Naruto: The Chosen Undead

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Chapter no.83 Lightning in His Veins

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The evening sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the village as the day gave way to twilight. The cemetery, bathed in the warm hues of dusk, seemed almost peaceful—if not for the weight of the occasion. Kakashi stood by the unadorned casket, his face unreadable, the setting sun painting the silver strands of his hair with a faint orange glow.

Shisui Uchiha's mummified remains lay within, surrounded by ritualistic precision. Kakashi's single visible eye lingered on the casket, his mind uncharacteristically reflective. It wasn't like him to dwell—he preferred to keep moving, to keep himself occupied. But tonight, standing here, the past seemed inescapable.

Kakashi adjusted the hitai-ate over his Sharingan as if shielding himself from the weight of what lay before him. Shisui. They had never been close, but Kakashi had known him well enough to recognize his brilliance. As comrades in ANBU, they'd shared missions, fleeting conversations, and a mutual understanding of the burdens they carried.

Shisui had been… different. Talented, yes, but unassuming—a man whose ideals shone even in the bleakest corners of their world. Kakashi's mind flitted back to one of those rare moments of quiet after a mission, the two of them sitting shoulder-to-shoulder in the dark.

"Peace is fleeting," Shisui had said then, his voice soft but unwavering. "But isn't it worth chasing anyway?"

That memory lingered, even now. Kakashi had never replied, unsure at the time if he agreed. And now, the man who had once dared to chase that peace lay lifeless in a casket, reduced to a secret Konoha couldn't afford to leave intact.

He took a slow step forward, pausing when he noticed the faint, almost imperceptible movement within the casket. His eye narrowed, honing in on the tiny specks shifting under Shisui's skin. Ereshkigal beetles.

These beetles were bred for decay, laying eggs that would hatch within hours and rapidly decompose the body. Flesh, bone, chakra residue—everything would be consumed, leaving nothing behind. Kakashi's gaze lingered on the faint twitches of the eggs nestled within the corpse. The ritual was ancient and brutal, meant to keep a body from falling into enemy hands. Even now, it carried an eerie, almost grotesque efficiency.

A crunch of gravel behind him drew Kakashi's attention. He turned slightly, watching as Sasuke approached. The boy's expression was unreadable, but his fists were clenched at his sides, his entire frame taut with barely restrained tension. Without a word, Kakashi stepped aside, giving Sasuke space to stand before the casket.

Naruto and Sakura hung back, their faces somber as they watched their teammate. The usual liveliness in Naruto's eyes was muted, and Sakura's hands fidgeted nervously at her sides. Kakashi moved to stand beside them, his gaze shifting to the treeline.

There, in the fading light, he could just make out faint flickers of movement—the ANBU operatives hidden in the shadows. Of course, they were here. ANBU were always there, hovering at the edges of sight like ghosts. But Kakashi knew their presence wasn't merely ceremonial. Hiruzen Sarutobi had ordered this. The Hokage didn't take risks when it came to the Uchiha, even now.

The thought unsettled Kakashi. If this was a trap for grave robbers—or worse—what secrets did Hiruzen fear might come to light? His gaze shifted to Sasuke, standing stiff and silent near the casket.

The boy stared at the mummified remains of Shisui Uchiha, the name carving itself into his mind like a jagged knife. Kakashi said nothing as he let Sasuke have the space he needed.

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Shisui Uchiha.

The name washed over Sasuke like a cold wave, bringing with it memories he wished he could forget. But some things carve themselves so deeply into the mind that you can't erase them—no matter how hard you try.

Shisui wasn't just another Uchiha. To Sasuke, to his family, and especially to Itachi, Shisui was everything. He was Itachi's best friend and sparring partner, the only person who could push his brother to his limits and walk away smiling. Sasuke remembered watching them from a distance as a child, how they moved like they shared the same heartbeat, like their bond was something sacred.

He was always on the outside of that. Always.

When he was younger, he used to hover around them during their sparring sessions, his feet shuffling in the dirt as he waited for an invitation that never came. Shisui would ruffle his hair or throw him a quick tip about his stance when Itachi would brush him off. But no matter how kind Shisui was, it felt wrong—like he was being treated as the little kid tagging along rather than someone worthy of standing beside them.

He didn't want kindness. He wanted to be included.

And it stung. It stung more than he ever let on.

Sasuke clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. His father had spoken of Shisui with admiration, the kind of admiration Sasuke had once craved for himself. "There are only two in our clan whose talents stand above the rest: Itachi and Shisui. If the Uchiha ever rise to their rightful place in this village, it will be because of them."

Those words had felt like a dagger back then, the blade twisting between pride and envy. Even his father—stoic, distant Fugaku—acknowledged Shisui before he ever acknowledged Sasuke.

But all of that changed five years ago.

His breathing hitched as his thoughts spiraled toward the memories he had buried beneath layers of training and revenge. He could still hear the whispers, the rumors he wasn't supposed to hear, circling through the clan compound. Itachi killed him. Itachi betrayed Shisui. He had laughed at the absurdity of it back then. Itachi and Shisui were inseparable. The idea of Itachi killing Shisui had seemed impossible.

Until it wasn't.

Shisui disappeared. Then Itachi became the Butcher of the Uchiha Clan.

He felt the nausea twist in his stomach like it always did when he thought about that night. The night of screams. Of blood. Of betrayal. But in the aftermath, his thoughts always drifted back to Shisui.

If Shisui had been alive, would any of it have happened?

Sasuke let out a sharp breath, grounding himself in the present. His hands were shaking slightly, but he didn't try to stop them. The graveyard was quiet, and for a moment, he felt like the only living person in it, surrounded by ghosts of people he couldn't save.

He broke the silence, his voice steady but heavy. "Shisui Uchiha." The name left his lips like a stone being dropped into deep water.

He paused, the weight of it threatening to suffocate him.

"Mikoto Uchiha." His mother. The woman who had made him breakfast every morning, who had combed her fingers through his hair when he was scared.

"Fugaku Uchiha." His father. The man who had always seemed so untouchable, so distant, but who had carried the burden of their clan on his shoulders until the end.

Sasuke let the names hang there, like tolling bells marking the end of something sacred. His throat tightened, but he forced the words to keep coming.

"These are just three of the hundreds of names of my clan," he whispered, his voice cracking. "The names of the Uchiha who were massacred five years ago."

He expected the same silence to follow, the suffocating stillness he had grown used to. The kind of silence that pressed down on him after he had cried himself to sleep and woken up to find the world hadn't changed.

But this time, the silence broke.

Sakura gasped softly behind him, and when he turned, he saw them standing there—Team 7. Kakashi, Naruto, and Sakura. He wasn't alone. Not this time.

They looked at him not with pity, but with something that hit him harder: sympathy. Understanding. Empathy.

You're not alone, Sasuke. You don't have to be. Kakashi's words echoed in his head, the words he had told Sasuke before but that he had never let sink in. The people you've lost wouldn't want this for you. They wouldn't want you to destroy yourself trying to live up to something they never asked for.

For the first time in years, something cracked inside him—not from pain, but from the possibility of healing. He felt it, faint but present, the idea that maybe he didn't have to carry this burden alone.

Sasuke swallowed hard, his throat dry and aching, but he needed to say this.

"The Uchiha Massacre," he said, his voice faltering as his throat tightened. He forced the words out anyway, the weight of them clawing at him like they always did. "It was carried out by a man named Itachi Uchiha."

He clenched his fists, closing his eyes against the tears threatening to spill. "He is… no, he was my older brother. My aniki. Someone I trusted. Someone I admired. Someone who meant everything to me."

The words felt like shards of glass tearing through his throat, but he didn't stop. He couldn't stop. They needed to be said.

A heavy silence followed Sasuke's confession, settling like a shroud over the graveyard. He had expected that. He had expected them to back off, to leave him to this burden that was his alone. But Naruto just stepped forward, his footsteps slow and deliberate, and stood beside him as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

"The feeling of vengeance…" Naruto said, his voice softer than Sasuke had ever heard it. "I know you'll achieve it one day."

It wasn't much. Just a few words. But for some reason, they were enough. Enough to make something in Sasuke stir—a flicker of belief, not in himself, but in how Naruto believed in him. Like even if Sasuke didn't know if he could win against Itachi, Naruto had already made up his mind that he would.

Sasuke exhaled sharply, masking the tightness in his throat. "What would you know about that?"

Naruto reached for the broken hilt of the sword strapped to his belt and held it up. His fingers curled around it like it was a memory. A promise.

"I broke this sword when I killed the monster that took my master away," Naruto said, his eyes meeting Sasuke's.

The words hit Sasuke like a punch to the gut. He stared at Naruto, not because of the sword, but because of the meaning behind it. Naruto wasn't just a loudmouth fool. He knew loss. He knew what it meant to fight for someone who could never come back.

"Get ready," Naruto said, his voice steady, but there was something dangerous in his smile, something that made Sasuke think maybe Naruto wasn't so naïve after all. "Because the euphoria you'll feel when you win—it'll be unlike anything."

A snort escaped Sasuke before he could stop it, but it wasn't bitter. For once, it wasn't bitter.

Beside him, Sakura stepped closer, her hand brushing against his. He looked down, expecting to see the shy, blushing girl who had once stumbled over her words whenever she spoke to him. But she wasn't that girl anymore. There was no awkward hesitation, no childish infatuation. When she wrapped her fingers around his, her grip was steady, firm. Confident.

"You'll win, Sasuke," she said, and there was no doubt in her voice. Only certainty.

Sasuke blinked, and for a moment, he couldn't breathe. The weight he had carried for so long—the weight of his clan's massacre, the suffocating ache of vengeance—didn't feel as heavy. It was still there, but it was lighter. He wasn't sure if it was because of Sakura's hand, or Naruto's words, or just the fact that they were here, standing with him, refusing to leave him behind.

For years, Sasuke had convinced himself that this weight was his to bear and his alone. His vengeance was personal. His pain was personal. But now, standing here with them, he realized something he hadn't let himself acknowledge before: he didn't have to carry this burden alone.

His mind drifted back to their first day as Team 7. He remembered the words he had spoken during their introductions—how carefully he had crafted them to keep everyone at a distance. Don't get close. Don't get attached. It had been his shield, his armor. At the time, he thought it made him strong, independent. But looking back now, he could see the truth.

It wasn't strength. It was loneliness.

Attachments slowed you down. Attachments made you vulnerable. That was what he had believed. And yet, as he watched Naruto and Sakura grow stronger over time, a part of him had felt relieved. Relieved because their strength meant Itachi couldn't hurt them. He couldn't take them away from Sasuke.

He shook his head, grounding himself in the present. He wasn't thinking about how far ahead he needed to be. He wasn't chasing some finish line today. Today, he was looking around—at Naruto, at Sakura, at Kakashi—and realizing, Maybe it's okay not to do this alone.

He took a deep breath, steadying the storm inside him. This time, Sasuke wanted to introduce himself properly. Not because he had to, but because he wanted to. Because for the first time, he wanted them to see him.

"My name is Uchiha Sasuke," he said, his voice softer than usual, but steady. "There are many things I hate—loud noises, bright colors, and anything sweet. There's not much I like, except for onigiri and tomatoes."

He paused, feeling the breeze against his skin, cool and refreshing like a long-forgotten memory of peace.

"But as for dreams…" he continued, and this time, his voice was firm, sharpened by a truth he could finally accept. "My dream is to live a life my parents would be proud of. And my goal…"

He felt the familiar ache in his chest, but instead of letting it drown him, he let it ground him. Remind him.

"My goal is to restore my clan and bring justice to the Uchiha name. And to do that, I will kill Itachi Uchiha."

The words hung in the air, heavy but not suffocating. For so long, they had been his only purpose, his only guide. But as he spoke them aloud now, they didn't feel like a curse. They felt like a commitment. A promise he no longer had to carry alone.

Naruto's hand landed on Sasuke's shoulder, his grip firm. He didn't say anything, but he didn't need to. The weight of his hand was enough—a silent promise that he wasn't going anywhere.

Sakura's hand remained in his, steady and warm. There was something in her touch that he hadn't noticed before—stability. Something he didn't know he needed until now.

Then Sasuke met Kakashi's gaze. He stood a few steps back, his posture relaxed, but his eyes were locked on Sasuke's. He wasn't smiling, but he didn't need to. His presence was enough.

For the first time in years, Sasuke felt calm. Not numb. Not detached. Just calm. Like the storm that had raged inside him had finally settled into something manageable.

This is my team, he thought. People who will walk beside me. People I won't lose. People that Itachi can never take away from me.

And for once, he believed it.

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The morning sun bled across the training ground, casting long amber streaks across the grass. The warmth barely touched Sasuke. All he could feel was the sharp pulse of adrenaline coursing through his veins, as if his body knew exactly what today meant.

Kakashi stood in front of him, arms folded, watching with that lazy gaze of his that never gave away much but always knew more than it let on.

"You look eager," Kakashi said, eyeing Sasuke's stance.

"I've had a lot of time to think about this."

"Did you decide on a path, then?"

"I don't need to decide. With the Sharingan, I can take multiple paths at once," Sasuke said confidently.

"Of course you can. So, what's first?"

"Ninjutsu."

"Reasons?"

Sasuke shook his head. "I just rested my body. Jumping straight back into anything else would be reckless."

A pause. Kakashi studied him, and for once, Sasuke didn't mind the scrutiny.

"Smart choice," the white-haired man finally said. "But even prodigies don't get shortcuts."

He pulled out a small, thin sheet of paper from his pouch. "You know what this is."

Sasuke didn't hesitate as he took the chakra paper from him. He focused, letting his chakra flow through it. The result was immediate: the center crumpled tightly, while the edges flickered and burned briefly before curling in on themselves. He watched as the ash fell to the ground, scattering in the wind.

"Dual natures," Kakashi said, his voice holding a note of approval. "Rare."

"The Uchiha specialize in fire jutsu," Sasuke said automatically, his mind already turning over the possibilities.

"That's true," Kakashi replied, "but your primary affinity is lightning."

"How can you tell?"

"The crumpling came first, and it was stronger than the burn," Kakashi explained, pointing to the remnants. "Lightning is dominant. Fire is your secondary nature."

"So I should focus on lightning chakra first?"

"Exactly," the older man said. "It'll come naturally to you, and once you've mastered it, you can refine your control over fire."

"If it gets me closer to mastering the Eye of Insight... Copy Ninja."

Kakashi gave a soft laugh. "Always aiming high, huh?"

There was no need for Sasuke to answer that.

"Funny thing is, my natural affinity is lightning too. I developed a jutsu once that let me cut through a lightning bolt."

"You're serious?!"

"Very." Kakashi took out a pair of kunai and twirled one between his fingers. "I might even teach you someday."

Sasuke didn't rise to the bait. "I'm not interested in promises. Just tell me what I need to do."

Kakashi's eye curved slightly. "Good. That's exactly what I wanted to hear. So, here's your first exercise." He handed Sasuke the kunai.

"What's the plan?"

"Think of how electricity flows. It needs a positive and negative charge to move, right?" Kakashi explained.

"A circuit."

"Exactly. Imagine one kunai as the positive charge and the other as the negative. Your goal is to channel your chakra through both and create a steady current between them."

"Steady how?"

"Hold the kunai about the width of my thumb apart. If you can keep the current steady at that distance, you'll gradually increase the gap over time. The further apart the kunai, the stronger your control will need to be."

"So this is a control exercise," Sasuke said, piecing it together.

"Control and precision," Kakashi confirmed. "If the current wavers, you will get shocked, and the exercise will fail."

Sasuke turned the kunai over in his hands, feeling their weight. "What happens once I master this?"

Kakashi stood and crossed his arms. "Once you've mastered it, we can move on to a jutsu. But don't rush it. Even the brightest sparks need time to ignite."

Sasuke smirked faintly. "I'll master it faster than you think."

Kakashi chuckled again, clearly amused. "I look forward to seeing it. Now, focus. Visualize the flow of chakra, steady and unbroken. One current. One circuit."

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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 40, 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!