Naruto: Faint Smile - CH 77

[Third Person - POV.]

The masked man’s figure had caught up with him, appearing from the shadows, his single visible eye glowing under the moonlight filtering through his spiral mask. Shisui’s heart pounded in his chest as he stood protectively in front of the Daimyo’s limp body, still under the enemy’s genjutsu. The rest of his friends—elite guards meant to protect the Daimyo—had been defeated, each one taken down in a matter of seconds.

Itachi had collapsed due to chakra exhaustion.

And… Takeshi had died. His throat slit open by the blade of the masked man.

He was alone now.

He had tried to protect them.

He had promised he would protect them. And he had failed, once again, Shisui had failed to save his friends.

At least it seemed he was right… by leaving with the Daimyo alone, the masked man had left the others. He hadn’t killed Itachi or Mukai, he had just incapacitated them.

"You're faster than I expected… for a kid," the masked man said, his voice calm, almost casual, as if this were nothing more than a game. Shisui’s grip tightened on the hilt of his tanto, his hands trembling slightly. The masked man hadn’t moved an inch since he caught up with him, yet Shisui could feel the weight of his presence.

Unlike what most people thought, Shisui wasn’t cocky. He simply knew the reach of his abilities, and that’s why he knew that the shinobi standing in front of him was stronger than him.

'Stay calm. Focus,' he told himself, forcing down the panic and doubt. His Sharingan spun wildly as he tracked every movement, every flicker of muscle beneath the cloak, but it was hard to predict someone who barely moved.

"You can’t protect the Daimyo, just like you couldn’t protect your friend," the masked man continued, taking a step forward. "Hand over the Daimyo, and you can live. You’ve done well enough."

Shisui’s eyes narrowed, ignoring the offer. ‘I would rather die.’ His chakra surged, and in a burst of speed, he vanished, reappearing behind the masked man in a flicker. His tanto slashing downward toward the man's back—only to cut through empty air.

A distorted blur and the masked man reappeared several feet away. The Sharingan caught it, but barely. ‘Just like Sensei’s and Takeshi’s… my attacks phase through him,’ Shisui cursed under his breath. ‘Is this what Takeshi meant when he said the man’s presence was never constant?’ 

The masked man tilted his head, unimpressed. "Such mastery over D-ranked jutsu, impressive." His voice remained flat, cold.

Shisui charged again, darting between the trees, using the Body Flicker technique to keep his movements unpredictable. Each time he reappeared, he lashed out—slashes, kicks, anything to force the masked man on the defensive—but every attack phased through him, like striking smoke. This wasn’t working. He had to gather as much information about this enemy, anything at all would do.

Because if he couldn’t stop him, he had to make sure the Village could.

In the brief pause between attacks, Shisui skidded to a stop, panting. His chakra was draining faster than he’d expected, never before had he used his signature Jutsu so much, alongside his Sharingan at full throttle. ‘Damn… how is he doing that?’ His mind raced, trying to piece it together. Each time his strikes landed, there was a slight ripple—a disruption, but not quite physical. A genjutsu? No, the Sharingan would have detected that immediately.

At the speed things were going, he was going to run out of chakra before he could figure out how to deal with the threat. And as much as Shisui wanted to prevent that, he couldn’t do a thing to stop it. The man was fast, forcing him to dodge using the Body Flicker. The gap between their levels of power was big, and Shisui was being forced to drain his stamina and chakra just to close the gap a little.

The masked man remained perfectly still, his eye boring into Shisui’s. "Are you truly willing to die for a man that would never do the same for you?" He took another slow step, and Shisui tensed. "You can’t stop me, you can’t hit me. You are throwing away your life… for absolutely nothing."

Shisui gritted his teeth. He couldn’t afford to waste more time. As things were going, he was going to lose, and every second spent fighting drained more of his already depleted chakra. ‘I still lack mastery over this… but this is my only chance.’ At this, his eyes began to burn, bleeding as he glared at the man, the pattern of his eye changing as he shouted inwardly—Mangekyo Sharingan! This was a risky move. Shisui knew that. For one, he wasn’t sure he could land his technique, or how much chakra his Mangekyo would consume in battle or after using his Kotoamatsukami on a real target, instead of a summon, a target that just so happened to be stronger than him. But as things were, this was his best shot.

The masked man moved suddenly, faster than before, closing the gap between them in an instant. Shisui barely had time to react. He flickered away just as the man’s hand reached out to grab him, the space he had occupied mere moments ago warping. He felt a gust of air as he materialized several feet away, his back pressed against a tree.

'This is bad,' Shisui thought.

The masked man turned toward him, his voice steady. "Running won’t save you."

Shisui’s Mangekyo Sharingan spun faster, his mind racing for a plan. His right eye could insert suggestive thoughts into his target, and he needed an opening—just one. The masked man closed the distance again, and this time, Shisui didn't retreat. He charged head-on, his eyes locking with the masked man’s figure. As he neared, he focused most of his chakra into his right eye.

—Kotoamatsukami!— 

For a split second, Shisui saw the masked man’s movements slow. His figure flickered, just barely—a hesitation. But before the genjutsu could take hold, a sharp pain shot through Shisui’s eye as he felt something… someone grab his leg, a black creature with yellow eyes, draining most of his remaining chakra in an instant before Shisui could cut its hand, breaking free. His vision blurred as he staggered back, clutching his face, gasping for breath. ‘He wasn’t alone?!’

"You almost died..." The black creature cackled, his gaze on the masked man.

The masked man didn’t reply, ignoring the black creature, as his arm reached out for Shisui, and this time, unable to dodge, his body still dealing with the exhaustion of having used his Mangekyo, Shisui found the man’s fingers wrapped around his throat, lifting him off the ground effortlessly.

"To think a mere child would have the Mangekyo, and not only that... but a visual technique of this level," the masked man said, his voice just above a whisper. "Though… I have to say… I have no idea what your eyes do." His grip tightened, cutting off Shisui’s air.

Shisui’s feet kicked uselessly as he gasped. He still had some chakra, not enough to use his Mangekyo again, but enough to keep fighting, even if just for a little. Summoning every ounce of strength he could, he bit the man’s hand, before using the Body Flicker, twisting free from the masked man’s grip. He hit the ground hard, rolling away and landing in a crouch, struggling to stay on his feet.

The masked man didn’t follow. "Your eyes are wasted on you. I will make better use of them."

As Shisui staggered back, breath ragged and vision blurring, the masked man closed in, every step deliberate and slow, as if to mock him. Shisui’s mind raced, struggling to find a way out, some tactic that might give him even a sliver of hope. But nothing came. His chakra reserves were nearly drained, and while he could probably delay his death a minute or two, at the end... he would still die.

Then it hit.

Without warning, the world around them seemed to shudder, a pulse of energy rippling through the air, as though the very earth had taken a breath. The trees quivered violently, their leaves rustling as if trying to escape the sudden, suffocating presence. A malevolent chakra exploded from the distance, a wave of raw, unfiltered energy that surged across the forest like a violent storm.

Shisui’s legs almost buckled beneath him as the chakra rolled through his body, assaulting his senses. It was cold—colder than anything he’d ever felt. But not the cold of winter, not the simple chill of the night. No, this was something else. Something animalistic, feral, violent, and most of all, hungry. It felt like a primal force, darker than any killing intent he had ever sensed before, even more so than the Kyubi itself. It clawed at him, sinking deep into his skin, bypassing all barriers of willpower, demanding submission and fear.

His heart pounded faster, his instincts screaming. ‘What is this?!’ His eyes flickered desperately, trying to make sense of it, but it wasn’t something that could be seen or tracked. It was everywhere, heavy and

 oppressive, like a predator watching from all directions at once. Every fiber of Shisui's being wanted to recoil from it, to run, but his legs felt frozen.

Even the masked man paused. His lone eye flicked upward, scanning the horizon as if searching for the source of the surge. There was a slight tilt to his head, the tiniest hesitation—a moment of silence that spoke volumes. Whoever—no... whatever—was responsible for this chakra, it had even him on alert.

Birds scattered, animals fled—every living creature ran, as if they were running from a fire, because they could feel it as well. Even those without the gift of sensing chakra would have been aware of this presence, so overpowering and all-consuming that it seeped into every corner of the forest, leaving no space for hope, for reason.

The chakra wasn’t just powerful—it was hateful. It carried with it an unmistakable malice, an intent to destroy, to ravage, to devour. It felt almost sentient, as though the very energy had a will of its own, a desire to tear apart everything in its path, to consume everything. And within that dark pulse, there was something deeply wrong—something far beyond normal rage. It was twisted, feral, as if the chakra itself were no longer bound by the consciousness of the one releasing it.

Shisui’s skin crawled. His breath hitched. This was far worse than the killing intent he had sensed from any shinobi before, far more than he had felt from the Nine Tails.

His heart hammered in his chest, and for a moment, he wasn’t sure if the trembling he felt was from fear or the sheer force of the chakra crashing against him.

The masked man’s voice broke the suffocating silence, cold but edged with something new, something closer to curiosity—or wariness. “What… is that?”

Almost as if to answer his question, the air grew impossibly still, leaving nothing but deafening silence and the overwhelming sensation of this malignant chakra. Then, without warning, it pierced the quiet.

A sound—no, not a sound—a roar erupted from deep within the forest, shaking the very core of the land. It wasn’t the roar of a beast or any animal Shisui had ever heard. It was deeper, more guttural, raw and primal in a way that defied nature. There was something inhuman about it, a howl that rumbled through the earth, vibrating through Shisui’s bones, rattling his soul. It was as if the roar came from a place beyond, from something that should not exist.

The roar carried with it more than just sound—it carried hunger. It resonated with the vile chakra, intensifying its overwhelming presence. Shisui’s heart hammered in his chest, and for a moment, he forgot about the masked man entirely. Everything else seemed to fade into the background. There was only that sound, that chakra, both reverberating through his mind, drowning out reason and instinct alike.

Despite his fear, Shisui understood something. The roar was a warning. A declaration.

Whatever was coming—it wanted blood. And it was letting every living being around know it would get it.

Even the masked man, for all his confidence, seemed still, his lone eye narrowing ever so slightly. Shisui could see a flicker of something in the man’s stance, something he hadn’t seen before—a recognition of danger.

"It’s coming." The black creature that had stopped him a few moments ago spoke, and despite his lack of features, Shisui could see the overwhelming sensation of confusion on its featureless face.