Howdy guys! I've hit a bit of a rough patch with my writing. Basically, I have learnt that I am not as good a writer as I believed I am. So, over the last month or so, I've been working with a few other much better authors to improve my own skills. I know, that is no excuse for the late updates. But I ask you to bear with me for a while longer. I'm working on some projects on the back-end and if you just want to get to the story, you can completely ignore this AN. But if you have come here because you want news on my other stories, well, go to the bottom of this chapter.

Without much ado, let us begin!

That Which Remains

Chapter 1

That Which is Forgotten

Perfection.

To the layman, the word 'perfection' represents something unattainable. Something incomparable to anything else, flawless in itself. Something that was not of human make. Because what form of perfection came from beings that were, for lack of a better phrase, flawed? To find a perfect human was a task magnitudes greater than finding something perfect. Because for humans, perfection lay in fleeting seconds. Moments, memories, acts. instants that hung in the minds of these pitiful creatures forever, distorted by time

That was what Rias Gremory had grown up learning. Of course, that would mean her parents taught her that. Or, heavens forbid, her brother. Tutelage under Zekram Bael scarred people. Perfection was their enemy, something embodied by those they once fought. Angel-kind. Creatures fashioned by the great creator himself. Perfection given form by the hands of one who was both omniscient and omnipotent.

God, the dear, pure daddy of angelkind. Humanity lacked the perfection he had given to his first children. And as such, they strived towards it. As a devil, it was her profession to make sure they never reached that lofty zenith. Else, devilkind would have a much bigger crisis on their hands. Something that would make the great war feel tame in comparison. Which brought her to her current dilemma.

Because against all odds, she had, in fact, found someone. A creature who was, by all means of comparison, perfection incarnate. What more, the object of her current fascination and dread was a human.

A young, blonde, unknown boy.

He didn't exist, as far as any official records went. He was as alien as they came. And he had popped out of nowhere to boot. If not for her brother's curiosity, she wouldn't even know he existed. As for why her brother was curious, it was quite understandable.

The boy had attracted the attention of the great heavenly legion itself.

There were two reasons for that. For one, his soul resembled that of an archangel, pure beyond measure. Sure, even angels were not infallible, but to be as pure as an angel was something only one man had ever achieved. The great Metatron, who was then made god's very own right hand. Into an archangel above all others, even Michael, the one who lead the heavenly host.

There was also his appearance. It was not every day that a being tore its way into a new world, bloodied and beaten past any chance of recovery. Then de-age a few years as his body knit itself together through sheer force of will. There was only one place they though he could have come from.

The dimensional gap, where no human could survive.

But he had, as for his humanity, that was clear as day. He had no presence, no occult powers, nothing. He was blank. Pure, but blank. He wasn't perverted by the powers of the dark; neither was he claimed by the radiance of hallowed light.

Of course, it intrigued her. And she was definitely his age. And who would suspect that a 14-year-old girl would be plotting to kill him? Especially someone as pure as the poor, blonde boy. It had been a cakewalk getting close to him. He had no home, he was a young boy - a naïve boy - in a new and hostile environment. All she had to do was to be kind to him, keep him fed, live with him.

And over the course of a month, he had completely fallen for her.

It was clear that he had never known the touch of a woman, clear that he had never seen much kindness. He was paranoid at first, scared, even. And why wouldn't he be? The village he spoke of, Konoha, didn't exist in this world. Neither did the elemental countries, for that matter. The way he moved spoke of a life lead in complete fear, a fear of his fellow men. A tortured childhood, then? It was the only logical explanation. And she used it to her own advantage.

She made him hers, and she did a damn good job at it.

He soon started to smile. He started talking to her with gusto. He let down his shield, and it was beautiful. It was like watching a pupa turn into a beautiful butterfly. It almost made her re-consider her course of action. But her edict was older than time itself. She was a devil, and her very purpose was to deceive; to lead humans astray.

To remove their progress towards the divine.

Hence, she proposed to him.

That was the day his last guard dropped. Three months of constant contact had led to this point, and she knew his answer before he could so much as say it. It was then that he showed her some of his own 'powers'. Clones, basic manipulation of elements. It was impressive, but devils could do all this and more with their magic. It was nothing game-changing like her own powers of destruction. She decided to completely ignore them. She wasn't scouting him out for her peerage, after all.

Two more months passed, and her time with him was about to come to an end. She was going to Kuoh, and she had been looking forward to it too much let a loose end like the boy delay, or god forbid, ruin it. She had to act fast. Her… progress with the blonde was nowhere near where she wanted it to be. He was still guarded, still wary. There was only one way to get done with it in time for school.

Hence, she took him to her bed.

He shivered. She remembered. He didn't know what to do with his hands, she remembered that as well. His stamina was phenomenal, that too, was a memory she retained. But what she remembered most of all was ripping his heart out the moment they finished.

And more than that, she remembered his face as he lay dying.

It was her first kill, and she had made the grave mistake of looking in his eyes as his life ebbed from his lacerated body. There was no shock. No inkling of pain.

Only a blank look of abject betrayal and confusion.

She left the scene, and her loyal servants appeared. Ready to clean up after their precious princess. This wasn't a job for her peerage. They didn't need to bear the responsibility, nor the honor. And hence, she had reported to her brother, expecting congratulations.

What she got instead, was a resounding slap.

This was new, her brother had never hurt her, be it physical or mental. But the man that stood in front of her was no longer her brother. No, he was the Satan, the only one who mattered. And she, a mere underling, had acted without his consent or knowledge. He told her that the reason he had let her mingle with the boy was simple. It was so that she could learn the potential that humanity represented - that killing him was an act that the heavens were not likely to forgive.

She tried to reason with him, telling him that even Zekram agreed that perfection was their true foe. That humanity was not allowed to grasp it. But for the Satan, the mere mention of the man marked the end of their conversation. He would listen no more, and he made it clear that till Rias was wiser, she would have no more interactions with her grandfather.

Dejected, she returned to her room. Waiting there, she found three files. Intrigued, she decided to peruse them. What she read made her blood run cold.

They covered the Nekoshou massacre, the motion to illegalize the reincarnation of other races as Devils, and the removal of the extra houses from the rating game system. The first of these files detailed something that affected one of her peerage members. The others had never taken place, thanks to the timely intervention of the Satans. Had they come to pass, she wouldn't have a peerage. Her sister-in-law would have never gotten the respect she more than deserved.

And worst of all, all three incidents were the work of very man who she had devoted her entire life to. Her dear grandfather, Zekram Bael.

It hit her then, the hate-speeches, the blatant racism, the superior attitude. Zekram thought of anyone who wasn't a pure devil as an enemy. And in a time of peace as fragile as theirs, such thoughts preordained the eradication of their race.

She steeled her heart. She had killed a man, and not for her ideals, but because Zekram feared his kind. She had seen the potential they had firsthand. It showed itself in her knight, in Sona's queen, and in the boy she had murdered. She had taken his potential with her own hand

And she swore on her peerage, she would never do so again.

It had taken the death of a young boy to show her that all races deserved equal respect. She would not let his death stand for nothing.

She couldn't remember his name, but she would not forget his importance. It was the least she could do for the man who had taught her how to live life on her own ideals.

"Wake up, child."

Naruto slowly did as he was asked. He gripped the trash he lay on, scrambling to his feet. The last thing he remembered was Rias' warm embrace. He had no idea how he ended up here, or where 'here' was, for that matter. As he stood up, all that greeted his eyes was trash. As in, endless mountains of trash. like the ever-shifting dunes of Suna, but here, there was no wind.

Instead, there was more such trash, falling from the sky. It was like this for miles, or at least as far as he could see, the further away he looked, the larger the mountains of trash got. If there was a ground under the endless expanse of trash, he couldn't see it.

His eyes then fell on the one humanoid figure in the area. Sitting right on top of one of the dunes was a young man in tattered clothing, something that was once a lush, fur cape draped around his thin shoulders. With his regal stature, the man looked extremely out of place sitting on one of the dunes. Even his tattered clothing didn't detract from the princely aura he exuded. One would expect the man to be dirty, but other than his tattered clothing, dirt just didn't seem to stick to him. His blonde hair was still as vibrant as it would be had he been freshly bathed, his face was clean, devoid of any patches of dirt that one would expect on the face of someone who lived in a junkyard. In a place so devoid of life, he stood out like a sore thumb.

"Who are you? What is this place?" Naruto asked, prompting a chuckle out of his companion. The man slowly got to his feel, choosing to walk over to Naruto's own dune, his feet gliding over the uneven trash, speaking of his familiarity with the rough surface.

"Who I am doesn't matter, young Naruto." The man commented offhandedly. "As for this place, well, this is where the forgotten find an end."

Naruto cocked an eyebrow in intrigue, "The forgotten? I don't understand. Also, how do you know my name?"

The man gestured towards the dune next to the two. "Yes, this place is a deposit of things… and people… who are forgotten." He plucked out a broken button from the ground, gingerly holding it between trembling fingers. "Each of them have history, and through my touch, it is revealed. I am their warden, the god of the forgotten."

Naruto nodded with hesitant understanding. "Sure, but why am I here?"

The man – no, god – laughed, a clear, pleasant sound that served to repress the eeriness of theur surroundings. "isn't that obvious, Naruto? The world has forgotten you, that too mere minutes after your departure from the physical realm. You didn't even die before you were forgotten, how sad."

Such simple words, delivered in such a playful tone, yet to Naruto, they hit with the force of a speeding freight train. "I-I'm dead? How?" He asked, making the man shake his head. "No, whatever happened made sure your spirit left the mortal plane before your body could truly die." Naruto breathed a heavy sigh of relief, before being stopped by his companion's wagging index finger. He wasn't done, it seemed.

"What you're left with is a choice. Look at yourself." Naruto did as he was asked, and gasped. His body was both present and absent, physically, it existed, but it was see-through. The sheer feeling of wrongness he emanated was a physical thing, and then he realized that it wasn't where he was that brought about his current sense of unease, but what he was instead.

"You're currently on the border. Unlike inanimate things, humans cannot truly be forgotten till they die. For it is then that they forget themselves, or the physical body that 'was' them." He continued, resting a single, bony, shivering finger on Naruto's chest, right above his heart. "Your heart was torn from your body by the one you loved. Ironic. But your inner vitality, and the beast that lives inside you, won't let you go so easily."

"So, it is up to you now. You can either let go of yourself and rest here forevermore, or you can return to a world where no one remembers you."

Naruto met his companion's eyes with a confused look on his face, "Wait, I have a choice?" he asked. His companion nodded. Naruto spared one long, wandering gaze to the wasteland. Would he want to stay here? Was the alternative of going back to the unknown, impersonal world he came from truly worth it? That was a question he was ill equipped to answer.

"I – I don't know." Naruto confessed. "Honestly speaking, this place is not very appealing to me, but the other world forgot me in almost an instant. I would like some time to think, if you don't mind."

The man chuckled yet again, drawing amusement from his fellow blonde's confusion. "Sadly, I cannot allow that. This place affects mortals like you more than you believe it does. Stay here long enough, and even the most stalwart souls end up forgetting themselves. I'd know, I've been here for all eternity."

Naruto winced. The man was right. Every minute he spent here felt like it was spent in deep-seated meditation. He had forgotten his sense of being when he had mastered sage mode, but this, this took it a level further. If he stayed here, he was sure he would end up forgetting who he was and everything he stood for. Had he been in the elemental nations, he wouldn't think twice about leaving. But now, he wasn't quite so sure.

"What's the tradeoff?"

Sure, living in what amounted to an endless junkyard didn't sound appealing at all, but this man, right here, had sacrificed eternal life to stay here. Why? Sensing his confusion, the man spoke again.

"I too, was once like you. My life at an end, my purpose forgotten. But unlike hundreds of my companions, my body lived, left entrenched in the mortal realm. But I was forgotten." his piercing gaze held Naruto's own. "I came here in a time of war. You should have seen this place then, if you think the rain is bad now, you should have seen it back then. It poured, each item that came in was steeped in history. Things are forgotten in war, too many things of importance. And to me, each such item was a storybook too fascinating to describe. The deeper I dug, the more I learnt. This place promised me more knowledge than even the archives of heaven… or hell, for that matter. So, I stayed too long, I forgot who I was. And now, the only thing I remember from my own past is a name. A name I don't believe I can lay claim to."

"Tenshin."

Naruto chuckled. "Cakes! your name means cakes! The man didn't look irritated, rather, he looked quite happy.

"I'm a cake, you're a fishcake. That alone makes you good company, Naruto Uzumaki."

The blonde shook his head. "My name means 'Maelstrom', old man!" He yelled, completely disregarding the playful smirk on his companion's face.

"And Tenshin, young one, means 'providence'." He countered, making Naruto puff his cheeks with irritation.

"On to the crux of the matter. What is your answer?"

Naruto didn't answer for a few seconds, instead choosing to stare forlornly at the ground under him, before looking into Tenshin's eyes with a melancholy smile. "No offense, Tenshin, but I have never been someone with an interest in the mysteries of life. I want to live - This time, on my own terms."

To his credit, Tenshin wasn't surprised or disappointed, not outwardly, at least. He simply motioned towards a dirty sword sticking out of the hill behind him. It didn't look like much at first glance, but two things set it apart from the entire mound of trash under it. It was still sharp, though dirty. More remarkable was the blade itself, made of green crystal with the word 'STRADA' engraved into it lengthwise.

"This weapon was a vile creation of the church, meant to surpass a true holy sword. It was created using the essence of children who could wield holy blades. The church both succeeded and failed their purpose. They made a blade that surpassed any other of human make, one capable to going up against the likes of Durandal itself. But it could never be wielded by the one man who it was made for. Hence, it was forgotten." He stated, prompting Naruto to pick it up. As Naruto pulled the blade from the hill, Tenshin continued. "The blade was forgotten, but it shared its name with one of the greatest exorcists of the church. Hence, it exists in the same limbo as you. Considering who and what you are, you should have no trouble wielding it."

True to his words, the sword reacted to Naruto almost instantly. As he lifted it up, the blade began to glow with a haunting green light, almost as bright as a neon sign but not quite there. Before he could admire the blade in his hands, it shattered into a billion motes of light and shot into his body.

And it was hell.

His head split with pain as the man-made relic's programming activated, transmitting to him the exact powers and usage of the sword. It was made with the sole purpose of combining the destructive power of Durandal and the space-time manipulation of caliburn and it had mated their powers with the same subtlety as the twisting of a hurricane. The powers simply did not harmonize. But they could definitely be used alone.

He knew how to get out of here.

"Go, Naruto. Live your life." Tenshin stated, giving the blonde a kind smile. Naruto summoned the blade from within his soul, and it began to glow bright yellow, the power of Caliburn saturating its blade. He brought it down, slashing through thin air. The blade left a ripple that expanded into a rip between dimensions. Looking through it, Naruto could see a familiar back-alley. The place he had called home for his first week in Japan. He steeled himself and gave one last look to Tenshin, a happy smile firmly in place on his visage.

"You might be the god of the forgotten, but I'm not going to forget you."

The rip in space closed as Naruto passed through, leaving Tenshin alone in the land of the forgotten. His smile suddenly morphed into something a lot more sinister. From under his cloak, he withdrew one of his hands. Just as he expected, it had slowly started to fade, becoming transparent, not unlike how Naruto had been mere moments ago.

"Of course you won't, Naruto. I'll be counting on it."

Three months.

Three months was all it took Naruto to realize that something had changed within him. That the realm of the forgotten had taken more than just a day of his life from him. It happened when he went to work for the first time, a simple ramen stall. A week he worked there just fine, but when he came back after his first holiday, his employers didn't remember him at all. Not one bit. What more, the store's regular customers didn't either. It all led to the shopkeeper calling the cops, and him going to the station for detainment due to lack of identification. He spent a night there, only to be released by a cop next morning who couldn't for the life of him figure out who he was or why he was brought in. A quick, basic genjutsu was enough to convince him that Naruto never existed.

He knew that he had to work to survive. And he needed a job where he would be on call each and every day. As such, only one job remained viable for him.

He became a residential caretaker at an orphanage. It only took a little convincing to get him the job. Apparently, explaining that he himself was an orphan did the trick. He felt ashamed, using his past to get himself a secure job, but he took solace in the fact that he didn't plan to do anything bad. He stayed at the orphanage, providing for the needs of the many kids there. It was a good life, a nice life. And he lived it for a year. Every time his employer showed up, he would have to be reminded who Naruto was though a Genjutsu. Though each time, Naruto had to remind him less. It was as if multiple interactions with the blonde made him remember him more.

Still, it was never enough. The most his employer could remember were mere notions of who he was. It made Naruto hypothesize that enough contact, or closeness, with him could - in theory - get people to remember him. He had no heart to experiment on the children, so he waited for an opportunity to present itself. Sadly, people had lives. Things to do, people to see.

And when an opportunity did provide itself, he took it. Sadly, he had no idea that his opportunity was about to throw him right back into the world he had barely escaped with his life

In her long life, there were many mistakes Griselda Quarta had made. She had killed people on the orders of the church, devils who weren't as bad as the church made them out to be, sinners who were working on their own beliefs, on projects that would improve human life while barely breaking any laws of the church. No, not god's divine rules, not the edict of the light, but rules the clergy had forced on humanity for their own benefit.

But today, she had made a mistake of judgement that was so great, she wasn't sure if the heavens could ever forgive her for it.

She had decided to trust Dulio's sense of direction.

Now, Dulio was well-known in certain circles for being an avid traveler, disappearing for months on end and returning with bags filled with delicacies for the child exorcists-in-training. When Lady Gabriel gave them their divine quest, she decided to follow Dulio. Considering her lack of knowledge about the Chinese region in general, the decision made perfect sense. Dulio insisted he had been there.

What she did not expect was to end up in Japan.

And they hadn't even used magic to travel.

"Again, I'm sorry for this, Griselda, but the letters on the tickets were almost identical!"

Griselda sighed as she dodged another attack from her assailant, she'd call him a man, but his energy spoke differently. It was darker than any devil's, even a Satan's. It felt primordial, raging against her sword of light rather than dying out like darkness was wont against light. Instead, the… thing, it used its very hands to deflect the sword she had killed over a hundred stray devils with. Such was the power of their adversary.

And it was all because of Dulio's gigantic mess up.

"I swear to god, Dulio. Only your luck could lead to us running into an ancient Buddhist demon-god!" Griselda countered, creating space between herself and her enemy, giving Dulio his cue to enter. And enter he did, Zenith Tempest flared, ready to strike with the wrath of Nature.

Sadly, their quarry was faster, he dodged right past Dulio, deciding that Griselda was the weaker of the two, for good reason. No longinus? No fear. He punched her, and for a human like her, it was like being hit by a truck. It sent her careening into a wall, her ribs shattered, any chance she had of returning to the fight gone.

The demon decided to spare the horrified Dulio a condescending look. "They send two exorcists to take me out, to take out the eternal Mara, and they hope to succeed? Pity neither of you are beautiful enough for my tastes, else keeping you alive would be worth the hassle."

"I'm pretty sure Griselda would skewer you for that comment, but I guess I'll have to do." Dulio commented before rushing in, blowing a bubble using Zenith Tempest at point blank, hoping to capture Mara in it. If he could do that, the fight would be won. Mara was too smart to fall for it. He dodged sideways, planting his fist in Dulio's pliant body, sending him flying. As he landed, Dulio used the powers of the Zenith Tempest to break his fall. He was pretty sure he had broken something, but he couldn't give up now. He looked back towards Mara as soon as he stabilized himself on the ground, ready for a counter attack. But none came. Hell, Mara wasn't even paying attention to him anymore.

Because he had been knocked into a building, and in his place stood a blonde, fist outstretched, his knuckles smoking from the impact on Mara's face.

"So there was a third one? I must say, it isn't every day someone gets the drop on me. You have no presence. For someone like you, with the power you possess, that should be an impossibility."

Mara broke through the wall as he dislodged his tall body from the brickwork, slowly flexing his muscled arms. His hat was on the ground, revealing his shoulder-length black hair and pointed goatee. His face was beautiful, even more so than many of the angels Dulio had seen in his life. For a god of power and lust, his face fit perfect. Beautiful, but containing an inherent, primal sort of madness. Soothing and terrifying in equal measure.

"I like to believe I'm an easy-to-forget kind of person." The blonde commented, getting into a combat stance.

"But I saw these two in trouble and thought I should intervene."

Dulio let out a pained chuckle, "I appreciate your offer, but I can't get a civilian involved." He stepped forward, fighting through the pain, confusing Mara for a second. Then, the god burst into laughter, confusing both his opponents.

"I was doing well enough, staying away from the troublesome affairs of both heaven and hell, living a peaceful life here. you humans had to come and ruin all of it. Well, it doesn't matter. After I end you, right here, right now, I can always go back to my life. Now, come, kids. Let me show you why they consider me a god."

Mara appeared in front of Dulio before he even had the chance to react, but he didn't have to. Fist met fist as the blonde boy intercepted, completely nullifying the god's strike, faint surprise appeared on Mara's face, and both the blondes took advantage of it. Not having the time to prepare Zenith Tempest, Dulio struck out with his sword. His unlikely ally produced a blue sphere of pure energy in his hand, shoving it into Mara's abdomen, surprising both friend and foe alike.

The effect was instant, as the spinning sphere caved in Mara's abdomen and launched him back a couple of hundred feet, knocking him into yet another house, they were lucky to be fighting in an abandoned residential complex, else this would have gotten messy real fast. The blonde relaxed for a second, giving Dulio a quirky grin, before being replaced by an outstretched arm coated in demonic power.

Dulio jumped back, but it was too late, Mara was too fast, too strong. It came with his position as a god. Dulio had been dumb when he decided to challenge him, and now, he was paying the price. Mara's leg caught him in the sternum, raising his body three feet into the air. He didn't even have the chance to straighten before Mara turned, smashing his boot-clad foot into the exorcist's face and bashing him into the cold, hard tarmac.

"A nice try, but he has no weapons that can hurt me. And you, wielder of the Zenith Tempest, you don't have enough skill to even hit me. So much potential, so little time."

Before Mara could finish him off though, they were interrupted by a sudden presence. One that they were both, in equal measure, familiar with and unknowing of. After all, holy swords didn't appear daily, and each felt different, even though they all radiated a very similar, holy feeling.

Comfort to the ally, despair to the opponent.

But this one? It was warped. Like an unholy, obscene marriage of power. It felt both like the Durandal - the army-slaying sword - and the Caliburn - the sword that shredded dimensions. The power signature emerged from the very hole the blonde boy had created as he was knocked through the apartment complex. A blow like that was easily enough to completely eviscerate any human - Exorcist or otherwise - but as the boy walked out of the gaping hole, he carried with him a sword that was, in equal parts, beautiful and terrifying.

Normally, one would be more concerned about the human holding the blade rather than the blade itself, but compared to the weapon he carried, the blonde looked almost tame. He seemed almost uninjured by Mara's attack, if the scuffs and bruises on his – now bare – body were anything to go by. Hell, he didn't even look winded. Dulio was reminded of the time he and his fellow exorcists had trained with their forbear, Vasco Strada. A man who he could barrage with sacred-gear powered hits, and yet not even scratch.

"You said you couldn't be hurt by a mere human." The boy stated, a tone of finality in his voice.

"I'd like to test how true your claims are."

He raised his sword, putting both his arms behind it, the blade began to glow a brilliant blue, the power signature of Durandal manifesting stronger than that of Caliburn. The boy tensed, his body angled towards the god. Mara simply turned to him, cocking a fist back, ready to counter.

"Come, brat, let's see if you're made of sterner stuff than these two."

Needing nothing more along the lines of an invitation, the boy charged… no... shot, towards Mara at a speed that Dulio found himself unable to follow. Mara almost hesitated, seeing the light blue colored energy that the blonde himself was exuding, something otherworldly, borderline undetectable. Something easily as potent as Mara's own godly powers. He couldn't afford to take it easy, so he decided to end it.

"Mara smash!"

"Blue stinger!"

Fist met sword, and as was expected, the fist gave way, followed by the arm. Durandal alone could never have done so much, but whatever the sword the blonde wielded was, it far surpassed the original blade. As the sword's arc completed, the very air around Mara exploded. Dulio's limp body was thrown far by the very shockwave of the attack, landing next to the limp form of his female companion. Soon, the blonde joined them, locking eyes with the still-conscious exorcist.

"I think that takes care of him, we should get-" He was cut off as the dwindling power of the god behind him suddenly exploded, multiplying tenfold.

"…out."

What he saw next was a vision that would haunt him for the remainder of his mortal life, for it was not every day that one was graced with the true form of Mara, the Buddhist demon-god of lust and power. And that was not a fight he was going to take. Not here, not ever. He quickly switched STRADA to Caliburn mode and ripped a hole in space to a random place. Anywhere but here. As he picked up the two injured exorcists, he made sure to shut the eyes of the one who was still conscious. But the damage had already been done.

They had seen the chariot, the chariot on which rested the a twenty-foot penis-shaped monster. And no matter how powerful he may be, Naruto did not want to fight that monstrosity.

"You did a good job getting us here. You have my thanks."

Never in Naruto's short life in this world did he think that one day, he'd have to use his sword to travel halfway across the globe. But desperate times called for desperate measures. He couldn't stand by and just let the two foreigners die. If it meant squaring up against a demon-god, he'd do it. That was the one tenet of his shinobi code he stood by, even if the rest of his code was proven to be garbage time-and-time again.

That was his issue. He just couldn't leave well enough alone. And it wasn't like he hadn't faced a deity before.

That one didn't turn into a giant penis-demon though, that's for sure.

"Don't mention it. Always wanted to see Italy for myself. Also, how can I understand everyone here? I've never studied Italian in my life."

The injured blonde had introduced himself as Dulio Gesualdo when him, the woman, and Naruto had fled the… thing. He had opened a portal to the orphanage first, but the woman was too injured to be treated in just about any hospital. The two didn't even have passports or any documents of identification. Hence, on Dulio's request, he had brought them to Italy – specifically to a small town right outside the order of the Vatican.

The boy had brought Naruto to the doorstep of the largest concentration of power he had ever felt in this world.

It wasn't an intrusive kind of power. It didn't feel like Madara's own debilitating aura. This felt closer to – dare he say it – a father's love. Like the heat from a bonfire on a cold, cold night.

"Your attendant doesn't seem to like me all that much." Naruto commented as the young boy dressing Dulio's finally left the room. He stopped for a second to give Naruto yet another glare, but thankfully didn't try and pick a fight.

"He doesn't like people like you. Blond hair, blue eyes." Dulio responded, pouring himself a glass of water. Naruto moved to help him, but Dulio waved him off.

"I can do stuff like this myself. I'm not as injured as Griselda." He answered, finishing his glass with a large gulp. Naruto sighed. The church they were in wasn't that much different from a hospital. And if Dulio was anything like him, he could understand how the man was feeling.

"Yeah, that Mara dude did a number on her. I'm sorry I couldn't intervene in time. I had to know whether you were enemies or not."

Dulio raised an eyebrow, "And how could you tell that? I could have been sent to kill you, you know?" He we met with a chuckle. Naruto's lips turned upwards in mirth, not believing his companion for a second.

"Then you'd know who I am, and that is impossible."

Dulio regarded Naruto with a critical eye. Sure, he could feel something from the blonde. A sense of wrongness so powerful that he could taste it. It didn't change the fact that he was - very prominently - human.

"In case you're wondering why I feel so… odd. That would be my curse." Naruto commented, an unsure frown on his face.

Dulio frowned. He was the holder of a Longinus. For a curse to affect him so, it would indeed have to be very powerful. But it definitely was permeating his body, ignoring his own power. It wasn't having any pronounced effect. But curses were known to lie dormant for long periods of time.

"What curse? Is it dangerous?"

Naruto shook his head, a somber smile appearing on his face. "Not in the normal sense. There is no mortal danger to you guys. It is my curse."

Dulio shook his head. "Even you. Is it dangerous to you?"

Naruto gazed at him through hazy eyes, "Maybe, it doesn't affect my physically. What it gives me is more like a mental pain."

"If I am absent for a day, people forget who I am. Completely."

Dulio was stunned. Being an orphan, he knew what it meant to be alone. Living a life like that was torture.

"You have more in common with us, then. We exorcists comprise almost completely of orphans. I am one, Griselda is one too. We're all family here. And I believe I speak for them all when I say I want to help you."

Naruto cocked an eyebrow in surprise. "You'd do that? I don't believe you'd do that for free. It seems outside your own area of expertise."

Dulio smiled. "I like to help people, but yes, it isn't something that comes free of cost." He pointed towards the door. "Reece, for example, was an orphan in Germany. I found him on one of my travels. I told him I'd take him to a place where he would no longer have to fear. In exchange, he'd have to join the church. He's a part of the church choir now. He plays the Idiophone."

Naruto grimaced. "Idiophone? That sounds like something incredibly complex."

"Not really, it is better known as the triangle."

Naruto paled, "That's a rather… small price for salvation."

Dulio grinned. "He does what little he can. You, on the other hand, can do so much more."

Naruto looked down at his feet. Sure, he had a small, content life at the orphanage. But was it really what he wanted to do? Would he be content being a small-timer in a completely new world?

What would Jiraya do?

He looked up at Dulio. "Sure, I'll do it."

Dulio gave him one last smile as he reached out to shake Naruto's hand. Naruto complied with ease.

"Then let me welcome you to the ranks of the Exorcists of the Vatican."

That's chapter one done. This will be the story that succeeds The Anomalous one, which has five chapters left between now and completion. The story that will succeed Your True Colors will be published soon. I am dropping Your True Colors cause I simply cannot see myself enjoying the direction it is going in. To make it worthwhile, I'll have to rewrite the whole thing. That is something I am not willing to do while I already have new ideas in my head.

but for all my followers who are RWBY fans, don't worry. The story that will Succeed Your True Colors Will be a RWBYxNaruto crossover and it is a premise that has never been done before on Fanfiction, so hopefully you'll enjoy it more than Your True Colors.

-CruelRuin