Naruto: Faint Smile - CH 79

[Third Person - POV.]

Shisui's vision wavered as the oppressive chakra continued to smother the forest, his mind struggling to keep up with the sudden shift in the air. The masked man had already begun to turn, his focus shifting from Shisui to something unseen, when the black creature—the one who had interrupted his fight with the masked man—spoke again, this time more urgent.

"You have to leave. Right now," it hissed, its tone stripped of any calm, tinged with something close to worry.

For the first time, the masked man didn’t move immediately. His single eye lingered on the forest for a fraction longer than before, calculating, weighing something. The silence stretched painfully until, slowly, the masked man’s attention shifted completely away from the forest and back to the black creature.

However, by the time he did so, there was something standing in front of him now.

Shisui hadn’t seen any type of movement—if it could even be called that. The beast had appeared so fast, and so suddenly, it might as well have teleported. One moment, the path ahead was clear, and the next, this... monster loomed there, as though the air itself had solidified into something monstrous.

The beast stood crouched, its grotesque form towering above them all, casting a massive shadow over the forest floor, looking at the masked man like a cat watching a mouse. A massive lion-like head with ram horns, fangs gleaming with saliva, snarled as it fixed its gaze on the masked man. Its breath came in slow, steady, and hot enough to be seen, each exhale accompanied by a low, menacing growl. Its fur bristled, and the patches of red-scaled skin across its body glowed dimly beneath the forest light. On its back, a grotesque tail, a serpent, hissed and twisted, its glowing eyes reflecting the same malevolent hunger.

The masked man didn’t flinch. His eye, however, narrowed ever so slightly.

“…So this is what caused the chakra surge,” he murmured, a note of intrigue mixed with something else. Something like hesitation.

The black creature, Zetsu, materialized from the ground near his feet. "You can’t fight this. Not now," it urged again, its voice lower, more insistent. “Whatever this thing is, it’s very dangerous.”

The beast’s maw twitched, saliva dripping steadily to the forest floor, sizzling as it melted the ground. It crouched lower, playful yet hungry, watching the masked man. “You smell like crap… Does that mean your entrails will taste like crap?”

The masked man, the black creature, and Shisui himself all seemed taken aback by this comment, their expressions giving way to the briefest flicker of something unfamiliar—surprise. The comment hung in the air, unnerving in its casual tone, as if the monster wasn’t threatening to rip them apart but was making mundane conversation.

A low, rumbling chuckle bubbled up from the creature’s throat, the sound deep and unnerving, vibrating through the ground beneath them.

"Doesn't matter," the beast growled, its fanged maw curling into something resembling a grin. "Lady Mikoto always told me… I should finish my meals. Even if they taste like crap."

The words came out slow, deliberate, each one dripping with malice. But for Shisui, the mention of "Lady Mikoto" hit like a lightning strike. There’s only one person who calls her that way consistently.

His heart stopped, a wave of ice shooting through his veins.

"Takeshi?" he whispered, barely audible, as if saying the name would make it untrue. But his Sharingan burned with recognition now, the pieces falling into place with horrifying clarity.

The beast—this grotesque, towering monster—was someone he knew. The friend he had seen die.

This thing in front of him, the one salivating at the idea of devouring the masked man, was Takeshi. His friend, his teammate, his little brother.

What had happened to him? Shisui questioned. Why did his presence feel so malignant, so full of hunger, hatred, and cruelty?

As Shisui tried to work through his mental breakdown, the masked man said nothing, his single visible eye narrowing as if processing the threat the beast represented. For a moment, he seemed to consider something, his figure stiffening. Then, without another word, he turned to leave, jumping back as fast as he could, ready to warp away into the safety of his dimension.

But the moment he moved to do so—before he could even process it—pain shot through his body, sharp and sudden.

He was missing an arm.

The masked man blinked, his mind racing to catch up with the situation. —What…?— He hadn’t even seen it happen. His body instinctively phased to avoid further damage, but the realization hit him like a shockwave.

He turned his head slightly, his single eye widening behind the mask as he saw the creature crouched behind him, its massive maw already crunching through something—something crunchy—blood dripping from its fangs, its hungry eyes locked onto him with savage delight. The sound was sickening, bone splintering between its teeth.

“What..?” the masked man muttered, realizing what had happened. The creature had bitten through his arm at the exact moment he had materialized to leave.

It hadn’t been fast—it had been instantaneous, so precise that not even his Sharingan had been able to catch it. Faster than even the Yellow Flash. The masked man stared at the bloodied stump where his arm had once been, the wound eerily clean, severed in a single, impossibly swift bite.

The black creature hissed in alarm beside him, the weight of the situation crashing down. "We need to go! Now!"

———————————-

The beast grinned at them, its fanged maw crunching down on what little remained of the masked man's arm, the grotesque sound of bone splintering filling the suffocating silence of the forest, as it tilted its head, chewing slowly before spitting a chunk of flesh to the ground with a look of disgust.

"Just as I thought," the beast growled, wiping a clawed hand over its mouth, saliva mixing with blood. "You taste like crap, but food is food."

The masked man took a careful step back, his mind calculating as his single eye remained fixed on the creature in front of him. It wasn’t fear—not yet—but a rare sense of caution had settled in. He had been careless. The creature had attacked the moment he had begun to materialize to escape. It had been waiting for that precise moment.

He glanced at the bleeding stump where his arm had been, but there was no time to dwell on the injury—he would get a new arm after he escaped. He knew now that the beast wasn’t just fast but keen enough to know when to strike. It was beyond anything he’d encountered before. His eyes narrowed beneath the mask as he considered his options.

He didn’t have many.

In order to leave, he had to fully materialize—just for a brief moment—to access his dimension. This worked differently from his phasing, leaving him vulnerable. And that was the moment the beast would strike again, far too fast for him to counter or predict. If he tried to escape now, he’d lose far more than just an arm. His best option was to stay intangible. As long as he remained in his phased state, no physical attack could touch him.

But there was a problem with this strategy. He couldn’t stay intangible indefinitely. His limit was five minutes, and the beast would likely strike the moment he returned to solid form.

—Five minutes. That’s all I have.—

The beast grinned, as if sensing his hesitation, its glowing eyes burning with cruel, animalistic hunger. It licked the blood from its lips, amused by the masked man’s expression. “I wonder if this classifies as playing with your food.”

The masked man’s mind raced, analyzing every angle, every move, every possibility. The five-minute timer had already begun ticking in his head. —I can't stay intangible forever... and it’s waiting for me to make a mistake.— He could feel the beast's gaze burning into him, sensing his every hesitation. He had to think fast.

Then, something clicked—a piece of information that might give him a sliver of control over this situation.

“Takeshi.”

Shisui had whispered that name in horror, realizing the beast’s identity. The boy’s reaction had been unmistakable. This wasn’t just any monster—this creature had once been human, the very kid he had thought he had killed. And maybe, just maybe, that could be his way out.

With a deliberate turn of his head, the masked man’s eye shifted to Shisui. “Takeshi, was it?” His eye glinted with a calculating light, and his words were slow, deliberate. “Don’t you care if your little friend dies?”

Shisui's eyes widened.

“Let me leave… and I will let your friend live. A fair exchange, if you ask me…” the masked man added.

But the beast, Takeshi—or whatever remained of him—didn’t even flinch.

The lion-like head slowly turned toward the masked man, its saliva-soaked fangs glistening as it watched him with a look that could only be described as disdain. The slow, rhythmic growl from its throat deepened, more amused than enraged.

And then it spoke, its voice a deep, guttural rumble filled with dark amusement.

“Not only do you taste like crap, but you are full of crap as well. Oh my, you really think I care about that?” It chuckled, its maw parting into a grotesque grin. “What a joke.”

It was here, at this very moment where everyone present became aware of something, something very important. And that was the fact that the mask of humanity had long since fallen away from Takeshi— and there was nothing left inside of him besides hunger, instinct, and the need to devour.