Chapter 10: Sasuke's Scowl and the Seeds of Spite
[SYSTEM MESSAGE: ENGAGING BROODING UCHIHA. PREPARING FOR MINIMAL EMOTIONAL RESPONSE.]
With Orochimaru utterly enraged and his precious experiments reduced to a smoking puddle of existential dread, the Tenchi Bridge became a full-blown circus. Naruto was still trying to reason with Sasuke, which, honestly, was like trying to teach a rock to tap dance. Sakura was torn between them. Sai was just soaking it all in, probably sketching their dramatic poses. And I was basking in the warm glow of Orochimaru's incandescent hatred. It was a good day.
But now, it was time for Sasuke. The 'avenger.' The 'lone wolf.' The 'angsty teenager who desperately needed a hug and a therapist.' My goal: to initiate his 'Hate' meter. Not easy, given his general aura of "I don't care about anything but revenge." But challenge accepted.
"Sasuke. Oh, Sasuke. The poster child for unresolved trauma and questionable fashion choices. All that brooding, all that angst, all that 'I'm better than everyone else' attitude. He's like a walking, talking emo band. And I, Adam Izuku, am about to become the discordant note in his carefully curated symphony of despair. This is going to be fun. For me, anyway. For him? Probably not so much."
Sasuke, after his initial dramatic entrance, was focused entirely on Naruto. Their conversation was less a conversation and more a series of dramatic pronouncements and intense stares. It was like watching a particularly angsty play.
[ADAM IZUKU: COMMENCING PROVOCATION PROTOCOL. TARGET: UCHIHA ANGST.]
[SASUKE UCHIHA HATE METER: 0%]
I decided to start subtle. I strolled over, casually leaning against a ruined pillar, as if I had nothing better to do than observe their marital spat.
"You know, Naruto," I said, loud enough for Sasuke to hear, "you're really putting in the effort here. It's almost sweet. Like a puppy trying to get its owner to play fetch. A very loud, very orange puppy. But, uh, no offense, Sasuke, but your responses are a little… monotone. Are you reading from a script? Because it's giving off serious 'bad acting' vibes."
Sasuke's head snapped towards me. His Sharingan eyes, usually so intense, flickered with a hint of… surprise? Annoyance? It was hard to tell. But it was a reaction. Progress!
"Who are you?" Sasuke's voice was low, laced with a familiar Uchiha arrogance. "Another one of Naruto's idiotic friends?"
"Idiotic? Ouch," I feigned hurt. "No, I'm Adam Izuku. And I'm more of an… independent contractor of chaos. And I have to say, for someone so 'cool' and 'aloof,' you really do lean into the melodrama, don't you? All black clothes, the intense stares, the 'lone wolf' act. It's a bit much, don't you think? You're like a walking Hot Topic commercial."
[SASUKE UCHIHA HATE METER: 5%]
A muscle in Sasuke's jaw twitched. His Sharingan spun. He wasn't used to being openly mocked, especially not by a civilian.
"Ah, the sweet, sweet taste of Uchiha irritation. It's like a fine wine, only with more glaring and less actual flavor. He's clearly not used to someone calling him out on his edgy fashion choices. That's okay, I'm here to broaden his horizons. And maybe ruin his day."
"You speak of things you do not understand," Sasuke hissed, his hand subtly moving towards his katana.
"Oh, I understand perfectly," I countered, waving a dismissive hand. "You're trying to prove something. To someone. Probably yourself. And frankly, it's getting a little old. Have you considered, I don't know, a hobby? Like, knitting? Or competitive eating? Something less… murder-y."
Naruto, still reeling from the "idiotic friend" comment, looked back and forth between me and Sasuke, completely bewildered. Sakura just facepalmed. Sai, however, looked incredibly interested, taking mental notes.
"My path is my own," Sasuke growled, his voice a low rumble.
"Your path looks like a very dark, very narrow alleyway with questionable lighting," I retorted. "And honestly, you could use a few more friends. And a good stylist. Maybe a humor coach. Have you tried smiling? It's revolutionary."
[SASUKE UCHIHA HATE METER: 10% - ACQUIRABLE SKILLS: BASIC FIRE STYLE JUTSU]
Sasuke's Sharingan flared. He probably wanted to incinerate me on the spot. But he was too focused on Naruto, too invested in his own dramatic narrative, to properly engage. Yet.
The fight began in earnest. Naruto, in his rage, unleashed a flurry of attacks. Sasuke countered with his Chidori. And I, seeing my prime opportunity, decided it was time to push Orochimaru's buttons one last, glorious time.
I had noticed a small, intricately carved wooden box near Orochimaru's feet earlier. It was unassuming, but I recognized it from the anime. It contained a particularly nasty, and deeply important, research sample – something that would have accelerated his reanimation jutsu or his body modification experiments. It was a sample he guarded with his life.
While Naruto and Sasuke clashed, creating a vortex of chakra and teenage angst, Orochimaru, momentarily distracted by his renewed focus on Sasuke, failed to notice my subtle movements. Using my "accidental" chakra suppression (or just my general knack for being overlooked), I slipped behind him.
With a swift, subtle kick, I sent the wooden box skittering across the ground. It bounced, hit a loose rock, and then, with a sickening crack, it shattered open. Inside, a shimmering, viscous liquid splattered onto the ground, mixing with the dust and quickly evaporating with a faint, putrid smell.
"Boom. Another one bites the dust. And by 'one,' I mean Orochimaru's lifelong ambition to become the ultimate creepy science project. Sometimes, a well-placed foot is more effective than a thousand jutsu. And infinitely more satisfying."
Orochimaru, whose attention had been momentarily drawn to Sasuke's power, froze. He sniffed the air. His head snapped down. His golden eyes, wide with disbelief, stared at the ruined contents of the box.
Then, they found me, standing there, looking like butter wouldn't melt in my mouth.
"Oh, my bad!" I exclaimed, feigning profound shock. "Did I kick that? So clumsy of me! What was in it? Glitter? Because it looked kind of… sparkly. You really should keep your expensive research in safer containers, you know. Or at least label them 'DO NOT KICK. CONTAINS EVIL SCIENCE STUFF.'"
Orochimaru's body trembled. Not with pain, but with a pure, unadulterated, soul-shattering fury. He let out a shriek that was less human and more like a dying banshee. His face, usually so composed, contorted into a mask of grotesque, incandescent rage.
"MY… MY MASTERPIECE! MY LIFETIME OF RESEARCH! YOU… YOU ABOMINATION!" he screamed, abandoning his fight with Naruto and Sasuke entirely, his attention fixed solely on me.
[OROCHIMARU HATE METER: 100% - BLOODLINE: BODY MODIFICATION, SNAKE JUTSU ACQUIRED PERMANENTLY!]
The system notification flashed, a glorious beacon of success. I had done it. I had pushed Orochimaru past his breaking point. I had inflicted irreparable psychological damage. And all it cost was a little bit of casual vandalism.
"Well, now," I said, grinning triumphantly, "that's what I call a strong emotional response! You're welcome, Orochimaru. I aim to please. Or, you know, completely infuriate. Whichever gets the job done."
Orochimaru lunged at me, transformed partially into a massive white snake, his fangs dripping venom. But I just stood there, a wide, victorious smirk on my face. The damage was done. The jutsu was copied. And now, the true chaos could begin.