Published at 17th of September 2024 11:44 am

Chapter 59 Kakashi, Shadows of the Past: 4 Echoes of the Past

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The morning sun did little to chase away the shadows that clung to the ruined village of Aokigahara. Even as daylight filtered through the mist, the place felt haunted—its history steeped in tragedy and dark magic. Kakashi, Yukari, and Shinji stood at the center of the courtyard, surrounded by the remnants of the battle they had narrowly survived. The strange figure had vanished into the night, but his malevolent presence lingered in the air.

Kakashi’s instincts told him there was more to this place than just the cursed seal. They had stopped the immediate threat, but something darker was lurking just beneath the surface—something that went far beyond a simple rogue shinobi. He wasn’t leaving until he got answers.

“We need to search the village,” Kakashi said, his voice low but steady. “There might be survivors. Or at the very least, evidence of what happened here.”

Yukari activated her Byakugan, scanning the surrounding area. “I’m not sensing any chakra signatures nearby. If anyone’s left, they’re either too far away or… hiding underground.”

Shinji sent his kikaichu ahead to scout the paths. “My insects aren’t detecting any threats for now, but this village feels off. There’s a layer of decay in the chakra residue. Like something has been feeding off it for a long time.”

Kakashi frowned beneath his mask, feeling the weight of Shinji’s words. Whatever had happened here wasn’t recent. The village had been in the grip of darkness for years, maybe decades. And the figure they had encountered seemed to be a catalyst for something much larger.

“Let’s split up,” Kakashi suggested. “Yukari, take the east side of the village. Shinji, head west. I’ll check the north. Look for anything unusual—old records, personal effects, anything that could explain what happened to the villagers.”

They nodded in agreement and set off in different directions.

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Kakashi made his way through the northern section of the village, his senses on high alert. The streets were eerily quiet, the buildings dilapidated and overgrown with vines. The deeper he ventured, the more unsettling the atmosphere became. It was as though the village itself was watching him, waiting for something to happen.

He entered a large building that had once been a school, its walls now cracked and weathered by time. The air inside was stale, thick with dust and memories of the past. Desks were overturned, papers scattered across the floor, as if the students had fled in a hurry.

As Kakashi carefully searched the room, he noticed something strange—old scrolls lying beneath a pile of debris in the corner. He knelt down, brushing away the dust to reveal a set of ancient documents, their parchment yellowed with age. The ink had faded in some places, but the symbols and writing were still legible.

Kakashi’s eye scanned the text, his mind racing as he pieced together the story. These scrolls spoke of the village’s history—how it had once been a peaceful settlement, home to generations of skilled shinobi. But then, something changed. The village had fallen under the influence of a curse, a darkness that began to take hold of the people, corrupting them slowly over time.

The scrolls mentioned the “Sealed Ones,” an ancient power buried deep beneath the village, locked away for centuries by powerful seals. The villagers had lived in fear of this darkness, but some had attempted to harness it, believing they could control it. That was when everything fell apart.

Kakashi’s eye narrowed as he read further. The figure they had encountered—the man in the black robes—had been part of this twisted history. He was one of the last remnants of those who had tried to wield the Sealed Ones’ power. But instead of controlling it, they had unleashed it, dooming the village to a slow and agonizing death.

His thoughts were interrupted by a soft creaking sound. Kakashi froze, his instincts immediately kicking in. He turned, kunai in hand, ready for anything. The room was empty, but something felt off.

A shadow moved at the edge of his vision, darting out of sight before he could focus on it. His Sharingan flared, and he quickly scanned the area, but there was nothing.

Suddenly, he heard a faint voice—barely more than a whisper.

“Kakashi…”

The sound sent chills down his spine. He recognized the voice, but it was impossible. He hadn’t heard it in years.

“Kakashi…”

It was Obito’s voice.

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Yukari moved cautiously through the eastern part of the village, her Byakugan active as she scanned for any chakra signatures. The buildings here were in even worse shape than in the northern section, many of them completely collapsed or overrun with vegetation. It was clear that this part of Aokigahara had been abandoned long before the rest.

She approached what looked like an old temple, its stone walls cracked and crumbling. The symbols etched into the stone were worn, but they seemed familiar to her. There was something about this place—an ancient energy that resonated with the very air around her.

As Yukari stepped inside, she felt a sudden shift in the atmosphere. The temperature dropped, and the air became thick with an oppressive energy. She could feel the weight of countless eyes watching her, though there was no one in sight.

The temple’s interior was vast, its floor covered in dust and debris. At the far end of the room stood a large stone altar, its surface covered in strange markings. Yukari approached cautiously, her Byakugan scanning the area for any hidden traps or seals.

But as she neared the altar, her vision shifted. The walls of the temple seemed to warp and ripple, and the markings on the altar glowed faintly with a sickly green light. She could see chakra flowing through the symbols, but it wasn’t natural. It was twisted, corrupted.

Suddenly, the room was filled with whispers. They came from every direction, overlapping and incomprehensible, yet somehow familiar.

“Help us… release us… save us…”

Yukari’s eyes widened as the voices grew louder. She could feel their desperation, their anguish. These were the voices of the villagers—trapped, bound to the curse that had consumed their home.

She backed away from the altar, her heart pounding in her chest. Whatever had happened here, it wasn’t over. The villagers’ souls were still trapped, bound to the power of the Sealed Ones.

She had to find Kakashi and Shinji. They needed to regroup, to figure out how to break this curse once and for all.

_______________________________________________________________

Shinji’s exploration of the western side of the village had been similarly fruitless, though he had uncovered remnants of old records detailing the village’s leadership. But as he dug deeper into the documents, a disturbing pattern emerged—names of people who had been recorded as missing, disappearing without a trace over the years.

The further he went back, the more frequent the disappearances became, until they culminated in a final entry: the last known leader of Aokigahara, who had vanished along with the remaining villagers nearly a decade ago. There was no explanation, only a cryptic message scrawled at the bottom of the record:

“The Sealed Ones will rise again. We are but vessels.”

Shinji’s kikaichu buzzed around him nervously, reacting to the dark energy that seemed to seep from the very ground beneath him. He couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched—not by the shadows, but by something much older.

He had to find the others. Whatever was happening in Aokigahara was far worse than they had imagined.

_______________________________________________________________

Kakashi stood frozen in the darkened classroom, his mind racing as the eerie whisper of Obito’s voice echoed through the air. It couldn’t be real. Obito was gone, long dead. But the voice was unmistakable.

“Kakashi…”

The voice came again, this time clearer, more insistent. It seemed to be coming from the walls, the very air itself.

Suddenly, the room darkened further, and the shadows that had once seemed so still began to move, creeping closer to Kakashi like tendrils of darkness. His Sharingan flared, trying to track their movement, but they were too fast, too elusive.

“Kakashi… you failed me…”

The words hit him like a physical blow. He knew it wasn’t real. He knew this was the work of the darkness, of the curse that lingered over the village. But it didn’t matter. The guilt, the regret—it was all too real.

The shadows coiled around him, tightening like a noose. Kakashi struggled to breathe, his mind racing as the memories of his past flooded back—Obito’s death, Rin, the war. All the lives he had lost. All the people he had failed to save.

“Kakashi…”

He dropped to his knees, clutching his head as the shadows whispered relentlessly, filling his mind with doubt, with guilt.

“Kakashi!”

A sharp voice cut through the fog, breaking the grip of the shadows. Kakashi’s eye shot open, and he saw Yukari standing in the doorway, her Byakugan glowing fiercely. She rushed toward him, her chakra flaring as she dispelled the dark energy that had been suffocating him.

“Kakashi, are you okay?” she asked, her voice filled with concern.

He nodded weakly, pushing himself to his feet. “Yeah… I’m fine. Just… memories.”

Yukari’s expression softened, but there was no time for sympathy. “We need to go. There’s something bigger happening here. The villagers… they’re still here, trapped somehow. We need to figure out how to free them.”

Kakashi took a deep breath, steadying himself. He couldn’t let the past haunt him now. They had a mission to complete.

“Let’s find Shinji,” he said, his voice resolute. “We’re going to end this.”

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