Naruto: The Beast Within

The day has already started to fade, the sun dipping below the horizon, painting the sky with deep oranges and purples. The gentle, cooling breeze rustles the branches of the trees overhead, the village lights flickering to life in the distance. But Raimu is far too absorbed in his frustration to notice any of it.

He sits alone in the vast, quiet training field, legs crossed and his body slouched, the soft weight of his hoodie hanging loosely over his shoulders. His white hair catches the fading light, shining like strands of starlight against the darkening sky. The golden hue of his eyes, now sharper than ever, reflects the tension inside him, his normally relaxed demeanor nowhere to be found.

For the past hour, he's tried everything—from brute chakra force to calm, controlled pulses. He's even resorted to calling out to them, pleading, but it's as if his chakra beasts don't even recognize him anymore. And for some reason, that thought stings more than anything.

A soft sigh escapes his lips, muffled by the fabric of his hoodie. His voice, usually playful and teasing, now comes out barely above a whisper.

"…You guys really won't come out?" His golden eyes flicker, staring at his open palms, a small shiver running through his body. He hadn't realized it at first, but there's an uncomfortable coldness in his chest. A weight, pressing down on him. The kind that settles into your bones when you're left alone with your thoughts.

He's never felt this disconnected from his creatures before. They've been there for him in every fight, every challenge, even when he didn't want them to be. They felt like a part of him—his friends, his allies. Yet now… they're just absent.

Raimu shifts his gaze, watching the darkening horizon as his golden eyes narrow slightly. He shifts his weight again, rocking back onto his palms.

"No, I'm not going to give up," he mutters, his voice growing more determined.

He can't ignore it anymore. There's something deeper going on here. It's not just about controlling his chakra or calling forth his creatures—it's something personal. Something that's been buried beneath his playful, carefree exterior.

The smile he usually wears—the one that always hides his true thoughts—starts to fade as he slowly leans back, staring up at the sky. He knows this feeling. He's had it before, but this time, it feels different.

"Maybe…" He pauses, closing his eyes, suddenly much quieter than before. "Maybe you guys are mad at me."

The words hang in the air, almost as though they're too heavy to say out loud.

His white hair falls over his eyes as he slouches even more, hands now tucked underneath his head as he stares up into the deepening blue above him. A small part of him wants to blame Iruka, to say that the fight with him messed everything up, but he knows that's not true.

What Iruka said wasn't wrong.

Raimu's entire life has been a series of half-hearted attempts, always too scared to dive into things completely. His relationships, his training, even his dreams of being a true hero—they've always been overshadowed by his fear of failure. He hasn't fully invested in anything, least of all himself.

"…I've been running away, huh?" His voice is soft, barely audible.

He bites his lip, feeling the pressure build inside his chest. There's no escaping it now. The truth is too glaring to ignore. He's afraid. Afraid that if he tries too hard, he'll just fail again, that he'll lose the one thing that's always been there to support him—his creatures.

But now they're not responding.

And it feels like they're not the only ones who've stopped believing in him.

He lowers his gaze, staring at the ground, fingers tightening into the grass below him. The soft rustle of the leaves is the only sound in the air, the world silent and still, as if waiting for him to make the next move.

But he doesn't.

He simply sits there, letting the emotions swirl inside him—fear, doubt, frustration. It all presses on his chest like an invisible weight, harder and heavier with every passing second.

"I… I don't want to lose them. I don't want to lose myself." The words spill from his lips, raw and unfiltered. He finally lets the truth out. The truth he's been avoiding for so long.

He lifts his head, staring at the distant trees as the wind picks up, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I've always been so scared of being alone… and now I can't even control the one thing that's always been by my side."

For a long moment, there's nothing but silence. Raimu doesn't expect an answer, doesn't need one. He's speaking to no one but himself.

But then—

A sudden spark of warmth stirs in his chest, like a faint pulse of chakra.

Something's moving.

His golden eyes snap open, wide and alert. He feels it—the faintest tug on his chakra, the pull of his beasts.

But it's not the usual response. It's more hesitant, more cautious.

"…I knew it," he breathes out.

He's not the same person he was when he first called them forth. The creatures, the beasts—they're not just extensions of his power. They've been with him through everything, and now, they're waiting. Waiting for him to change.

He grits his teeth, pushing himself up from the ground. He swipes his hands over his hoodie, brushing off the grass, and stands tall.

"No more running." He whispers to himself.

With a deep breath, he closes his eyes again, allowing his chakra to expand, but this time, it's different. Instead of brute force, he calls to his beasts with a feeling, with an emotion—the connection he had with them before.

They're not tools. They're my friends.

The chakra beasts stir.

He feels them, not just as creatures, but as part of him. The bond between them is stronger than he thought—it's not about power, it's about trust. It's about believing in each other.

And when he opens his eyes again, he doesn't have to say a word.

The first beast forms—a fire lion, its body crackling with energy, flames licking at the edges of its mane. Its golden eyes gleam fiercely, just like his own.

The second beast materializes beside it—a serpent made of ice, sleek and shimmering, coiling in the air like it owns the space around it.

Raimu smiles, a genuine smile, the kind he hasn't shown in a long time.

"They're here." He exhales, relief flooding his chest.

The creatures move, their movements fluid and in sync, responding to Raimu's intent as though they've never been apart. The bond is restored. The feeling is clear. He's not alone anymore.

But as he watches them, he knows this isn't the end. It's just the beginning. The struggle, the doubts, the fears—it's all a part of the journey.

And Raimu knows, now more than ever, that he doesn't have to carry it alone.