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[ ONE ]

Inspired by CaffeineAddicted's book, 'All To Save Them'

Main character: Naruto

Warnings at the beginning of chapters.

Warnings : Gore, Swearing, Slightly Suicidal Thoughts, Description of decayed flesh,

If anything needs to be added, just say

-

[ ONE ]

"I can help you..."

..

..

".. please."

..

"It won't be easy, brat."

..

..

.

..

"I'll…. I-I'll do anything… please."

..

..

".... if you're sure. Now repeat after me."

..

...

-

    The waves crashed along broken shoreline, the air a salty tang of sea water and faded blood. Bones and debris scattered the once green grass and white marble, burns of unknown flames painted scorched houses and paths alike.

A soft energy hummed in the sky. It circled the island, encasing it in an everlasting sense of melancholy and tranquillity. And despite the absence of any known life form, the small broken island seemed alive.

It was what kept people away. The stillness of the earth and water, the viciousness of forever swirling tides and whirlpools, the lack of fresh water and clean food. All of it preventing anyone from entering and scavenging the ruins of the once proud city and taking what is not theirs.

The Uzumaki's were once the best sealmasters, after all. Known for many seals that are used on a day to day basis, introducing many subjects into seals, like Time and Space theory, and world renown for almost being unbeatable.

But the seals that covered every side of the island had been washed away, scratched at like angry wolves by the harsh seas of a grieving city, useless until refurbished. 

On land, there were few seals left. One, still active, that watered a small weeded garden patch, nearly hidden in the foot tall grass. Another, that spun a weaving wheel, getting slower as the days go on. And one more, long forgotten, hidden under a table, that stored weapons for an emergency, but never got to be used.

And in the middle of the island, where carts are pushed over, houses crushed into rubble, weeds and ivy infesting the cracks in the ground, there stood a statue. It was twelve feet in height, made of polished marble that still shone even after years of neglect. A golden plate marred the bottom, scratched out to never be read again.

And underneath this statue, hidden to never be seen, there was a seal. One of the Uzumaki's greatest inventions. One of Infinite possibilities and just as many dangers. And now, after years upon years of waiting, it activated.

Bones and rotted flesh and dried blood slowly, every so slowly, rumbled it's way to the statue. Some got clogged on bricks and wood, some got lost between cracks and dirt, but as they reached the statue, sliding over the last bits of mud and sticks, it climbed the marble pillar. It covered the statue, the bones clicking together, loud enough to break the silence, and creating a horrifying mock of a ribcage around the statue.

Some bones obviously weren't meant to go together, but they hooked and grabbed at each other like eager toddlers and sticky hands, chipping away at small pieces that would climb further up to join in with another group to fill in the gaps. The old rotted flesh, grey and weary and burnt and very little of it, stretched over the yellow bones, breaking apart only to sew itself onto another clump of skin, thin enough to see a vague figure underneath it.

The skin was not smooth. Every section had a different skin tone, from dark grey to a sickly almond white, to a bruised purple and charcoal red, and the textured ranged from lumpy to scratchy to smooth and charred. There was no rhyme or reason to the mass of old, dry skin, only that it needed to cover every single bone.

The blood come next, clotty, filthy, and hard, patiently rolling waves at the bottom of the mound, waiting for the flesh to stop vibrating. And only then did it begin it's trek to the top, where both bones and flesh had not touched.

Along its journey, rocks and splinters fell, hitting the ground with tiny pitters. Clott smoothed out, turning into a liquid smooth substance, and as it neared the top, where the sunlight hit, it started to bubble with heat. The flesh sizzles underneath, but it soon calmed down as the first drop of blood reached the top and fell into the hole.

Soon the rest followed, and in the silence of the slow breeze and smooth waves, something broke.

-

   Not all villains are cruel. Some are villains of circumstance, like a kind heart being wasted on a person who'd rather you kill your best friend than kill yourself. Some are told false ideals, some do it for religion, some simply can't feel enough emotions to express guilt.

All of those people, villains of circumstances, they all have the option to be good. Have the option to turn back and realised what they did was wrong. To confess to their sins and face the results of their actions.

Real villains are not that common.

Real villains are those who hurt others for fun. Psychopaths, or not, they are the type who'd laugh as they raise a knife, or whip, or anything, and bring it down into supple flesh. They're the type to know their own strength but still hit hard enough to hurt. They're the type to take and take but apologise for never giving anything in return, only to take more.

Real villains aren't that easy to find and some would believe. In fact, some of the nicest people are the real villains of the world.

Orochimaru. Zabuza. Deidara. All those and others aren't… real villains. They were cruel, yes. Selfish. But they all expressed kindness in one way or another.

Orochimaru is undoubtedly one of the strongest Sannin. Not in strength, no. That title belonged to Tsunade. But he was smart, cunning, always three steps ahead. He had modified his body in inhumane ways, and had an apprentice that almost rivaled his strength. And yet, every time he come face to face with Jiraiya, Tsunade, Kakashi, or anyone else that didn't meet his level of skill, he was always the one that ran away.

And that was not because he was weak, because Orochimaru was anything but that. But it was simply because Orochimaru didn't kill without reason. 

A lot of people died for his experiments, a lot of adults and children alike. They were kept in crowded cells, stuck in their own urine and faeces, with abnormalities from experiment after experiment.. But that's just it. They were for his experiments. Other people he comes across, people who have some level of skill, are either taken in and trained to survive, or ignored, forgotten..

It wasn't needless killing, and the people who were in pain from experiments weren't kept alive because Orochimaru found happiness in their suffering, but because the Snake Sannin wanted to see exactly what the experiment would result in. 

And if it didn't work, the test subject was mercifully killed with a clean slice to the throat.

And that was the difference between a villain of consequence and a villain

A Villain like Kakuzu. Like Itachi. Like Gato. Like Madara.

Madara.

One of the worst villains in existence. Almost a villain of consequence, but not quite. The death of a relative, a brother, four younger brothers, would affect anybody. It just so happens that Madara took that pain, took it and squashed it into a ball of infesting hatred that grew and grew with every breath before it erupted one day. And for that hatred, his very best friend, dead by his hands, and him, Madara, scorned and shunned from the village they worked so hard to build.

For the loss of his brother, Madara wanted to take away Hashirama's. For the scorn of his village, Madara scorned them back. For the commitment of his clan, Madara abandoned them. And he did so with a passion in his heart and a smile on his face.

It's much easier to hate than to love, and for seventy years Madara held onto a festering hatred, until the day he presumably died, and even after he was resurrected. And with a grin pulling at his lips, he ended both the war and world, killing both allies and enemies, until only a handful of humans were left. 

Tsunade. Gaara. Sasuke. Kakashi. Obito. Han. Zetsu. All dead. All plans failed and foiled. Buried six feet under or burnt to a crisp.

And all the while, he kept Naruto alive to watch it.

A cruel fate for the once prophesied hero, brought on by a cruel man with an even crueler plan.

And Naruto was kept alive for a long, long time. Brought with his hands tied, his legs broken, his mouth gagged but his eyes pulled open, Naruto was made to sit by Madara's side as time and time again, his friends were slaughtered. Killed for their attempts at saving him, killed for opposing Madara, killed for simply existing.

The first was Tsunade. Strong to a fault, with a will to match, but useless against a legend like Madara Uchiha. Beheaded within three seconds, strung up like a puppet in five more, and the head being delivered to Konoha's doorstep in six. A warning, a sign, to surrender.

Next was Kakashi, who was loyal to a fault despite his empathy, animal instinct ingrained into him from birth of packpackpack and the need to save. He didn't last two second, despite his new Kamui ability. Eyes pulled out, jaw ripped off of his face, stomach sliced open and hands missing. 

Everything was burnt but the Konoha headband, which was taken and tied tightly around Naruto neck without a second thought. A memorial, a mockery, a joke of what he couldn't stop.

Then it was Sakura and Gaara, closely followed by Fuu, Han, Karin, and many more. All fighting to save Naruto, all fighting for freedom, all fighting to escape the everlasting sorrow and fear they were stuck in.

Some of the last people to die, funnily enough, were all those who had tried to kill Naruto in the past. Quite a bit of people, but still.

Sasuke. Obito. Itachi. Kabuto. Kakuzu. Zetsu. All left until the very end. All believing they were safe from Madara's hatred. All bewildered when Madara blew up the cave they inhabited.

They didn't last long either.

Itachi was already on the brink of death, hacking up his lungs every other hour. The only reason he was still alive was because Kabuto was there, monitoring the illness and countering it as best he could, despite it being a futile effort.

Sasuke could have been a challenge, but in regards of fighting one of his last living relatives, it was a one-sided fight. Obito died with the flick of Madara's wrist, the seal over his already strained heart activated, crushing the organ.

Kakuzu, Danzo, Kabuto, and many others. Gone in barely a minute. Disintegrated into nothing but dust, or sealed away.

Some of the strongest people alive. Plummeted underground with the rest of the population.

It was… eye opening, for everyone.

And at once, rescue attempts stopped. For both Naruto and for many other people that were captured. Sai. Temari. Gai. Darui.

It was the tipping point. The part where people realised just how futile it was and gave up. And they either hid in fear or slit their own wrists.

It was the point where Naruto gave up.

Up until that point, it had been Kurama that help him together. The one that consoled him as his friends and sensei were slaughtered in front of his eyes. His support when the person he trusted, Sasuke, stood behind Madara and watched as Naruto got his ankles crushed, got the ligaments in his legs torn out, faster and more brutal every time it healed.

Kurama was the only one that would help with the dwindling sanity, speaking even though he was locked behind bars, straining to make himself known even when Naruto couldn't hear himself think.

And when the last of his friends died, when Kurama became the last one of Naruto's precious people…

He gave up.

Kakashi-sensei. Gone. Sakura. Gone. Tsunade-baa-chan. Gone. Jiraiya. Gone.

Sasuke. Gone.

What more was there for Naruto to do? There was no one left, no one outside of the dusty cave he was captive in, nothing to live for except the giant chakra beast locked in his stomach. And even then, with every wound Naruto got, with every bruise or scratch or stab, he stole a small bit of Kurama's chakra. Day after day. Week after week. And very quickly, year after year.

Kurama was locked in the seal, after all. Locked with an irreversible seal that'd only unlock once Naruto is either dead, or unlocks it himself. And since Kurama was locked inside, he was locked from the outside, where the nature chakra that fueled his very being was. And with no supply, the only chakra he had left was… very little.

He was a chakra beast, meant to be unbeatable due to the sheer amount of expandable chakra he had. Always taking from the world around him, never running out, always replenishing. Each Bijuu Chakra Ball took about a fifth of his chakra, and Kurama could do about twenty-four of them in a single hour, his chakra, his essence,  regenerating almost as fast as it's spent.

But with no chakra being transported through the seal to Kurama, he was slowly drying out. His energy was spent healing Naruto's wounds almost 24/7, and the rest was either spend consoling the blond or sleeping when the Uzumaki finally shut his eyes.

It was a long, gruelling process, and by the time four years had passed, there was only a small handful of chakra left in the once mighty being.

Naruto had fallen silent by then.

No sound, no thought, but only regret from the blond. He firmly ignored the deep, measuring rumble that echoed through his mind, the voice that lulled him into a rare, peaceful sleep.

Naruto only regret. Because it was his fault that the Kyuubi, the once thought invincible being, his friend, was dying.

After all, you shouldn't bite the hand that feeds you, but Naruto did just that and just had to go and spit on the graves of his ancestors while he was at it.

It had made sense, after all. Rile up Madara, make him tired and weak, constantly on his guard, so that when his friends come to save him, it would be surprising enough that Madara would falter, and they would win-

Well. That was what he thought before Tsunade-baa-chan was beheaded. And nothing, no crying, no screaming, no shouting, would bring her back to life.

It was a… revelation, indeed.

And now, years later, Naruto had just given up. Accepted his fate. Because by all Kami, Madara wasn't dying soon. There weren't enough humans left on earth to kill him, even if they had the guts to try. Madara was, is, invincible, tied down by the Edo Tensei, and now, age doesn't matter, because he would live forever, roaming on the lonely land, forever killing off humans, people, until no one remained.

And with that in mind, Naruto felt tired. An everlasting life of torture and suffering. Heh. What a shitty way to go.

For a while, it seemed like the end. Life turned into a monotonous routine. Wake up. Eat what little was given to him. Endure as Madara tried again and again to drag the Kyuubi from the depth of his seal. Then Naruto is housed on the Uchiha's shoulder and dragged halfway across the elemental nation for one reason or another. Then he got to watch as someone died or got to rest as Madara searched the area. Then it was back to the cave, where Naruto would try to sleep for the next day.

Rinse and repeat, day after day, week after week.

Nothing spared him from the boredom, from the slipping edges of his sanity, of the blood that covered the floor and his hands even though he was sure it wasn't there a few minutes ago-

And maybe that was why Kurama presented an alternative. A risky, foolish, and downright impossible plan, made on basic knowledge and vague memories.

And yet, despite himself, Naruto listened to the plan and for the first time in a long while, he hoped.

-

   The mound of bones, blood and flesh slowly broke away, rotting with every second that passed, and vaguely letting sunlight seep into the once covered cavern.

The sun was high, just reaching mid-noon. The sea was active with life, fish slowly swimming towards the rundown island. Trees seemed to perk up, flowers turning to the sun. 

The last pieces of the fleshy shield fell way, and where once stood a statue made of marble and care, now lay a small child, curled up and naked, the light blue glow of the seal below them.

And at once, Uzushiogakure came to life.

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