Sasuke was quietly observing Naruto when the dark shadow at his side gave a warning.
"There are likely ANBU watching him. Be careful."
Ever since the Nine-Tails nearly lost control, Hiruzen Sarutobi had kept a tight leash on Naruto. Sasuke, however, didn't need to worry. From the outside, even the Uchiha massacre hadn't been enough to awaken his Sharingan. That kind of 'potential' wasn't worth the manpower for either Root or ANBU to monitor. Besides, Konoha was in the middle of turbulent times—who had the time or resources to keep an eye on the last Uchiha orphan?
Speaking of the Sharingan—no one else knew Sasuke had awakened the single tomoe form. But even that was just an illusion, a fake planted by the demon. Despite all his attempts, Sasuke hadn't been able to unlock any actual powers from it and had reluctantly given up.
Maybe he had already guessed the truth, but that didn't matter anymore. After his "friendly" exchanges with the demon, Sasuke had come to a sobering conclusion: No matter how much hatred he felt, it had to be buried deep. What mattered was accepting the demon's gift—calmly, coldly.
[Miasma of Decay: Inflicts all living beings with relentless withering and rot.]
This was Sasuke's new power—a curse capable of spreading widely, dealing damage proportional to the opponent's vitality.
"I'm probably the first Uchiha who doesn't rely on the Sharingan as his core strength," Sasuke thought with a trace of bitter humor. He glanced toward Naruto in the distance and, surprisingly, felt… at peace. Indra's influence had always loomed large over him. But he didn't want to end up like that version of himself in the manga.
...
While Sasuke watched from the shadows, Naruto went to school, slept through class, and trudged home alone. The villagers still treated him with coldness, even more so since the Nine-Tails incident.
Hiruzen had worked hard to suppress the growing rumors. And as the Hokage, he had the power to do it. He couldn't erase the whispers completely, but he could keep them under control.
Sadly, it was Naruto's own mindset that had started to crack.
"He gets a pension, but still ends up eating expired food because no one's willing to sell him anything fresh," Sasuke thought grimly, recalling the manga. "Hard to believe this is happening in the so-called Village of the Will of Fire."
During the mission to rescue Gaara, Chiyo had once asked Sakura,
"Konoha has the Nine-Tails, and you're Tsunade's student—how do you not even know what a Tailed Beast is?"
Kakashi's reply: "In Konoha, the Nine-Tails is classified information."
Classified? Then why did it seem like everyone in the village knew Naruto was the demon fox? Sasuke had turned that question over in his mind a thousand times but could never make sense of it.
What baffled him even more was the Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi. In the manga, he was portrayed as a great and noble leader who gave everything for the village—a saint, almost. But Sasuke couldn't shake the feeling that something didn't add up. He couldn't explain it, but it lingered like a bad smell.
He'd asked the shadow about it once. The answer was simple:
"Just take Hiruzen at face value. No need to overanalyze or invent conspiracies."
That had caught Sasuke off guard. The shadow continued calmly:
"If a mosquito bites you, you light a coil and kill every mosquito in the room. Do you waste time figuring out which ones are 'good' or 'evil'?"
"Whether Hiruzen is good or bad doesn't matter. Just kill them all equally. Why waste energy on something so pointless?"
Sasuke blinked, stunned. Slowly, he began to grasp a sliver of the shadow's alien logic. To it, maybe all humans were just mosquitoes...
...
That evening, as school let out, Naruto passed by Ichiraku Ramen. He paused at the corner, staring longingly, clearly tempted—but something was holding him back.
Ichiraku was bustling with business. One after another, customers pushed aside the warm curtain and stepped inside.
"We've got new dishes on the menu! Want to give them a try? Everything's half off right now!" Ayame called cheerfully to the latest group of customers.
"Sure, why not." One of them glanced at the updated menu. In addition to new ramen flavors, there were wontons, soup dumplings, siu mai, and other snacks.
"I'll take the wontons."
"Coming right up!"
Everything seemed perfectly normal. A few minutes later, Ayame brought out a steaming bowl of wontons. The customer eagerly dug in.
"This filling… it doesn't taste like pork. What kind of meat is it?"
Ayame gave a sweet smile.
"It's our house specialty. Secret recipe!"
With that, the customer wisely dropped the matter.
Naruto, standing far away, could smell the fragrant wontons. Ayame spotted him and gave a friendly wave, inviting him over.
He remembered—Ayame and her father were some of the very few who had ever shown him genuine kindness. They'd even treated him to meals before. But this time, Naruto couldn't move his feet.
He was starving, craving that delicious food, but his instincts were screaming at him to turn back. Something deep inside warned him: if he stepped through that curtain, something bad would happen.
His thoughts and instincts warred with each other until, in the end, Naruto turned and ran without saying a word.
One of the customers saw the scene unfold and muttered,
"What a rude little brat."
"Don't worry about it. He's just a kid," Ayame said gently, changing the subject with ease.
She had sensed the ANBU monitoring the Jinchuriki.
...
Night fell. It was time for Sasuke to hunt.
Tonight's target was a chunin. Sasuke's combat instincts had sharpened significantly—he could now wield the Miasma of Decay with impressive control. The chunin didn't even have time to react. His body began to wither before Sasuke's eyes, youth draining into age, age into a shriveled husk, until nothing remained but dust. No DNA. No trace.
"With techniques like Edo Tensei blurring the line between life and death, you have to make sure the kill is absolute," Sasuke muttered coldly. He didn't know the soul had already been devoured. He just did what he could to erase all traces.
"So that's why you're using Itachi's face during your kills?"
"His name's already rotten. Might as well squeeze a bit more value out of it."
Sasuke was breaking.
All the resentment he bottled up under the shadow's thumb—he vented it on others. Spreading his misery. And honestly? It felt good. He finally understood: playing the good guy only brought pain and hesitation. But being the villain? That brought freedom. Sure, villains die ugly deaths—but they sure live freely.
"Anyone spreading lies about the Uchiha behind my back... I'll find them all. And I'll kill them. One by one," Sasuke said with a cruel grin.
He wasn't fully consumed by the darkness yet. He couldn't bring himself to kill indiscriminately.
But that wouldn't last forever.
Because once you step into hell… there's no turning back.
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Pls Drop some Power Stones
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