"How in the world do you have the Kyuubi's chakra?!"
Elder Takahiro's outburst rang through the hall, his voice carrying an urgency that sent an uneasy ripple through the air.
Silence followed—heavy, suffocating.
The words "Kyuubi's chakra" lingered, hanging over them like a blade poised to drop.
In his fervor, Takahiro had spat mid-sentence, and Akai, with the reflexes of a man long accustomed to nonsense, raised his sleeve to block it. His face twisted in mild disgust.
"Urk."
Hiashi and Genzou's expressions darkened, their gazes sharpening.
The mention of the Kyuubi struck them like a cold shock to the spine. Their minds raced, piecing together implications far beyond what had just been said.
But before they could act, Akai's voice sliced through the tension.
"Hah?! That's your best guess?!" His disbelief was tangible, brows furrowed in sheer irritation.
Takahiro didn't waver. "Then what is it?!"
Akai stilled. His lips parted slightly, his eyes unblinking.
Would it be a great idea to tell them the truth?
…No. No, it absolutely wouldn't.
So, he did what any reasonable person would do.
He bullshitted.
"A super awesome Kekkei Genkai I just awakened," he declared, brimming with the confidence of a man who had just made it up on the spot.
Takahiro scoffed, unimpressed. "That red chakra did not come from your other eye, you brat. I have the Byakugan too. Spare me the excuses."
Damn. Okay. Plan B.
"The Sage of the Six Paths came to me in a dream and—"
"Enough nonsense!"
Alright. Plan C.
"I was bitten by a radioactive pigeon and—"
A sharp thwack landed on his head.
"Stop joking, you brat!" Takahiro barked.
Akai clicked his tongue, rubbing the sore spot. "Fine. Kyuubi chakra it is, then," he muttered, exasperated. He wasn't about to explain cursed energy—not only would they dismiss it outright, but he'd probably sound insane in the process.
Takahiro, however, looked vindicated. His expression sharpened, eyes glinting with newfound determination.
"I knew it!" His voice boomed with triumph. "Now—how did you obtain it? How are you controlling it?!"
Akai sighed. "I don't know."
"Since when did you have it?!"
"I. Don't. Know."
"What were you doing yesterday?!"
"I—don't—know!"
Takahiro's patience snapped. His hands clamped down on Akai's shoulders, and the next thing Akai knew—
He was being shaken.
Violently.
"Stop playing dumb with me, boy!"
The interrogation rapidly devolved into something… absurd.
Hiashi and Genzou, who had been watching intently, now found themselves staring at a completely different scene. Akai's head bobbed back and forth like a ragdoll, his body flailing under Takahiro's relentless shaking. His face twisted between blurry expressions—shock, mild discomfort, and sheer irritation.
Even Takahiro seemed to lose the plot, as if he was shaking Akai more out of frustration than anything else.
Finally, Akai snapped. "Enough! I just met the Third Hokage and some kid while fishing, alright?!"
The shaking stopped.
Instantly.
Takahiro's grip slackened. His face darkened, the weight of something unspoken settling into the lines of his expression.
"Boy?" His voice was low, searching. "Describe him. What did he look like?"
Akai blinked.
"Was he blonde? Blue-eyed?" Takahiro pressed, his tone sharpening. "More importantly—did he have whisker-like marks on his face!?"
Akai stiffened.
What the hell was up with this guy?
Why did he suddenly look so alarmed?
More importantly—hadn't Akai just mentioned meeting the Third Hokage? Shouldn't Takahiro be throwing a fit right now? Something like:
"What?! Did you conduct yourself properly in front of him?! I won't let you sully the Hyuga name any further!"
Yet, not a single reprimand came.
Instead, Takahiro looked shaken.
Something was wrong.
Then—like a switch flipping—an old memory surfaced. Fragments of whispered conversations, hushed voices from Hyuga servants when they thought no one was listening.
"That demon spawn—""The fox kid—"
It never made sense to him before. Just pointless gossip. But now…
Kyuubi?
Akai knew nothing about it. Not really. But he knew one thing for sure—Takahiro's reaction wasn't normal.
His gut twisted.
His instincts—the very instincts that had kept him alive for four years in a house full of people who barely tolerated him—were screaming.
If he said "yes"… this would turn into a disaster.
Akai hesitated, carefully weighing his options.
This much was obvious—Naruto was connected to the Kyuubi.
The same Kyuubi that had torn through Konoha all those years ago. The same monster that had left behind smoldering ruins and stolen countless lives.
And the Third Hokage… what were the chances that his presence at the river had been mere coincidence?
No. There was more to this. More than what was being said. More than what had been allowed to be known.
But right now, Akai had to decide—was he really the one who wanted to dig it up?
More importantly…
He let out a slow breath, meeting Takahiro's expectant, razor-sharp gaze.
"He's just a normal-looking boy."
A lie. For Naruto's sake.
But the moment the words left his lips, his mind spun with the absurd temptation to just—spill everything.
"Actually..."
"itsacompletelydifferentenergyfromchakrasomethingivebeenexperimentingwithforquitesometimenowi'vetakentocallingitcursedenergyatfirstithoughtiwas theonlyonewhocouldseethethingsitcreatesthesegrotesquetwistedcreatureslurkingintheshadowsclingingtopeoplelikeparasitesbutafterenoughstudyirealizedtheywerentjusthallucinationsthey'rerealcursedspiritsandspeakingofwhichthere'sonehoveringoveryournowpressingitsflyheadedfaceagainstyoursdraggingitslongpurpletongueacrossyourcheeklikeitactuallyenjoysthetastedisgustingright-"
Translation: It's a completely different energy from chakra, something I've been experimenting with for quite some time now. I've taken to calling it Cursed Energy. At first, I thought I was the only one who could see the things it creates—these grotesque, twisted creatures lurking in the shadows, clinging to people like parasites. But after enough study, I realized they weren't just hallucinations. They're real. Cursed Spirits. And speaking of which—there's one hovering over you right now, pressing its fly-headed face against yours, dragging its long, purple tongue across your cheek like it actually enjoys the taste. Disgusting, right?
His mouth had moved faster than his brain, words tumbling out in an uncontrollable avalanche. He barely took a breath—let alone let Takahiro process any of it—before it all came crashing to an abrupt halt.
THWACK.
A firm hand smacked him upside the head.
Akai blinked. His brain rebooted.
Well.
So much for telling the truth. I feel like I should apologize to Naruto later.
Thus, Akai stated.
.
.
.
The afternoon sun poured through the paper screens, its warm glow failing to dissolve the tension thickening the air. The room was steeped in silence, broken only by the faint crackle of burning incense, its scent doing little to calm the unease lingering in the wake of what they had just witnessed.
Neji had been carried away. Akai had been dismissed. Yet, the weight of their presence remained, etched into the expressions of the men seated around the low wooden table.
It was Genzou who finally spoke, his voice steady, deliberate.
"That vile chakra—there is no mistake. It was the Kyuubi's."
The words landed with the force of a hammer, heavy and irrefutable. He let them linger before pressing on.
"We cannot allow him to use it again. It must be sealed, suppressed—immediately."
Takahiro scoffed, his arms folding across his chest. "And how exactly do you intend to do that?" His voice carried a sharp undertone, irritation flickering beneath his otherwise calm demeanor.
Genzou did not waver. "We hold him back a year. Delay his academy enrollment until we are certain the Kyuubi's chakra has faded completely."
Takahiro's eyes darkened. "You think barring him from the academy will erase that power?" His words dripped with skepticism. "Ridiculous. Stifling him will do nothing but hinder his progress. He'd be a year older than his peers and If anything, it will only make him more unpredictable."
Genzou's gaze was cold, unwavering. "That boy does not even fight like a Hyuga."
A sharp crack rang through the room as Takahiro's palm struck the table.
"And what, exactly, does that have to do with his enrollment?" His voice, now edged with barely restrained frustration, sliced through the tension like a blade.
The room fell into an uneasy stillness.
Then—
"Enough."
Hiashi's voice was not loud, but it commanded absolute attention.
His gaze settled first on Genzou. "You were the one who urged me to take him in as a branch member," he stated, his tone unreadable. "I gave him my word that he would be treated the same as any other Hyuga—trained, disciplined, given equal opportunity. I will not break that promise."
Genzou remained expressionless, but he did not protest.
Hiashi then turned to Takahiro. "That being said, we cannot ignore what we have seen. The Kyuubi's chakra—whether real or not—demands investigation. His abilities must be understood and contained before they become a liability."
The finality in his words left no room for argument.
The discussion was over.
But the problem had only just begun.
Meanwhile...
The moment Akai stepped outside, a deep sigh escaped his lips. Finally.
The interrogation had felt like an endless loop of the same accusations, the same demands, all over something that didn't even concern him.
Kyubi's chakra? What nonsense. It wasn't like he could just stop using cursed energy. Not that he would, anyway—it was too useful. Too convenient.
And, more importantly, too interesting.
His mind drifted as he wandered through the compound. Maybe he should test some new concepts. Dual subtraction? Addition-based applications? He had already experimented with passive subtraction—what if he applied it more aggressively? The thought stirred a quiet excitement in him.
But first, he had something to do.
His feet carried him toward the compound's entrance.
Naruto.
He still owed him an apology—or something like it. A vague sense of obligation nagged at him, though he wasn't sure why. Maybe because he'd promised him dango.
That was enough of a reason, he supposed.
As he walked, something felt… off.
The usual stares, the scowls, the silent disdain—they weren't there.
At first, it was subtle. A few lingering glances, but they lacked the usual bite of contempt. A passing servant gave a quick nod—not friendly, but not outright hostile either.
Then, another one murmured a quiet, "Akai-sama," before scurrying past.
His steps faltered slightly.
…Huh?
He blinked as an elderly woman sweeping the walkway briefly looked up. Instead of the usual dismissive glance, she gave him a small bow before returning to her task.
Further ahead, a middle-aged servant stopped mid-step as Akai passed. There was a moment's hesitation before the man dipped his head slightly.
"Good afternoon, young lor—" He caught himself. "Akai-sama."
Akai slowed.
Young lord?
Was he about to say young lord?
His brow furrowed. No, that title was wrong. It implied inheritance—something he neither had nor wanted. Young master, maybe. But lord? That was absurd. The only one who deserved that title was the clan head.
And yet…
There was a chef who'd called him that earlier this morning. But he wasn't a Hyuga. That shouldn't have counted.
Then, it clicked.
These were the ones he had stopped earlier. The ones he had told to kneel. The ones whose curses he had either crushed or devoured.
"I don't know why, but my routine fatigue disappeared when Akai-sama tapped my head. He called it a 'super awesome one-tap massage'—can you believe that?"
A hushed voice, feminine.
Akai's lips pressed together as the realization settled.
Ah. That was the one who actually asked what he did instead of standing around like a stunned fish.
He exhaled through his nose and kept walking.
Not like he'd explain what a cursed spirit was. So, he gave that lame excuse.
Strange, but whatever. If they wanted to be nice to him now, fine. It didn't change anything.
Dango first.
Experiments later.
At the corner of an intersection, Akai nearly collided with someone.
He stopped just in time, blinking at the figure in front of him.
Hinata.
She looked startled, her pale eyes widening before she quickly stepped back and lowered her head. "G-Good afternoon!"
Akai tilted his head, processing the greeting with vague disinterest. There was an awkward pause before he muttered a half-hearted, "Yeah, afternoon."
Silence.
Thick. Painfully awkward.
At least, for her.
Akai, as always, remained indifferent. He simply waited, expecting her to step aside so he could continue on his way. But she didn't.
She lingered.
Fidgeting.
She wants to say something.
Akai could tell.
He could also tell that whatever it was, she was struggling to push it out.
He sighed internally. Just spit it out already.
Finally, her fingers curled slightly, a flicker of resolve tightening her shoulders.
"U-Um…" Her voice was soft, hesitant. "Will you… be joining morning practice regularly from now on?"
Akai paused.
The question caught him off guard.
Why does she care?
For the first time, he turned to face her fully, his crimson eye scanning her with quiet confusion. He didn't answer right away, nor did he react. Just… watched her.
Then, without warning, he stepped forward.
Hinata stiffened.
Akai's hand shot up.
Her breath caught—but the touch was gentle.
Warm.
His palm rested atop her head, firm yet surprisingly light.
"Cute."
Hinata's heart skipped.
It was… nice?
No one had ever done this to her before. Not Neji. Not her father. Never.
She had always wished for warmth like this from Neji-nii-san, but ever since he was marked, all she received was quiet resentment.
But...
If anyone truly understood Akai…
They'd be screaming at her— "DON'T BE FOOLED, HINATA-SAMA!"
Because from Akai's perspective, his hand wasn't resting on her head out of affection.
Something was clinging to her scalp.
A wriggling, humanoid curse with an oversized, insectoid head. Its fly-like compound eyes twitched erratically, reflecting sheer, unfiltered panic.
Akai's fingers closed around it.
It struggled—tiny limbs thrashing, wings buzzing in frantic protest.
By normal human logic, it might have been considered cute. Bulging eyes, small face—an odd, grotesque charm.
But Akai's logic?
"How cute."
His voice was soft, almost fond.
Hinata's face turned red.
The cursed spirit, however?
It was terrified.
Because when it looked down, it saw—
White fangs. Sharp, bared. A slow drip of saliva as Akai's lips parted, his crimson eye gleaming with unnatural hunger.
The spirit convulsed violently, its buzzing turning frantic.
Akai squeezed.
Its tiny body twitched.
Again, he murmured—slower this time, deliberate.
"Very cute indeed."
Pure, undiluted killing intent poured from him.
The cursed spirit spasmed, as if screaming.
Hinata, oblivious, hesitated before nervously shifting the topic.
"U-Um…" She fidgeted. "C-Can I… call you Akai-Nii-san?"
Akai blinked, his attention momentarily snapping back to her.
For a moment, he simply stared.
Then, with a casual tilt of his head, he replied, "Sure."
Hinata's lips parted slightly, surprised.
Akai stretched lazily, stuffing his free hand into his sleeve.
"Oh, also—yeah. Elder Takahiro's probably gonna start dragging me to morning practice tomorrow. What a drag huh?"
He smiled before He turned on his heel, walking away without another word.
Somewhere along the way, his fingers tightened.
The curse twitched one last time—then fell still.
CRUNCH
Akai popped it into his mouth.
.
.
.
To be continued.