Uzumaki

Unlike the other monks, who slumbered soundly, Arthur woke up well before dawn.

The transformation technique, thankfully, wasn't a strain. It required minimal chakra and held its form for extended periods, even when he wasn't focusing on it.

He slipped out of the sleeping chamber, his destination being the koi pond again—the area with the highest concentration of the Temple's unique chakra.

Following the scroll's instructions, he hadn't eaten breakfast. Apparently, fasting allowed for a more efficient absorption process.

Fasting itself was a spiritual principle, one that helped those on earth endure their austere lifestyle. Arthur was no stranger to it and was more than willing to try.

He settled down in his usual spot with his eyes closed, focusing his chakra while steadying his breathing.

The cool air filled his lungs, tinged with a subtle energy he associated with the Hermit's Gift. It was a slow, meticulous, and almost meditative process in and of itself. Time passed; hours went by with him in a still position.

The koi continued swimming, oblivious to the transformation taking place within Arthur. Just as he felt a noticeable increase in power coursing through his veins, he heard a harsh voice nearby.

"Sora! You clumsy oaf! Look at what you've done! You spilled my tea all over my robes!"

Arthur partially opened his eyes, his gaze shifting towards the source of the commotion.

A group of three young monks stood huddled around a figure kneeling on the ground. The figure, a lanky child with a mop of messy hair, cowered under their accusatory glare.

"I... I'm sorry," he stammered. "I didn't mean to..."

"Excuses! You always mess things up, Sora!" another one of the older monks sneered with disdain. "Maybe you're not cut out for this life after all. Just forget about being a monk."

Sora flinched as if he were about to cry.

Arthur watched the scene unfold. He recognized this character. Although Sora was younger before his first appearance three years from now, he was undoubtedly the same Sora.

Sora was written to have been a monk from the Fire Temple who carries a piece of the Nine-Tails' chakra within him. This makes him a pseudo-Jinchūriki, a type of Jinchūriki that bears partial chakra from a Tailed Beast without having said Tailed Beast.

Sora's past is filled with hardship. His father sealed the Nine-Tails' chakra in him when he was young, then faked his own death. He grew up ostracized by the monks for having the Nine-Tails' chakra and feeling frustrated and insecure.

When he meets Naruto three years from now, they initially clash due to misunderstandings. However, they eventually bond over their shared experiences as Jinchūriki.

Sora would grow up to be a skilled ninja monk who fights with a triple-bladed claw and wind techniques.

The Nine-Tails' chakra grants him immense power and transformations, but it also causes him pain and makes him lose control.

He is ultimately deceived by his father again, leading him down a dark path, but thanks to Naruto's talk-no-jutsu, it helps him overcome this and find a better way forward.

Arthur watching this character now felt odd.

Bullying, even in a seemingly peaceful haven like the Fire Temple, was an intriguing sight. It only furthered the belief in how unfair and evil this world could get.

What if he could plant a seed here? He was here for a purpose, but that didn't mean he couldn't get involved in their internal squabbles.

First, he waited, unwilling to draw unnecessary attention. The younger monks eventually moved on, leaving Sora still slumped on the floor, wiping his tears.

Arthur rose from his meditation and approached the sobbing figure. Sora flinched as Arthur stopped before him, emotions stirring inside him.

"Are you alright?" Arthur asked in a gentle tone.

Sora looked up at him, his eyes surprised. Hardly anyone has ever approached him so politely.

"I... I spilled their stupid tea," he mumbled. "They said I wasn't good enough."

"Being a monk is about perfection, brother Sora," Arthur said, crouching low to meet the boy's gaze. "It's about perseverance, about learning from your mistakes. Everyone makes them. Even the strongest of monks like brother Chiriku."

Sora stared at him, curiosity replacing his despair.

"I… I didn't know."

Arthur paused, then chuckled softly, saying, "Let's just say, I understand what it's like to feel like you don't belong. But that doesn't mean you should give up. You have talent, brother Sora. You just need proper guidance."

The words were true as he spoke them. Sora blinked, surprised.

Arthur then offered to help the boy with his chores for the day. Sora, feeling hopeful, agreed and asked Arthur for his name.

"Why, you may call me brother Ryugetsu," he answered, placing a hand on Sora's shoulder. "Now, let's resume aiding the Temple in toiled drudgery."

"Umm, brother Ryugetsu…"

"Yes, young one?"

"What's drudgery mean?"

As the morning unfolded, an ease settled between them.

Arthur's silver tongue proved surprisingly efficient in gaining Sora's trust. They swept the courtyard together, and Sora found himself talking more than usual, the shared chores making him forget about his isolation.

He spoke of his frustrations with the other monks, their lingering distrust making him feel bad. Arthur listened intently, already aware of the story.

By midday, their bellies grumbled. Sora, touched by Arthur's unexpected companionship, insisted on sharing his meager lunch.

Arthur, however, had Sora wait as he got something more savoury. When he returned, it was with steaming dumplings, their scent a welcome change from Sora's usual fare.

"Thanks," Sora mumbled around a mouthful. "You didn't have to do that."

Arthur shrugged, saying, "We both got to eat, do we not?"

As they ate in a comfortable silence, Sora eventually blurted out, "You know, I wouldn't mind having someone to train with. Someone who gets it, you know?"

"Don't give up," Arthur said simply. "Strength comes in many forms."

His words struck Sora hard. No one had ever spoken of strength in such a way to the boy.

"It is not always about raw power, but about resilience, about holding onto your core even when the world seems determined to break you."

Determination ignited within Sora. Arthur's words truly affected his spirit.

The afternoon finally came as Arthur rose, brushing the dust off his clothes.

"Truly a fine lunch indeed, brother Sora," he said. "It is time I head back to meditating."

Sora felt a tad disappointed, the comfortable camaraderie fading with Arthur's departure.

"Will I see you around the Temple, brother Ryugetsu?"

Arthur paused at the exit and said, "Just remember: emotions cloud judgment. Don't let Nine-Tails' chakra control you."

With that enigmatic parting shot, Arthur turned and left into the gathering dusk. Sora's heart, perhaps filled with questions, strangely felt lighter than it had been in a long time.

Several hours later.

The first rays of dawn cast a rosy glow on the koi pond. Arthur rose from his meditation with a content exhale.

He focused inwardly, delving into his chakra network. His chakra pool was unique, different than most since he had unethically acquired chakra from others.

Once separated by pool lines of different colours, it was now one vibrant colour. The pool of chakra harmonized seamlessly with a brilliant yellow light emanating from within. That light was the Gift of the Hermit Group's chakra.

No smile showed on his face. He was merely content.

His time at the Fire Temple had been a success. He had not only honed his meditation skills but had also acquired a powerful new weapon in his arsenal.

This unique chakra was the key to completing the Thousand Hand Strike technique.

Returning his attention to the outside world, he rose from his position and began searching for a secluded spot within the temple grounds.

He settled upon a hidden alcove, nestled amidst a cluster of towering statues. The location was discreet, offering a clear line of sight to the surrounding area.

Placing a palm on that spot, he etched a flying raijin mark on the rough stone wall. This seal would allow him to teleport instantly to its location at any time he had chakra.

It was a valuable tool, especially since he would be venturing into uncharted territories. And if he were to recall, this was his first mark placed outside of the Leaf Village.

Now, with his escape route secured, it was time to depart.

He focused his chakra and performed the Smoke technique, changing his physical form into a swirling cloud of smoke.

Rising upwards, he drifted through the temple grounds. He wasn't sure when he would return, if ever, but this sanctuary could provide a safe haven should something terrible ever happen on his journeys.

As he ascended above the mountain peaks, the world unfolded beneath him. His sense of direction guided him towards the Leaf Village.

A long and arduous two-day journey, but his destination wasn't the Leaf Village itself. He steered his smokey form off course, heading towards a cluster of desolate hills that marked the outskirts of the village.

As he descended into the den of night, he transformed into a native passerby and disguised his chakra signature.

He had reached his destination—an abandoned shrine. Not just any shrine, but the Uzumaki's Clan Noh Mask Hall!

It was written that within its dusty halls lay a collection of devil's masks. And out of all of these masks, one held a special property.

Arthur approached the temple with cautious steps. Pushing open the creaking wooden doors, he was met with an interior steeped in darkness.

Moonlight filtered through gaps in the broken roof, illuminating a scene. Broken statues, moss-covered walls, and a thick layer of dust showed clear signs of neglect.

From what Arthur remembered about the Uzumaki clan, they were known for their fiery red hair, immense chakra reserves, and skills in sealing techniques.

They originated from the Village Hidden by Whirling Tides, a hidden village famed for powerful ninjas. Unfortunately, that village was destroyed due to fear of its strength.

Despite their village's fall, the Uzumaki clan persevered. Some members, like Kushina (Naruto's mother), ended up in the Leaf Village, while others were scattered throughout the world.

Uzumaki clan members have impeccable healing abilities. It allowed them to live long lives and recover quickly from injuries. Notably, they were particularly suited to become Jinchūriki.

Perhaps their greatest legacy was their expertise in sealing techniques. Their unique chakra and sealing techniques, often marked by a spiral symbol, were highly respected and even feared throughout the ninja world.

If Arthur had been given this character before William, he would have exercised his potential tenfold.

Ignoring the debris within the temple, he ventured deeper, his eyes adjusting to the dim light. Finally, he reached the main hall, a large chamber with a single, faded mural depicting swirling symbols.

Dominating the opposite wall was a collection of masks.

Dozens of them adorned the wall, each meticulously crafted. Grotesque visages with open mouths, hideous faces with closed eyes, and ferocious beast-like devils all stared back at him.

But his gaze was fixated on one in particular: a devil's mask with two horns and sharp teeth, the features of the Reaper, the spirit from the Reaper Death Seal technique.

This mask had a special ability. It allowed the wearer to summon and control the infamous Reaper by allowing it to possess the wearer. This in turn enabled the user to perform the forbidden technique without any prerequisites—the Reaper Death Seal: Release.

Orochimaru, alongside Sasuke's team, would venture here to perform the ritual. The price to use the mask ended in death. Orochimaru, being the crafty serpent that he is, switched bodies to prevent himself from dying.

Arthur moved towards the wall. He leapt up, reached out, and swiftly unhooked the Reaper mask. Landing, he felt its cool surface.

Arthur, a Christian, would never associate with things like this on earth.

Pulling out a scroll, he drew markings and performed the sealing technique to tuck it securely inside.

He then surveyed the area. Perhaps, he thought, some of these other masks held secrets yet to be discovered. But for now, his objective was complete.

With the Reaper mask secured, he turned away from the wall and exited the abandoned temple.