Chapter 68: Sealing the Fragments
As the tense discussion concluded, Jiraiya moved to the edge of the still-raging Amaterasu wall. Using a specialized fire-suppression scroll, he carefully funneled a portion of the black flames into its containment seals, creating a man-sized passage. Without a word, he stepped through and was gone.
Matters concerning jinchuriki were among Konoha's deepest secrets, especially when the vessels were infants. Knowledge of their identities needed to be tightly controlled, a circle of trust as small as possible. The gathered jonin outside the wall would remain outside; those within had already paid the ultimate price for their proximity to the battle.
After Jiraiya left, the silence within the ring of fire felt heavier. Hiruzen looked at Fugaku, whose face was a mask of pained concentration. "Hold on, Fugaku. Jiraiya will return shortly."
Fugaku gave a tight, pained nod. The strain of overusing his Mangekyō was becoming physically apparent. Sharp, throbbing aches radiated from his eye sockets, and his vision had begun to blur at the edges. He could endure it, but the cost was mounting.
Nearly ten minutes of strained silence later, the wall of black fire rippled again. A new passage opened, and Uchiha Mikoto entered, moving with swift, purposeful grace. In her arms, swaddled tightly, was her three-month-old son, Uchiha Sasuke.
Her eyes immediately found the still forms of Minato and Kushina. A profound sadness washed over her features. "Kushina…" she whispered, her voice thick with grief. She stood in silent tribute for a long moment before steeling herself and walking to her husband's side.
Seeing Fugaku's condition, her worry was immediate and personal. "I brought him. As the son of the Uchiha clan head… he will bear this duty."
"Do not fear," Fugaku said, his voice gruff but infused with clan pride. "The so-called 'curse' of a jinchuriki… it holds no power over the Uchiha."
He turned his bleeding gaze to Akira. "Akira… it's in your hands."
Mikoto carried Sasuke to a spot near the Nine-Tails clone held by Fugaku's genjutsu, laying the infant carefully on a flat, cleared stone.
Akira nodded, his hands already moving through a fluid sequence of seals as he approached. By the time he stood over the sleeping Sasuke, the final seal was formed—the distinct pattern for the Eight Trigrams Seal. Witnessing Minato's work had been the final key; the theoretical knowledge he possessed from his studies and Kushina's notes had crystallized into practical mastery.
"Four Symbols Seal: Expansion."
Intricate black sealing formulae spilled from his feet, racing across the ground and crawling up the immobilized form of the fox clone like living ink. In seconds, the beast was encased in a lattice of dark energy.
Akira's hands shifted again. "Containment."
The network of seals pulsed and contracted, wrapping the clone entirely in a sphere of absolute black, roughly thirty meters across. Within its inky depths, a malevolent red light churned.
"Compression."
As Akira maintained the seals, the sphere began to shrink. It floated away from the ground, diminishing as it drew closer to the infant Sasuke—from thirty meters, to ten, to the size of a large boulder, and finally, hovering directly above the child, it was a dense, fist-sized orb of darkness streaked with crimson.
"Seal."
The orb descended. A flash of red light illuminated Sasuke's tiny form as the sphere sank into his abdomen. On his skin, the spiral pattern of the Eight Trigrams Seal flared brilliantly, then faded, sinking beneath the surface until no trace remained.
It was done.
A collective, held breath was released. Fugaku and Mikoto, who had watched the entire process with hearts in their throats, relaxed marginally. Mikoto hurried forward, gathering her now-fussing son into her arms, rocking him gently with a mother's soothing touch.
Hiruzen let out a long, slow exhale of relief. The sealing had been successful. With Akira's demonstrated skill, the integrity of the seal on the Uchiha heir seemed assured, at least for the foreseeable future.
One threat was contained. The atmosphere lightened, if only by a fraction.
It was some time later when Jiraiya finally returned, accompanied by Uzumaki Rika. The woman held her own daughter, four-month-old Karin, clutched tightly to her chest. Her eyes were red-rimmed; the persuasion had clearly been difficult.
Rika gave a shallow, respectful bow. "Lord Third Hokage."
Hiruzen's expression was one of weary apology. "You have my deepest regrets for what we must ask of you and your child."
"I only hope," Rika whispered, her voice trembling, "that Konoha will be kind to Karin in the years to come. That is all I ask."
She understood the burden. The life of a jinchuriki, even one housing a fragment, was never simple or safe.
"You have my word," Hiruzen said, his tone solemn. "The child's identity will be guarded with the highest secrecy. She will be told only when she is old enough to understand and wield the power within her."
"Thank you," Rika murmured, the words barely audible.
The second sealing proceeded without incident. Under Akira's guided hands, the remaining clone was compressed, drawn down, and sealed within the infant Karin. Another flash of light, another fading spiral. The second fragment was secured.
The battlefield, at last, fell into a true, exhausted silence.
Hiruzen gathered the small group—Jiraiya, the two Uchiha couples, Akira, and Rika—with a grave look. "What transpired here tonight, the identities of these children, must remain within this circle. Our enemies, particularly the ones we faced tonight, may very well be seeking the power of the tailed beasts. A single leak could paint a target on their backs."
"The Uchiha understand discretion," Fugaku stated, his voice firm despite his fatigue. "Our clan's secrets are our own. This will be no different."
"I trust in that," Hiruzen acknowledged, the political tension momentarily set aside in the face of a shared, vital secret.
With the immediate crisis past, Akira moved methodically, using smaller sealing scrolls to collect samples of the Nine-Tails' spilled blood and any remaining chakra-saturated tissue. Nothing of the beast's power would be left for scavengers or spies.
By the time the last of the Amaterasu flames were safely sealed away and the dawn's first grey light began to touch the horizon, the full scope of the devastation was laid bare. A tenth of Konoha lay in ruins. The Fourth Hokage and his wife were dead. Countless were injured. The village's strength was significantly, painfully diminished.
Returning to the Uchiha district in that cold, early morning light, Akira felt a profound sense of hollow frustration. He sat on the wooden steps of his porch, the adrenaline gone, leaving only weary contemplation.
After all that… is this really the outcome? he thought, the bitterness sharp. He hadn't acted to save Konoha out of blind loyalty, but he had hoped to alter the trajectory of certain key events. Yet here they were: Minato and Kushina dead, Naruto and Sasuke as jinchuriki. The wheel of fate seemed to have rolled right back to its starting point, crushing his efforts beneath it.
A spark of cold resolve ignited in the gloom of his thoughts. But not everything is the same. Obito is severely wounded. He just achieved his greatest victory, killing his teacher. He'll be arrogant. Complacent. When you're at the peak of success… that's when you're most vulnerable.
The plan formed with crystalline clarity. He raised his hands, forming the familiar, complex seals of the Spiritual Transformation Technique, the S-rank secret he had claimed from the Scroll of Seals.
As his consciousness detached, expanding into a formless wave of perception, he cast his spiritual sense outward, across the mountains and rivers, seeking a specific, hateful chakra signature.
And there, far to the northeast, in the perpetually storm-wracked Land of Rain, he found it. A flickering, wounded, but unmistakable presence—Uchiha Obito, recovering in what he thought was perfect security.
Akira's spiritual form focused, a predator locking onto its prey.
(End of Chapter)
(End of Chapter)
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