Eternal Yujin
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TCoH—Chapter 3.8 [31]
🕑 Added 2024-07-12 14:54:58 +0000 UTC- - -
Chapter 3.8 [31]
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I couldn’t sleep.
The only light source in the room was the clear moonlit sky coming in from the slightly open window, but even that failed to illuminate the entirety of the room. I lay awake on the hard wooden floor, staring at the ceiling and sighed.
“Naruto,” Choji’s voice sounded from beside my head as a whisper, “are you awake?”
“I am,” I whispered back. “What’s wrong?”
He was silent for a long, long moment.
“What do you think about it—about killing?”
The conversation we’d had as a team seemed fresh in both of our minds seeing that he was still up.
“Killing, huh?” The word itself carried a weight that both of us could feel. “It’s a response beyond the pale in most cases. As shinobi, it’s necessary, but that doesn’t mean it’s supposed to be easy.”
“I’ve thought a lot about killing, even during the Academy. We were only killing animals on field trips, but that was for food as much as it was to get us used to blood and the other stuff.” He stopped speaking but in the silence, I could hear the intake of air as he tried to formulate his next sentence. “In our clan, there’s a way to going about killing animals: you make sure they don’t suffer needlessly and before and after eating, you have to express gratefulness—but humans aren’t animals.”
I snorted. “There’s a whole argument to be had about that.”
“Not like that,” he huffed, nudging me with his elbow, “I meant that animals give us nutrients and their fur protects us from the cold; their fat can be used in candles or as soap. There’s a purpose to killing them that isn’t just killing.”
“I hear you, man,” I said, smiling even though he couldn’t see it. Choji was a soul-crushingly kind kid. “The reason why we kill animals and make use of every part of them is because of survival.”
“Right—that’s it. But with killing people, I can’t help but wonder why, you know? We all have friends and family who love and depend on us. Finding out someone you care about is dead is painful enough so why make people experience that sooner by ending their life—why?”
“It’s for the same reason, Choji—survival. Conflict and violence… they’re wired into us; for some people like Kiba, it’s a little bit more, and for others like you, it’s a little bit less.”
“But what does that have to do with killing?”
“I’ll get there, I’m just setting the scene first.” I took a deep breath and freed my arms from the sleeping bag, laying them across my stomach, and clasping them together at the fingers. “Your family hunts a lot so you should know about survival of the fittest.”
“I do, yeah.”
“In the wild, there’s always something animals stand to gain by killing, right? They eliminate a potential threat and receive food or territory—heck, they get to keep their life. Human beings aren’t all that different even if we’re a little bit more complicated. That same brutal violence is wired into us even if we can communicate on a deeper level than animals.”
“That might be true,” said Choji with his voice heavy with doubt despite his words, “but then why isn’t everyone killing?”
“Because not everyone wants to kill—but there are still people who do because there’s something to gain.” I tried to keep the heaviness out of my voice with the next sentence but I must’ve failed because Choji stiffened slightly. “Killing won’t ever stop because while some people don’t want to kill, there are people that do because they have something to gain from it—physically or otherwise—and that’s not even the worst of it.”
“It’s not?”
“No—what’s worse is that killing won’t ever stop because so long as there are people who kill, their victims will hate and kill them in turn. Over and over and over again because as much as the law punishes lawbreakers, an eye for an eye is a tale as old as time.”
The two of us lay there on the floor, waiting for the other person to say something, but neither of us uttered a word. The conversation about killing had brought the mission even further to the front of my mind and once again, any exhaustion I felt was banished by a chill.
“Naruto?” asked Choji. “What do you think about why people kill each other?”
“Me?” I sighed, thinking over my answer slowly. “I… understand why people kill and even agree with some of their reasoning. Killing for no apparent reason is wrong, but when that person has killed someone you love? You can’t condemn them for wanting vengeance.”
“Okay, but what if you kill someone who hasn’t done anything to you, like personally?”
My lips twitched upwards at the lack of subtlety in the question. “So, we’re talking about the mission now, huh?”
He didn’t say anything, but he let out a strangled hum at having been found out.
“Okay, think of it this way: tomorrow, we’re going to go out there to siege the outpost, whether we want to kill the Jagged Blades or not. We can talk as much philosophy about why people kill as we want but tomorrow, they’re going to try to kill us to stop us from doing the same to them.”
Those were the facts.
In an ideal world, everyone would be able to live without conflict and in relative peace, but life was anything but ideal and the sacrifice needed for peace would always be war, violence, and death. That was as true in my past life as it was in this one and I felt my frustration rise at everything.
So, was it surprising that power was prized above all in this shinobi world? For all my pointing out the shinobi system’s faults, I accepted the necessity of fighting to kill so that I could survive, embraced my desire to kill Obito for killing my parents, and willingly put myself in an avoidable kill-or-be-killed scenario to achieve both those goals.
Because until I had the strength to do something about it, I was beholden to the world’s rules, as countless other shinobi were.
“So that’s it then?” Choji asked. “Kill, otherwise you’ll die.”
“Yup—that’s the bottom line.”
I’d said that to him before we’d drifted off into a light nap preceding our move on the outpost, but felt a lot less certain the closer we drew to the watchtower and the further we left Tenka Village behind. The sky above was lightening from pitch-black to a deep, dark blue and while our surroundings still weren’t visible, Hinata led us from the front at a steady pace.
We circulated our chakra to keep our networks primed and ready even if no one attacked us on the way to the outpost. Armed to the teeth and clad in my brown flak jacket, the mesh shirt, and the concealed weapons, I was… uncertain. All my training and preparation—it was all for this. To take the skills I’d learned, the techniques I’d honed, and use them to kill.
But I wasn’t scared or excited at the prospect of doing so. Just empty—grudgingly accepting.
We stopped at the edge of the forest, peering over the undergrowth at a stretch of several dozen metres of grass where the outpost stood tall. It was fenced in by several wooden spikes plunged into the earth. When I squinted, I could just about see two men standing guard at the front of the gate facing us and there were probably three more pairs stationed at each side of the fence.
Torchlight bobbed between the wooden spikes, bathing the ground in an orange glow.
“Hinata, where are the shinobi?” asked Asuma.
A moment later, she replied, “All of them are asleep but there’s an archer with a telescope at the top of the watchtower.”
Taking a closer look, I noticed the glint of a lamp, like a firefly, on top of the outpost.
Asuma smiled—but this smile was unlike his usual ones. There was an edge to it; I wouldn’t call it bloodthirsty, but it was unnerving.
“Hit ‘em hard and hit ‘em fast,” he said, looking at Choji. “Body flicker down there, bust down the walls.”
He nodded.
“Naruto, go with him and bring down the wall—but wait until Hinata is with you.”
I nodded.
“Hinata, I want you to take out the other guards stationed around the perimeter while these two focus on the front entrance. Then, go up there and deal with the guy on the watchtower.”
Again, I nodded to myself—this was doable. I just hoped the adrenaline and muscle memory combined would be enough to stop us from freezing, but after the conversation I’d had with Choji, I couldn’t be so sure.
So, I tapped his shoulder.
He looked up and I could see duty warring with doubt and indecision in his brown eyes.
“Let’s do this,” I said, standing in front of him. I took all the moral quandaries and shoved them as deep as they would go, staring at the outpost and circling chakra around my body. “Don’t think—just follow me.”
I blasted out of the undergrowth.
The world wrenched past; chilling winds ripped through my hair and eyes but I kept them open, touching down a few metres in front of the guards. They froze at the sight of me and I saw one go for the blade at his hip. Dividing the moulded chakra I had left after using the Body Flicker, I sent half to my feet, closing the gap between me and the two guards in the blink of an eye.
Making use of the rest, I swung for the one going for his weapon, spinning on my heel before he even hit the ground. Something warm and wet splashed across my face at how fast I’d turned—I ignored it. Slipping into my pouch, I hurled a kunai at the other guard’s exposed throat and he toppled back, gurgling.
I turned after registering someone’s footsteps. It was Choji. He looked between me and the bodies and froze. I swallowed—when had my throat become so dry?
“Break down the wall,” I croaked, using the clean plate on the back of my right hand as a mirror. A still-wet bloody smear ran across my right cheekbone, trailing down to my jawbone. I stared at my reflection until the front gate exploded in a shower of wooden chips and a chorus of low thuds.
Choji’s enlarged fist shrunk back to normal size. He slammed his palms onto the ground, finishing his series of hand seals. Clumps of earth coated his hands completely, coalescing around his forearm into two hardened gauntlets.
“I-Intruders!”
It was obvious that we’d caught the Jagged Blades with their pants down. Six of them were milling about the courtyard and scrambled for their weapons when we busted down the front gate.
The distant but clear bellow of a horn broke out across the outpost before that same sound was echoed two or three times over. I gritted my teeth and used Great Breakthrough, aiming for the two-storey building where the rest of the forces and the three shinobi were sleeping. It wouldn’t kill the shinobi, but it would kill the stream of mercenaries bolting out of the windows and doors.
My lungs expanded as the chakra I’d gathered there transformed into violent winds. I jumped up before releasing it all at the building. Cupping two chakra-coated hands in front of my face, I shaped the jutsu into a targeted cone of sheer destruction. It expanded as it left my hands and kept me in the air.
I swept the violent wave back and forth, causing as much damage as possible while slowly returning to the ground. It slammed into the building destroying its entire front face and levelled the rest of it with little resistance. At least four of the stragglers escaping the building were blown away and the unlucky few left inside were soon crushed underneath wooden beams and tiling.
The ones on the ground scrambled out of the way, rushing towards us with their weapons raised.
“S-Shit!” The group we’d run into after busting down the door put their weapons between us and them. “It’s the Hidden Leaf—shit. I didn’t sign up for this!”
“Choji,” I nodded at the wrecked building, “most of them are dead but the three shinobi and whoever’s left are going to come busting out of there pretty soon, come on.”
Without waiting for his reply, I threw myself into the thick of things—there was no thinking.
A sword came for my head so I ducked low, sweeping the assailant off their feet and then slamming my foot down as I rose.
Something crunched beneath my heel.
In the same breath, I pulled out two kunai from my holsters and brandished them, stepping forward with a burst of chakra under my feet. Forcefully breaking into the formation of four mercenaries, I plunged the blades hilt-deep into two of them and knocked the other two back with enhanced punches to the chest.
The last of the final two coughed at a bloody globule into my face before hurtling several metres away from me. I wiped it away, more disgusted that he’d spat at me than the blood covering my face, hands, and boots.
And thank fuck I wasn’t wearing open-toed boots.
“Naruto!”
Choji bellowed, raising his fists as another group of mercenaries stormed forward.
The horn continued to below, even as the clang of weaponry and rousing battle cries filled the outpost. He stood at my side and planted his feet as a horde of mercenaries wielding swords and sabres charged. I punched at—and through—one after the other—only stopping to give Choji a wide enough berth to exhaust his stone gauntlets.
By the time I’d managed to get enough space to look at him, his stone gauntlets were broken away in chunks and painted red with blood. That said, he seemed too hopped up on adrenaline to pay attention to the bodies surrounding him.
Gritting my teeth, I hurled a volley of shuriken at an oncoming wave of mercenaries.
“That ain’t reaching us, you evil little bastard,” one jeered, raising his sword.
I smiled humourlessly and brought my palms together to finish my hand seals. A powerful draft of wind surged out from me and propelled the shuriken even further. Some of the mercenaries had shields raised but most were fooled into believing my weapons wouldn’t reach them.
Before I could close in to end their suffering, something dropped into the group from above. I caught a twin cobalt flare before the glow vanished into their midst. Hinata emerged from their corpses, dispelling the chakra coating her hands to tie her hair back into a ponytail.
She probably should have done that earlier, but I shook the thought off. As she drew closer, I noticed that she didn’t have a single drop of blood on her—unlike Choji and I. The worst of it was a light sheen on her slightly flushed face.
The commotion behind me gradually eased off. I turned to see Choji surrounded by at least five bodies—and they hadn’t died easily. Two’d had their heads smashed repeatedly; one was laying down, his chest caved in; and three had fallen in a tangle of bladed weapons, impaling each other.
All the while, he stood in between them—his stone gauntlets were gone and his knuckles were raw and red.
“Choji?” I ran up to him. “Hey!”
His listless eyes were pointed at the three impaled mercenaries. I yanked him by the shoulder.
“Listen,” I hissed, purposefully squeezing him tightly enough to cause pain—to bring a flicker of life to his eyes—otherwise he’d shut down completely, “do you hear that?”
Choji furrowed his brow and listened closely—Hinata did too. Now that there were no more horns, and the battle had died down, it was far easier to make it out: a consistent, almost rhythmic thumping.
It went: one, two—THUMP.
Hinata immediately looked closer. “Goro Tanimoto is breaking out through the back. He’s with the two genin and three normal bandits.”
“Where and how?” I asked.
“Most of the damage was received by its front. You destroyed the entirety of the second floor and most of the first, but the back of the building is stable enough for them to break out.”
“How much chakra do the shinobi have?”
“One is somewhere between Choji and I and has a katana. The other has more than both of us but is unarmed. Of course, Tanimoto has more than us and less than you and Asuma but that's not saying much.”
“Choji,” I barked, making him flinch. “What’s the plan?”
“I-I…” He squeezed his eyes shut and when he opened them, they were clear, focused. “I’ll take the one with more chakra.”
“Hinata?”
She straightened. “I’ve got the one with the katana.”
We shared a nod and positioned ourselves right where they’d emerge from. I circulated my chakra, getting ready to level the rest of the building. Hinata perched on the edge of a tree, staring down at the rubble, and Choji refreshed his stone gauntlets directly below us, setting his jaw.
Expecting the worst, I levelled my palm at the area Hinata had pointed out, aiming Shotgun—a modified Wind-Release: Gale Palm. Gale Palm was a high-coverage, low-force wind jutsu geared more for crowd control than outright damage.
Shotgun, however, compressed the gale—and by simply using more chakra than needed, I retained its wide range. A dense, revolving wind formed in front of my palm and I fired it, bringing down the section of wall Tanimoto and his shinobi were hammering on, along with the rest of the building.
“Did I get them?” I asked, looking at Hinata.
She shook her head, but before she could open her mouth to say anything, the rubble burst apart, revealing three blood-stained shinobi—and none of the blood was theirs. Once the dust settled, I frowned—they’d used the three mercenaries as meat shields. Either that or my jutsu simply hit them instead.
I stared down the three ex-shinobi from above, moulding as much chakra as possible before all hell broke loose. The katana-wielding rogue drew his sword, taking a ready stance and Goro Tanimoto pulled a single-edged, ringed broadsword off his back.
“Leaf shinobi,” he said with a deep frown, laying the non-cutting edge across his shoulder. “Who sent you?”
He deflected the kunai I threw at him—the weapon drawing his attention from Choji and onto me—though he saw Hinata, and a second later, his expression went from rage to apprehension.
Wrenching another two kunai free, I held them in reverse grip and launched at Goro, ignoring the two genin on either side of him. I crouched low when I landed, avoiding a horizontal swing from his blade.
He jumped back, giving me the space needed to throw a front kick. I connected with the flat of his blade and grunted, sending a blast of chakra through my sole to send him flying. The force flipped me back but I righted myself in midair and landed, dashing forward before he could regain his footing.
Goro slammed into the remains of the building and righted his grip over his sword, the rings colliding at how fast he’d swung the weapon. I caught its edge on my kunai, stopping it dead on as he squared his feet and continued pushing. I could feel him overpowering me so I readied the kunai in my other hand and buried it as deep into his stomach as it would go.
The attack forced him to let go of his weapon and he backed away, glaring at me hatefully. “W-Who sent you?”
I levelled my remaining kunai at him.
A vein bulged in his head as he snarled, “Fine—I’ll turn you to ash—then it won’t matter!”
Cursing, I hurled the kunai at him to stop the flow of his hand seals.
He skipped away and I looked back to see Choji and Hinata embroiled in battles of their own. If I dodged, the fire jutsu would hit them. I flew through hand seals of my own as I turned back, gathering more chakra than I did when levelling the building.
A wave of heat slammed into me as Goro spewed a fireball that quickly swelled in size. It set the rubble aflame and roared as it neared me. I kneaded the chakra in my lungs and reared back, shaping it with my hands into a focused cone. It slammed into the centre of the approaching fireball, dispersing the flames in all directions.
The resulting shockwave blasted the surrounding debris away and the intense heat diminished almost instantly as my jutsu overpowered his. Goro's fireball, formidable as it was, couldn't withstand the concentrated power of my jutsu, splitting it into harmless embers that floated down like dying stars, singing the outpost’s wooden remains.
Goro's eyes widened in disbelief. “What kind of jutsu is that?”
I didn't respond, focusing instead on regaining my breath and steadying my stance—even though I had a lot more jutsu in me before I’d felt any sort of strain, I didn’t want to risk Choji and Hinata entering the splash zone. My gaze shifted momentarily to check on the both of them; they seemed to be holding their own.
A measure of relief washed over me at the sight—there was no hesitation in their attacks despite having killed for the first. Goro, more frustrated with a growl, retrieved his sword with a growl.
“You think this is over?” His stomach was dyed red with blood but he didn't show any sign of backing down. “Because it’s not—not by a longshot.”
“You’re right,” I replied, strangely relaxed now. The residual heat from the collision made my skin prickly, but I readied my kunai.
As Goro lunged forward, his blade gleaming in the flickering firelight, I rooted myself, channelling my focus to the point of tunnel vision. Efficiency and precision were key here. Goro's sword swung towards my neck, but I stepped in, closing the distance. My left hand, still gripping the kunai, intercepted his wrist with a powerful deflection, redirecting the blade harmlessly past my shoulder.
I wrenched it down with my right hand and stabbed the kunai deep into his forearm before pulling it out and slamming the hilt into his face. He staggered, his breath hissing out between clenched teeth, but his grip over the sword didn’t slacken one bit.
Goro's sword came slashing horizontally; I flowed around his defences, dropping low and taking advantage of his injured side. My leg whipped around in a seamless motion while I carefully controlled my chakra and unleashed a devastating sidekick to his knee. The joint buckled with a sickening crack.
His knee gave out under him as he roared in pain and fury, sword arm flailing wildly in an attempt to slash at me. I grabbed his wrist again, twisting it sharply. The blade clattered to the ground and I drove my kunai into his forearm, pinning it to the ground. I ground my knuckles into his face, each punch snapping his head back and forth, blood splattering from his mouth and nose.
Setting my jaw, I continued to pummel him, more blood splashing across my face and clothes. He tried to rise, but I stayed ahead of his attempts to regain balance by delivering heavy blows to his injured stomach.
Taking a deep breath, I slid behind him—evading yet another wild, sloppy strike and pounced. Both my arms locked around his throat and I did the same with his waist using my legs. He struggled, but my hold was ironclad. His fingers clawed at my arm, but couldn't find purchase.
With a final, desperate effort, he sagged back, trying to squash me underneath him, but I only tightened my grip, cutting off his air supply completely. His struggles grew weaker, his movements sluggish. I felt his pulse fading under my arm and snapped his neck with a final, brutal twist.
Goro’s body went limp, and I released him, letting his lifeless form slump to the ground. I stood over him, heaving, and wrenched my kunai out of his corpse and then considered the thought before ripping the nine-ringed broadsword from his dead grip.
From the looks of it, Choji and Hinata had finished up too. The natural course of battle had taken them farther away from where our brawls had started. However, each of us stood in a bloodbath of our own making.
Three shinobi lay dead at our feet and dozens more mercenaries encircled us. The crackles of sizzling embers filled the silence. I could see them—my friends—but something stopped me from going to them or even taking a step in their direction. So, instead, I stood still and stared.
At the bodies; some were my doing, some were Choji’s—the four over there were Hinata’s. One after the other, I took life after life. Why couldn’t I feel anything? Shock, revulsion, or even some kind of rush? Instead, there was a hollowness in my chest. Not quite gnawing or heavy but a stationary hollowness at the nine lives I’d taken: the two at the gate, the six inside, and Goro Tanimoto.
Someone touched my shoulder—I didn’t react to it as quickly as I should have. Choji stared at me, looking like he might burst into tears. Hinata gave me a brittle smile and I blinked, not knowing how to reply.
“Good job, you three,” came our teacher’s voice from a tree above us. “You handled that about as well as I expected.” He landed in front of us, placing a hand on each of our heads in turn. “Killing isn’t an easy thing, so talk about it—don’t let it eat you up inside.”
I looked at my friends out of the corner of my eyes.
“I didn’t think it’d be so… easy, you know?” I spoke first because Hinata and Choji wouldn’t—for better or worse, I led them into this shitshow, so I felt some kind of responsibility in leading them out of it. “Killing was always that one thing you never did. Ever. I thought it’d be harder.”
“And it’s messy—and the blood it gets… it gets everywhere. I a-accidentally swallowed it a-and—” Choji cut himself off and retched, emptying his stomach on the rubble of the building I’d flattened.
He reared up, took another look at the bodies littering the outpost and retched again.
Hinata patted his back, purposefully keeping her eyes to the ground. “...With my Byakugan, I could see the exact moment each of them died—without fail. It was terrifying—that no matter what, we’ll die in the same way.”
“You know the saying,” said Asuma, sighing. “Those who kill should be prepared to be killed in turn. There’s a karma to this life—a price to every life we take that we’ll pay, whether you believe in an afterlife or not.”
“Sensei?” Choji’s voice wavered. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “I… Why do people kill?”
Our teacher frowned and, instead of answering, he removed a cigarette from his pack and held one between his teeth. My hand hovered in the air for a moment and I sighed, making my decision.
“Pass me one,” I said.
Asuma raised an eyebrow. “A cigarette?”
“Pass me a cigarette. Right now, I need to feel something that isn’t this… this emptiness, even if it’s the burn of those death sticks.”
He lit it for me before passing it over, face softening. I took a deep drag, my throat burning, but clamped down on my rising cough before breathing it back up. Tears pricked my eyes. Once I blinked them away, I caught Hinata’s eye.
“Give it here,” she said.
I handed it over, fully expecting her to stamp it out but she took a drag from it and handed it back, spluttering. Then, Choji asked for it, and in a daze, I let him take it, accepting it between my fingers when he was done and watched it slowly disintegrate.
Asuma watched our exchange with a deep sadness in his eyes before walking away. He removed another sealing scroll from his pouch, beheading the corpses of the two shinobi Choji and Hinata had killed before doing the same to Goro Tanimoto. I took another drag of the cigarette, tossing the butt into the rubble.
Choji and Hinata stared at the ground until he returned.
“Come on,” he said. “Let’s report back to the village and go home.”
Even when we’d left the outpost behind, it felt like I was still there, surrounded by the bodies and the embers. The cigarette’s bitter taste lingered on my tongue but I was grateful for it. The bodies of my first two kills greeted me at the front gate and I froze, taking in the sight of the one who took a kunai to the throat.
I’d looked away from his dying expression then—the strangled cry was too much for me. This time, I didn’t shy away. His eyes were still open, but they were dull. They followed me, those bottle-green eyes. I could feel them at my back, judging me… blaming me.
The emptiness returned and I sighed, ready to ask for another cigarette. “Hey, Asuma can I—”
Two things happened, then.
A jangle ran across the field, coming from the undergrowth to our left—the same undergrowth we’d emerged from at the start of our assault. I squinted at the darkness, just about able to make out a humanoid shape in the early morning light before I slammed to the ground hard.
My friends yelped beside me and while I couldn’t see a thing over Asuma’s broad body sprawled on top of us—I could hear. Something big and heavy collided into the ground. He rolled away from us and we scrambled to my feet. I knew that sword—that irregular, broad cleaver. Its owner stood next to it, gripping its handle and unearthing it as if the ground was simple butter.
A spiked, interlinked cord lay on the ground next to it before it snapped back sharply. I looked further into the field and my stomach dropped—this was wrong. Why were they here?
The broadsword came for us again but Asuma wedged his trench knives between the massive cleaver and himself. Sparks flew before he slipped underneath the swing, the huge blade just narrowly missing his head. Before he could do anything except stand, the sword came swinging down and he sprung back.
One more person stepped out of the shadowed forest wearing a thin, porcelain-like mask with slits where the eyes should be and a flowing, crimson pattern trailing down. I followed his movements with my eyes, raising Goro Tanimoto’s blade just in time to deflect a hail of senbon.
Hinata and Choji avoided the massive chain hurled from across the field.
Was this a battle we could even win? I gritted my teeth, plunging the ringed broadsword into the soil. If I made it out alive, I could always retrieve it, but until then, it would only be a hindrance.
Asuma’s trench knives buzzed to life, piercing the deadly silence with their hum. “Zabuza Momochi, what business do you have with the Hidden Leaf?”
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Comments
Eternal Yujin
I'm glad you enjoyed it. I purposefully started the chapter in the manner that I did so that there was a deeper level to the killing than just killing. Things will only escalate here in terms of morality. Choji and Naruto successfully convinced themselves of something they knew was wrong before the mission but it didn't work. Naruto opted to switch his brain off and yet Choji just couldn't. Hinata's view on things is clear enough last chapter and she hasn't seen enough of the shinobi world to really feel bad yet. In a sense, she's right because looking at the mission in isolation, the rogues are getting their just desserts. However, you can't apply that logic to every situation and if you do, that makes you just as bad. Again, I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter! I can tell a lot of people might feel let down by “needlessly" bringing Zabuza onto Naruto's mission, but there's a reason for it that will be revealed by Chapter 35. Let me just say that this has been more set up than it seems lol.
Jordan Lam
MAN, what a chapter. I feel sappy for saying it, but the conversation at the start of the chapter really did a lot to set the tone on a chapter that could've been interpreted differently. It's setup, for the chapter and moving forward in the story; for us to think about this story's vision - your vision - of the Cycle of Hatred. It's easy to hate, and doubly easy for these people that have been born into this world to kill. It shouldn't be, but it is, and there's always going to be a conflicting hollowness within the cycle going forward in some shape or form. Idk I just love the tone lmao
Vincent Mason
Oh. Oh that shit escalated even quicker than I'd expected.
