Naruto: Faint Smile - CH 82

[Uchiha Shisui - POV.]

I watched as the beast slowly began to change. My breath hitched, my body trembling as Takeshi—no, the monster—started to revert. His massive, grotesque form—lion’s head, ram horns, claws, snake-like tail—shifted and twisted, shrinking, morphing back into something human. His claws retracted, fur disappearing, and the monstrous features melted away, slowly revealing the Takeshi I remembered.

It... it had worked.

I smiled, my vision blurring as exhaustion overtook me. My knees buckled beneath me, and I collapsed, gasping for breath. My body felt like it had been through hell—every muscle screaming, chakra completely depleted. The strain of using both my Mangekyo Sharingan for the first time, especially the power of my left eye, had taken everything out of me. I could barely keep my eyes open, the world spinning around me, my vision flickering in and out.

‘I did it… Takeshi’s back.’ 

The black creature, who had been fueling my chakra until the last moment, emerged from the shadows. “Impressive,” it muttered, almost to itself, as if genuinely amazed. “Those eyes of yours… the power to overwrite the will of a monster like that.” He paused, studying me. “Quite a fearsome ability… though it seems there’s a limit to how often you can use that particular power.”

I wanted to respond, to get back on my feet—after all, the fight was still not over—but I couldn’t. My body was completely drained of energy, leaving me useless. I could barely even move my fingers.

Suddenly, a shadow loomed over me. I blinked, forcing my vision to clear, and saw the Masked Man standing in front of me—or at least, what was left of him. He was missing both arms, and one of his legs had been torn off at the knee. His eye, the only visible part of his face, stared down at me with cold calculation.

"Good job dealing with that monster, brat," he said, his voice flat, almost matter-of-fact. "Now it’s time for both of you to die."

I cursed myself silently. I had been so focused on saving Takeshi that I forgot what would happen once I did, that I… forgot about them. The enemy. Of course, they were going to kill us. How could I have been so stupid? Now that the threat was over, we were nothing but loose ends, liabilities they couldn’t allow.

My muscles tensed, but my body wouldn’t move. ‘Damn it!’ My chakra was gone, I had no energy left. I couldn’t even defend myself. Both mind and body had been pushed to their limits.

The black creature nodded. “You’re right… these two represent a threat far too great to be allowed to exist.”

I heard a faint sound—a subtle shift in the air—and out of the corner of my eye, I saw it: a wooden-like stake, protruding from the creature’s black finger, hurtling toward me with blinding speed.

I couldn’t move. I couldn’t even blink. This was it. I was going to die here.

But then—something changed.

Before the stake could hit, I felt a sudden rush of air, and in the blink of an eye, someone grabbed me, pulling me out of the way. It was so fast, faster than even the black creature could react. My head spun, trying to make sense of what had happened. My vision was too blurred to see clearly, but I tried to focus on the figure holding me.

‘Takeshi?’ 

I blinked again, squinting through the haze. It was Takeshi… but something was off. There was a calmness in his expression that didn’t fit the Takeshi I knew. Sure, Takeshi was always calm, but this… was different.

“Don’t worry,” Takeshi, or the Takeshi lookalike, said softly, patting my head like I was a child, even though I was older than them or whoever they were pretending to be. “Takeshi might not say it, but he really cares about you.”

The voice was gentle, reassuring, and while it sounded like Takeshi, I knew it wasn’t him.

“Though… his favorites are Mito and Itachi, but still… top three, not bad. No no, wait, his cat is top three, still top four isn’t that bad.”

Okay, that was uncalled for.

———————————————————————————————————

[Takeshi / Teresa - POV.]

I stood there, looking at the maimed Masked Man and the Black Creature with a faint smile playing on my lips. It was odd being in a body so small, compared to my own at least. Takeshi’s body was strong, quite sturdy, but nothing like the one I was used to. I could feel the limitations in every muscle, the tension in each movement. Still, it wasn’t entirely unpleasant—just… different.

The Black Creature tilted its head, eyeing me with a mix of suspicion and curiosity. “Who are you?” It wasn’t a question; it was a demand. Even in that flat, emotionless tone, I could sense the unease. He noticed. There was something off about me—about Takeshi.

I smiled wider, letting the silence stretch, enjoying the tension in the air. “My my, what terrible manners you have. Don’t you know it’s rude to ask for someone’s name without first giving your own?” I replied in a taunting manner, tilting my head.

My neck felt stiff. I rolled my shoulders back, casually cracking my neck and shoulders, stretching out as if I had just woken up from a long nap. My gaze flicked to Shisui, who had fallen unconscious and slumped against me. Poor kid had given everything for his friend. Admirable, but foolish. Humans never knew when to stop. But… I was glad he didn’t give up.

I was… quite attached to Takeshi, and having him turn into an Abyssal One wasn’t something I wanted.

"Hm, he really needs to improve his flexibility… everything feels stiff," I muttered, watching as, from the ground, a white creature appeared right beside the Masked Man, its body shifting and twisting unnaturally as it slid over to him. In an eerie display, the creature extended its own limbs, white and gooey, attaching them to the Masked Man’s stumps where his arms and leg had been severed. In mere seconds, his limbs were restored, good as new—or as close as they could be.

Impressive. Not quite the regeneration I was used to dealing with, but I suppose it was functional enough. Very similar to a Claymore attaching the limbs of their comrades to themselves, but somehow… worse.

Shrugging, I continued stretching, getting a feel for Takeshi’s smaller body, when the Masked Man moved to attack. His newly acquired limbs flexed as he launched himself toward me, faster than most could track. But to me, it was child’s play. I sidestepped easily, carrying Shisui with me, dodging not only his attack but the attack of the Black Creature who thought he could hide from me by merging with the energy of the environment.

“Hmm,” I mused aloud, a faint smile on my lips. “This body isn’t nearly as graceful as mine, but I will manage. That being said, I’m not used to fighting without a claymore.” I glanced down at my hands, flexing them slowly. Chakra was quite a peculiar thing; it seemed to nourish the body so much that a simple kid could match the strength of an adult with relative ease.

If Takeshi was born in my world, in my generation with this power, he would’ve surpassed me before his first decade. All he would have needed was experience.

“My apologies, but wouldn’t you two know where I dropped my claymore?” As I asked that question, a thought crossed my mind, and I smiled to myself. “I wonder…” I said quietly, almost to myself, but loud enough for them to hear. “Can I summon it?”

I’d seen Takeshi do it countless times. After he asked someone to put a summoning seal on his blade, in case he ever got separated from it.

From what I remembered, the jutsu was nothing but some simple hand signs and movements, and a bit of chakra. It wasn’t something I’d ever done personally, but it looked easy enough. With a shrug, I shifted Shisui to my side and performed the hand signs Takeshi used when summoning his blade during practice. I focused the chakra, just like he did—and imagined the weight of my claymore in my hands.

And just like that, on the first try, I felt it—a sudden burst of energy. Smoke erupted from my hand, and when it cleared, my beloved claymore was there, resting comfortably in my grip. Chakra worked very similarly to a Claymore’s Yoki, but it was much… much easier to control.

Yoki, on training wheels?

I chuckled softly at the thought, admiring the blade. “Now, that’s better.” I gave it a quick spin, testing its balance. Takeshi’s father really crafted a fine blade.

The Masked Man’s eye narrowed behind his mask, his posture tense.

I grinned at them both, the blade resting casually on my shoulder. “Let’s see how well the number one fares in this world, shall we?”

I stood there, my claymore resting lazily on my shoulder, watching as the Masked Man moved to attack once more. His energy flickered in and out, meaning he was intangible, as he approached. Based on what I knew about this guy, this was a predictable strategy . His plan of attack was likely to materialize at the last second, giving him the perfect moment to strike when his opponent couldn’t fully react.

That seemed like a fun experiment.

Calmly, I waited for the man to reach me, my grip steady on the hilt of the claymore, my gaze locked onto him. Considering his strategy, the timing of my attack was everything, so all I had to do… was strike right as he attacked, not a moment earlier, not a moment after.

As the man neared, his hand inches away from my throat, the air shifted, his presence suddenly solid as I felt the faintest brush against my skin, the graze of his form materializing. The moment he became tangible, my body moved, using Irene’s Quicksword. With a single fluid motion, I swung the blade upward. I felt it connect, slicing through his hand, severing it cleanly from his body before the Masked Man had time to phase again. White goo sprayed in an arc, his severed hand flying into the air.

I followed through with the strike, my blade whistling through the air toward his neck, aiming to take his head clean off.

But he managed to dodge at the last second. The tip of the claymore grazed his throat, leaving a shallow cut just below the mask. Blood dripped down his neck, his breath caught somewhere between shock and fury.

I clicked my tongue, flicking the blood off my blade with a casual motion as I watched him stagger back, his energy flickering in and out once more.

“He really needs to improve his flexibility. If this body weren’t so stiff,” I mused aloud, stretching my arms a little to work out the kinks, “I would’ve taken your head clean off.” I smiled faintly, rolling my shoulders. “A pity, really.”

The Masked Man’s eye burned with cold fury, but I could see it now—the hesitation. He was no longer sure he could kill Takeshi or his friend.

—————————————————————————————————-

[Uchiha Obito - POV.]

I touched the cut on my neck, my fingers coming away slick with blood. I gritted my teeth, feeling the sting of it, but the pain was nothing compared to the frustration boiling inside me. First the beast—that thing—and now this. The brat—Takeshi—had changed, and not in the way I had expected. He was somehow keeping me on the defensive, forcing me to react instead of controlling the flow of the fight.

There was something different about him. Something off. The way he moved, the way he fought—it wasn’t the same boy I nearly killed earlier. His confidence was unnerving, and the casual way he handled that blade… it didn’t add up. He was fighting like a veteran. But I didn’t have time to figure it out. Not with my current condition, missing a hand, still recovering from the earlier damage.

I glanced over at Zetsu, who was watching with that unreadable, calculating gaze. “We’re leaving,” I muttered, my voice low and sharp.

Zetsu’s dark figure shifted slightly, and he gave a small nod. “Agreed. There’s no point in continuing this now.”

Takeshi—or whoever was in control of his body—smiled, a slow, deliberate grin that only fueled my frustration further as he raised his hands, clapping slowly, the sound echoing through the forest. “Wonderful,” he said, his voice dripping with mock amusement. “That means I don’t have to take Takeshi’s right to your head after all.”

He spoke so casually, as if my life was an afterthought, like I was some annoyance he had no interest in dealing with.

And then, with a dismissive wave, he added, “Shoo, off you go.”

The arrogance in his voice was enough to make my blood boil, but I wasn’t a fool. I knew when to pull back. I’d seen enough to know this wasn’t the time to fight. Not now. I would get him another day.

Without another word, I turned, phasing out of sight as I warped away into my dimension, my teeth still gritted against the bitter taste of retreat.

——————————————————————————————————-

[Takeshi/Teresa - POV.]

I watched, utterly calm and unbothered, as the Masked Man and his companion vanished, leaving without another word. Their retreat wasn’t surprising. Takeshi was not an easy target, not while I was in control. It was amusing to think how easily I could have ended it if Takeshi’s body was a bit stronger, but a part of me was glad.

That was his fight, not mine. He had a right to end them by himself.

I shifted my gaze to Shisui, slumped on the ground, his breath shallow but steady. His body was wracked with exhaustion, his energy barely noticeable, and yet he still clung to life with that same stubborn determination he tried to save Takeshi. Quite admirable.

I let out a soft sigh, leaning against a nearby tree, my claymore resting beside me. “Hmm, I say… before Takeshi hits puberty, he’ll be more than strong enough to handle those two, so two to three years, not a bad timeframe,” I mused aloud, knowing full well that Takeshi couldn’t hear me. But it was true. With time, the boy’s power would grow. His potential was limitless, especially now that he danced so close to the edge of awakening. Claymores that managed to go back after nearly awakening always got a boon of sorts.

As I continued to muse about that, a flicker of chakra signatures caught my attention, approaching quickly from the east. Familiar ones, too. Takeshi’s memories whispered to me, recognizing the presences of his comrades, his allies. They were on their way, it seemed like a big group, fourteen people.

Good.

The brats needed medical attention. All of them.

I sighed again, stretching Takeshi’s arms and legs out, giving one last, lazy glance toward the horizon, before I sat down, resting Takeshi’s back against the trunk of the tree. The exhaustion in his mind was catching up to his body. It was time to give the reins back to him.

“Rest easy, kid,” I murmured, letting Takeshi’s body relax as I released control back to its proper owner. His mind was still healing, fragile and unconscious. So, as I slipped away, so did he, falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.