Iruka stepped into the classroom, his usual steady pace faltering for just a moment when his eyes landed on Sasuke.
So… he's finally here.
He had expected it would take longer for the boy to recover, if recovery was even possible after something like that. The loss of one's parents… Iruka knew that pain all too well. For a fleeting moment, guilt and pity stirred in his chest.
But he didn't let it show.
His expression remained neutral as he crossed the room, taking his place at the front. With a practiced motion, he set down his clipboard and began the day's attendance.
The door slid open with a sharp slam.
Every head turned toward the noise. Iruka's brow twitched, a vein already threatening to pop.
"Naruto! You're late again!" he barked, voice echoing through the room.
"Sorry, Sensei! I—uh—I woke up late today!" Naruto blurted, rubbing the back of his head with a sheepish grin. Then, as if scrambling for cover, he added, "B-but it's not my fault! My alarm… uh… didn't work!"
Iruka's jaw tightened, his hand curling into a fist.
Unbidden, an old, searing memory surfaced. His father shoving him away, the ground trembling beneath their feet. The massive red fox, nine tails lashing like living whips, loomed in his mind's eye.
His gaze flicked to the whisker marks on Naruto's cheeks. Everyone in the village knew what they meant. The boy was tied to that creature. The demon fox.
For a fleeting, shameful moment, Iruka imagined striking him down and ending the threat before it could grow. But the thought burned away as quickly as it came. He knew the weight of such an act and the consequences it would bring. He swallowed it, forcing himself back to the present.
"Take your seat," Iruka ordered, his tone clipped, eyes already back on the attendance sheet. He didn't spare Naruto another glance.
For once, Naruto didn't argue. He just shuffled to the nearest open desk in the front row, plopping down without a word.
A few snickers rippled through the room. The teasing spread like wildfire, drawing grins and chuckles.
But not from Sasuke.
He gave Naruto a single, fleeting glance, barely more than a flicker of his eyes, before his mind drifted elsewhere.
Back to that memory.
The one where he'd seen the boy standing atop the battlefield, cloaked in golden light, eyes burning with power. A far cry from the loud, clumsy fool the rest of the class knew.
He's going to be my biggest obstacle in destroying the village, Sasuke thought, recognizing the future powerhouse and the loyal hound of Konoha.
The memory of how easily Naruto forgave others, even those who had killed his parents and teacher, twisted Sasuke's expression into something close to disdain. He wanted to scoff aloud, to tear into that naïve idealism.
But then another thought struck him, one that made the bitterness curdle inward. His other self had been no better. Other than killing Danzō and Itachi, he'd done nothing truly lasting against Konoha. In the end, he had surrendered, rotted in a cell, and then spent the rest of his life guarding from the shadows the very thing that had annihilated his clan.
The idea alone made his jaw tighten.
Just thinking about it made Sasuke want to grab that other him by the collar, drive his fist into his face, and demand: What were you sorry for?
And he would.
One way or another, he'd make sure of it. Especially now, with what he knew about the multiverse, time travel, and other worlds, there was no doubt in his mind that somewhere, somehow, he'd meet that version of himself.
Still, Sasuke couldn't shake the thought. What if that other him had been trapped in some kind of genjutsu? It would explain a lot. Why else would he have lost the Rinnegan so easily, especially an eye that granted him the ability to swap positions instantly? That kind of mistake shouldn't have been possible.
Or maybe the answer lay in Indra's chakra.
He still didn't fully understand the connection. People said he was Indra's reincarnation, but Sasuke doubted it. If he truly were Indra, then how had Madara been summoned while he was alive? Only one reincarnation should exist at a time. What if it wasn't a soul being reborn? What if it was chakra?
And chakra was made up of both spiritual and physical energy. It could influence others. Naruto's whisker marks were proof of that, born from the Nine-Tails' chakra long before he ever learned to control it.
The thought darkened Sasuke's mood. Is it affecting me too?
It didn't feel like just a possibility anymore. He could almost believe it was already happening, his will being eroded little by little until one day he wouldn't be able to tell whether his decisions were truly his own or Indra's.
Maybe that was the real curse. Maybe losing to Ashura meant their hosts would be forced to follow Ashura's reincarnation.
That, Sasuke realized, was likely why Madara had ultimately followed Hashirama and why that other version of himself had followed Naruto after losing to him.
Is this a property of chakra itself? he wondered. Maybe that was why the Sage of Six Paths had wanted to use it—to make people understand "peace" and "love."
But when Sasuke thought of the Sage, all he felt was suspicion. That old bastard seemed more like a schemer than a protector of the shinobi world. Whatever his real motives were, Sasuke couldn't figure them out now, so he pushed the thought aside.
If that's how it works, he reasoned, then it should be possible for me to make Naruto follow me too if I become stronger than him. Defeat him, and then influence him.
The idea brought a brief flicker of satisfaction until a frown quickly replaced it.
Why am I even thinking about him? I wasn't interested in him before. Is it those other memories affecting me? Or is Indra's chakra itself excited by the thought of finally defeating Ashura?
Either way, there was no denying it. He and I were destined to stand on opposite sides.
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