The morning was peaceful.
Too peaceful, Kakashi would later reflect. The kind of peaceful that preceded catastrophic events. The kind of peaceful that made experienced ninja check their weapons and update their wills.
But Roku didn't notice any of that. He was too busy packing a picnic basket.
"Let's see... rice balls, check. Grilled fish, check. Those little dumplings Ayame-san made, check. Extra servings for a really big friend, check check check..."
Samehada watched from its position against the wall, scales rippling with what might have been amusement. The sword had learned, over the months of partnership, that Roku's definition of "normal morning activities" differed significantly from everyone else's.
Sparky materialized beside him, her human form flickering into existence with the soft crackle of contained lightning.
"You are packing enough food for thirty people."
"Jūbi gets hungry! And they've been sealed away for so long, they probably haven't had a nice meal in forever!"
"The Ten-Tails does not require food. It is a primordial entity of pure chakra."
"Everyone likes snacks, Sparky. Even primordial entities."
"...I cannot argue with that logic."
She watched him continue packing with methodical enthusiasm, adding items to the basket with the care of someone preparing for an important occasion.
"You are going to summon the progenitor of all chakra. For a picnic."
"It's been a while since we hung out! I've been so busy with training that I haven't had time to visit. Jūbi probably thinks I forgot about them."
"The Ten-Tails has existed since before time had meaning. I doubt a few months of absence has troubled it."
"But what if they're lonely? Being sealed in a dimension between dimensions sounds really isolating."
Sparky considered this.
She had existed since the first lightning. She understood loneliness in ways that mortals could not comprehend. The vast emptiness of eternity, broken only by brief moments of connection.
And she understood, perhaps better than anyone, that Roku's concern was genuine. He truly worried about the emotional wellbeing of a world-ending cosmic entity.
"You are impossible."
"Thanks!"
"That was not entirely a compliment."
"I know! But I'm choosing to take it as one anyway!"
He finished packing the basket and slung Samehada onto his back. The sword hummed contentedly, always happy to accompany its wielder on adventures, no matter how bizarre.
"Ready to go?"
"I will observe from a distance. The Ten-Tails and I have a... complicated relationship."
"Because you're both ancient primordial entities?"
"Because we once fought over territorial boundaries in the conceptual realm. It was a disagreement that reshaped several dimensions."
"Oh. Well, maybe today you can make up! Reconciliation is important!"
Sparky's eye twitched.
"Perhaps. We shall see."
The summoning location was the same valley where Roku had first accidentally called forth Jūbi—far from Konoha, far from civilization, far from anything that could be accidentally destroyed.
The landscape still bore the scars of that first encounter. Trenches carved by impossible energies. Boulders displaced by shockwaves. A persistent shimmer in the air where reality had been stressed beyond its normal limits.
Roku set down his picnic basket and took a deep breath.
"Okay. Here goes."
He didn't use hand signs. Didn't channel chakra in any deliberate way. He simply thought about his friend, reached out with something that wasn't quite his mind and wasn't quite his soul, and called.
The response was immediate.
The sky darkened. The temperature dropped. The air itself seemed to hold its breath.
And then, with a sound like the universe remembering something it had tried to forget, the Ten-Tails appeared.
It was smaller than last time—Roku had learned, through trial and error, that Jūbi could control its size to some degree. Today, the primordial entity manifested at roughly the size of a large house, its ten tails curled around it like a cat settling in for a nap.
Its single massive eye focused on Roku.
"You came back."
The voice resonated through reality itself, carrying undertones of surprise and something that might have been joy.
"Of course I came back! I said I would!"
"Many have said many things to me. Few have meant them."
"Well, I meant it. I brought snacks!"
Roku held up the picnic basket with evident pride.
The Ten-Tails—progenitor of all chakra, source of the Tailed Beasts, being of apocalyptic power—stared at the basket.
"Snacks."
"Rice balls! And dumplings! And grilled fish! I wasn't sure what you liked, so I brought a variety."
"I have existed since before your world formed. I have consumed the life force of civilizations. I have—"
"Do you not like rice balls? I can make something else if you prefer."
The Ten-Tails was silent for a long moment.
"I have never had a rice ball."
"Then today's the day! Come on, let's find a nice spot to sit!"
From her observation point a kilometer away, Sparky watched Roku lay out a picnic blanket for the Ten-Tails.
The primordial entity had shrunk further—now roughly the size of a large dog—and was curled up on the blanket, delicately accepting offerings of food from Roku's hands.
"This is the strangest thing I have ever witnessed," Sparky murmured to herself. "And I have witnessed the birth of stars."
She wasn't jealous.
She was ABSOLUTELY NOT jealous.
The fact that her lightning crackled more intensely than usual was simply a reaction to atmospheric conditions. Nothing more.
"So how have you been?" Roku asked, settling onto the blanket beside his enormous friend.
"I exist. That is my primary state of being."
"But are you HAPPY? Being sealed away must be boring."
The Ten-Tails considered this question. Happiness was not a concept it had much experience with. For most of its existence, it had known only hunger, rage, and the cold satisfaction of destruction.
But since meeting Roku...
"I think about things now. Things other than consumption and chaos."
"That sounds like growth!"
"Perhaps. It is... uncomfortable. But not unpleasant."
"What kinds of things do you think about?"
"You, mostly."
Roku blinked.
"Me?"
"You are confusing. You should fear me. Every being that has ever encountered me has feared me. But you brought rice balls."
"Rice balls are good! Everyone should have rice balls!"
"That is not the point. The point is that you treat me like... like..."
The Ten-Tails struggled to find the right word. Its vocabulary for positive interpersonal concepts was extremely limited.
"Like I matter. Not as a weapon or a threat or a source of power. Just as... myself."
Roku smiled warmly.
"You DO matter. Everyone matters. Even ancient primordial entities that could destroy the world."
"ESPECIALLY ancient primordial entities that could destroy the world. We are typically excluded from mattering."
"That's really sad. You should matter to someone."
"I matter to you?"
"Of course! You're my friend!"
The Ten-Tails was quiet for a long time.
Its massive eye, normally cold and unknowable, glistened with something that might have been moisture.
"I do not understand friendship. I was not created for it. I was created to be a weapon, a deterrent, a force of absolute destruction."
"Maybe you can be something else now. People change. Entities change. Everything changes."
"The Sage tried to change me. He split me into nine pieces because he believed it was the only way to prevent my destruction."
"Was he wrong?"
"I thought so. For centuries, I raged against what he had done. I wanted to be whole again. To reclaim my power. To prove that I could not be contained or controlled."
"And now?"
The Ten-Tails looked at Roku.
Really looked.
"Now I wonder if being whole is even what I want. The pieces of me—the Tailed Beasts—they have had experiences I never had. They have formed bonds. Known kindness. Learned to be more than weapons."
"You can learn that too."
"From you?"
"From everyone! But yeah, I can help. That's what friends do."
In the Pure Land, someone was watching.
Not Madara—he had made his peace and was currently engaged in an eternal argument with Hashirama about the proper way to organize an afterlife garden.
No, this observer was older. Wiser. More fundamentally connected to the scene unfolding in the mortal realm.
The Sage of Six Paths sat in contemplative silence, his ringed eyes fixed on a window between worlds that showed him his creation—the Ten-Tails, the being he had sacrificed everything to seal—having a picnic with a young man.
"Interesting," Hagoromo murmured.
"What is?" his brother Hamura asked, appearing beside him. The Ōtsutsuki brothers rarely interacted these days—their duties in the afterlife kept them occupied in different ways—but something had drawn Hamura to his sibling's side.
"Look."
Hamura looked.
And saw something that should have been impossible.
The Ten-Tails—their mother's corrupted will, the weapon she had become—was eating rice balls. Contentedly. While a young human patted its side and talked about the weather.
"That's... that's the Jūbi."
"It is."
"Being fed snacks."
"Yes."
"By a mortal."
"A very unusual mortal."
Hamura was quiet for a long moment.
"Mother would be furious."
"Mother WAS furious. About everything, constantly. That was rather the problem." Hagoromo leaned forward, his ancient eyes studying Roku with intense curiosity. "But this boy... he is doing something I could not."
"What?"
"Reaching the Jūbi. Not through force or sealing or division. Through kindness."
"That's impossible. The Jūbi is rage incarnate. Hunger given form. It cannot be reached."
"And yet."
They watched as Roku offered the Ten-Tails another rice ball. The cosmic entity accepted it with surprising delicacy, its massive form somehow managing to convey gratitude.
"Who IS he?" Hamura asked.
"Roku Tanaka. Failed the ninja Academy forty-seven times. Cannot perform a single technique correctly. Accidentally summons primordial entities and befriends cosmic horrors."
"That doesn't explain anything."
"No. It doesn't." Hagoromo smiled—a rare expression for the Sage of Six Paths. "And I find that refreshing. After centuries of understanding everything, it is pleasant to encounter a mystery."
"Should we be concerned? The Jūbi being active, even in this diminished form..."
"If it were anyone else, yes. But Roku..." Hagoromo shook his head. "I created the Tailed Beasts to prevent the Jūbi's return. I believed that division was the only answer. That the whole could not be trusted."
"And now?"
"Now I wonder if I was wrong. Not about the division—that was necessary at the time—but about the underlying assumption. I assumed the Jūbi could never change. That it was fixed in its nature. Eternal and immutable."
"Isn't it?"
"I thought so. But that young man is teaching it about friendship. And the Jūbi is LISTENING."
Hamura absorbed this information.
"So what do we do?"
"We watch. We wait. And we hope." Hagoromo settled back into his contemplation. "For the first time in centuries, I have hope for something I thought was beyond redemption."
"The Jūbi?"
"The world. If one failed Academy student can reach a cosmic horror through kindness... perhaps humanity is not as limited as I believed."
Back in the mortal realm, Roku had moved on from snacks to conversation.
"So I've been training with Mifune-sensei," he explained, absently scratching behind one of the Ten-Tails' smaller appendages. The entity made a sound disturbingly similar to purring. "He's teaching me to be a real swordsman. Not just someone who accidentally wins fights."
"You wish to earn your victories rather than stumble into them."
"Exactly! You understand!"
"I understand the desire for control. For centuries, I was controlled by others—summoned, sealed, divided. I never chose my own path."
"That sounds frustrating."
"It was. It IS. Even now, sealed in the space between dimensions, I exist at the mercy of barriers created by others."
Roku was quiet for a moment, thinking.
"What if I helped you?"
"Helped me how?"
"I don't know yet. But there must be a way for you to have more freedom. More choice. You shouldn't have to be sealed forever just because of what you MIGHT do."
"I have destroyed worlds."
"Have you? Or did you destroy things because you were angry about being controlled?"
The Ten-Tails went very still.
"...Both. The destruction was real. The suffering I caused was real."
"I'm not saying it wasn't. But people can change. Entities can change. Maybe the reason you destroyed things before was because you didn't have any other options."
"You would give me options?"
"I'd try. Everyone deserves options."
The Ten-Tails was silent for a very long time.
"You are the strangest being I have ever encountered. And I have encountered the Sage of Six Paths himself."
"He seems nice too. Kind of sad, from what I've heard."
"Sad?"
"He had to seal away someone he created because he couldn't think of another way. That sounds really sad. Like a parent who gives up on their child."
The Ten-Tails made a sound that might have been agreement.
"He did not give up. He simply could not see another path. I was too angry to listen. Too hungry to reason. By the time I might have been ready for another approach, the seals were already in place."
"Maybe it's not too late. Maybe we can find another way now."
"Perhaps. With you, anything seems possible."
They spent hours together.
Roku talked about his training, his friends, his confusion about romantic feelings, his goals for the future. The Ten-Tails listened with an intensity that suggested it was memorizing every word.
In return, the cosmic entity shared stories of the ancient world. Of the Sage of Six Paths and his desperate gambit. Of the creation of the Tailed Beasts. Of centuries of isolation and rage.
"I was not always like this," Jūbi said quietly. "When I was first created—when I was still part of the Divine Tree—I was merely hungry. Not angry. Not vengeful. Just hungry."
"What changed?"
"My mother. Kaguya. She merged with me, and her rage became mine. Her fear became mine. Her desperate need for control infected everything I was."
"That sounds really hard."
"It was. It IS. I cannot always tell which thoughts are mine and which were hers. The boundaries are blurred."
Roku considered this.
"Maybe that's something we can work on. Figuring out which parts are you and which parts are leftover Kaguya stuff."
"You would help me with that?"
"Of course! That's what friends do!"
"I do not understand how you can care so much about something that has caused such destruction."
"Because the destruction isn't who you ARE. It's what you DID. There's a difference. People aren't defined by their worst moments. They're defined by what they choose to do next."
The Ten-Tails was quiet.
Then, slowly, its massive form pressed against Roku's side.
A hug.
A cosmic entity capable of ending worlds was hugging him.
"Thank you," it said quietly. "For seeing me. Not the weapon. Not the threat. Just... me."
Roku hugged back as best he could, his arms barely spanning a fraction of Jūbi's reduced form.
"Any time. That's what friends are for."
When the picnic ended, Roku helped pack up while the Ten-Tails watched with its single massive eye.
"I'll come back soon," Roku promised. "Maybe next week? We can have lunch again."
"I would like that."
"And maybe we can start working on that freedom thing. There has to be a way for you to exist in the world without being sealed."
"That would require convincing many powerful beings that I am no longer a threat."
"I'm pretty persuasive! I convinced Madara to give up his plans!"
"You convinced MADARA—" The Ten-Tails stopped. "Madara Uchiha?"
"Yeah! He sent me a letter. Very nice apology. Said he was wrong about everything."
"Madara Uchiha. The man who planned to use me to cast the Infinite Tsukuyomi. He has... given up?"
"That's what his letter said. He seemed really sincere about it."
The Ten-Tails processed this information.
"You convinced the architect of my potential enslavement to abandon his plans. Through kindness."
"I didn't really DO anything. I just lived my life."
"That IS doing something. That is doing EVERYTHING."
Roku smiled and shouldered his empty picnic basket.
"I'll see you soon, Jūbi. Take care of yourself."
"I will try. It is a new concept for me. Self-care."
"Start with the basics. Rest when you're tired. Eat when you're hungry. Think about things that make you happy."
"Rice balls make me happy now. I did not know I could feel happy about food."
"See? You're already learning!"
The Ten-Tails began to fade, returning to the dimensional space between worlds where it resided.
"Roku Tanaka."
"Yeah?"
"Thank you. For everything. For seeing possibility where others saw only threat."
"Any time. That's what friends—"
"Are for. Yes. I am beginning to understand."
And then it was gone, leaving only a faint shimmer in the air where reality remembered its presence.
Roku picked up his basket and started walking home.
It had been a good day.
Sparky met him halfway back to the village.
"You spent six hours with the Ten-Tails."
"Time flies when you're having fun!"
"You had 'fun' with the progenitor of all chakra."
"Jūbi's really interesting once you get past the whole 'cosmic horror' thing. They have a lot of feelings they've never been able to express."
Sparky fell into step beside him, her expression unreadable.
"I watched. From a distance."
"Did you want to come say hi? I could have introduced you!"
"The Ten-Tails and I have history. Ancient, complicated history."
"All the more reason to work things out! Holding grudges is bad for your health."
"I am an immortal being. Health is not a concern."
"Mental health, then. Emotional health. You can't tell me that having unresolved conflict with another primordial entity isn't weighing on you."
Sparky was quiet for a long moment.
"You are insufferably perceptive sometimes."
"Is that a yes?"
"It is an acknowledgment that you may have a point. Which I will address at a later date. Perhaps in several centuries."
"That seems like a long time to wait."
"To you. To me, it is a brief moment."
Roku accepted this with his characteristic equanimity.
"Okay. But if you ever want to talk about it, I'm here."
"I know. You are always here. For everyone. Whether they deserve it or not."
"Everyone deserves someone to listen."
"Even cosmic entities with world-ending potential?"
"ESPECIALLY cosmic entities with world-ending potential. They probably have the most to talk about."
Sparky shook her head, but she was smiling.
"You are impossible, Roku Tanaka."
"Thanks!"
"That was not a compliment."
"I know. But I'm choosing to take it as one anyway."
Meanwhile, very far away, in a base hidden deep underground, a man in an orange mask was having a very confusing day.
Obito Uchiha—known to the world as Tobi, known to Akatsuki as Madara—was reviewing reports that made absolutely no sense.
"What do you mean Orochimaru is GONE?"
"Erased," Zetsu confirmed, his black and white halves speaking in unsettling tandem. "Completely. We cannot find any trace of him. Not his body. Not his backup bodies. Not even his research facilities."
"People don't just get ERASED."
"This one did. Something happened during the Konoha Chunin Exams. The reports are confused, but they all mention the same name."
"What name?"
"Roku Tanaka."
Obito frowned behind his mask.
The name was familiar. He had heard it in passing—some failed Academy student who had become inexplicably powerful. But he hadn't paid much attention. There were always rumors about prodigies and anomalies. Most of them amounted to nothing.
"What about him?"
"He appears to have... dealt with Orochimaru. And prevented the invasion. And won a Continental Sword Tournament. And befriended several primordial entities."
"Befriended WHAT?"
"Primordial entities. Ancient beings of cosmic power. There are reports of a lightning goddess who accompanies him. And something about the Ten-Tails, though those reports are particularly confused."
Obito went very still.
"The Ten-Tails."
"Yes. It seems he can summon it. And that it obeys him willingly."
"That's impossible. The Ten-Tails is sealed. The only way to release it is through the Moon's Eye Plan—"
"Perhaps there are other ways. Ways we did not anticipate."
Obito's mind raced.
The plan—MADARA'S plan, the plan he had inherited and dedicated his life to completing—relied on gathering the Tailed Beasts and reforming the Ten-Tails. It was supposed to be the only path to the Infinite Tsukuyomi.
But if someone else had access to the Ten-Tails...
"I need to investigate this personally."
"Is that wise? The reports suggest this Roku Tanaka is extraordinarily powerful."
"I'm Madara Uchiha. There is no one more powerful than me."
Zetsu said nothing.
But if plants could look skeptical, he would have.
In the Pure Land, the REAL Madara was playing shogi with Hashirama.
"He still thinks he's me," Madara observed, moving a piece.
"Obito? Yes, he's very committed to the role."
"Should we tell him I've given up?"
Hashirama considered this.
"Can we? I don't think we have a way to communicate with the living world. That messenger thing you did for Roku was apparently extremely difficult."
"It was. I had to convince several abstract concepts to cooperate. 'Death' was particularly obstinate."
"So Obito continues thinking he's carrying out your plan."
"A plan I've abandoned."
"That you've abandoned because a failed Academy student convinced you that humanity wasn't fundamentally broken."
"Don't remind me."
They played in silence for a moment.
"He's going to encounter Roku eventually," Hashirama said.
"Probably."
"And when he does..."
"He'll either have his worldview shattered or he'll die trying to resist. Possibly both."
"Should we feel bad about that?"
Madara moved another piece.
"Obito made his choices. I can't unmake them from the afterlife. All I can do is hope that when he meets Roku, some of that impossible kindness rubs off on him."
"You think it will?"
"I think Roku could befriend a rock if he tried hard enough. An emotionally damaged Uchiha with a messiah complex should be easy by comparison."
Hashirama laughed.
"You've changed."
"I've accepted that I was wrong. There's a difference."
"Not much of one."
"Shut up, Hashirama."
"Never."
Back in Konoha, Roku was starting his evening training.
Mifune had given him exercises to practice alone—forms and movements to reinforce during the gaps between their formal sessions. Roku approached them with the same dedication he brought to everything: absolute commitment mixed with cheerful enthusiasm.
Samehada hummed happily as they moved through the kata, the sword providing gentle corrections when Roku's form slipped.
"You're improving," Sparky observed from her usual observation point.
"Thanks! Mifune-sensei says I'm a fast learner."
"You are. Faster than should be possible."
Roku paused mid-swing.
"Is that bad?"
"No. It is simply unusual. Most people improve incrementally, step by step. You improve in leaps. As if your potential has no upper limit."
"Mifune-sensei said something similar. He said I have 'love' for the sword."
"Love?"
"He meant that I enjoy training. That I practice because I want to, not because I have to."
"And do you? Enjoy it?"
Roku resumed his kata, movements flowing like water.
"I really do. For so long, I couldn't do anything right. Every technique I tried went wrong. Every exam I took ended in failure. But this..." He completed a complex sequence, Samehada singing through the air. "This feels RIGHT. Like it was always supposed to be mine."
"Perhaps it was. Perhaps the failures were not failures at all, but the universe clearing your path. Removing the wrong options until only the right one remained."
"That's a nice way to think about it."
"I am occasionally capable of nice thoughts."
"I know you are. You're much nicer than you pretend to be."
"I am a primordial goddess of divine lightning. I am not NICE."
"You packed me lunch yesterday. With a little note that said 'stay hydrated.'"
"That was practical advice. Dehydration impairs performance."
"The note had a heart drawn on it."
"That was... a slip of the pen."
"Uh-huh."
Sparky's lightning flickered in what might have been embarrassment.
"Continue your training. I will observe."
"Okay!"
Roku returned to his kata, smiling.
Hours passed.
The sun set, painting the training ground in shades of orange and purple. Stars emerged, one by one, until the sky was full of them.
Roku continued practicing.
Not because he had to. Not because Mifune would know if he stopped early.
Because he loved it.
Because every swing of the sword felt like coming home.
Because for the first time in his life, he was doing something that felt entirely, completely, absolutely RIGHT.
"You should rest," Sparky said eventually. "You've been at this for hours."
"Just a little longer. I want to get this sequence perfect."
"You've already performed it perfectly. Seventeen times."
"But what if I can make it MORE perfect?"
"That's not how perfection works."
"Everything can always be improved. That's what Mifune-sensei says."
Sparky watched him continue, her expression soft in a way she would deny if anyone pointed it out.
"You've changed," she said quietly.
Roku paused.
"Changed how?"
"When I first met you, you were cheerful but aimless. Kind but undirected. You stumbled through life, accidentally achieving incredible things without understanding why."
"And now?"
"Now you have purpose. Direction. You know what you want and you're working toward it. Deliberately. Intentionally."
"Is that good?"
"It's beautiful."
The word hung in the air between them.
"You are becoming something extraordinary, Roku Tanaka. Not because the universe forces you to. Because you CHOOSE to. And that choice... that choice is the most powerful thing I have ever witnessed."
Roku lowered his sword, turning to face her fully.
"Thanks, Sparky. That means a lot."
"I am simply stating facts."
"Facts can still mean a lot."
She moved toward him, her human form solid and warm despite being composed of pure lightning.
"You should know something."
"What?"
"I have existed since the first lightning. I have witnessed the rise and fall of civilizations. I have seen power in all its forms—earned, stolen, inherited, destroyed."
"Okay."
"In all that time, I have never encountered anyone like you. Anyone who makes the impossible seem not just possible, but inevitable. Anyone who changes the fundamental nature of reality simply by being kind."
"I don't try to change reality."
"I know. That's what makes it so remarkable. You don't TRY. You simply ARE. And the world reshapes itself around you."
She reached out and touched his face, her fingers crackling with contained electricity.
"I chose you because you caught my lightning. I stayed because you showed me what kindness truly means. And I will continue to stay, for as long as existence allows, because you are the most extraordinary being I have ever known."
Roku looked at her, his expression open and honest.
"I still don't understand romantic love the way other people do."
"I know."
"But I know I care about you. A lot. More than I care about most things."
"I know that too."
"And maybe someday I'll understand the rest. The stuff that confuses me. The feelings that other people seem to have that I don't quite grasp."
"Perhaps. Or perhaps you will simply continue being you, and that will be enough."
"Is it enough? For you?"
Sparky smiled—a genuine smile, warm and bright despite being composed of electricity.
"It is more than enough. It is everything."
They stood together in the starlight, a swordsman and his goddess, surrounded by a peace that felt earned rather than accidental.
And tomorrow, training would continue.
And the day after that.
And the day after that.
Because Roku had finally found his path.
And he intended to walk it as far as it would go.
In the shadows beyond the training ground, a figure watched.
Zetsu had been observing for hours, gathering information, trying to understand this anomaly that had disrupted so many carefully laid plans.
He had expected to find a threat.
He had found something far more confusing.
A young man practicing sword forms under starlight, accompanied by a being of obvious divine power, radiating nothing but contentment and genuine joy.
There was no malice. No ambition. No hidden agenda.
Just practice.
Just growth.
Just... peace.
"This is wrong," Zetsu muttered to himself. "This is not how power works. Power corrupts. Power demands. Power TAKES."
But Roku wasn't taking anything.
He was giving.
Giving his time to training. Giving his attention to his companions. Giving his kindness to cosmic entities that should have been beyond redemption.
"Tobi needs to see this," Zetsu decided. "He needs to understand what we're dealing with."
He melted into the ground, carrying his observations back to his master.
But somewhere in his ancient, purpose-built consciousness, a seed of doubt had been planted.
What if power didn't HAVE to corrupt?
What if there was another way?
END CHAPTER 11
Next Chapter: "The Akatsuki Problem (And How Kindness Ruins Everything)"
Preview:
"So you're telling me this one ninja has befriended multiple primordial entities, convinced the Ten-Tails to attend picnics, won the Continental Sword Tournament, and may have already caused Madara's ghost to give up on his plans?"
"That's correct."
"And he's not even doing it on PURPOSE?"
"That's the worst part. He just wants to make friends."
"This ruins everything."
"I know."
"How do we even fight someone who kills you with kindness?"
"We don't know. That's why I came to report."
"...I need to sit down."