Naruto: The Chosen Undead

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Chapter no.58 Chakra, Canvas, and Conflict

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The house loomed before Naruto, its sprawling estate enclosed by high wooden walls capped with tiled roofs that curved upward at the edges. Beyond the tall gate, the peaks of intricate wooden structures were just visible, their lattice windows and sliding shoji screens lending the place a timeless elegance.

Naruto, however, wasn't one to admire architecture. He stood awkwardly at the gate, scratching the back of his head. "This is the place, right?" he muttered. He'd planned to head straight to Lordran, but Kakashi's clone had intercepted him, handing him this address before vanishing.

He knocked hesitantly.

The gate creaked open.

Naruto froze. No one was there.

"Who… who opened the door?" he asked aloud, his voice trembling. His imagination flared, conjuring images of haunted mansions. "Ghosts," he whispered, shivering. "I hate ghosts."

"It's not ghosts, kid," a gruff voice replied.

Naruto yelped, looking down to see a small, pug-like dog staring up at him. The dog's brown fur, dark snout, and pink paws were complemented by a blue vest, a bandage on one leg, and a Konoha forehead protector strapped across his head.

"Did… did you just talk?"

"No," the dog deadpanned.

Naruto squinted. "You just did."

The dog sighed. "Great. One of those types. I'm Pakkun. What do you want?"

"I'm here for Kakashi," Naruto replied, still eyeing the talking dog warily.

Pakkun tilted his head. "Wow, you recovered quickly. Most people are at least a little stunned by my devastatingly cute face."

Naruto raised an eyebrow. "I've seen stranger things, but what exactly are you?"

"I'm a Ninken, brat," Pakkun replied dryly. "A trained companion skilled in the art of chakra, and Kakashi's summon."

"So, you, like, help Kakashi?"

"That's right. I'm incredibly dangerous in combat, and my nose can track anyone," Pakkun said, sniffing the air. His frown deepened as he caught an unusual scent. The boy in front of him smelled like blood—but not the blood of any human or animal Pakkun had ever encountered. It was... off.

"What kind of weirdo did you drag me out here to check on, Kakashi?" Pakkun muttered, narrowing his eyes.

"You stink, brat," he added bluntly.

"Shut up, you ugly mutt!"

Pakkun raised a canine eyebrow. "Takes one to know one, brat."

"Hey! I'll have you know I'm handsome!"

"Sure you are," Pakkun said with a smirk. "Keep telling yourself that in the mirror, kid."

Naruto scowled, realizing he'd been baited. "Whatever. Where's Kakashi?"

Pakkun turned, pushing the gate open wider with his paw. "Follow me. And try not to trip over your ego on the way in."

Muttering under his breath, Naruto followed the pug into the estate. Inside, the grounds stretched even wider than he'd expected. The main building stood tall and elegant, framed by polished wooden beams and sliding doors. Stone paths wove through raked gravel gardens and neatly pruned shrubs, while lanterns hung under the eaves, swaying gently in the breeze.

Naruto glanced around as they walked. The interiors they passed were simple yet refined—polished wooden floors, tatami mats, and scrolls of calligraphy adorning the walls. Sunlight filtered through open shoji screens, casting soft patterns on the floor.

"You know," Naruto said, trailing behind Pakkun, "I didn't think Kakashi-sensei lived in a place like this. I figured he'd be sleeping in a pile of books somewhere."

Pakkun glanced back. "You think he just rolls out of a tree and magically shows up for your missions? Kakashi's got layers, kid. Like an onion."

Naruto snorted. "You're giving him way too much credit."

"And you don't know him as well as you think you do," Pakkun retorted smugly.

Before Naruto could respond, they turned a corner and stepped into the garden.

It was breathtaking. A koi pond glimmered in the sunlight, surrounded by moss-covered rocks and carefully pruned trees. Stone lanterns dotted the garden's edges, and the breeze carried scattered sakura petals across the grass.

But Naruto's attention wasn't on the garden.

It was on Kakashi and Sasuke.

Kakashi sat cross-legged on the wooden veranda, a brush in hand and a canvas before him. His usual lazy demeanor was replaced with quiet focus as he worked on a painting. Beside him, Sasuke stood near a much larger canvas. His fingers were dipped in black ink, and as Naruto watched, Sasuke pressed his palm against the canvas. With careful chakra control, the splattered ink shifted and spread, transforming into an elegant bird mid-flight.

Naruto froze, his eyes narrowing. "No… way."

"Oh, Naruto. You're here."

Naruto didn't answer, still staring at Sasuke. "What… what is this? Art lessons? Are you two bonding over finger painting or something?"

Pakkun snorted. "What, you thought Kakashi spent all his time reading smut? He's got hobbies. Unlike some people."

"Hey! I have hobbies!"

"Yelling doesn't count," Pakkun said, laying his head on his paws.

Naruto ignored him, stomping toward the veranda. "Seriously, Kakashi-sensei, what's going on here? And since when does Sasuke paint?" He gestured wildly at Sasuke's canvas, which now depicted a hawk perched on a tree branch.

Sasuke didn't look at him. "Tch. It's called relaxing, dobe. You wouldn't understand."

"Oh, I understand plenty!" Naruto folded his arms, glaring. "I just didn't think you'd be into… this!"

Finally, Sasuke glanced at him, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "And yet, I'm still better than you. At everything."

"Why, you—"

"Enough," Kakashi said, cutting him off with a sigh. Setting down his brush, he leaned back on his hands. "Naruto, I actually wanted to talk to you about something."

"Yeah? What is it?"

Kakashi paused, clearly choosing his words carefully. "It's about Tenten. She's decided to step down as your kenjutsu mentor."

"Huh? Why? We were having so much fun!"

"It's what you said."

"What I said?" Naruto scratched his head, trying to remember. "What did I say?"

"You told her she could 'also be a medical ninja rather than just being a weapon specialist.'"

"Okay…" Naruto said slowly, not understanding.

"You undermined her," Sasuke interjected, finally turning away from his canvas. "Tenten has worked hard to become a weapon specialist. And then you, someone she's been helping, casually tell her she could be more than the very thing she's dedicated herself to."

Naruto's face scrunched up in confusion. "But that's not what I meant! I was just trying to help—"

"Intent doesn't matter," Sasuke cut him off. "To her, it sounded like you dismissed everything she's worked for. You don't get to decide what's 'enough' for someone else, dobe."

The realization hit Naruto like a ton of bricks. He stared at Sasuke, then at Kakashi, then back at Sasuke. "Oh… Oh!"

Naruto jumped to his feet, spinning toward the gate. "I've gotta go apologize—"

Kakashi grabbed the back of his collar, yanking him to a stop. "Not so fast, Naruto."

"But I didn't mean it like that!" Naruto protested, tugging against Kakashi's hold. "I just wanted to say she could be a medical ninja too! Like, on top of being a weapons specialist!"

"And do you think she's going to listen to you right now?"

Naruto opened his mouth to argue, but no words came out. He deflated slightly, his shoulders slumping.

"Exactly," Kakashi continued. "Tenten's upset. If you rush in now, she's not going to hear your apology—just more excuses."

Naruto frowned. "So what am I supposed to do? Just wait around?"

"Let her cool off first," Kakashi advised. "Then apologize."

"Second chances, right?" Naruto asked hesitantly.

"Second chances come after proof of change, not before," Sasuke said bluntly.

Naruto nodded slowly, his expression serious. He knew he'd have to show Tenten he didn't mean it the way it sounded—and that he truly wanted to continue their sword training.

"So what am I supposed to do now?"

Kakashi leaned back. "Well, you could always join us. Maybe painting will help you relax."

"Training's over for today," he added. "You can either go home and enjoy the rest of your day… or waste a few more hours here with us."

"I don't know."

"Why not waste a few more?" Kakashi replied. "Plenty of ink and canvas to go around."

"Don't bother, Kakashi," Sasuke said without looking up, dipping his hand into the ink. "The dobe's just scared."

Naruto's fists clenched. "Scared? Of this? Oh, I'll show you who's scared!" He stomped forward. "Give me that canvas."

Kakashi handed him a blank canvas and a pot of ink, his single eye crinkling in amusement. "Be my guest. Let's see what you've got."

Naruto dipped his hand into the ink, staring at his blackened palm. For a moment, he hesitated, the garden silent except for the rustling leaves.

Kakashi leaned back on the veranda, propping his chin on his hand. "This should be… interesting."

From his corner, Pakkun chuckled softly. "I give it five seconds before he makes a mess."

"Shut up, dog!"

Ignoring him, Naruto focused on the blank canvas. This wasn't just any painting style. It was ink-stroke art—something he vaguely remembered from Tobirama's journal. It wasn't just artistic expression; it was tied to Uzumaki combat techniques, a cornerstone of their fighting style.

The journal had described how Uzumaki children learned to infuse chakra into ink, creating seals with a single touch. With precision and mastery, a simple stroke could transform into a weapon, a barrier—or even an explosion.

The realization made Naruto's blood boil. Why hadn't anyone taught him this? If Kakashi knew about it, why wasn't it passed down to him? His fists tightened, smearing the ink slightly.

"Careful," Kakashi said, breaking Naruto's spiraling thoughts. "Chakra manipulation is all about control and visualization. Picture the image in your head. Let your chakra flow into the ink. Don't force it."

Naruto gave a curt nod but couldn't fully suppress his frustration. He pressed his palm to the canvas, trying to channel his chakra—but his emotions were too chaotic. The ink splattered across the surface in jagged lines, uncontrolled and messy.

Silence fell.

Naruto stared at the chaotic mess he'd made, and a passage from Tobirama's journal surfaced in his mind:

---

The Uzumaki clan has always been peculiar in their approach to fuinjutsu. While the world sees it as a tool of precision and power, the Uzumaki call it something else: Runes. Not a craft. Not a science. A language.

Each rune is a word, each stroke a sentence—or even an entire story, emotion, or idea condensed into a spiral. To the Uzumaki, fuinjutsu is not just action but communication, a way to etch meaning into existence itself. Arrogant as it may sound, they believe their seals speak to the very fabric of the universe.

I presented the Flying Thunder God Technique to Uzushio's elders, expecting praise for its brilliance. Instead, they dismissed it as a "barbarically complex sentence that tears space for nothing more than victory." They called it crude and meaningless, unworthy of the "true language of runes." Their leader even told me, "Power without meaning is empty, like a scream into the void. It echoes, but it holds no weight."

At the time, I was furious. What use is "weight" in war if you are dead? What is meaning without the strength to enforce it? But their philosophy lingered in my mind. The Uzumaki seals endure in ways others cannot. They do not simply bind or destroy—they grow, adapt, and evolve. Their strength defies the entropy of lesser techniques. It almost feels alive.

I still don't fully grasp their view. Perhaps, bound by pragmatism, I never will. Yet I cannot help but wonder if they see something I do not: a truth beyond logic, beyond efficiency. Have I, in my pursuit of mastery, overlooked the possibility that power can serve something greater than itself?

----

Naruto clenched his fists, staring at the chaotic ink splatter. The weight of those words pressed on him, but they also sparked something. This wasn't just about making seals or creating a tool. This was about learning to communicate—through ink, through chakra, through himself.

He took a deep breath and dipped his hand into the ink again. This time, he cleared his mind and focused. No anger. No frustration. Just intent.

Naruto stared at the messy black spiral forming on his canvas. His chakra had shaped the ink, but it was wild, uneven—alive, yet untamed. The swirling lines reminded him of the Uzumaki spiral but, ironically, also the Darksign.

He blinked, shutting his eyes briefly as Tobirama's words echoed in his mind:

Power without meaning is empty, like a scream into the void.

Maybe that was why he looked toward power in Lordran rather than Konoha. Lordran held meaning for him, and that meaning had power.

"Here," Kakashi said, handing him a fresh canvas. His calm voice broke through Naruto's thoughts, steadying him. "Try again."

Naruto hesitated, staring at the blank canvas. "Sensei, where'd you learn this ink-painting stuff?"

Kakashi paused, his wooden brush hovering mid-stroke. His voice softened. "My sensei's wife taught me."

Naruto tilted his head. "Your sensei's wife? She knew this?"

Kakashi nodded, his gaze distant. "She was an incredible woman. Strong, wise, full of life. She taught me this a long time ago. She said it wasn't just about creating—it was about connecting to yourself. Putting something meaningful into your work." He set his brush down gently. "She passed away years ago."

The air grew heavy, a quiet weight settling over the garden. Naruto and Sasuke exchanged a glance, sensing the depth of Kakashi's words.

"Alright, sensei," Naruto said, rolling up his sleeves with determination. "You're gonna love this." He dipped his hand back into the ink, this time visualizing Kakashi's masked face. Focusing harder than before, he poured his chakra into the strokes.

A few minutes later, he held up the finished product proudly. "Tada! My masterpiece!"

The painting… was passable. Kakashi's masked face was recognizable, but the proportions were wobbly, and the lines shook with inexperience.

Kakashi tilted his head, amusement glinting in his eye. "How much for this masterpiece? My wallet's feeling light."

"My services don't come cheap," Naruto replied with mock seriousness. "But for you, 10 yen."

"I don't know. I can probably spend it on something meaningful."

"Like another copy of that smutty book you love so much," Sasuke cut in dryly, holding up his own canvas.

Naruto's jaw dropped. Sasuke's painting was flawless—an elegant, detailed portrait of Kakashi, shaded to perfection. Every line was deliberate, every detail precise. It looked more like something from a gallery than a quick garden sketch.

"What the heck is this?!"

"It's art," Sasuke said smugly, already cleaning his hands.

Naruto growled, dipping his fingers back into the ink. He scribbled furiously, creating an exaggerated stick figure with spiky hair, a scowl, and a large dunce hat labeled "EMO."

"This is you!"

Sasuke's eye twitched, and without a word, he dipped his brush back into the ink. Sparks flew as the two launched into an impromptu painting war, their competitive streaks fueling chaos. Ink splattered across the veranda, canvases were tossed like weapons, and the peaceful garden erupted into a full-blown mess.

From his sunny corner, Pakkun stretched lazily, watching the chaos unfold. "You know," he said, glancing at Kakashi, "this place hasn't been this noisy in years."

Kakashi leaned back, his gaze on the two boys. A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mask. "It's kind of nice, isn't it?"

Pakkun snorted. "Nice? Sure. But let's not pretend you won't make me clean this up later."

"You've got paws, Pakkun. I'll lend you a mop," Kakashi said lightly.

The pug rolled his eyes. "Generous as ever. But let's face it—you like this chaos."

Kakashi's gaze lingered on Naruto and Sasuke, their laughter cutting through the mess and noise. The garden was alive in a way it hadn't been in years. "Yeah," he said quietly. "I think I do."

Pakkun glanced at Kakashi, his expression unusually serious. "You know, I can't figure this kid out—and that's rare for me."

"Go on," Kakashi said.

"I know you sent me to sniff him out intentionally," Pakkun said, voice low. "And I picked up something... unusual. The boy reeks of blood."

"How recent?"

"It's hard to say," Pakkun admitted. "Some of it's fresh, maybe from this week. But it's faint—almost like it's been burned off by something."

"Burned off?"

"Yeah. It's like he tried to cover his tracks, and not just with chemicals and water. Fire, maybe chakra. It's subtle, but if it weren't for my nose, no one would notice."

Kakashi frowned, his mind racing.

"So," Pakkun continued, watching Kakashi closely. "What are you going to do about it?"

"For now? Nothing," Kakashi said evenly. "I need Naruto to trust me first. If he's going out of his way to erase evidence of his actions, confronting him could drive him further into hiding."

"You're playing a risky game, Kakashi."

"Maybe," Kakashi admitted, his voice quiet. "But Naruto's connection to the Third Hokage is already fragile. Pushing too hard now could make things worse. At least now we're aware of it—and that's a start."

"Fair enough," Pakkun said, turning his head slightly. "But if the kid's tangled up in something serious, you'll have to act sooner or later."

Kakashi didn't respond immediately, his gaze distant. "I'll handle it when the time comes," he finally said.

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[ Personal Note: First off, thanks a ton to all of you for sticking with this story. Seriously, you guys are awesome. Now, if you're interested in supporting me on P@treon, let me just say that over there, I post these massive 5k-word chapters. But heads up, if you're jumping to P@treon, you'll need to start from Chapter 27, since that's where this chapter lines up with the content there.

To everyone here just reading along, please don't forget to leave a comment! Honestly, your comments make my day, and they let me know you're as invested in this story as I am. So yeah, thanks again, and I hope you have an amazing rest of your day!