Naruto: Curse Eater

Akai shut the door behind him with a quiet click, exhaling slowly.

"What a mess..." he muttered, surveying the wreckage. The curses were gone, their bodies erased as if they had never existed, but the aftermath remained—slashed furniture, kunai scattered across the floor, and bedding tossed into disarray. The streaks of purple blood that had splattered the walls earlier had vanished without a trace.

"Curses clean up after themselves a few moments after they're killed," he murmured, absently noting the detail as he flipped open a small notebook. A pen rested in his other hand, gliding across the page with practiced ease. Once finished, he clicked the pen shut, tossing both onto his desk—the same desk that had been stained purple with blood just moments ago.

With a tired sigh, he ran a hand through his hair and headed for the bathroom.

Inside, one curse remained—the toothbrush tsukumogami. It lay in the sink, twitching weakly, its bristles gnashing together like tiny, desperate teeth.

Akai clicked his tongue. "Persistent little shit."

Without hesitation, he pulled a kunai from his sleeve and stabbed it. Shluk. A splatter of purple. The toothbrush jerked violently but didn't die, still twitching like a struggling insect.

Akai looked at it with a hint of disgust, it reminded him even more of the curses he fought before. "Worm."

Takahiro's words echoed in his head. Look at yourself in the mirror.

His hands stilled. Slowly, he glanced up. Then, hesitantly, he grabbed a stool, stepped onto it, and leaned forward, gripping the sink for balance.

And froze.

His right eye wasn't black anymore. It was red.

His breath caught. "...Hah?"

He leaned closer, fingers hovering near his cheek as if touching his face would somehow change what he was seeing. It almost looked like a Sharingan—but it wasn't. There was no pupil, no tomoe, nothing but an unnatural, solid red.

His brows furrowed. "This isn't—" He stopped himself, biting the inside of his cheek.

There was no need to finish the thought. He already knew.

If a Hyuga and an Uchiha banged... He grimaced. "Tch. What the hell am I even thinking about?" He shook his head, dismissing the ridiculous notion, and shut his eyes for a moment.

Blub blub blub blub blub.

His eyelids snapped open. Oh, right. The damn toothbrush.

Akai turned to look at the writhing curse. It screeched and chomped wildly, refusing to die even as water streamed over it. He let out a low chuckle. "What, you don't like drowning?" He tilted his head. "Sucks, doesn't it?" The bubbling, muffled screeches continued as he absently flicked his fingers, letting his mind wander.

He thought back to the fight, to the way his body moved without hesitation, to the unnatural hunger that overtook him. He wanted to survive—that much was clear. But there was no reason for him to eat them. No reason to tear them apart and swallow them like a wild animal.

His fingers twitched against the sink. Something was... off.

A faint, crimson wisp curled from his hand. Translucent, but unmistakably there. It moved like smoke, weightless and slow, but the edges were different—inky black, shifting like the lines of an unfinished drawing.

His heart thudded once. "...What the hell is this?" His voice was barely above a whisper. He flexed his fingers, watching the wisps curl and stretch. This isn't chakra. He knew that instinctively. He activated his Byakugan, staring at the smoke-like energy in fascination.

It was similar to the curses. Too similar. His gaze flickered to the toothbrush tsukumogami still struggling under the running water. It feels like them... That realization sent a strange chill through his spine.

Boiling water—that's how chakra works. It condenses when controlled properly. But this? This was different. "Feels more like warm smoke..." he muttered, waving his hand experimentally. The cursed energy didn't disappear, didn't fade away like chakra did when dispersed. It clung to him, weightless but persistent.

His thoughts trailed back to Takahiro. That old bastard punched him in the head once while explaining chakra control. Something about how energy was shaped. How it was used. Akai tried to recall the sensation, the principle behind it. And then—

The cursed energy vanished. Just like that.

Akai blinked. "Wait... was that—?"

He clenched and unclenched his fist, trying to summon it back. Nothing. But something lingered—a shift, faint but undeniable, like the ghost of a sensation just out of reach.

His grip on the sink tightened. It's… emotions, isn't it? That had to be it. The curses in his room had fed on words—inky, dripping insults that had formed above his bed. Defect. Trash. Useless. They had thrived on negativity, on malice given shape.

He exhaled, rolling his shoulders. He wasn't the sentimental type. His emotions were always in check. But if cursed energy fed on negativity…

A smirk tugged at his lips. "So it's the same as the energy those things are made of?" He flexed his fingers, exhaling softly. "Cursed energy." The name fit.

His gaze flicked to the toothbrush tsukumogami, still gurgling weakly in the sink.

"Yeah, yeah. Just die already."

He shut off the faucet, plucked the squirming thing up, and crushed it between his fingers. Splrtch. The curse let out a pitiful shudder before turning into a bloody purple mess.

Akai flicked his hand dry, eyes returning to his own reflection.

"Guess I'll have to figure out how to use this properly." It took a while for the curse to dissapear, while it still wringle somehow, the urges is back. Slowly he took that toothbrush to his face, and later, a loud chomp echoed,

"Again... I ate a cursed spirit, am I crazy?" Though he said that to himself, his mouth was full from tearing and biting the screeching thing before swallowing. Akai look at his own reflection again in the mirror, mostly he would've had Hemoptysis and stained his lips bright red, but now it was replaced by a bloody purple. Not blood from his body, but from outside, which he ate like a mad man.

It didn't even taste good, he simply can't stop the urge to do it.

A smirk tugged at his lips. "So it's the same as the energy those things are made of?"

He flexed his fingers, testing the lingering sensation in his palm, before exhaling softly. "Cursed energy." The name felt right, natural—like something that had always been a part of him, just waiting to be recognized.

His gaze flicked to the toothbrush tsukumogami, still gurgling weakly in the sink, its bristles twitching in a final, pitiful attempt to bite at nothing.

"Yeah, yeah. Just die already."

With an absentminded flick, he shut off the faucet, plucked the cursed object from the sink, and crushed it between his fingers. Splrtch. The thing let out a feeble shudder before collapsing into a pulpy, violet mess.

Akai wiped his hand dry, but his eyes remained locked onto his reflection.

"Guess I'll have to figure out how to use this properly."

Yet, as he watched the curse's remains wriggle on the counter, a familiar sensation crept in—the same hunger as before. It started as a whisper at the back of his mind, an itch he couldn't quite place, until his fingers, moving on instinct, brought the dying creature to his face.

A loud chomp echoed through the bathroom.

He stilled. His breathing was slow, deliberate, but his mind reeled.

"Again... I ate a cursed spirit. Am I crazy?"

The question left his lips, muffled by the torn, screeching mass he was still chewing. The texture was as awful as ever—gritty, bitter, wrong—but he swallowed anyway, his body acting before his thoughts could catch up.

Akai looked at his reflection again.

Normally, he'd be coughing up blood by now, his lips painted bright red with his own weakness. But this time, the stain wasn't his.

It was purple.

Not blood from within, but from outside—something foreign, something other, consumed like it was meant to be his.

It didn't even taste good.

And yet, he couldn't stop.

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With nothing else to do, Akai reached for the bowl of ramen he had bought earlier and sat at his desk. It was still warm, but the once-steaming aroma had faded. Takeout never tasted as good as eating fresh at the stall.

"Should've just eaten it there... but whatever."

He muttered under his breath before digging in. The warmth spread through him, grounding him. As he finished the last bite, his gaze drifted to the shelves, landing on a pair of scrolls collecting dust. He hadn't touched them in a while—not since he realized his chakra reserves were too weak to put any of it into practice.

One was the Gentle Fist Taijutsu Guide. The other, a medical ninjutsu manual.

Mystical Palm Technique. A healing jutsu that, in theory, should be common knowledge among shinobi. But different villages had developed their own variations, keeping their applications secret from one another. Even Konoha's version was notoriously difficult to master—so much so that failing to control the chakra properly could send the user into a coma.

His fingers brushed over the parchment.

"Healing, huh..."

With a quiet sigh, Akai tucked both scrolls under his arm and stepped outside.

The stone path was cool beneath his sandals as he made his way toward the Hyuga training hall. Servants passed him by, sneaking glances his way but saying nothing. Just like always.

By the time he arrived, the hall was empty.

"No one's here?"

A rare occurrence, but he wasn't complaining. He slid the door open, stepping onto the polished wooden floor. Neatly lined practice dummies stood at attention, waiting to be battered.

Perfect.

Akai kicked off his sandals and settled onto the floor, cross-legged. Unrolling the Gentle Fist scroll, he skimmed the familiar diagrams. An anatomical illustration of a human figure stared back at him, arms at its sides, palms forward.

His lips curled slightly.

"Basic as hell."

Tiny dots marked key chakra nodes—the tenketsu—scattered throughout the body. He'd seen this a hundred times before. But now, with his newfound understanding of cursed energy, a question gnawed at the back of his mind.

"If chakra flows through the tenketsu... then where does cursed energy flow?"

The thought lingered, circling his brain like a persistent fly. Unlike chakra, which followed structured pathways, cursed energy felt… untamed. Wild. It surged through his body with no clear direction—erratic yet controlled, like emotions barely held in check.

He flexed his fingers, staring at his hands. The strongest sensation always came from his head. Unlike chakra, which spread evenly through the body, cursed energy sharpened his mind the moment he used it. No wonder he had lost control before.

Rubbing his temple, he recalled the suffocating trance-like state he had entered. It was as if someone had pried open his skull and poured something thick and heavy inside.

"Chakra moves in cycles. Cursed energy just… moves."

A scroll slipped from his lap, hitting the floor with a soft thud. He barely noticed. Instead, his attention was locked on the faint tendrils of crimson smoke curling from his fingertips. The energy hovered, translucent and eerie, like a phantom mist.

"Haaah… seriously, what even is this?"

Expelling it was simple, like breathing out. But shaping it? Controlling it like a jutsu? That was another matter entirely.

"Does it even need hand signs?"

He exhaled through his nose, letting the cursed energy dissolve before forming a standard horse seal. Snap. His fingers moved with precision, chakra flaring as expected—cursed energy, however, barely reacted.

Figures.

He tried again. Adjusted the sequence. Modified the seals. Still, nothing.

"Come on, work with me here—"

Pa!

Frustrated, he clapped his hands together. His eyes widened.

Five jagged tendrils of cursed energy shot outward, flickering like unstable flames before vanishing.

A faint tingling sensation lingered in his fingertips.

"Oh-ho… What was that?"

A slow grin crept onto his lips. He turned his hands over, studying them. The remnants of cursed energy faded like embers caught in the wind. His breathing remained steady, but his thoughts raced.

Five tendrils. Unstable, uncontrolled… but real.

It worked. Kind of.

But before he could test it further, a strange sensation twisted in his stomach.

His hand instinctively pressed against his gut.

"Huh?"

An odd craving stirred within him. A hunger that had nothing to do with food.

"Are there curses nearby?"

The thought surfaced unbidden, sending an uneasy shiver down his spine. He clenched his jaw, forcing himself to push the feeling aside. The craving to consume curses had been happening more frequently. He needed to understand why.

His mind drifted to the brain's inner workings.

Amygdala. Hippocampus. Septal area. Hypothalamus.

Each played a role in processing emotions. If cursed energy rooted itself in the brain, it made sense why it felt so visceral—why it influenced perception and instinct.

But if cursed energy came from the brain…

"What happens if I push it into my eyes?"

A pulse of cursed energy surged through him. Instinctively, he activated his Byakugan.

His vision expanded instantly—360 degrees, walls turning translucent at will.

But something was… off.

Reaching up, he pressed his fingers against his face. The usual bulging veins of the Byakugan were absent. And yet, his sight remained crystal clear.

Even the other eye—the one he never spoke about—activated without issue.

"Interesting."

He refocused, shifting his gaze to one of the training dummies in the corner. A test.

Stepping forward, he struck at the brachial plexus—the network of nerves in the shoulder, a prime target for paralysis. But this time, instead of just chakra, he mixed in cursed energy.

Crack!

A sharp jolt of pain shot through his hand.

"OW—!"

Blood splattered onto the floor.

Akai staggered back, clutching his throbbing fingers. The damage hadn't transferred to the dummy. Instead, the backlash had hit him.

"So much for my genius idea."

It was that classic cool thing + cool thing = even cooler thing logic. The kind of thing any idiot would try when discovering a second energy system.

Chakra + Cursed Energy = cooler yet simple overpowered bullshit.

Yeah. That hadn't worked out.

His gaze flicked to the unopened scroll beside the mess of parchment he'd left scattered on the floor. Mystic Palm. A healing jutsu. Right. He should've learned that first. He hesitated. Healing.

The word hummed in his mind.

hakra was versatile—far more than cursed energy. But if cursed energy was inherently negative, then healing was out of the question.

Still, it made sense now. Cursed energy and chakra weren't opposites—they were simply conflicting forces. They didn't cancel each other out; they simply clashes with each other.

Instead of addition… it supposed to be subtraction.

If "chakra + cursed energy = nothing", then "chakra - cursed energy should be equals to strengthened chakra. The other way around should done the same, "Cursed energy - Chakra = streghtened Cursed energy"

And sure enough—BOOM.

With he used that principle and pressed on the training dummy, it exploded. Akai blinked at the mess. Bits of shredded fabric and stuffing floated lazily to the floor.

He had aimed for internal damage, like a Gentle Fist strike. Instead, he had blown the thing apart.

This wasn't Gentle Fist anymore.

He stared at his hand, then at the ruined dummy. A slow, amused chuckle escaped him.

"That's not Gentle Fist anymore."

This was just Destruction Fist.

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To be continued