Three weeks had passed since the invasion.
Konoha was rebuilding. The village had suffered damage, but nothing compared to what would have happened without Roku's intervention. Morale was high. The Will of Fire burned brighter than ever.
And Roku was eating ramen.
"This is really good, Ayame-san!"
"I added extra pork just for you, Roku-kun!" Ayame beamed, leaning over the counter just a bit more than strictly necessary. "A hero deserves the best!"
"I'm not really a hero. I just helped out a little."
"You erased Orochimaru from existence."
"He was being mean!"
Ayame's eye twitched with affection.
How is he this humble? How is he this DENSE?
Sparky sat beside Roku in her human form, methodically consuming her own bowl of ramen with the precision of someone who had only recently learned what eating was.
"The sodium content of this dish is concerning," she observed. "Yet I find myself enjoying it."
"That's the magic of ramen!" Roku said happily.
"I do not believe magic is involved. Merely optimal seasoning ratios."
"That's a kind of magic!"
"...I cannot argue with that logic."
Across the village, at the main gate, two figures approached.
They wore black cloaks decorated with red clouds.
They moved with the confidence of apex predators.
And they were about to have the worst day of their immortal lives.
Itachi Uchiha had read the reports.
All of them.
Multiple times.
He had cross-referenced eyewitness accounts, analyzed chakra signature readings, and consulted with Zetsu's surveillance data.
None of it made sense.
"The target erased Orochimaru," Kisame said, his massive sword Samehada strapped to his back. "Completely. Even his backup bodies. That's not supposed to be possible."
"Many things about this target are not supposed to be possible."
"You worried?"
Itachi didn't answer immediately.
Was he worried?
He was Itachi Uchiha. He had slaughtered his entire clan in a single night. He possessed the Mangekyō Sharingan. He was one of the most dangerous ninja to ever live.
And yet...
"Concerned," he said finally. "Not worried. Concerned."
"What's the difference?"
"Worried implies fear. I am not afraid."
"Sure you're not."
"I am CONCERNED because the available data suggests this target operates outside normal parameters. Caution is advisable."
Kisame grinned, his shark-like teeth gleaming.
"I love it when you talk tactical. Makes me feel like we're about to do something stupid."
"We are. We're approaching someone who accidentally summons primordial entities."
"See? Stupid. My favorite kind of mission."
They found Roku at Ichiraku Ramen.
This was not difficult.
Roku was always at Ichiraku Ramen.
The two Akatsuki members stopped at the entrance to the small restaurant, their presence immediately drawing attention. Civilians fled. Shop owners closed their doors. The street emptied in seconds.
Only three people remained at the ramen stand.
Ayame, frozen behind the counter.
Sparky, whose lightning form was beginning to manifest around her human shell.
And Roku, who turned around with noodles still hanging from his mouth.
"Oh! Hello! Are you here for ramen too?"
Itachi stared.
He had prepared for many possible reactions.
Cheerful greeting was not among them.
"Roku Tanaka," he said, his voice carefully neutral. "We need to speak with you."
"Sure! Do you want to sit down? The pork ramen is really good today!"
"This is not a social visit."
"It could be! Social visits are nice!"
Kisame snorted. "Is this guy for real?"
"He is entirely real," Sparky said, her voice carrying dangerous undertones. "And you will address him with respect."
Kisame's eyes found the lightning goddess.
He recognized power when he saw it.
This woman—this BEING—radiated more chakra than most Tailed Beasts.
"Well, well," he said, his grin widening. "Looks like this might be interesting after all."
Itachi assessed the situation.
Two targets. One known (Roku), one unknown (the lightning woman). Civilian presence (Ayame). Urban environment. Multiple escape routes. Potential for collateral damage: extreme.
"We represent an organization called Akatsuki," he said. "We have questions about your abilities."
"Oh, okay! I'm not very good at explaining things, but I can try!"
"Your cooperation is... unexpected."
"Why wouldn't I cooperate? You seem nice!"
Itachi's eye twitched.
No one had ever called him "nice."
He had massacred his family.
He was a missing-nin with a kill count in the hundreds.
He was wearing a cloak that literally symbolized "dangerous criminal organization."
"Nice" was not a word that applied to him.
"I am not nice," he said flatly.
"You haven't attacked anyone yet! That's pretty nice!"
"I am considering attacking you."
"But you haven't! See? Nice!"
Kisame was losing his patience.
"Okay, enough of this. Itachi, let me just grab him and—"
He reached for Roku.
Three things happened simultaneously.
First, Sparky MOVED—a blur of lightning that would have vaporized Kisame's arm if he hadn't pulled back at the last possible instant.
Second, Ayame produced a knife from somewhere behind the counter and held it with the grip of someone who knew how to use it.
Third, Samehada—Kisame's legendary sword, the sentient blade that had been his partner for decades—made a sound.
Not a battle sound.
Not a hungry sound.
A whimper.
Kisame froze.
"Samehada? What's wrong?"
The sword shuddered on his back.
It had never done that before.
Ever.
"Samehada?!"
The blade's bandages began to unwrap on their own. Its scaled surface rippled. Its hidden mouth opened and closed rapidly.
And then, to Kisame's absolute horror, Samehada threw itself off his back.
The legendary blade—one of the Seven Swords of the Mist, an artifact of incredible power that chose its own wielder—flew through the air.
It soared over Itachi's head.
It passed Sparky without incident.
It completely ignored the defensive kunoichi.
And it landed at Roku's feet.
Then it began to purr.
"WHAT?!" Kisame screamed.
"Oh, hello there!" Roku said, looking down at the sword. "You're very pretty! All those scales are really cool!"
Samehada purred LOUDER.
"WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING?!"
"I think it likes me!"
"THAT'S MY SWORD! THAT'S BEEN MY SWORD FOR FIFTEEN YEARS!"
"Maybe it wants to be friends with both of us?"
"IT DOESN'T WORK THAT WAY!"
Samehada was having an experience.
It had tasted many chakras in its existence. Strong chakras. Unique chakras. The chakra of Tailed Beasts and legendary ninja.
All of them were NOTHING compared to what it was sensing now.
Roku's chakra was... infinite.
Not metaphorically. LITERALLY infinite. An endless well of energy that went deeper than Samehada could comprehend.
And it was DELICIOUS.
Not in a hungry way—in a "I never want to eat anything else ever again" way.
Samehada had found paradise.
It was never leaving.
"Samehada, get back here!" Kisame commanded.
The sword ignored him.
"SAMEHADA!"
It continued purring.
"I am your WIELDER!"
No response.
"We've been partners for DECADES!"
Still nothing.
Kisame's face contorted through several emotions—confusion, anger, betrayal, and finally, heartbreak.
"You're breaking up with me," he whispered. "My sword is breaking up with me."
"I'm sorry!" Roku said, looking genuinely distressed. "I didn't mean to steal your friend!"
"You didn't STEAL anything! It LEFT! On its own! TO BE WITH YOU!"
"That seems like a relationship problem, not a theft problem."
"IT'S DEFINITELY A THEFT PROBLEM!"
Itachi was reassessing the situation.
Original plan: Confront target, assess abilities, extract if possible.
Current situation: Kisame's legendary sword had defected. To the target. Who was apologizing about it.
This was not going according to plan.
"Perhaps," Itachi said carefully, "we should discuss this calmly."
"I'd like that!" Roku agreed.
"WITHOUT the sword drama."
"Sure! Um..." Roku looked down at Samehada. "Could you maybe go back to your friend? He seems really sad."
Samehada made a noise that clearly meant "absolutely not."
"Please?"
Another "no" noise.
"I'll give you treats?"
Samehada paused.
Then made a "what kind of treats" noise.
"I don't know! What do swords eat?"
"CHAKRA!" Kisame shouted. "THEY EAT CHAKRA! WHICH I'VE BEEN FEEDING IT FOR FIFTEEN YEARS!"
"Oh! I can do that!"
Roku channeled some chakra into his hand and offered it to Samehada.
The sword LUNGED at the offering.
And froze.
Not because it was stopped.
Because it was OVERWHELMED.
The small amount of chakra Roku had offered was more than Kisame produced in a year.
More than most VILLAGES produced in a year.
Samehada began vibrating with what could only be described as ecstasy.
"Is it okay?" Roku asked, concerned.
"It is having a spiritual experience," Sparky observed dryly. "Your chakra has that effect."
"On swords?"
"On everything."
Kisame watched his beloved weapon have what appeared to be a religious awakening at another man's feet.
"I need a minute," he said.
He walked to a nearby wall.
He put his head against it.
He stayed there.
Itachi understood completely.
"So," Roku said, turning back to Itachi. "What did you want to talk about?"
Itachi took a moment to compose himself.
"We wanted to understand your abilities. You've displayed power that defies explanation."
"Oh, that's just because I'm really bad at chakra control! Whenever I try to do something, something else happens instead!"
"You erased Orochimaru from existence by accident?"
"No, that was on purpose! He was hurting my friends!"
"And the Ten-Tails?"
"Jūbi? We're friends! They're really nice once you get to know them!"
"The Ten-Tails. The progenitor of all chakra. Is 'nice.'"
"Very nice! A little lonely, but nice!"
Itachi processed this.
Then he made a decision.
"I need to test something," he said.
"Test what?"
"Your reaction to genjutsu."
Before Roku could respond, Itachi's eyes transformed.
The Mangekyō Sharingan spun to life—three tomoe becoming a complex geometric pattern.
And Itachi cast Tsukuyomi.
Tsukuyomi was Itachi's ultimate genjutsu.
Within its realm, he controlled everything—time, space, perception. Three days of torture could be inflicted in a single second. The victim's mind would be shattered, their will broken, their sanity destroyed.
No one had ever resisted it.
No one had ever OVERCOME it.
And Roku...
Roku found himself in a strange place.
Red sky.
Red moon.
Black ground.
And Itachi standing before him, looking surprised.
"Oh, is this a genjutsu?" Roku asked. "It's very pretty!"
Itachi stared.
"You... you're not affected."
"Affected by what?"
"The Tsukuyomi. You should be experiencing unimaginable torment. You should be losing your mind."
"But I feel fine! A little confused, but fine!"
Itachi's expression flickered.
"That's... that's not possible."
"Maybe the jutsu is just showing me a nice place? It IS nice, in a creepy kind of way."
"This is supposed to be HELL. I control EVERYTHING here!"
"Really? Can you make a puppy?"
"WHAT?!"
"A puppy! I like puppies!"
Despite himself, despite every instinct screaming that this was wrong, Itachi found a puppy materializing nearby.
It was small.
It was fluffy.
It wagged its tail at Roku.
"SEE! A puppy! That's nice!"
Itachi's eye twitched.
He was in his ultimate genjutsu.
His realm of absolute control.
And he had just summoned a puppy because his victim asked nicely.
"This is not how this technique works," he said weakly.
"Maybe it works differently for different people?"
"IT DOESN'T!"
"Are you okay? You seem stressed."
Itachi was not okay.
Itachi was having an existential crisis.
Outside the genjutsu, exactly 0.001 seconds had passed.
But in that fraction of a moment, Sparky's eyes had narrowed.
"You are attempting to harm him with your mind," she observed.
Itachi didn't respond—he was still locked in his own technique.
"I do not appreciate that."
Lightning crackled.
"I will give you three seconds to release him. Then I will teach you what pain truly means."
Inside the Tsukuyomi, Roku was petting the imaginary puppy.
"Good boy! Who's a good boy!"
The puppy barked happily.
Itachi watched this scene with mounting disbelief.
"You've... you've completely subverted my technique."
"I didn't mean to! I just thought the puppy would be nice!"
"You're IMMUNE. Completely immune. The Tsukuyomi can't hurt you."
"That's good! Being hurt sounds bad!"
Itachi's Sharingan spun.
He tried to reassert control.
He tried to make the world painful, torturous, horrifying.
Nothing happened.
Well, not nothing.
The puppy got a friend—a small kitten that began playing with it.
"Aww! They're friends!"
"I DID NOT SUMMON THAT!"
"Maybe the genjutsu likes me?"
"GENJUTSU DON'T HAVE PREFERENCES!"
"This one might!"
Itachi made a decision.
He released the Tsukuyomi.
Not because he wanted to.
Because he had to.
If he stayed in that mental realm any longer, he was going to lose his mind.
Reality snapped back.
Sparky was mid-lunge, lightning condensing around her fist.
Itachi dodged—barely—the attack scorching his cloak.
"You are faster than expected," Sparky observed.
"And you are more protective than reported."
"I am ALWAYS protective of him. Always."
Kisame finally pulled himself away from the wall.
"Okay, I'm back. What did I miss?"
"Itachi's genjutsu didn't work," Roku reported cheerfully. "But I got to pet a puppy!"
"...In the genjutsu?"
"Yeah!"
Kisame looked at Itachi.
Itachi's expression was... complicated.
"So your ultimate technique failed?"
"It did not fail. It was... subverted."
"By puppies."
"Do not mention the puppies."
"There were PUPPIES in your torture dimension?"
"KISAME."
The situation had devolved from "confrontation" to "farce."
Itachi recognized this.
He also recognized that continuing this encounter would likely result in more absurdity.
"We're leaving," he announced.
"Already?" Roku asked. "But we just started talking!"
"We have learned enough."
"Oh. Okay! It was nice meeting you!"
Itachi paused.
Turned back.
"Nice?"
"Yeah! You have really cool eyes, and your friend has a really cool sword—well, HAD a really cool sword—"
"HEY!" Kisame protested.
"—and you seem like interesting people!"
Itachi stared at this man.
This impossible, oblivious, genuinely kind man who had broken his ultimate technique through sheer niceness.
"You are... strange," Itachi said finally.
"I get that a lot!"
"I mean it as a compliment."
"Oh! Thanks!"
Kisame approached Samehada, which was still vibrating contentedly at Roku's feet.
"Come on, buddy. We need to go."
Samehada made a "no" noise.
"Please?"
Still no.
"I'll get you extra chakra snacks!"
The sword seemed to consider this.
Then looked at Roku.
Then looked at Kisame.
Then very clearly communicated: "You cannot offer what he provides."
Kisame's heart broke a little more.
"Fine. FINE. Stay with your new best friend."
"I'm sorry!" Roku said. "I really didn't mean to steal your sword!"
"You know what? Keep it. You're obviously meant for each other."
"But—"
"No, I'm serious. Samehada chose you. That's how it works. The sword picks its wielder."
Kisame looked at his former partner one last time.
"Take care of yourself, buddy."
Samehada made a sad "goodbye" noise.
Then went right back to purring at Roku.
As they prepared to leave, Itachi paused one more time.
"A warning," he said.
"Warning?"
"Akatsuki has goals. Plans. Those plans required all the Tailed Beasts."
"The Tailed Beasts? But they're my friends!"
"I know. That's the warning."
Itachi's Sharingan locked with Roku's eyes.
"If anyone comes for them, they will be coming for you too. Be prepared."
"Are you going to come for them?"
"...I don't know anymore."
It was the most honest thing Itachi had said in years.
"I saw something in my own technique. Something I didn't expect."
"The puppies?"
"Not just that." Itachi's voice dropped. "I saw myself. My past. My choices. Things I had buried."
Roku's expression softened.
"That sounds hard."
"It was... clarifying."
"Clarifying how?"
Itachi didn't answer directly.
Instead, he said: "Perhaps we will meet again. Under different circumstances."
"I'd like that! We could have tea!"
"...Tea."
"I know a great tea shop!"
As the two Akatsuki members prepared to leave, something happened.
Something Itachi did not anticipate.
Something that would change everything.
His eyes burned.
Not painfully—differently.
The constant, slow deterioration that came with the Mangekyō Sharingan—the price of its power—REVERSED.
Just slightly.
Just enough to notice.
Itachi stopped walking.
"What?" Kisame asked. "What is it?"
"My eyes."
"What about them?"
"They're... healing."
"That's not possible. Mangekyō degeneration is permanent."
"I know."
Itachi turned back to look at Roku.
The young man was petting Samehada, talking to it like it was a beloved pet, completely unaware of what he had just done.
"He did something," Itachi said quietly. "In the Tsukuyomi. When he subverted my control. He FIXED something."
"Fixed what?"
"I don't know. But my eyes feel different. Better. For the first time in years."
Kisame stared at his partner.
Then at Roku.
Then back at Itachi.
"Are you saying that failed Academy student accidentally HEALED you?"
"I'm saying... I need time to process this."
They left.
Not defeated—not exactly.
But changed.
Both of them.
Itachi because his eyes were healing and his worldview was crumbling.
Kisame because his sword had abandoned him for a nicer owner.
As they disappeared into the distance, Kisame asked: "So what do we tell the others?"
"The truth."
"Which is?"
"That Roku Tanaka is not a target. He is an anomaly. An exception. Something outside our understanding."
"And the Tailed Beast plan?"
"Needs revision. Significant revision."
"Leader's not going to like that."
"Leader can deal with Roku personally if he disagrees."
Kisame laughed—a sharp, genuine laugh.
"I'd pay to see that. I'd pay a LOT to see that."
Back at Ichiraku Ramen, Roku was examining his new sword.
"So you eat chakra?"
Samehada made an affirmative noise.
"And you can get bigger when you eat more?"
Another affirmative.
"And you just... live on my back now?"
Enthusiastic agreement.
"That's kind of like having a backpack! A living backpack that eats energy!"
"It is a legendary weapon of immense power," Sparky observed. "Not a backpack."
"But it goes on my back! That's what backpacks do!"
"You are impossible."
"Thanks!"
Ayame finally emerged from behind the counter, where she had been clutching her knife throughout the encounter.
"Roku-kun, are you okay? Those were AKATSUKI members!"
"They seemed nice! A little stressed, but nice!"
"They're S-rank criminals!"
"They didn't hurt anyone!"
"They TRIED to!"
"But they didn't! So it's okay!"
Ayame's eye twitched.
She looked at Sparky.
Sparky shrugged.
"He is incapable of seeing the bad in people. It is both his greatest strength and most frustrating trait."
"How do you deal with it?"
"Constant vigilance and occasional screaming into the void."
"That sounds healthy."
"It is not. But it is necessary."
The news of the Akatsuki encounter spread quickly.
Within hours, every major figure in Konoha knew what had happened.
Itachi's Tsukuyomi, broken.
Kisame's sword, stolen (adopted?).
Two of Akatsuki's strongest members, sent packing without landing a single hit.
The Hokage called an emergency meeting.
"So," Hiruzen said, puffing on his pipe, "Roku has acquired Samehada."
"The sword defected," Kakashi confirmed. "I spoke with witnesses. It literally threw itself at him."
"And Itachi's genjutsu?"
"Broken. Completely. Roku apparently turned Tsukuyomi into a 'nice place with puppies.'"
"Puppies."
"Puppies."
Hiruzen considered this.
"I suppose I shouldn't be surprised."
"I've stopped being surprised. It's better for my mental health."
"And the sword—Roku can actually use it?"
Kakashi hesitated.
"I don't know. I've never seen him use a sword before."
"Has he had any training?"
"Not that I'm aware of. But with Roku..."
"Things happen."
"Exactly."
The next morning, Roku decided to practice with his new sword.
He went to the training grounds.
He drew Samehada from the bandages on his back.
He held it in what he THOUGHT was a proper stance.
And something inside him... awakened.
It started with muscle memory he didn't have.
His feet shifted into a stance—not any stance he had learned, but a perfect one. A stance that spoke of centuries of refinement.
His grip adjusted—not tightening or loosening, but OPTIMIZING. Finding the exact balance point.
His breathing changed—slowing, deepening, becoming rhythmic in a way that enhanced every movement.
And Samehada SANG.
Not metaphorically—the sword produced a sound. A resonance. A harmony that vibrated through Roku's entire being.
He swung.
Across the training ground, a boulder split in half.
Not shattered—SPLIT.
A clean, perfect cut through solid stone.
Roku blinked.
"Huh."
He swung again.
This time, the air itself seemed to divide. A visible line of force extended from the blade, continuing for twenty meters before dissipating.
"That's new."
Gai happened to be passing by.
He saw the boulder.
He saw the air distortion.
He saw Roku holding Samehada with the casual ease of a master.
"ROKU-KUN! YOUR FLAMES OF YOUTH HAVE AWAKENED A NEW PASSION!"
"Good morning, Gai-sensei! I'm just trying out my new sword!"
"Your TECHNIQUE! It is MAGNIFICENT! Who taught you such ELEGANT swordsmanship?!"
"No one? I just sort of... did it?"
Gai's eyes widened.
"You NATURALLY possess the skills of a blade master?!"
"I guess? It feels really natural!"
"THIS IS THE POWER OF YOUTH! PURE, UNADULTERATED YOUTH!"
Gai began crying.
This was normal.
Word spread.
Konoha's famous gossip network—faster than any intelligence apparatus—carried the news throughout the village.
The failed Academy student.
The man who couldn't do jutsu right.
The person who had befriended gods and erased snake men.
He was now, apparently, also a sword master.
The Konoha Eleven gathered to watch.
Naruto, Sasuke, Sakura, Shikamaru, Ino, Choji, Hinata, Kiba, Shino, Lee, and Neji—all of them standing at the edge of the training ground, observing Roku practice.
"He moves like water," Neji observed, his Byakugan active. "No wasted motion. No excess energy. Every movement is perfect."
"How is that possible?" Sakura asked. "He's never held a sword before yesterday!"
"With Roku? I've stopped asking 'how.'"
Lee was crying alongside his sensei.
"SUCH BEAUTY! SUCH GRACE! It is as if the sword was MADE for him!"
"It kind of chose him," Naruto pointed out. "Like, literally jumped at him."
"A DESTINED PARTNERSHIP! TRUE LOVE BETWEEN WARRIOR AND WEAPON!"
"That's... one way to describe it."
Roku continued practicing.
Each swing was more refined than the last.
Each technique came to him naturally, emerging from somewhere deep inside—knowledge he had never learned but somehow possessed.
Forms from Kiri's Seven Swordsmen.
Stances from ancient Samurai traditions.
Techniques that had been lost for generations.
All of it, flowing through him like water through a channel.
Samehada was having the time of its existence.
It had chosen many wielders over the centuries.
Strong wielders. Skilled wielders. Deadly wielders.
None of them had been like THIS.
When Roku channeled chakra through the blade, it wasn't just energy—it was INTENT. Pure, good, overwhelming intent. The desire to protect. The will to help. The fundamental kindness that defined everything Roku was.
Samehada had spent its existence consuming chakra.
Now, for the first time, it felt like chakra was GIVING it something back.
Three hours into the practice session, Roku accidentally created something new.
He had been trying to do a simple overhead strike.
Instead, he channeled chakra through Samehada at the moment of impact.
The result was... spectacular.
A wave of energy erupted from the blade—not destructive, but OVERWHELMING. It washed across the training ground like a tide, pressing against everything in its path.
Naruto was pushed back three steps.
Sasuke's Sharingan activated involuntarily.
Hinata's Byakugan flared to life.
Lee stopped crying and started vibrating with excitement.
And the trees—the trees closest to Roku—began to GROW.
Faster than should be possible.
Visibly larger.
As if the wave of energy had accelerated their natural processes by months.
"What was THAT?!" Naruto demanded.
Roku looked at his sword.
The sword looked back (metaphorically).
"I don't know! I was just trying to swing!"
"That was DEFINITELY not just swinging!"
"It felt right?"
Kakashi appeared in a blur of movement.
"Roku. What did you do?"
"I swung the sword!"
"And created a wave of life-accelerating energy that I felt from across the village?"
"Did I? I'm sorry!"
Kakashi looked at the enlarged trees.
He looked at the training ground, which now had patches of grass that had grown six inches in seconds.
He looked at his student.
"New rule."
"Yes, Kakashi-sensei?"
"No practicing with the sword inside the village."
"But—"
"OUTSIDE the village. Where your 'accidents' won't create botanical anomalies."
"That's fair."
In a hidden base far from Konoha, Akatsuki held an emergency meeting.
The holographic projections of all members flickered into existence around a central chamber.
Pain—the supposed leader—spoke first.
"Report."
Itachi's projection stepped forward.
"The target is beyond our capabilities."
Silence.
"Explain."
"My Tsukuyomi was completely subverted. The target was not affected by its effects—instead, he ALTERED the technique to create a pleasant environment."
"That is... unusual."
"There is more. Upon exit from the genjutsu, my eyes began healing. The Mangekyō degeneration—permanent and irreversible—has partially reversed."
More silence.
"You are saying the target accidentally healed your eyes?"
"I am saying that the target's presence CHANGED something fundamental about my technique, and the side effect was beneficial."
Kisame's projection spoke next.
"Samehada abandoned me. It chose him. Threw itself at his feet like a loyal dog."
"Samehada is one of the Seven Swords."
"I KNOW! It's been my partner for fifteen years! And it LEFT for a guy who feeds it treats and calls it a 'living backpack'!"
Deidara snickered.
"Your sword broke up with you, hmm?"
"SHUT UP!"
Pain processed this information.
The original plan had been to collect all nine Tailed Beasts, combine them into the Ten-Tails, and use that power to enforce peace upon the world.
But now...
The Ten-Tails was already manifested.
And it was Roku's FRIEND.
"The Ten-Tails situation," Pain said. "Confirm it."
Zetsu's projection emerged from the floor.
"Confirmed. The Ten-Tails has been fully reconstituted. It responds to Roku Tanaka's summons and has demonstrated protective behavior toward him."
"Can it be controlled?"
"Unlikely. It appears to have developed... personality. And loyalty."
"To a failed Academy student."
"Yes."
Pain was silent for a long moment.
"Our goals may need adjustment."
"Adjustment?" Hidan demanded. "What the hell does THAT mean?!"
"It means that the path we planned—using the Tailed Beasts as weapons—is no longer viable. Something has changed. The balance of power has shifted."
"To ONE GUY?!"
"To one guy who erased Orochimaru from existence, befriended the ultimate calamity, broke an unbreakable genjutsu, and apparently possesses natural mastery of legendary weapons."
The assembled criminals considered this.
"So what do we do?" Sasori asked.
"For now? Nothing."
"NOTHING?!"
"We observe. We wait. We learn. This 'Roku Tanaka' is an unprecedented variable. Until we understand him better, direct confrontation is... inadvisable."
"You mean he's too strong for us."
"I mean that wisdom requires knowing when NOT to fight."
Kisame scowled.
"I hate this. I REALLY hate this."
"Your feelings are noted. The decision stands. Roku Tanaka is not to be engaged. By anyone. For any reason."
After the meeting dispersed, two projections remained.
Pain and Konan.
"You believe this is the correct path?" Konan asked.
"I believe that forcing a confrontation with someone who accidentally summons primordial entities would be foolish. We are not gods, Konan. Not yet."
"And if he threatens our goals?"
"Then we adapt. We find another way."
"You're scared of him."
Pain was silent for a moment.
"Not scared. Respectful. There is a difference."
"Is there?"
"Fear clouds judgment. Respect sharpens it. Roku Tanaka has earned respect—not through violence or intimidation, but through consistently exceeding every limit we thought applied to him."
"He failed the Academy forty-seven times."
"And now he could probably defeat every member of Akatsuki simultaneously. By accident. While apologizing."
Konan almost smiled.
"He sounds... unique."
"He is. And that uniqueness makes him dangerous in ways we don't yet understand."
"Should we attempt contact? Diplomatic contact?"
Pain considered this.
"Perhaps. In time. When we better understand what he wants."
"What DO you think he wants?"
Pain thought about the reports. The testimonies. The patterns of behavior.
"I think... he wants friends. Genuine connections. People who see him for who he is rather than what he can do."
"That seems... surprisingly normal."
"That's what makes it so unusual. He has the power of a god and the desires of a child. It's almost innocent."
"Innocent godhood."
"If such a thing can exist... it exists in Roku Tanaka."
Back in Konoha, Roku had found a clearing outside the village to continue his practice.
Samehada hummed contentedly on his back.
Sparky watched from a nearby boulder, her human form glowing slightly in the afternoon sun.
"You're improving rapidly," she observed.
"It feels natural! Like the sword is teaching me!"
"It probably is. Legendary weapons often carry the knowledge of their previous wielders."
"So I'm learning from all the people who used Samehada before?"
"In a sense. Their techniques, their stances, their understanding—all of it is encoded in the blade."
"That's really cool! It's like having a bunch of teachers!"
"Most people cannot access that knowledge. It requires a certain... compatibility."
"I guess I'm compatible!"
"You are compatible with everything. That is both your gift and your curse."
Roku practiced until sunset.
His movements became increasingly fluid—a dance of blade and body that seemed almost supernatural.
By the time night fell, he had unconsciously mastered techniques that took normal swordsmen decades to learn.
And as he walked home, Samehada purring contentedly on his back, Roku Tanaka smiled.
It had been a good day.
He had made new friends.
He had learned new things.
He had somehow acquired a legendary sword that loved him like a pet.
Life was good.
Watching from the shadows, Itachi observed the young man's departure.
He had returned alone, against orders, to see for himself.
His eyes—still healing, still changing—tracked Roku's movements with something approaching wonder.
"What are you?" he whispered.
Roku, of course, didn't hear.
He was too busy talking to his sword about what they should have for dinner.
But Itachi heard himself.
And for the first time in years, he wondered if perhaps—just perhaps—there was more to life than the bloody path he had chosen.
END CHAPTER 7
Next Chapter: "The Sword Tournament Arc: In Which Roku Accidentally Becomes the Greatest Swordsman in History"
Preview:
"Roku, you've been invited to the Continental Sword Tournament."
"A tournament? That sounds fun!"
"The last winner was Killer Bee. Before him, it was the Fourth Raikage. This is not a casual event."
"I'll do my best!"
"That's what worries me."
Meanwhile, in the tournament registration:
"Why is there a section for 'divine entities' on this form?"
"We added it after the last Chunin Exams. Just in case."
"That seems... paranoid."
"You haven't met Roku Tanaka yet."
"Is he that scary?"
"He's the OPPOSITE of scary. And that's what makes him terrifying."