The Changing Winds

Chapter 3

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Jiraiya tensed when he felt an overwhelming pressure settle in the clearing. The very air thickened with the malicious presence of the nine-tailed fox. It was heavy and suffocating and reminded him of his brief encounter with Roshi during the third war.

Is the seal weakening? He wondered, feeling uneasy at the mere thought. It seems that the fox has more influence over him when he is emotionally vulnerable. Maybe I should focus on helping him keep his emotions in check. But, I wonder...

Jiraiya sensed another presence close-in to their location. But whoever it was, remained in the shadows. Now that he thought about it, he probably should have alerted the village beforehand. No matter, he couldn't do anything about it now, anyway. Pushing those worries to the back of his mind, he focused on riling up his student, carefully noting the way the corrosive chakra affected him and the nature around them.

"How did that feel, Naruto?" He tried again when he heard no response. "How did it feel to fight your friend like that? How did it feel knowing that he was using the techniques and knowledge your own teacher denied you?"

Thick, red chakra bubbled out of his body in the form of a one-tailed fox. It cloaked around him, clouding his thoughts with its anger and lust for destruction.

Destroy him, Naruto! Are you going to stand and take this abuse like you always have? I know how much you desire to rip him into tiny little pieces. The nine-tailed fox whispered and continued to feed its chakra through the seal. It took great delight in feeling its influence on the boy grow. It smiled darkly when the seal holding it back opened just a bit more.

Don't you want to prove him wrong? Don't you want to show him that you are not some pathetic sidekick, Naruto? Didn't you claim that you would show them all? Or were they right all those years ago? Another tail formed in his cloak. The whisker-like marks on his face thickened. A low, animalistic growl came from the boy. Let me help you. Take it... my power... Don't you want to?

Naruto crouched low, intending to, once again, charge in headfirst. His thoughts seemed unclear and hazy but they revolved around his desire to spill blood. Voices kept whispering in his ears.

They called him weak. He wasn't.

They called him pathetic. He wasn't.

He wasn't an idiot. But the voices wouldn't listen. They were familiar in their arrogance. They were familiar in their mocking tone. They were familiar like the whispers behind his back.

He wanted the voices to shut up.

And suddenly, he wasn't looking at his mentor. He was a seven-year-old looking at those villagers staring at him with cruel, uncaring eyes and hurting deep inside even as he tried to smile.

Don't talk to him... Stay away from that boy... He saw parents pulling their children away from him as if he carried some disease they didn't want to get infected with.

Look at him, walking around the village as if he is one of us... He remembered the hushed whispers, spoken behind his back when they thought he couldn't hear them. He remembered them leaving in a hurry as soon as they noticed him. And it hurt just as much as it did when he then.

Get away from here, you brat. He remembered getting thrown out of shops. And take that stupid mask with you. He remembered people watching with uncaring eyes. Not one of them willing to lift a finger to help the poor orphan.

Each insult, every sneer and every whisper... He could remember the nights he cried himself to sleep. Alone, uncertain and scared... so very scared. He remembered returning to an empty home and wondering about his parents. He found himself trapped in an endless loop of memories he had buried deep inside him.