Naruto: Curse Eater

Noisy, how nice- Akai thought as he saw merchants shouting over one another to advertise their wares, children darting past in bursts of laughter, and the rhythmic clatter of wooden sandals echoing against the stone streets. The air smelled faintly of grilled skewers and freshly baked taiyaki, mingling with the crisp scent of early morning.

Elder Takahiro's geta struck the ground in firm, deliberate beats, his arms locked in their usual crossed position. The dark blue fabric of his haori shifted with his movements, layered over the crisp white of his nagagi. 

Deep lines creased his forehead, his expression stuck somewhere between a frown and outright irritation. Under his breath, he muttered something unintelligible, though the tone was unmistakably grumpy.

Beside him, Akai matched his pace, effortlessly now that his heart defect had shrank, his own white robes swaying slightly with each step. His pale face remained as unreadable as ever, crimson-stained lips now wiped clean, making his usual neutral expression seem even more detached. He was preoccupied—mentally noting the presence of curse spirits that hadn't yet made it into his journal, silently naming them as he went.

Then, without warning, he turned to Takahiro and asked, "Are you okay, Elder? Do you have constipation?"

For a brief second, Takahiro's forehead twitched so violently that it nearly spelled out a "💢."

His jaw tightened. A slow inhale. A scoff. He turned his head slightly, side-eyeing Akai with a look that could curdle milk. "Seriously, if I ran off right now, you'd get lost in an instant. Then what? I'd have to send a search party for a half-dead brat crawling back to the compound."

Akai remained unfazed. "Ok."

A vein throbbed at Takahiro's temple. "If you feel even a shred of guilt, train harder so you won't be a burden."

"Okay," Akai responded, tone as flat as ever.

Takahiro's fingers curled against the sleeves of his haori. "Quit that blank-faced 'ok-ing' everything. It's irritating."

Akai tilted his head slightly. "Okay."

A tense pause stretched between them. Then—

"So… do you have constipation?"

Takahiro groaned, exhaling through his nose as if physically restraining himself. His fingers pressed deeper into the fabric of his sleeves. "This brat…!"

The tiniest flicker of amusement ghosted across Akai's expression—less than a smirk, but there, lingering at the corners of his lips. He masked it almost immediately, his face slipping into something disturbingly innocent.

And then, as if sealing his fate, he went, "✨✨✨." at the elder's face.

Takahiro stopped walking. His forehead twitched. His veins practically bulged.

Though Akai had meant well—constipation was a serious issue, after all—his execution made it look an awful lot like mockery.

Takahiro didn't snap. Instead, he scoffed, voice laced with mockery of his own. "Your parents abandoned you. That makes you an orphan."

Akai blinked without any hint of getting hurt or offended.

Without the cursed spirits clinging to him, something dulled the insults—whether it was his hatred, his resentment, or something else entirely. Whatever it was, Takahiro's words felt weightless.

Still, the mention of his parents brought another thought to mind.

"Speaking of that," he said, tone as steady as ever, "Am I going to enroll in the Ninja Academy? I heard people say I was too weak."

Takahiro scoffed. "You are weak."

"So… does that mean I'm going?"

"Did I say that?"

"So, I'm not going?"

"I didn't say that, did I?"

Akai stared at him for a long moment, blinking slowly. Then, as if reaching a conclusion, he said,

"...Ok."

Takahiro groaned even louder, his arms still locked across his chest like he was restraining himself from strangling the boy. "...You brat."

Before he could finish, Akai suddenly spoke.

"Elder, could you kneel for a second?"

Takahiro stopped dead in his tracks, his weathered face scrunching up like he'd just smelled something foul.

"Boy, do you have a death wish? Who asks an elder to kneel?

Akai sighed, unimpressed. "Fine." Then, without another word, he gave a small hop, reaching just high enough to tap Takahiro's shoulder.

To the old man, it just looked like a weird, pointless move. But in reality, Akai had just grabbed a wriggling Fly Head curse that had been weighing on Takahiro's shoulder. He clenched it tightly behind his back, feeling the thing screech and struggle in his grasp.

Takahiro raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing?"

Akai, keeping his face straight, held out his free hand. "A super awesome one tap massage jutsu. That'll be a million Ryo, please."

Takahiro stared at him, completely blank.

Then, very slowly, his expression turned into one of pure, exhausted disbelief. "..."

Akai's other hand, still hidden behind his back, tightened its grip until the Fly Head curse burst into a messy purple mist. He didn't react to the sensation, only keeping his palm open, waiting for his imaginary payment.

"Pay up," Akai said, utterly deadpan.

"Let's go home, you damn brat."

Akai dropped his hand and simply followed, the faintest ghost of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

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Akai and Elder Takahiro continued their walk. Akai took in the scene, his gaze darting from one unfamiliar sight to another.

Akai and Takahiro strode through the bustling marketplace, the elder's arms still firmly crossed as his sharp gaze swept over his surroundings. His lips curled in mild irritation before he scoffed.

"Stop looking around like a lost idiot." His tone carried its usual edge of impatience. "You've read enough books to know what a marketplace is, haven't you?"

Akai's attention shifted to the elder, his expression impassive. I know what a marketplace is, old man, but knowing and experiencing are two different things.

Takahiro's sharp eyes lingered on Akai longer than necessary. His scowl deepened. Hmph. The boy's too curious. It's like he's starving for something outside that cage of a compound. Tch. As if I'd pity him.

"Elder," Akai finally spoke, his voice smooth and composed. "How do I activate the Byakugan?"

Takahiro's brow twitched at the unexpected question. He shot Akai a sideways glance, his usual disdain barely masking something else—perhaps intrigue.

"You don't even know that much?" He let out a derisive chuckle. "And here I thought you were supposed to be a prodigy. What a joke."

Akai merely blinked, unbothered by the insult. "Hm? What are you saying? I'm a defect, am I not?"

Takahiro came to a brief halt, as if only now realizing the words he had so often thrown at the boy. He coughed into his fist before redirecting the conversation. "First, do you even know what chakra is?"

"I do," Akai replied without hesitation.

Takahiro narrowed his eyes. "Then explain it."

Akai stopped in his tracks, turning to meet Takahiro's gaze directly.

"ChakraisametaphysicalenergysubstancethatservesasthefoundationforvarioussupernaturalabilitiesItiscomposedoftwoprimarycomponentsphysicalenergyderivedfromthebodysvitalityandstaminaandspiritualenergywhichoriginatesfromonesconsciousnessandmentalfortitudeTheactofreleasingchakrareferstotheprocessbywhichanindividualextractsrefinesandblendsthesetwoenergysourceswithintheirbodyallowingfortheutilizationofchakrabasedtechniquesandabilities—"

Translation: Chakra is a metaphysical energy substance that serves as the foundation for various supernatural abilities. It is composed of two primary components: physical energy, derived from the body's vitality and stamina, and spiritual energy, which originates from one's consciousness and mental fortitude. The act of releasing chakra refers to the process by which an individual extracts, refines, and blends these two energy sources within their body, allowing for the utilization of chakra-based techniques and abilities.

Takahiro's eye twitched.

Akai finally stopped for breath.

Takahiro let out a deadpan sigh. "You should stop reading only textbooks and actually practice."

This time, Akai was the one holding back his irritation. He resisted the urge to say the typical phrases most children would throw at their guardians—starting with a "But you said (insert boomer advice here)," adding a few "And then you said (insert second boomer advice here)" in the middle, and finishing with "What is it you actually want me to do, old (Man/Hag/dolphin noises)? Pick a lane!"

Akai was a kind-hearted, gentle, and—most importantly—very, very handsome young man. And as such, he did what any virtuous soul would do. He insulted Takahiro—deeply and thoroughly—in the safety of his own heart.

I will work even harder, Elder! I'm sorry for not meeting your expectations!

"You old Fucker"

Takahiro didn't miss a beat. "You're mixing up your words and thoughts, you idiot."

"…"

"…"

Akai, ever the picture of innocence, placed a hand over his chest. "It is your imagination, respectable Elder Takahiro-sama. Please do not mind your hallucinations. I understand that, as people age, their mental faculties may regress to those of a child, and such delusions are perfectly normal. Even hallucinations are common in the life of an old, dying as—"

Thwack.

A resounding smack landed atop Akai's head. Twin wisps of metaphorical smoke rose—one from Takahiro's hand, the other from Akai's head. Neither flinched.

Takahiro, maintaining his usual scowl, continued as if nothing had happened.

"Your Byakugan activates when you send and circulate chakra to your eyes. Think of it like boiling water. When the pressure rises, control it—don't let it explode, but keep it flowing steadily throughout your body. Do it wrong, and you'll just be an idiot with a headache."

They finally started moving again while Akai nodded thoughtfully. Boiling water, huh? I suppose that's a decent analogy.

They continued walking until Takahiro suddenly stopped and, without warning, shoved a few coins into Akai's hand. "Go buy some food."

Akai blinked down at the money. "...What?"

Takahiro clicked his tongue. "Are you deaf now too? I said buy food."

"What kind of food?" Akai asked, tilting his head.

Takahiro huffed. "Are you incapable of making decisions? Buy whatever a fool like you would eat."

Akai's lips curled slightly in amusement. He placed a thoughtful hand on his chin before his expression shifted into one of exaggerated realization. "Ah! Then I'll buy some forbidden Ninjutsus from Lord Third's library—"

Thwack!

Takahiro's palm landed lightly against the top of Akai's head. It didn't hurt, but the elder's scowl deepened. "I said food, you brat. Now go."

Akai gave a small nod before turning on his heel. As he walked away, he glanced back a few times. He's still standing there, arms crossed, watching me like an old man sending his grandson on his first errand.

Takahiro grumbled under his breath as he observed. Hmph. The kid's never stepped out much. Has he even bought anything for himself before? He exhaled sharply. Might as well teach him something useful.

Akai wandered through the bustling marketplace until his gaze settled on a familiar sign—Ichiraku Ramen. Without hesitation, he stepped inside, placed an order, and within minutes, he was heading back, two neatly packed takeaway portions in hand.

Reaching Takahiro, he wordlessly held up the bags. "Ramen."

The elder spared them a brief glance before nodding. "I suppose that's enough." Without further comment, he turned and resumed walking.

Akai fell in step beside him. "There's some change left."

"Keep it. Consider it your first allowance."

Akai blinked, caught off guard. Allowance? He twirled the coins between his fingers before slipping them into his pocket. "Noted."

As they walked, his thoughts drifted elsewhere. He recalled the surge of chakra coursing through him when his tenketsu had been opened the day before. The memory lingered, pressing against his curiosity.

With quiet focus, he turned his attention inward, searching for that sensation once more.

Slowly, something shifted. A faint pressure built around his left eye, veins bulging as his vision sharpened to an almost painful clarity. Instinctively, he shut his right eye.

The world expanded. Colors became crisper, movements more fluid—overwhelming in their detail. He could see the chakra flowing through people, intricate networks of pathways illuminating his sight like glowing rivers. His field of vision stretched unnaturally, allowing him to perceive things behind him as if he had eyes in every direction. He exhaled, both fascinated and exhilarated. So this is the Byakugan…

As he walked, his gaze occasionally swept over the lurking figures of cursed spirits, grotesque and twisted as ever. He ignored the more menacing ones. No need to start another war with them—last time had been messy enough.

Then, out of curiosity, he opened his right eye.

Something was off.

His perception warped. Time itself seemed to slow, his surroundings filtering into his mind in hyper-detail. A group of women gossiping outside a bathhouse came into view—except now, their lips moved with unsettling precision, every syllable almost readable. This… this isn't the Byakugan, is it?

Before he could dwell on it further, a sharp tch cut through his thoughts.

He turned to Takahiro. "What's wrong? Finally admitting to your constipation, Elder?"

He expected the usual exasperation, a smack, or a scolding. Instead, Takahiro's face was unreadable—stiff, brows drawn together in something that wasn't quite frustration. Was it… concern?

"Stop your Byakugan. Now."

Akai hesitated but obeyed, letting the chakra fade. The veins around his left eye receded, yet Takahiro's expression didn't change.

"Look at yourself in a mirror when you get back," the elder muttered before turning away.

Akai tilted his head. That's ominous.

Takahiro, however, was anything but calm. He had seen it clearly—the crimson hue that overtook Akai's right eye. It wasn't the Byakugan. It lacked tomoe, it didn't spin, but the resemblance was undeniable. A Sharingan… I suppose that's possible, since he's that brat's child.

What unsettled him more was that even after Akai had deactivated his Byakugan, his right eye remained red. As if it was permanently active.

Meanwhile, Akai was experiencing something stranger. Even after cutting off chakra circulation, his perception didn't fully return to normal. It wasn't as extreme as before, but the world still felt slightly… delayed. Time moved just a fraction slower for him, his mind processing things ahead of the present moment. It wasn't much, but if he focused—

Three seconds. I can see three seconds into the future.

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As Akai and Elder Takahiro finally stepped into the Hyuga compound, they were met with stares—curious, disdainful, amused, and hateful. The air was thick with murmurs, whispers traveling between the branch family members and the household servants like a spreading fire. Not even Takahiro's presence deterred them from their gossip.

"The defect actually left his room…"

"I thought he'd be bedridden forever."

"At least Neji isn't a defect like him."

"Look at him, walking around with that mark on full display, as if it were some kind of badge of honor."

A bitter, feminine voice sneered, "He acts all high and mighty, but in the end, he's just like us. He wears the same cage."

From the back, a few male servants exchanged quiet laughter, placing bets on how many steps Akai would take before passing out.

Akai's ears weren't plugged. He heard every single word. But, as always, he ignored it—not out of some dramatic resolve to prove them wrong, nor with the silent promise of a protagonist biding his time for revenge. The truth was much simpler: he didn't give a fuck.

His attention was elsewhere.

Curses.

They infested the compound like parasites, lingering in the spaces between the living. The one-eyed, wingless pigeons had multiplied again, their twisted, malformed bodies fueled by the seething resentment of the branch family. Their hatred had taken shape, and Akai was the only one who could see it.

A soft chuckle left his lips. "Amusing."

His voice was calm, quiet even, yet it carried through the air like a pebble dropped into a still pond. Conversations halted. Faces turned. Even Takahiro, who had been silently observing, stiffened at the word.

The elder is used to the hostility from the branch family, but he hadn't wanted Akai to hear it. He wanted at least the boy's insults to come only from him. Yet, he knew he couldn't reprimand the entire household.

When cruelty becomes routine, when hatred becomes culture, it ceases to be questioned. If everyone participates, it simply becomes the norm.

But now, Akai—meek, fragile, pitiful Akai—was smiling.

Takahiro stopped walking. Akai followed suit hearing the sound of wooden sandals stopped behind him.

The elder turned to him. "What was it that you found amusing?"

Akai tilted his head, considering the question. Then, with a clear voice, he answered: "Well, a flock of wingless caged birds is always amusing."

A silence fell over the compound. The murmurs from before had turned to hushed shock.

Several older servants who had been feigning work faltered, eyes widening as they turned to stare at him. The younger ones—who had been so quick to mock him moments ago—stiffened. Their gazes landed on the boy who refused to cover the very same mark they bore, his striking red eye standing out against his pallid complexion.

Is he insane? Is he provoking the branch family?

Takahiro narrowed his eyes. "You think that is interesting? What about yourself? Don't you think you're the same as them? You're a caged bird too, aren't you?"

He was referring to the mark. But Akai, for once, was dense as a rock.

"Caged? Sure. But a bird?" He raised a brow, genuinely perplexed. "Are you serious, Elder?"

The air grew heavier. Did he just… Was this boy outright rejecting the comparison?

The death stares from the branch members intensified, yet Akai remained utterly unaware of their fury. His attention returned to the wingless curses once again, his gaze sharpening.

"If they do something funny," he murmured, "then I might have to rip their heads off and eat them. I didn't get a taste because I was busy surviving last time, so I wonder what a mindless brain tastes like."

He wasn't thinking about the people around him. Genuinely, he was talking about the curse spirits. To him, it was no different from a child whispering nonsense into an adult's ear, something meant to be brushed off. Surely, Takahiro would dismiss it as childish rambling, at least that's what he thought.

Unfortunately for Akai, he spoke too clearly for that.

A sharp voice rang out from the crowd.

"That damned—!"

Akai turned toward the speaker, but his focus wasn't entirely on them. Instead, his gaze lingered on something else—a small bird perched nearby. At that exact moment, it opened its beak.

For some reason, he found it amusing.

So, naturally, he smiled. A warm, genuine, innocent smile.

"Ah? Did one of the parasites just speak?"

The words were spoken with casual amusement, as if he were making an idle observation. But under the faint glow of his permanently red eye, the effect was anything but reassuring.

The servants froze.

Their pupils shrank. Their throats tightened.

Killing intent.

Their instincts screamed at them, the pressure pressing down like an unseen weight. With that gaze, that presence, that suffocating aura—this was no caged bird anymore.

He was a caged beast.

The older servants averted their eyes immediately, resuming their work with newfound urgency. The younger ones hesitated, stiff and trembling, before hastily following suit. Some moved too fast in their panic, stumbling over baskets, knocking over trays—anything to escape the invisible force pressing down on them.

And Akai?

He stood there, watching their strange reaction, a head full of question marks.

What the hell? The atmosphere had shifted so abruptly. Why is everyone suddenly so busy?

Then, laughter rang out.

"Pfft--- HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!"

A deep, unrestrained chuckle.

Akai turned to find Takahiro laughing.

The elder's shoulders shook, his arms crossed tightly as if trying to contain his amusement.

Akai's confusion deepened. His face practically screamed, What's so funny?

When Takahiro finally calmed down, he wiped a nonexistent tear from his eye. "Hah… That was a good show."

Akai blinked, utterly lost.

The elder exhaled, shaking his head. "You should check yourself in the mirror when you get back to your room."

Then, without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving Akai behind.

Still confused, still processing, and still entirely unaware of what he had just done.

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To be continued.