The worst aspect of sentimental growth in character and wisdom is you would no longer succumb to indulging shallow, hollow sports regardless of their nature and essence. Unfortunately, we are passing our precious time amongst a society that is content with such matters, for the will to nurture commonly interests has been normalized. One may call it the societal artristry crisis, or rather an existential doom of civilization when we cease to strive for that idealistic vision. Why do i label that characteristic a fatal flaw? Well, because we are created to blend in, not to ward off. That is what our kind tends to believe, no?
It is to be noted that, in spite of the genre that one chooses or the archetypes he implements into a story, it should always be remembered that dignity is not to be stripped of oneself. Allegories are usually aspects of tales representing certain elements of the reality wherein we reside, or specific ideals that may be admirable or despicable. This command is applied to characters as well, who will carry on to be symbolically present in their arcs until they serve their purpose and finally reach the point wherein they bid farewell.
In order to achieve success, you must first learn to respect the fictional figure that personifies what or whom you loathe. Because if you fail to do so, you will consciously or subconsciously aim to bring ruin to the character, and in turn, that will have this ripple effect which would mangle the lore and narrative that you have built ever so laboriously. Simply for being incapable of retaining artistic dignity and self-esteem. Once that expectation is unmet, your architecture falls apart. There is no dream of a masterpiece, only a shell of its former self. A thread of wasted potential and more decent probabilities.
That is where The Boys becomes fettered. A live action show that began gloomy, fierce and unique. It was a fictional setting offering political art without prejudice, without sacrificing storytelling and character polishing for conveying social commentary and deep-seated frustrations. Why? Because the authors were competent and possessed that artistic dignity one would seek from those writing the script.
Once the first season concludes, you will sense that the atmosphere has shifted. It may have the same color and skin but the inside matter has certainly been mocked. It becomes more ridiculous, and less focused on authenticity anymore. It continues relying on repeated stereotypes and disgusting satires to fill the void of what made the precious season awe-inspiring. You are on the ride thinking maybe this is where the story no longer takes itself seriously anymore, and instead wishes to reflect a parody of a society.
The worst case scenario occurs. Inadequacy results in catastrophe.
Political art vanishes, and political trash is introduced.
For a show that preaches justice and feminism and equality, do se ever truly witness honest, faithfully depicted representations of such ideals?
No.
Why?
Because it is all merely for nought.
It is all a bunch of fancy words.
Conceptions not manifested from fantasy into reality.
When someone ultimately rises to criticize the wretched wreckage it has become, then they are chastised and mocked and compared to abhorrent beasts of history because God almighty forbid if a soul has learnt to voice their unsettled state of being and how distasteful a situation is.
The wise ones know what i am speaking of, however, you can ask how is it that this globally acclaimed TV show suddenly was brought down from pedestal.
Ah... wait, was it truly an immediate fall from grace?
Or it was an inevitable, prolonged demise?
I can point to how Starlight was legitimately a victim of character assassination and officially made into one of the most loathesome figures in later seasons.
I can talk about how Hughie had to sit and actually be an instrument of amusement for Kripke when he was sexually assaulted by Tech Knight, and later was scolded by his girlfriend for copulating with a supe who could seamlessly imitate her mannerism and appearance.
I can express the grief for Black Noir as one of the most nuanced and mysterious antagonists favored by audience would be reduced to a talkative prick adding absolutely nothing to the plot.
Are we supposed to believe Ryan is to be liked due to now being allowed to drink a bear and curse his father with a few f-word slurs because that is what some would think a compelling male character is nowadays?
All the wait for Kimiko to voice her thoughts just for her to be yet another foul-mouthed girl that was rendered into a deus ex machina because Soldier Boy should have been prevented from stealing the spotlight from this empowered female character?
Is it The Deep who was never allowed to grow past his obsession with Homelander and become a better person, and to be foolishly humiliated at his last breath...
Oh, wait...
Was it even Homelander that parted ways with us?
Are we truly certain that it was the menacing god-human with a twisted personality that implied a longing for a sensation so intimate?
It was the caricature of orange guy, right?
How did he end?
Did he fulfill the prophecy of scorched earth?
Also... was he truly the cause of the miserable state of the world?
Why does Homelander matter so much in The Boys?
Because he is the only reason the audience deemed The Boys watchable.
It is just as Zaffy said: There is no other character who changed the landscape of popular culture to the extent that Homelander did. Everybody else is far beneath him.
Worsen it by having Butcher become no more charming and embeace his darkness as Homelander nears the state of fragile humanity, and then there are those who have the audacity to ask why many were devastated when the villain was brought to justice?
The reason is that Butcher slayed JOHN.
The lovelorn child stripped of any chance to be just like any other toddler.
The boy who was caged and raised to be the instrument of war and chaos.
The lady who yearned one intimate bond from this life as his share of this world.
And the fandom bore witness to his heartstring long before his life was taken by an agent of vengeance who is barely noble anymore.
Homelander met his doom and it felt not satisfying because there was no grand conclusion to the story or his character.
It was not poetic.
It was idle and rushed.
At the end of the day?
Nothing changed in the world.
The company who turned John into Homelander would continue to mock more humans into fiends.
Do you see the bitter irony in this piece?
Kripke placed all the blame on Homelander for he was deluded into believing this fictional figure must suffer in order for the story to be completed, and for the characters to attain salvation. Therefore, John had to suffer a humiliation ritual for Kripke and his kindred spirits to be soothed.
Did it worth the cost?
No.
This is not the first Kripke fails a beloved artwork, either.
You can ask Supernatural fandom.
Just as Hughie is not alone in being laughed at for being raped. Sam Winchester was, too.
It was a game that Kripke and his like-minded peers won.
Everyone who desired an epic mythology remained to despair.
To ponder how they could have had a fulfilling experience with their cherished hobby.
Pardon me for stalling you from leaping to another post. Be with God, and may you have the brightest of dreams and most graceful of fortune in your paths.
I guess it is about time i take a couple of minutes to finally return to ATLA pantheon, and as astonishing as it may be for those who fondly remember me as a ZuTara shipper, i have grown to be far more enamored with the conception of ZuToph than i had ever imagined.
Mistake not, for it is not that i was incapable of apprehending the true abysmal depth of such a love affair had it been considered to be manifested into the canon lore. ZuTara had been a primary aspect of my soul as a savant whose field of sport engulfs fictional realms, and it was because of the ending of the show that i never truly felt urged to rewatch it. I never ceased to adore ATLA, that is far from truth, yet i could not attend the tall tale whilst aware of how it would bitterly conclude.
Here i am, after having watched Avatar Aang: The Last Airbender 2026 movie... I am conflicted. Why?
Is it because they could have portrayed Zuko as a more compelling character? Yes.
Is it because i wished for Suki and Ty Lee to reappear and have more significant roles after 18 years? Yes.
Is it because i am baffled by how Sokka was no more than a jester in a 90 minute film? Yes.
But...
The existential crisis is born of the realization that the release of this movie did not revive the passion within me to fantasize about Zuko and Katara together.
No.
It is for Toph had successfully conquered a place in my heart that i deem her befitting of becoming the eternal company of Zuko. That is equivalent of betraying my lifelong bride, and it is aggravating. It deeply terrifies me.
Do you know why it is still not as insolent as i expected it to be?
Because i am no more the same 13 years old boy who finished ATLA and wept over the grave of the endgame that ZuTara could have been.
Toph exists, and she is beside Zuko. There is no tension between them. There is no banter between them. There is no *Mai* between them.
It is as if Toph was forever meant to be with Zuko.
Royalties who wished to liberate themselves from their shackles and earned their hard-bought, well-deserved honor?
Socially inept masters of different elements who were thought to be self-serving despite of their constant demonstration of altruism?
Prodigies who were frail and thought to be doomed until they brought themselves from that bowel of despair and became whole?
Do you see the common ground?
The wellspring of similarities?
It is now more effortless grasping why Toph was far less resistant against the request of Zuko to join Gaang, or how the two rarely ever needed verbal communication to understand one another. That is called natural chemistry, and it cannot be imitated.
Would i cease to enjoy ZuTara? Most probably not.
However, this is my confession to Avatar fandom to learn that we are on our transformative arcs, just as Toph and Zuko were. We will never be able to predict where the wave of the sea would lead us to, and when we finally step foot on the island, that is the point wherein we seizes wonders of the creation and newfound passions that drive us. The solace that was buried deep within, and it took years, or even decades for it to prove useful as the balm to our scarred souls.
Pardon me for wretching your weary minds, and i wish you the most prosperous of destinies in the path of life. Be with god.
Summary: What is the price way for pride and honor? How would younglings carry such overwhelming burdens on their shoulders?
Main Pairing: MitsuSara
Main Characters: Mitsuki, Sarada Uchiha, Sasuke Uchiha
Warning: Graphic Depiction of Violence
Date: June 19th 2038
Location: The Land of Key, Hidden Lock Village
‘There is no end to this…’ She wonders, whilst she leaps circles around her splendid enemy that is unleashing upon her a rain of fiery gates that tower the mountains nearby.
Sarada Uchiha has long exerted herself, and that which furthers the battle is her mettle and ambition. The crimson eyes of hers see but a distorted vision of the titanic dark figure before her. ‘Thank god he has the silver mane, otherwise i would be doomed…’ She thinks, and she curses herself for it. ‘Where are you now, Mikki?’ She ponders after being reminded of her supremely prodigious teammate. The one person that eases each task by assisting her cleave their way through any and all obstacles through polished cooperation tactics and the mystical gift of being capable of reading the mind one another, such privilege are absent in this battlefield, thus the scarlet princess has remained by herself, relying on her very own talent and fortune.
Has it became a restrictive hobby for her? Fighting wars alongside the crescent prince? Sarada cannot answer that in the heat of the moment.
However, there should be more than just regrets and doubts in her mirage. There is a lesson behind each shortcoming, and she is not willing to suffer a defeat after reaching a close to victory.
Sarada fills her lungs with air, and before her adversary has the opportunity to shoot, she releases a tremendous wave of wind at him. The steel armor is torn to shreds, and the flesh coated in wounds, and the bones crack. She deems the man estimable for resisting the ferocious stream of gale for a brief while, but she finds him not worthy enough for her to hold back. She augments her technique, and the man is plunged into a barrow, shattering it into countless shards, and Sarada begins to sprint towards the foe flipping across the ocean as she charges with chidori on her right hand. The lightning echoing through the valley and evaporating the water, and just as she is about to land the finishing blow, her opponent jumps on his feet and pulls out a summoning scroll to throw into her face, and slams his hands on the ocean to form a water barrier around Sarada.
Boom!
A flash of light blinded her temporarily, and almost silenced her five senses. However, she could still feel numerous blades itching her flesh, and her body growing dull quickly as she fell on the surface of the ocean.
“Consider yourself fortunate, little girl, and drift into ambitious dreams for your own sake.” The silver-haired man yells, aware that Sarada will only hear fumfer and dithers upon being engulfed by his technique, which has left in her form an overwhelming amount of poison that should certainly hold her down long enough for him to do as he pleases with her. Yet, he chooses to flee.
Alone.
“Come back…” Sarada crawls towards the man, but he vanishes from her sight in a moment, and she slams her fist into the water in frustration. “He was the only one left standing…” She mutters, as she looks over her shoulder where hundreds of rogue ninjas are flattened by her valorous strikes. She forces herself on her feet as she overbreathes, and strolls to her village.
.
.
.
Date: June 20th 2038
Location: The Land of Fire, Hidden Leaf Village
“Has it not been a long while, Mikazuki?” Mitsuki mutters as he rubs the furry back of his cat, which purrs at his gentle touch. Mitsuki places a bowl of milk before his pet, as well as a bowl of food for the feline, and raises on his feet as he senses a dim presence behind him.
A snake herald of his remains still on the vanity table, having twirled itself around the picture frame of Mitsuki with Boruto and Sarada, but it leans towards the kunoichi, and that molds the gentle expression on the face of the serpent prince into a fierce gaze. Mitsuki approaches the snake and holds his hand before it so it crawls its way.
“Mitsuki-kun. I hope you've been feeling well since your mission outside of the village.” An amiable and aloud figure speaks through the summoning animal, thus Mitsuki tilts his head as if he has already figured the rest of the untold conversation. “Could you please head towards the hospital where i am occupied? Emergency call, if you may.” The person pleads, to which Mitsuki sighs.
“I shall be present before you in an instant.” Mitsuki responds, and fades to leave a cluster of dust and smoke in place, which leaves Mikazuki bamboozled.
“Hello, Sakura-san.” Mitsuki greets the president of the medical facility, who is standing in the yard waiting for his arrival with her hands in pockets.
“Pardon me for this inconvenience. I just couldn't leave this matter to anyone else's hands.” Sakura insists, with a stoic look that cannot hide from Mitsuki what lies behind the facade.
“Sarada…” Mitsuki whispers before he starts looking around attentively, and Sakura understands he has been trying to find her for a while.
“Yes… i… she's finished her mission in the hidden lock village but didn't come back robust and unscathed, you see…” Sakura explains, and draws her hands out of the pockets.
“Following that, she avoided proper treatment, and refrained from attending here. Is that correct?” Mitsuki speculates.
“That's right. She seems to be poisoned, and i know how difficult it is for her to deal with this feeling of inadequacy… but i just cannot bring myself to face her. I'm afraid i might scold her and put her in a position which hurts her even more than she already is suffering…” Sakura confesses, and rubs her left arm in this state of uneasiness.
“I understand.” Mitsuki replies, and turns to Sakura with a determined expression on his silvery mask.
“I'm ashamed of placing this burden upon you, and don't know how i can thank you enough for it… in any way i possibly could…” Sakura utters, her pattern of movement nearly awkward in the eyes of the child prodigy.
“I am not committing to this for you or anyone else. You might have entrusted your daughter to me, however, i carry this task for my sake.” Mitsuki admits.
“I'm glad she has you to look after her.” Sakura says. “She gets brash at times, and she desperately needs somebody as calm and composed as you to keep her recklessness in check.” Sakura tells Mitsuki, and puts her hand on his shoulder.
“There is no need for gratitude, madame.” Mitsuki mutters, and heads towards an unknown place. He pauses in his path for a moment, and looks over his shoulder at Sakura. “Once the inevitable occured… I wish for you to blame not yourself.” He utters aloud, and begins to walk quickly in the alleys.
Mitsuki could see nothing. Hear nothing. Feel nothing. There was only one thought that concerned him. One that led him to its residency.
Mitsuki never realized how long his path was, and he sees the window to the room of Sarada has not been fully closed. He senses no presence from within the house, and he enters the space to search for a clue. The golden eyes captured the slight shift in the order of decoration, and his sharp nose absorbed the faint scent of dried blood and sweat. Other than that, there seems to be nothing worth investigating.
Except for a note, on the bookshelf.
It has stuck out of the black and aurelian book of ‘Children of Chaos’ written by Tsubasa Emiya, and he could tell that it is not a page from the volume itself, for its color palette and design differ greatly, too scintillating and buoyant with their crimson lines and cherry blossom pink background.
Mitsuki is hesitant at first, until a breeze detaches the note and leaves it resting on the side of her bed. Mitsuki gazes upon it.
Is it a part of a diary?
Is it calligraphy?
Poetry.
No.
‘A vivid dream,
A steel soul,
A scarlet rose,
A heavy life.
And the moon is wandering,
When the sky is raging,
The star remains pondering…
If she is proud in her burning?’
Mitsuki grits his teeth, and nearly touches the page, but pulls his trembling hand back and away, and leaves the house with heavy and flashy steps.
“Hey, Mitsuki. What's up?” Boruto, with a bite of his favorite green chili hamburger of lightning burger in his mouth, catches his teammate storming across the road. Inojin and Shikadai are by his side, and they open the way for the white haired boy.
“Step aside, Boruto.” Mitsuki mutters and gets past Boruto, his grim aura unsettling the trio of friends and leaves them shuddering in their places.
“Have you seen him this mad before?” Shikadai asks, as he clutches into bottle of kiwi soft drink in his hand.
“I dunno, and i don't want to know.” Inojin responds, and gulps, and seeks a seat to take.
Boruto for once is frightened of his teammate, and wonders what is he aiming for at the end of the tunnel.
Mitsuki witnesses Naruto standing infront of the gates to the village, and yet, he refuses to lessen his speed.
Just as the seventh hokage opens his mouth to voice his command, the dragon sage glances at him with his very own golden eyes, and the nine tails jinchuriki freezes in his place, too. A gaze far too cold, and infernal, even for a sage of six paths such as the child of prophecy himself.
“Damn it… what the hell was that… remorseless stare of his..?” Naruto whispers to himself as a pearl of sweat falls from his temple and dangles on the curve of his jaw, watching the moon prince drift into the setting sun.
“Worry not… The shinobi world shall applaud me for this duty which i shall carry with my very own hands…” Mitsuki claims, and vanishes from the sight of Naruto before the latter could even mutter a single word.
.
.
.
Date: June 21st 2038
Location: The Land of Key, Hidden Lock Village
The village leader wakes to the deafening symphony of thunder.
Konatsu Hiyama, the current jokage, fourty one years old, a woman of brunette complexion and with brown eyes and pepper orange hair, seeks to condone the noises until she hears explosions across the country.
“I TOLD YOU NOT TO ASSAULT THE GIRL, MY LADY!” The silver haired man, Rikishi enters the room hurriedly, but his lady is far too concerned about what is happening outside, unnerved by the frightened screeching souls that are running for their lives, to turn her attention to her subordinate and chastise him for his intrusion. “SARADA UCHIHA MAY HAVE BEEN SPARED, BUT WE SHALL PAY THE PRICE FOR WOUNDING HER!” The man continues to admit as he yells from the top of his lungs, and Konatsu slowly lifts her head to see from the window what kind of hell has been unleashed upon them.
The houses struck by lightning bolts.
The streets flooded by the ocean.
And the people…
“HE WILL NOT REST UNTIL HE HAS SCOURGED US AL!” Rikishi shouts.
Konatsu gazes upon him.
The demon of death.
The angel where it all burns.
A legend out of myth, a fairy tale, they all said.
Now she sees him in flesh.
Those demonic silk of white hair, and the sinister golden eyes that thirst for blood.
The beast of calamity captures the scent of overwhelming dread, and stares into the soul of the elderly woman. He releases the spine of a prey of his, and turns to his next victim.
Konatsu thinks of escaping, but the apex predator appears within her shelter in less than an instant, with his left knee and left claw on the ground. The monster is coated in blood of a thousand warriors who could not survive against him. They could not even fight back.
He does not blink.
Before Rikishi could decide what to do, his body is shrouded in flashes of light, and he collapses.
Not dead, but mortally wounded.
Poisoned.
“I heed you once… that there shall be… no final warning…” Mitsuki mutters as he approaches Konatsu.
“Please… it was a foolish mistake… i know… i… what is it that you want in life? I can grant you any wish you desire…” Konatsu stutters.
“Oh, Himaya-san. Kneel before me.” Mitsuki whispers calmly, and does so fall on his own knees in an instant in a maniac fashion that makes Konatsu fall back onto her table. “BEG FOR MERCY! PRAY TO HEAVENS FOR REPENTANCE! OFFER ME YOUR LIFE AND YOUR UTMOST LOYALTY!” Mitsuki shouts like a madman and closes the gap between him and her and stands before the royal woman. “Whisper those same drivels that your brethren did BEFORE I TORE OPEN THEIR CHESTS TO POUR OUT THEIR UNHOLY HEARTS!” Mitsuki screams in the face of Konatsu, and smirks at her.
The wrath of Mitsuki seeping into the form of Konatsu robs her of the ability to breath, and he grabs her by the neck and soars into the sky, and forms a lance of violet lightning in his right hand which he thrusts into the mouth of the woman and sews her body into the island.
Mitsuki descends, and watches the light of Konatsu's being fade away.
The smile on Mitsuki's face vanishes, and thus he walks towards the edge of the island.
Mitsuki swims into the ocean, and releases his every bit of rage and hate in the embrace of the sea, choosing baptism before he finally returns to the girl whom he adores.
“This place reeks of malignancy. I shall bring about its doom.” Mitsuki mutters, and with a wave of his hand, and the ocean wraps the island in a prison of water, and Mitsuki leaps into the sea as the island freezes over and shatters into annihilation.
.
.
.
Date: June 20th 2038
Location: The Land of Fire, Hidden Leaf Village
Mitsuki jumps out of the ocean and enters the village from the gate once more, but this time, Naruto is not exposed to a dark power possessed by the dragon sage. The white haired boy smiles at the aurelian haired man, even, and that shift in behavior only tells the latter of a more troublesome matter.
‘He erased a whole country from the world map… just because their rogues ambushed Sarada…’ Naruto thinks to himself, as he watches Mitsuki change direction into a different street.
Naruto could not even prevent that, for it was predestined.
It was divine retribution.
Mitsuki merely acted as the wrath of god, and laid waste to the land of the abhorrent.
The rest of countries shall not mention this disaster, for the land of keys shall be brought to existence anyway, and the destroyed nation was only threatening their privacy and benefited them not. Even if they were to make a move, they would have to challenge not just The Hidden Sound Village, but also The Hidden Leaf Village which is supported by divine pillars such as Naruto Uzumaki, Sasuke Uchiha and Tsubasa Emiya. There is hope in questioning this catastrophe.
Mitsuki heads towards the medical laboratory wherein Sumire works, for he has heard of troubles she might have that she would not be able to overcome on her own.
He steps inside the facility, and politely nods at everyone with a beaming face, and quietly tracks the position of the genius kunoichi. He takes the stairs and heads towards the fourth floor, then to the left and spots Sumire reeling on her chair, pulling her hair.
He sneaks up on her, and playfully places his cold hands in front of her eyes.
“GAAHH! MITSUKI-KUN?!?” Sumire becomes flustered, which makes Mitsuki chuckle, and he lets the girl see the light for once. She cannot bring herself to look at him directly, for she is trying to hide from him her reddened cheeks, and he bends over to look above her shoulder at the desk before her.
“What is it, ‘class-rep’?!?” Mitsuki teases Sumire, and she turns to her with teary eyes, at which the boy pouts. “Oh… right…”
“My microscope just died… and i can't repair it…” Sumire pouts, too, and Mitsuki just sits beside her on a chair.
“Well, i am capable of manifesting your wish.” Mitsuki responds.
“Really?” Sumire cries, glancing at Mitsuki with her curious eyes.
“Yes, indeed.” Mitsuki mutters, and pats Sumire on top of the head. “Please… weep not…” Mitsuki whispers, and grabs a scroll from his pouch, then opens it on a table and begins his craftsmanship.
Sumire watches him invent the device in awe, something that she had not seen before. At times she becomes afraid the gizmo would blow up, so she hides behind Mitsuki, and at other times she devours him with her violet orbs, not sure if this will even be anything but a fruitless effort?
Mitsuki grasps a strand of hair on the coat of Sumire and drops it in the volumetric flask filled with phenol chloroform to extract her DNA. “Choose a color of your liking.” He asks, as he seems to be nearly finished with the creation of advanced lenses.
“Icy blue..?” Sumire decides, and Mitsuki carries on.
It takes exactly eight minutes and forty four seconds to prepare the invention, and Mitsuki reaches for the chin of Sumire and places the lenses in her eyes.
“Magnificent.” Mitsuki utters. “I dare you to claim Boruto is ‘cooler’ than me, now.” He jokes, and that makes Sumire raise an eyebrow, displeased but at once shocked to see Mitsuki stand up to leave, showing no desire for gratitude.
Mitsuki wishes good luck to the employees before exiting the facility and looks at both sides of the street. “I wonder how long it lasts before she-”
“MITSUKI-KUN!” Mitsuki becomes jumpscared, and gets into defensive position, but the violet haired girl wraps her arms around his neck and holds onto him tightly. “This would earn you billions if you were to sell it. Omni-vision? And it's unbreakable? What have i done to deserve this grand gift from you?”
“I know not… perhaps you were merely a fair, graceful lady…” Mitsuki says, patting Sumire on the back awkwardly. “... Not again…”
“Oh no…” Sumire mumbles with her cheek pressed against Mitsuki's own. “Can i ask what's the deal with you and her?”
“Lord… please take my life…” Sumire murmurs under her breath, to which Mitsuki reacts by biting his lip in frustration and gently places her on the bed. He can see her embarassed of herself for falling for his beauty and charm, and that is hilarious to him. She jumps onto her feet after a few seconds, and pretends as if nothing ever happened between them.
“I only… just hate almost everything about her.” Mitsuki admits, as he catches Chocho charging towards him like the jealous, unhinged crush he has never had or wanted. “I am about to carry you around the village and save us both from this fanatical succubus of a titan.” He murmurs, and holds Sumire in his arms bride style, then dashes above Chocho's head and runs circles around the hidden leaf, and descends on the balcony of his room, enters the room and waits to ensure his nuisance no longer chases after them.
.
.
.
Date: June 20th 2038
Location: The Land of Snow, Hidden Snow Village
Mitsuki keeps vigil on the a titanic pine tree, as his teammates and mentor rest beneath his feet in a large tent. From atop he can hear Boruto snoring, and Konohamaru scratching his belly in sleep, and Sarada…
Sarada…
She appears to be awake.
Sarada attentively scans her surroundings to make certain everyone is asleep, and when she does, she lays her head on her pouch, but substitutes herself with a clone, and she travels under the ground ro remain unnoticed.
But Mitsuki could still sense her.
“Tsk tsk tsk tsk tsk tsk.” Mitsuki mutters, and realizes that Sarada is going to reach a lake, not so far away from the camp.
Sarada pops out of a hole near a pine tree beside the frozen lake, and starts massaging her bare arms.
“Since when do we conceal from each other our scars?” Mitsuki startles Sarada, who could barely stand on her own, and is unable to make direct eye contact with him.
“Don't you want to fix me already?” Sarada says, being satirical, but Mitsuki bats no eye nor does he find it amusing. He approaches her, and wraps one arm around her shoulder, allows her to rest on his own shoulder. “Do i have to… take this off..?” She refers to her shirt, and she already knows the answer, so she reluctantly and shyly drops that to leave her with her black tank-top.
Mitsuki takes a fist of snow in his hand before Sarada, who warms the frosty element into hot water, and Mitsuki purifies the liquid before he holds his hand before the mouth of Sarada so she drinks from it, and he controls the flow of the holy water within her body so it scatters across her every fiber of being and absorbs the poison from it. In a process that lasts seconds, Mitsuki finishes it by releasing the toxin in the form of cold sweats that appear on the skin of Sarada, and gathers them into the palm of his hand for her to see. “Colorless… odorless poison. It would have resulted in instant death had it were anybody else. Be grateful to your parents for the heredity you were born with.” Mitsuki states, and seals the impure water into the void. He traces the scars on the body of Sarada, and engulfs her with his jade light that brings back her perfect form.
Sarada grabs her shirt to wear it, which she does with a blank expression on her face. “Thanks.” She mutters, and when she decides to move away and head for the camp, Mitsuki grabs her wrist. It is gentle, not fierce, and yet Sarada sees no will within to resist him. “Mikki…”
“Was it so difficult living with your failure?” Mitsuki asks, and Sarada's knees begin to tremble. “That you sought to punish yourself? For what exactly?” Mitsuki continues, and Sarada clenches her free fist. “For you wish to become the hokage? The mightiest of them all? From which book of wisdom did you read the hokage were infallible creatures? Did you really consider yourself to be such an entity? Is that why it brought you shame and tarnished your dignity?” Mitsuki brings forth so many questions that leaves Sarada on the verge of weeping, and he reaches for her other hand to pull her towards himself, and sits her on his laps. He takes off her glasses, and rubs her soft cheek. “You robbed yourself of a hard-bought rest. Your obsidian eyes lament a lesson you are unwilling to learn: You are not perfect. No one is. To pretend otherwise would be a quixotic perception of mankind.” Mitsuki states and wraps his left arm around the waist of Sarada. “If Boruto was to fall… and perish… i shall probably let loose and seek poetic justice on his behalf. However… i am terrified of the possibility wherein i lose you… i reject a reality devoid of you… i shall smite it to naught…” Mitsuki confesses as he gazes into the eyes of his beloved, whose shuddering fingers touch the silvery face of his. “Fear not… though the world forsakes you, i shall forever remain by your side.” Mitsuki asserts, and kisses Sarada on her eyelid. She gives in to his cold affection, and locks her arms around his nack, as she feels safe in the shelter of his embrace.
Sarada drifts into a vivid dream as she is resting her head on Mitsuki’s shoulder, who cradles her.
Sasuke watches Mitsuki keeping vigil over his daughter Sarada, and sighs, before she becomes one with the shadows and disappears from the land of snow.
Mitsuki senses a presence atop a tree not far from him on the left side, a revered figure of the darkness, and he turns his gaze into it.
.
.
.
Date: June 21st 2038
Location: Mahakara
The realm of darkness and wars.
An endless landmass governed by an azure moon.
Sasuke had brought Mitsuki to such a dimension, which belongs to The Left Hand of God himself, to spar with him.
A single swing of chidori blade sends Mitsuki sliding across the battlefield.
They have been fighting for hours.
Neither have sweat on them. Neither had grown fatigued.
“Tell me, Mitsuki… Did you enjoy suffering them?” Sasuke asks, and Mitsuki figures who he is referring to.
“At that moment, yes.” Mitsuki admits, and lifts the kusanagi, which Sasuke had given to him for this training session.
“Why did you do that?” Sasuke questions Mitsuki.
“I… was frightened… of bringing harm to Sarada with the roughness of my touch…” Mitsuki admits. “Therefore, i sought to liberate my mind from that sensation of immense rage.”
“Do you take pride in that action?” Sasuke wonders.
“No.” Mitsuki rejects.
“Would it be true if i said this vow has casted a burden too lofty on your shoulders?” Sasuke asks.
“...Perhaps that might be true.” Mitsuki admits.
“Do you wish to be released from the promise you made to me?” Sasuke questions Mitsuki.
“No…” Mitsuki responds.
“Why is it that you refuse to abandon this oath?” Sasuke interrogates.
“I would cease to have the sole purposein this life if i strip myself of this duty. The godcund onus… is mine to carry…” Mitsuki asserts, and gets into the fighting stance.
The tip of the blade Kusanagi scratching the landscape and freezes the surroundings, and Sasuke senses the resurgence of power within the prodigy which astonishes him.
‘He walks with the elegance of his father, and speaks with the grace of his mother… but this darkness… it belongs to Orochimaru…’ Sasuke thinks, and braces himself as Mitsuki creates an onyx chidori blade in his right arm, and charges towards the legendary uchiha.
Mitsuki bombards Sasuke with a series of sword slashes, pressuring him into defensive, and continues to attack as he flips in incredible speeds. Mitsuki then blocks the thrusts from Sasuke swiftly, and deduces the weak points in the style of his master, which he uses to advantage to toss aside the onyx lightning blade of the senior shinobi and delivers a flurry of kicks to his torso and follows be a leg sweep. Sasuke kips up to his feet and pulls out a scroll and unleashes electric shurikens upon Mitsuki, who evades every single one of them, and he throws his own onyx chidori blade as he bounces around the projectiles before he kicks it at Sasuke who seeks to deflect it but it turns into a serpent and latches onto his arm. Sasuke forges a susanoo hand for his left arm, but not faster than Mitsuki who has his hand stretch and grab the ankle of the shadow hokage, and he pulss himself towards the dark robed warrior to dropkick him on the chest just to be caught by feet. A distraction that Mitsuki used with a clone to attack Sasuke from behind, almost hitting him with a heavenly kick of pain, but refrains, and places his hands on Sasuke's shoulders to jump above his head.
Mitsuki's feet touch the ground, and in that same instant Sasuke deflects kusanagi with such strength that it is tossed aside and out of Mitsuki's possession, and Sasuks punches Mitsuki in the belly, and that nearly forces the prodigy onto his knees. But he straightens his back to look his mentor in the eyes, to show that he has learnt his lesson.
“You could have finished the battle numerous times.” Sasuke utters.
“I wanted to be battle-hardened, to have my senses sharpened, and my ideals demonstrated.” Mitsuki murmurs, and goes to claim Kusanagi once again.
“Your shoulder…” Sasuke notices Mitsuki has been injured, and not the boy himself once realized it until he had reached the ancient relic.
“Oh…” Mitsuki looks at his left shoulder, the one that anchors his dominant hand being damaged, and with an aggressive push he fixes the dislocated shoulder of his, before he grabs the sword in his left hand, and reaches for its sheath to wrap it. Mitsuki, however, is not impatient with this seemingly minor task of his, and takes his time treating Kusanagi with such awe and respect as he wraps the sword in an artistic fashion. He approaches Sasuke again, and kneels before the demiurge of shadows with his legs tucked under in the seiza position, sitting humbly in front of his mentor as he is resting the sword on his laps, and his gaze sewn into the stone mattress of the dark world.
“This sword, as you know, shall answer to no other soul's command aside from mine, unless i will it. This is the essence of such mystical relics, as they are obtained through valorous labors. That shall be accomplished by not only honing your swordsmanship prowess, but also steeling your soul, as well. I, Sasuke Uchiha, The Left Hand of God, hereby declare you worthy of wielding my relic.” Sasuke asserts, and watches Mitsuki to see his answer.
Mitsuki merely lifts Kusanagi with trembling hands of his, not out of exhaustion or the immense weight of the blade, but that which cannot be seen with the naked eye. “Such power is not my destiny…” Mitsuki mutters, and shuts his eyes, awaiting Sasuke's retrieval of the divine sword.
Sasuke reclaims Kusanagi, and holds its sheath on his side with the force of gravity, and touches the right shoulder of Mitsuki with his sword, and flips it over above his to do the same with the left shoulder of his to perform the ceremonial accolading.
“Why?” Mitsuki asks.
“For your own sake, Mitsuki. There is a darkness in your heart deeper than any shadow. A beast of calamity that cannot be reasoned with. You must be anchored to the brilliance of Sarada, and find the resilience required to silence the eternal temptations within.” Sasuke states, and offers Mitsuki his hand. “You have tired yourself relentlessly. Allow your form to be at ease, once you let it heal.” Sasuke helps Mitsuki rise up, and teleports the two of them to the hidden leaf village.
“This is not…” Mitsuki whispers, and is cut off by Sasuke knocking on a door. “Why did you bring me to Uzumaki Household?” Mitsuki wonders.
Hinata opens the door, and upon capturing the image of Mitsuki with her white orbs she wastes no time attending to his needs.
“Sorry, Hinata. Sakura has been quite busy in the last few days.” Sasuke tells the byakugan princess, and she merely nods.
Hinata is aware that Mitsuki can nearly regenerate from any and all injuries, but she can see the marks of dried blood on his bare torso and arms as she is recovering his lost energy and chakra pathways. “There is no grand virtue in suffering yourself.” Hinata murmurs in the ear of Mitsuki.
“When i feel not the pain inflicted upon this flesh?” Mitsuki asks. “Perhaps you are right.”
Hinata listens, and Sakura and Naruto watch from afar as she despairs upon the words muttered by Mitsuki.
“Which is more saddening to behold: A shoulderless tear, or a sullen soul who never sheds any tears?” Sakura brings forth this question, to which not even Naruto could give an answer.
“Mom..?” Boruto stays dumbfounded looking from across the hall, and she can feel the melancholy of his mother's soul and see the shaking body of hers. He comes out when Hinata is done healing Mitsuki, and the boy is accompanied by Sasuke, who guides the moon prince towards the scarlet princess.
Sarada runs towards Mitsuki, and stands before him to assess his mood. Mitsuki's eyes beam briefly at the sight of Sarada, and that is before she catches dwell in this abyss and emptiness.
Sarada takes hold of Mitsuki's hand, and leads him towards her favorite Taiyaki shop to order a few pieces for the three of them. Sasuke grabs his, and Mitsuki spends a while in his stillness before he reaches for the taiyaki. He sits on a chair with elbows resting on his legs as he stares at the ground.
Sarada offers some from her own taiyaki which she has bitten, and Mitsuki still makes no move. This terrifies her. The sensation of powerlessness. The inability to comfort her beloved ones. For the wounds of the flesh, there is a balm and stitches to close it. But for the psyche? That which one has not fully grasped yet? Sarada is unsure what would release Mitsuki of his suffering, and that causes her to despair, too.
“How often do you find yourself in this detached state of being?” Sasuke asks Mitsuki.
“Every once in a while… beneath the full moon… i reach a point where it seems… i am not enough… or this cosmos is no longer vast enough to contain my ideals within itself… i seek a purpose beyond that… a meaning that i cannot seize in this reality…” Mitsuki states, and lifts his head for the first time.
Then, an abnormality occurs.
It starts snowing.
On the summer solstice.
Some become filled with joy, and others deem it a bad omen.
Sasuke realizes that this is not just the hidden leaf village, but the whole planet that is being affected by this supernatural phenomenon.
Sasuke is the first to realize this is Mitsuki's own doing. A reflection of his contemporary state of being.
Sasuke and Sarada watch Mitsuki stand up to be under the falling frost and snow, perhaps to see if he could feel anything. He opens his arms to embrace whatever is about to come. Nothing seems to be willing to give that meaning to him.
Sasuke surmised that Mitsuki would choke up and finally begin sobbing after this long, but he understands that these pearls of snow are the tears that will never be shed. Sarada's fingers touch the cold skin of Mitsuki's face, to bring him solace. Mitsuki gently takes a hold of her hand, and marks her palm with a kiss, and touches the same fingers that write poems by his name. “In my world, you seem to be the one and only witness to the heartstring of existence…” She confesses to him, and rests her head on his chest. “Let me be yours, too…” Sarada stays there, but it just feels hopeless. Thus she pleads with her teary eyes to Sasuke, under the golden moon, to succeed where she fails.
Sumire gazes upon Mitsuki and Sarada from afar, striving to grasp the true meaning of love.
Therefore, with no hesitation, Sasuke kneels before Mitsuki and wraps his arm around his tender form, and lifts him up to hold him like a child of his own. Sasuke caresses Mitsuki on his back, and senses the boy resting his chin on his shoulder, loosening up at last.
“I am grown aweary of myself, Sasuke-san…” Mitsuki murmurs as he feels his eyes become exhausted.
“Slumber well, O valiant moon. Find solace in the pith of my tenebrous embrace.” Sasuke whispers to Mitsuki, and kisses him on the temple.
Boruto cannot put to words how he feels about this, seeing how the man he has admired most and chased for his acknowledgment be so genuine and relaxed with Mitsuki. What is it that he lacks? How much does it hurt him?
Sasuke walks the alleys knowing that Mitsuki was helplessly being watched by his father on the moon, and her mother on earth, and yet, could not be comforted by any of them for they were forbidden from becoming his shelter until he seizes the truth on his own.
Sasuke weeps, and a world would never bear witness to it. It matters not, for he can be a remedy for a child in whom he sees himself.
A boy that has always fought for his daughter, and shall continue to do so.
Hello, my name sooad Muhammad, I am a 61-year-old mother and former school teacher from Gaza💔
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My father is a cancer patient and needs surgery to remove the tumour
Hi, my name is Jupiter. For months I've been in contact with my friend Rabah, whose been trying to raise money for his father, Monis. They a
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shared by 90-ghost & el-shab-hussein, he has switched to using chuffed as the gofundme campaign has given him issues - if you click through to the source 90-ghost shares it will be the same campaign
rabah urgently needs to evacuate his father so that he can receive cancer treatment outside of gaza. in addition to this, his mother also has had her liver so badly damaged that she needs a hepatectomy in egypt as well
Presentation Hearing Update: What Really Happened in Court Today
January 29, 2026
Today marked a significant moment in our fight to bring Bennett home. The temporary custody order for the Director was granted—but the reality of what happened in that courtroom tells a very different story than what MCFD's allegations would have you believe.
The Judge's Findings
The most important thing to understand is this: the judge explicitly stated that protection concerns were NOT sustained.
Let me repeat that. The protection concerns—the very foundation of MCFD's case against me—were not sustained by the judge.
During the hearing, the judge made complimentary remarks about me and acknowledged my willingness to ask for and accept support. This wasn't a parent in denial or refusing help. This was recognition of someone actively seeking the resources needed to care for their child.
What Evidence Did the Judge Reject?
The judge placed NO weight on the video evidence presented by MCFD. The same videos they've used to build their narrative? Dismissed.
Instead, the judge preferred the testimony of Hasan (Bennett's previous Behavioural Interventionist) and Crystal (Bennett's previous Behaviour Analyst) over the written allegations from the social worker. These are professionals who actually worked with Bennett and me. They know our reality. They know the truth.
The Director's narrative was NOT favoured.
So Why Didn't Bennett Come Home?
This is the question everyone is asking, and the answer reveals everything wrong with this system.
The judge doesn't have the authority at a presentation hearing to order funding or supports from MCFD. During my testimony, I was honest—brutally, vulnerably honest. I cannot safely manage Bennett's complex needs without adequate support.
And because of that honesty, because I refused to pretend I could do the impossible without help, the judge couldn't return Bennett without those supports in place.
Understanding the Outcome
This was NOT a loss based on safety or parenting capacity.
This was a procedural limitation.
The only reason the judge couldn't return Bennett is because MCFD won't provide supports for him at home.
Let that sink in. My child remains in care not because I'm unsafe, not because I'm incapable, but because the very system that removed him refuses to provide the supports that would allow him to come home.
The Fight Continues
We're not giving up. We're not backing down. This hearing showed that the truth is on our side—the judge saw through MCFD's allegations and recognized the reality of our situation.
Now we move forward, building the plan that will bring Bennett home where he belongs.
Thank you to everyone who has supported us, shared our story, and stood with us through this fight.
We've only received two donations in the past month. We can't continue like this. My children need food, shelter, and heating. Please don't ignore me; you are my only hope. Please help me.
ا Please don't hesitate for a moment to donate. All of this will save my children from the horrors of war, from hunger and cold. Please, my heart breaks for my children.
I am Kawthar Y M Jadalhaq, a resident of Spain. I created this fundraising campaign to save my sister's husband Ahmed's family from the geno
To support through the KuCoin platform Tron network TRC20 USDT TVzmbYiNLrvQxeWuVEbZN5q4yYXAmzJwwd
I will not forgive anyone who ignores my children and family. We have no shelter left; we are fighting for our lives. Please don't ignore this. Donate or share. 😭💔
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