'd be blood worth the Uchiha name."
He leaned closer, voice dripping venom. "Shinji Uchiha, your drunk of a father, has humiliated this clan for years. Always failing missions, always wasted. If that's not pathetic, what is?"
"You—!"
Naraku lunged. He slammed into Genya, fist cocked—then stopped just short.
No. He couldn't. Genya was an elder's spoiled son. Hitting him would invite retaliation Naraku couldn't risk. More importantly—if he won, Kakashi wouldn't have a reason to step in.
He froze.
That pause was all Genya needed. Snarling, he kicked Naraku off, seized his swollen wrist, and twisted hard, slamming him down.
Naraku grit his teeth, eyes squeezing shut, bracing for the punishment that followed.